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It's all very well for Kid Rock to claim that his misspent youth was the time of his life, but just how enjoyable an experience could it actually have been? A series of momentary glimpses of freewheeling heaven, and a lot of singing? Hours of fishing and the occasional tot of hard liquor? There's really only one way to find out, and that's to dig out the trusty ChartBlog Lyriscope and use it to cross-examine every word of 'All Summer Long' until we really KNOW what makes it what it is.

Come with me now, let the experiments commence...

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Media studies students could (and probably do) write essay after essay on what happens to a middle-ranking indie band when they get the full 'Future Of Music' treatment from the NME or Kerrang! or whichever beat publication you happen to prefer. The NME is usually the best example to work from, because they are very good at appearing to have a corporate policy which demands that everyone with ears has to love their big new thing. This appears to last until just after the band's (and it's always a band) first album comes out, and then little snarky comments appear in reviews of other acts, the person editing the letters page comes out as an un-believer, and before you know it, it looks like they have once again built someone up, only to knock them down again.

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Wait wait wait...this is all wrong. Where's the hip hop beat? Where's the authentic '60s soul feel? Where's the cover version of a well-loved indie classic? Where's Lily? Where's Amy? I mean, this is a Mark Ronson production, right? So, y'know, where are the HORNS, MAAN?

This isn't remotely horny. Not even the tiniest bit horny. If Mousse T did a song about this song, it would NOT have a refrain which goes "I'm horny, horny horny horny...". Deer are horny, rhinos are horny, horny-toads are horny, but this, a song which has been produced by Mark 'Trumpetty-Trump' Ronson is not.

What gives, crazy world?

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In this week's Chart Show, Fearne and Reggie got to spend a little telephonic quality time with James Morrison, he of the gravelly voice and songs about jigsaws. During their chat, it emerged that he's a whizz at changing nappies, that he is currently on holiday in Cornwall, and that he is the only person on Earth who can convince Joss Stone to drop that funny accent she's picked up.

In fact, the only things James can't quite do is correctly say the word "eccentric", or place Joss in the county she grew up in. He says Cornwall, cos that's where he's going, but we all know she's from Devon, right?

OK, OK, she was born in Kent. But she did grow up in Devon. That's Devon, England, UK, in case she's got even MORE American over the past few months.

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It is SO tempting to try and eke this 'exclusive' thing out over several pages of teasing text. Stuff about the band, stuff about the new single 'Breakeven' (it's out on November 10th, it's the third single from their debut album, that sort of thing), stuff about ANYTHING which will keep people reading and clicking on ChartBlog pages.

But that is not our way. Here's the video, enjoy!

[Oh blimey, Hazel and Steve have gone feral... - Fraser]

Readers, it saddens me to have to inform you of a grave matter. Very occasionally it is necessary for two ChartBloggers to tag team a review for a specific song, for various reasons. On this occasion, Hazel and I have come to the conclusion that the new Sugababes single is such a colossal disappointment, one reviewer alone cannot possibly do justice to its appallingness. Therefore we have come together in the hope that between us, we can cover all of the reasons why it sucks.

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There's one thing that bothers me about Boyzone reforming. Assuming that the UK's most successful boybands of the 1990s are set to reform in something vaguely resembling chronological order, since Take That and Boyzone have already done it, that means Westlife are next. And they haven't even split up yet. At this rate, they'll never go away.

Anyway, that's a worry for another time. Having recently taken on reviewing duties for the NKOTB comeback single, I appear to have been designated the official ChartBlog reviewer for boyband resurrections. Hey, it's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it.

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Well, not ALL teenagers, sadly. Just the ones of you who are aged between 14 and 17. The rest of you can just sit quietly for a second, I'll get to you at the end.
Fingers on lips!

OK, so, you're 14, 15, 16 or 17, and you like music. And the music you like the best tends to be by one or all of these acts:

Fall Out Boy, McFly, Ne-Yo, Miley Cyrus, Basshunter and N-Dubz.

But, as you are too young to legally go and see them live without a parent or guardian, how are you going to get your mosh on and not get, y'know, grounded for uncouth behaviour?

Fear not, young person, there is a way. ³ÉÈË¿ìÊÖ Switch - the TV-slash-radio-slash-internet teen empire wing of the Beeb, are staging a live event in London on October 12th. All of the acts listed above are going to be there, plus the limb-spinning dance whirlwind George Sampson. And you can be there too, if you just follow some simple instructions and cross your fingers.

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I know this is something that he likes to claim often, but have you ever considered that Kanye West might actually BE the genius he always says he is? There are clearly two kinds of rappers who release songs which only feature singing on them. The first are the deluded egomaniacs who assume that their mad skills on the mic are a passport into excellence in any creative endeavour they wish to try. The second are a rarer breed, egomaniacs who assume that their mad skills on the mic are a passport into excellence, and are RIGHT.

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This little interview here was probably the most enjoyable one I've ever done. It was with Fyfe and Aristazabal from Guillemots, and it took place in a tiny cottage in the grounds of the Eden project, when the band were supporting KT Tunstall, back in July. I say 'tiny cottage' out of politeness, when what I really mean is 'miniscule cow-shed'. Or possibly 'empty bike-parking hut'. You can sort of tell what the acoustics were like just from listening.

Oh, you also need to know that, as the interview begins, Fyfe is attempting to make himself comfortable on an empty cardboard box. An empty cardboard box which very speedily collapses under his spindly frame.

The rest of it explains itself. Enjoy!

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Short review: if you like Forever The Sickest Kids, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and Kids In Glass Houses, you'll probably also like this almost unconditionally.

Long review, for everyone else: actually this sounds a little bit like Idlewild in places.

I'm joking, of course, there's more to it than that and anyway, I really like Kids In Glass Houses and don't really like this all that much. This is one of those songs that claims, with its huge hairy guitars and slightly shouty vocals to ROCK REALLY HARD and probably fans of it go completely mental to it at gigs. The actual sum of its parts, however, is nothing like as punk as I think it probably wants to be.

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NOTE: While this instructional cartoon may prove that James Morrison is not camel-proof, it's worth noting that he might not be alone in this. So before you set a stampede going to crush the bull-throated singer-songwriter in your life, do pay particular attention to what you are going to do with your camels once they've done your evil bidding.

I mean, does anyone know how to calm down a camel? Especially a camel who has been fooled into thinking it's about get a drink?

That's right, give it a drink. Simple common sense, that is.

Oh, and make sure you have a really good reason to destroy James Morrison before you do it. Just finding his music to be not your taste won't cut it in a court of law. You would have to be convinced that he was attempting to raise a land army to invade the Isle Of Man or something. A land army of zombies. With nuclear shoes. Something like that.

How To Destroy Other People...

The question of whether we actually need an thoughtful, eloquent elder aunt to Katy Perry's bratty mind-bombs, or Kate Nash's stream-of-unconsciousness ditsy-pop - the kind of aunt who can't help but act in a mature and polite fashion, even though she is seething with the same kind of burning mischief and frivolous glee as her more flamboyant nieces - has largely been answered by the success of 'Love Song', so let's not linger on why Sara Bareilles is here. She IS here, she's doing well, and if she sounds a little too much like Aimee Mann covering Maroon 5 at times, we're all going to have to just put up with it.

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It's no secret that there is a massive unrequited love affair going on between ChartBlog and the band Elbow. I say unrequited because, despite the interviews and the favourable reviews, I have yet to have proof that Guy Garvey even knows we exist, and this is a sad thought in an otherwise very happy way to pass the time. Loving Elbow is as easy as loving a favourite uncle, one who always has sweets on him, and has all the time in the world to take you to the swings.

So it seems a natural fit to find out that the band are seriously looking into making a musical film for children. This is something they want to tinker with while they work on their next proper grown-up album - the follow-up to 'The Seldom Seen Kid', for non-Elbonians - but it's no idle hobby, and it needs to be finished pretty quickly.

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Once again, things are changing around Mike Skinner. He's done the modern-day guttersnipe poet thing, he's done the concept album thing, he's done the "Fame = Hell" thing, and now we find him trying to make contact with the universal themes which govern all people.

Even if this wasn't apparent in his lyrics, you'd still get it because he has taken to using an orchestra in his new material. Orchestras aren't here for the little, mundane things in life, you see. You'll never heard an opera about a plumber changing a tap, for example, unless it's the beer-tap in Valhalla itself, and the future of mankind depends on Thor whetting his whistle before the sun goes down.

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When you consider just how desperate certain famous people are to try and stretch their name and branding across to items like perfume or lingerie, it's surprising that they don't go the whole hog and try and come up with some entirely new products. They would certainly get tabloid coverage, if nothing else.

I mean surely, if you're Mariah, say, and you've already done pants and a smell, you should be looking at perhaps a range of Indian restaurants called Mariah Curry? Or maybe branded portaloos called the Emancipation of Wee-Wee. Seeing as you're already selling out, why not have some fun with it?

So, in true Dragon's Den style, here are some golden opportunities for some of the acts who are currently in the charts. Starting with the virtual gold-mine that is the Kings Of Leon.

Ideas For Kings Of Leon Merch:
Kings Of Leon Chess Set: Includes Queens Of Leon, Rooks Of Leon, Knights Of Leon, Bishops Of Leon and of course, Pawns Of Leon.

Sex On Firelighters

Sex On Fire Curried Condoms (may not sell)

Sex On Fire Electric Blanket - (for gas fittings only)

Sex On 'Fire!' - A beginner's guide to livening up your firing squad.

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As sure as night follows day, spring follows winter and Madonna follows hot producers with a talent straw dangling from her teeth, a new Oasis album is always preceded by a great one-chord Oasis comeback single. The great one-chord Oasis comeback single is a ridiculously Oasis-y kind of song - kind of Oasis-squared - and one which goes back to the tatty old blueprint from which all Oasis songs are made, frames it, hangs it on the wall, and sets up sensitive mood lighting all around it.

The great one-chord Oasis comeback single is also usually the one Noel Gallagher says the band threw together in seconds at the last minute, and which he didn't really think that much of, dismissing it as lightweight and throwaway.

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This week's wonderful DVD extras contain some disturbing truths. And most of them revolve around one man, namely Dougie, the handsome, but troubled bass player with McFly. And I only say troubled because of his insistence on behaving in staggeringly inappropriate ways in front of entire media outlets, particularly Radio 1.

Have a really good listen to this interview Fearne and Reggie did with Tom McFly, if you dare, and you will hear tales which will chill your very soul...or at the very least, put you off cleaning...

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These are tough times for rocksnobs, I tell you. Still reeling from the horror of seeing celebrities - celebrities with No Proper Rock Credentials, no less - wearing Led Zeppelin and Ramones T-shirts as if they had paid their dues or something, they have then had to try and re-stock their froth glands in order to get a decent amount together to protest about boybands with guitars. Then there's the whole "Is Pop-Punk Still Punk?" debate, and the emo thing, and the fact that My Chemical Romance sell more records than [insert more credible band here] do...the poor souls have a lot to get frustrated about, and this record here isn't going to help matters one little bit.

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I must cop to being a bit confused when I saw this pop up on the new release schedule. "Isn't that a bit of an old one?" I thought - and then I went a-googlin' and discovered it was a re-release to tie in with their new Greatest Hits album, which makes this at least their third singles collection by my reckoning. Not that you can ever have too many copies of 'Only Love Can Break Your Heart' or 'Who Do You Think You Are', mind.

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You know when you've done something which is mildly embarrassing, but you don't really think that much about it until afterwards? And then it steadily becomes more and more embarrassing, the more you think about it, until finally you wake up at three in the morning, covered in a layer of fine sweat, sitting bolt upright and yelling "OH MY GOD WHAT WAS I THINKING?"

Yeah, that's what it is like to interview Dappy from N-Dubz, with a series of questions derived from the lyrics to the song 'Happy Talk' from the musical South Pacific*, only to have him declare that he doesn't have any nice dreams any more, not since the death of his father, two years ago.

And to be totally clear...in case you're not going to bother to listen to the lovely interview below...HE was totally fine about this. I, on the other hand, was not. Or at least, I haven't been since.

I just hope you can all find it in your hearts to forgive me.

*falls on own sword*

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Come on ladies, admit it. Which of you could fail to be flattered if one of your exes, let's say the most significant one, was so overwhelmed with remorse at the way things came to an end that he brought in Alvin & The Chipmunks to sing you a song about it? I mean those little fellas are FILM STARS, and here's the bloke you kicked to the kerb because, sweet as he is, he wasn't ever going to amount to much, and he's brought them along to sing those sweet, sweet, helium harmonies to try and win you round.

As a romantic gesture, it's right up there with a single red rose (which turns out to be made of sweets) or a moonlight stroll across a crazy golf course...

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NOTE: OK, see if you can guess what two-word punchline is missing from this delightful tableau.

Is it 'cool hat'? Noooo....

Is it 'Oi! Brassface!'? Nu-uh...

Is it 'wow! That is one bad hair day!'? Well obviously not, that's way more than two words.

I shall leave you failing to puzzle over that one, while of course reminding everyone that putting ancient diving equipment over anyone's head and then tying a knot in the oxygen pipe is just plan nasty, and can only lead to bad, bad things.

In fact, you could say (prrrrrmmmmmm) it's a road to no air. (TISH!)

How To Destroy Other People...

Is there some kind of third album jinx surrounding former Idol winners that we should be warning people about? Admittedly, I'm basing this pretty much entirely on Will Young and Kelly Clarkson, but as the two most famous Idol winners in UK chart terms, it's an interesting similarity. Not that either's third album was that unsuccessful, but they did both seem to underperform in comparison to their predecessors - particularly in the performance of the singles where Will is concerned, it being his first album not to yield a No.1 record.

I wondered if perhaps releasing a song like 'Switch It On' as the lead single was too much of a change of pace, and that put people off?

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Hey, want to make your dad either laugh hysterically or cry? Read this sentence to him...

John Lydon has signed up to be the new face of Country Life butter.

This doesn't mean they are actually making his face out of butter, although that might be worth considering, it just means that he will be in their adverts for a bit.

That's John Lydon, former Johnny Rotten, part-time Sex Pistol, former ostrich befriender, shouter at Kele from Bloc Party, and man who started punk rock.

If anyone is going to be able to convince the nation that Lurpak is evil, Flora is boring and margarine is made of powdered kittens, it's him, right?

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If you're an Olympic athlete, there's probably no such thing as trying too hard. If you work for one of the emergency services, or if you're a doctor, or a teacher, or a footballer, putting 110% into your work is not just statistically impossible, it's what's expected of you at the end of the day (damn, you mention footballers and suddenly you're talking like one. Obviously I'm disappointed with this outcome, but y'know, the lads have done us proud).

These rules do not apply if you're a musician. Musicians might claim that they do, but they don't.

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When this interview with a very sleepy Matt from Gym Class Heroes was first set up, the message which kept coming back to us was that anyone interviewing the band could ask ONE question about Katy Perry - she goes out with Travis from the band, you see - and ONE question ONLY.

Well, your ever vigilant ChartBlog is not so easily pushed around, let me tell you. Stuff your one question, we shouted (inwardly), you can't tell us what to do. You're not our dad! I hate you! Leave us alone! We're going to our room, and we're slamming the door!

So, like the true rebels we would like to think that we are (and probably are not), we ignored the rules sent down on us by, y'know, The Man, and went on to ask precisely NO questions about Katy Perry. Not a one. Not even a clever one. Yeah, that's right!

Here's our interview about texting instead. In your face, Heat magazine!

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No, no no, no, no, this will not do at all! I'm sorry James, but generations of stout-hearted Englishmen have fought and died for this country, just so that humble bloggers such as myself won't be pushed around by by some bull-voiced Chris-Martin-in-the-back-of-a-spoon lookee-likee from the West Country.

Does the name Waterloo mean nothing to you? Agincourt? D-Day? If you need things making 'real', perhaps you could get off your lazy, pampered, 'authentic' pop star behind and do it yourself. Or at the very least, you could say please and make use of the manners this country is rightly famous for all over the world.

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Red Blooded Women - 'You Made Your Bed'

"When you think of modern day girl bands, you probably think of denim miniskirts, cheap hairspray and fake tan. Now, imagine three powerful confident young women more likely to listen to Kraftwerk than Atomic Kitten, influenced by everything from Abba and the Carpenters through to Daft Punk and Depeche Mode. Imagine three young women equally obsessed with thrilling modern pop music coming from the likes of Rihanna, Justin Timberlake and the Ting Tings, as they are with '80s electro."

So it's the Sugababes, is it? Haven't we already got one of those?

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Stop it, Dad, you're scaring me!

If you believe the self-em-biggerising rhetoric of Jon McClure, the Reverend of Reverend And The Makers near-fame, there is no-one around at the moment who is prepared to stick their neck out and make any kind of political statement in their music...no-one except him, of course.

Well, even if this has been true until now (which it hasn't), here's something which is sure to make him happy, a political song which does not flinch from any of the issues around power and how it corrupts.

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It is not often that an interview which appears on ChartBlog contains information which is genuinely fascinating, but did you know that people calling you by your middle name is something which tends to happen in the southern states of America? I did not know this. And speaking as someone who also has a back-to-fronty name - my first name is Andrew, believe it or not - I am thrilled to know that there is somewhere on Earth where my people can be free to sign cheques and get a driving license without getting blank looks from officials in ties.

Of course, if everyone in the south was also left-handed, that would be just about perfect, but that might just be too much to ask for...

Here's No.1 Chart Star Caleb from the Kings Of Leon with some other interesting facts, including one about beards which will BLOW YOUR MIND, LADIES.

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Oh look! Estelle's got someone else in to help her do her new song. That's nice, isn't it? It's about time someone mucked in and gave the poor girl a hand, she must be exhausted carrying all those melodies and vocalisations on her own. And lonely too. It's like a kind of musical version of a Facebook wall or something. She does a song, and someone comes along and adds to to it. Sometimes their contributions make everything sound better, sometimes they don't (let's not mention the Kanye-free version of 'American Girl' again, seeing as some people got a little restless last time), but it's always good to know that someone's got your back.

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Poor We Are Scientists. They spend ages writing and recording high-quality indie rock songs, they tour them all over the world, they put their hearts into making the very best music that they possibly can, and they are ready, in a very real sense, to rock, at all times...but all anyone ever wants to talk about is how funny they are.

There was even an interview question the NME used for one of their festival specials over the summer where they asked a variety of musical stars whether they thought Keith and Chris would do better to cut out this music malarkey and just stick to making people laugh. Not one person said this would be a bad idea. Not one.

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This video here, dear ChartBloggerers, represents a musical hand-brake-turn as violent and incomprehensible as it would be if OneRepublic duetted with Slipknot, or the Killers went reggae.

Boyzone are back. This we know. For some of us, this is amazing, exciting news on a par with the reunion of Take That. For others (hello!) it's exactly what you would expect to happen after Take That got back together and did so well.

After all, didn't Boyzone ALWAYS let Take That break the new ground for them and then came along afterwards to cash in? Isn't this their default position?

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GUEST REVIEWER ALERT!

I'm going to lay my cards out on the table. I've heard this song millions of times. No lie. I had this song in my car and I was blasting it all last summer. I heard this song at my hip-hop dance class. Heck, I even downloaded the video to my MP4 player so I could copy the moves. With all this in mind, forgive me if this review is a bit biased.

If, like me, you've heard this song before, it's because it was given a download-only release last year. It failed to make an impact on the UK charts but with Chris Brown's recent success, 'Kiss Kiss' has been given a full release, to keep the Jordin Sparks fans interested.

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Apologies for the really old picture, but it's always nice to be able to contrast a discussion of high art - poetry, prose, lyrics - with a reminder that what pop stars sometimes do best is have massive cake fights on Top Of The Pops. Not that they can actually do it any more, obv, but still...

Here's Fran from Travis talking about poetry, in relation to his band's new album 'Ode To J.Smith' - an ode being a kind of poem, you see.

He also talks about why rappers can't write new songs, where Keats came up with his best stuff, and why critics are very important so long as they're nice.

There are no cakes in this interview, which, to my mind, makes this picture all the more important. You've got to have balance.

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Oh brilliant! I love anagrams!

On their last album, the Feeling had two songs which were basically the same song, one about being fed up that your special someone hasn't rung you, and you really want them to (namely 'I Love It When You Call' and 'Fill My Little World'). They don't sound exactly the same, but in the same way that you sometimes can't tell which one of identical twins is standing in front of you unless they are both there, it was incredibly easy to get them muddled up.

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Haha! I TOLD you Elbow were good, didn't I?

Here, here, and here, to be precise.

PS: Naturally, if someone I don't like had won, I would be claiming that the Mercury is meaningless, and saying it should have gone to Burial. That's awards for you!

There are many things which are a bad idea. Microwaving a baked potato from your bath is one. Attempting to fly by jumping off a tall building is another. Sex on fire? Well, in the abstract it sounds like a very passionate sort of a thing, and it's a cool metaphor, but the reality is probably less thrilling and more astonishingly painful than this song would suggest. I mean, yes you wouldn't be short of blankets to help smother the flames, and I suppose there would already be some rolling around, which helps too...but those hot coals are going to play havoc with your nether regions.

I suppose if you're having sex on an electrical fire it might be marginally better, in that you can just try and keep off the glowing bits, but in the main it's definitely a good idea to keep sex and fire as far apart as possible.

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A short while ago, a friendly ChartBlog reader suggested that we apply our scientific skills to measuring some of the levels of lyrical truth which are contained within the song 'I Kissed A Boy' by Katy Perry. The device we use to measure this is called the Lyriscope, and its job is to measure how feasible it is to live the words to any popular song you might care to name. All you need is a willing subject (hiya!) an actual Lyriscope (click on the pic for a full-size version) and a song.

NOTE: This is not a frivolous undertaking, so if it seems as though there has been a long delay in between the request and the delivery, well, that can't be helped. As you will see when you read on, living the Katy Perry dream is a risky endeavour. I mean, what if I don't like cherry chapstick?

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It's not for me to comment on the success or otherwise of the campaign by Cliff's army of fans (who all seem like very nice people and are clearly not the type of folks to send paid assassins to the houses of reviewers who are less than flattering to their main man, hopefully) to get this single to the upper reaches of the charts, by organising themselves to buy heaps of copies in the first week of release. That would give the game away, and I'm honour-bound to keep the game under lock and key until Sunday evening, in case any of the pieces go missing.

Of course, the fact that this song is appearing in ChartBlog at all is probably a clue as to how well it is doing. And this is news which brings a certain amount of dread in its wake...

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NOTE: Even though people get in a right old tizz about furs, such as the one Gabriella here is resting upon, it is still not a very nice thing to take one, design some form of flat robotic killing-machine innards for it, and then somehow arrange for a young, pretty pop star lady to lie on top, just so that you can destroy them. It sort of detracts from the argument that killing animals for their skin is bad.

And if you're the kind of person who doesn't mind animals being killed for their skin, it's STILL not a very nice thing to do.

SECONDARY NOTE: She didn't really kill it. I made that up.

How To Destroy Other People...

Oh brilliant, *NSYNC are back! Or is it the Backstreet Boys? It's one of the two. There's definitely something of the 'Backstreet's Back' to the chorus, but the rest of the song is pure pre-Trousersnake Timberlake. Apart from the bass solo, which has been pinched from the Who.

This is what we in the reviewing trade call 'range' on the part of McFly, and does them credit. Whether this super-pop production - with the emphasis on the word 'production' - it is in any way helpful to the age-old debate about whether they qualify as 'real music' or not is another matter, and a really boring one, so we'll not go there, OK?

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Speaking as someone who does a lot of interviews over the a crackling, disappearing phone line, and who also has to fight off an irrational urge to build a time-machine, travel back in history to the moment at which the first telephone (and the second one, otherwise what's the point?) was built, and administer a hefty whacking to whoever it was who actually did invent it (there's some debate about Alexander Graham Bell, and I'm often too grumpy at that point to do my proper research), this week's DVD extras make me very happy indeed.

For starters, this Eric Prydz one has a classic 'go back and pretend to ask the question again, please' moment from Reggie.

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Wouldn't it be nice if, in this review, instead of a pile of hate-fueled bile there were the pleasantly surprised words of one who has discovered a truly brilliant song from an artist they'd previously been rude about? Wouldn't it be lovely if I said that the band has produced some interesting instrumentation, witty lyrics and a catchy tune? Wouldn't it be really lovely, for everyone, not just me and Little Man Tate and their fans, if they'd made a song I really liked?

These questions have been posed before but this time it actually almost happened. Honestly, it did. I almost said I really enjoyed one of these rubbish chart indie songs that keep bloody appearing in my inbox. For the first sixteen seconds of this song, I was jamming previous words about Little Man Tate so far down my throat it's surprising I didn't projectile vomit when the verse kicked in.

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So, groupies or boobies? No, this isn't a Sophie's Choice-style ultimatum, or perhaps some kind of weird new daytime TV gameshow, but a raging internet debate about the new Pussycat Dolls single. Is the lyric in the chorus "I wanna see the world, drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies" or "I wanna have boobies"? It amused me to no end when I logged on to YouTube to see both sides of this argument still being hotly contested, but at least the song's getting people impassioned enough to argue about it, which can only be a good thing, right? (For the record, I'm fairly sure it's "groupies", although "boobies" is much, much funnier.)

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This is my current favourite thing in the world ever. There's been a survey put together by a psychology team from Heriot Watt University in Edinburgh, and it is basically offering you and your music taste out for a fight, using insults you've given it yourself.

Or rather, to explain this using actual sense, 36,000 music lovers have been surveyed about the kind of music they like, and the kind of person they are. The results have been put through various statistical models to try and pull strands together and see whether there are broad links between what people listen to, and what they are like. The idea is that certain types of people gravitate towards certain types of music.

Professor Adrian North is the man behind the survey, and he explained what they were attempting to discover: "We have always suspected a link between music taste and personality. This is the first time that we've been able to look at it in real detail."

"What this research really tries to get at is why music is such an important part of people's identity. People often define their sense of identity through their musical taste, wearing particular clothes, going to certain pubs, and using certain types of slang. It's not so surprising that personality should also be related to musical preference."

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Public Service Announcement here, people: you may remember that opera singers are notoriously fat. Huge, in fact. This is because, in the days before microphone loops and amplifiers, if you were going to fill a theatre you had to be pretty damned loud and you may have noticed that fat people tend to be louder than their skinnier counterparts.* Of course, it's not necessary to be fat to be able to sing but if you're going to belt out a bit of Bizet, it definitely helps. At the other end of the scale, of course, there are incredibly skinny people and, whilst again this isn't foolproof, it is generally true that there is a certain point of thinness past which a person's voice strangles and becomes extremely limited.

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Hello ChartBloggerers! I am offically BACK NOW, and eager to find out what has been happening since I've been away.

*Goes to look at ChartBlog, comes back*

Hmmm...apparently I have spent the last fortnight tied to a chair, being forced to listen to Madonna non-stop, all day long. Now, I have no recollection of such a thing happening, but I suppose that I could have just repressed the traumatic memories. And now I come to think about it, the suntan I thought I had does seem to be a bit patchy.

It's more of a criss-cross pattern, really, suggesting burns from a heavy rope. Hmm...

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Poor the Zutons. It's got to suck at least a little bit when people think that one of your best and most successful songs . That sort of gives the lie to the idea that any attention is good attention, doesn't it?

'What's Your Problem' doesn't get off to the most auspicious of starts, with the lyrically uninspired "What's your problem? / What's your problem? / I don't get what your problem is." Okay, so we've established that you're having some difficulty in determining the precise nature of this person's problem. Can we move on now?

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*Cough cough* Oh dear, I've been ill (boo), so I come back in today to find that the rest of the ChartBlog highjackers have thrown me on Sonny J - 'Can't Stop Moving'. As I search high and low for an excuse not to review this song, I nearly untied Fraser from his Madonna-soaked chair-prison. Then I decided to man up! Fraser is not ready for release and I can do this. *breathes*

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WARNING: I am speaking to you from The Past. This interview took place in Exeter, but more importantly, it took place way back in history, before August had even begun. Before we knew for sure that the hottest look for the summer would be wellies and a pac-a-mac, before Katy Perry left her indelible mark on our world, and before the invasion of the Space Lemurs.

OK, I'm guessing about that last one - did I mention I am currently in The Past? - but still, here's an interview I did with James from Hadouken! about the art of design.

I really like interviewing James from Hadouken!, because he doesn't mind answering stupid questions, and will actually often begin his answers with something like "oh, I was thinking about that the other day", which makes me feel better about having come up with the stupid questions in the first place.

Plus it's impossible to dislike a man who has developed an irrational hatred of revolving doors. Listen, and you will see what I mean....

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Possibly this is a bit out of date for The Kidz but who remembers 2001? Not the year, particularly, I mean the Dr Dre album. The one with 'Forgot About Dre' and, particularly, 'Still D.R.E.' on it. Aside from being one of the most amazing and hilarious albums ever created and having absolutely no lyrics I could quote in a place as polite as Chartblog, the album featured a lot of distinctive piano loops by Scott Storch. Storch famously went on to have beef with Timbaland and, err, Christina Aguilera but there's no failing to recognise his keyboard work from '2001.'

Or, well, possibly there is. I honestly spent about an hour hammering google for proof that this song was produced by Scott Storch, to obvious failure. The piano riff is absolutely lovely, though, so credit to K Warren, who I think is the actual producer of the song.

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'Cool' is not a word I like to use too often. When describing something that's 'cool', I either sound completely unenthused or like I'm trying to be down wiv da kids. But today, finally, I can use it, as no other word will do. Travis, the front man for Gym Class Heroes is cool, very cool. He just oozes 'coolness'.

It's fair to say that if I grew my facial hair to its full capacity, got tattoos on my neck, arms and knuckles, had two bull rings in my nose and tied my hair with random hair-bands in random places I would not be cool. I'd also like to think that if others tried, they would also suffer the same 'uncool' fate. But for some reason Travis pulls it off. No matter what this man does, he will always be cool...

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Seeing as Sigur Rós' new single starts as if an announcement is about to be made, it is only fitting that I start this review with one. Well, not an announcement as such, more of a, err, confession. So okay, here goes: I'm sorry to say it, but Sigur Rós bring out a Very Bad Side to me. You see, normally I am a share-y sort of person, especially when it comes to music, but the moment the band's 'Hoppipolla' was used on THAT 'Planet Earth' advert, and then THAT 'FA Cup Final' coverage, and then THAT 'Children of Men' movie, and then - well, you get the picture - after all this, I felt a bit sick.

There. I said it. You see, without meaning to sound like a Massive Hippy, Sigur Rós are the sort of band that are pretty personal. They are the sort of band that you listen to on your own, the sort of band you dream to... Okay, now I sound like a free spirit of the highest form.

So, anyway, in a bid to get myself over this horrific bout of Sigur-selfishness, I agreed to review their new single.* Its therapy. Or something.

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