DiscoGlitterStompf

Y'know that feeling when you need to say something but you just can't form the words? A big admission, that kinda thing? So you just screw up your courage and let it all out like some bloated intestinal gas, y'know? Well... *takes a deep breath* ...

I-listened-to-some-tracks-from-the-new-record-by-Britney-Spears-last
-week-and-today-I-bought-the-album-and-I-quite-like-it-actually-I
-know-I-shouldn't-but-I-do. Sorry.

Twelve relentless tracks of pop-dance-electronica with lots of Britney's trademarked orgasmic 'oohs' sprinkled across the vocals. I can't help but wonder how much time she actually spent in the studio and whether she spent more time at the photo-shoot. Or is that malicious of me? All the songs have the same feel - I suspect it's been produced for the iPod shuffle generation so I'm not sure it's meant to be heard all the way through in one sitting.

The relentless dance beat changes for 'Ooh Ooh Baby' which has a definite Glitter Band stomp circa 1973 so I hope Mike Leander is getting a share of the royalties. The vocal line of that song also rips off 'Happy Together' by The Turtles but the wierd thing is that it actually works.

Anyway, I *like* it. After all, it's Britney, bitch!

But, um, well, there's more I'm afraid. It was involuntary, I swear it. Honest. It just happened.

I was listening to random music on Saturday afternoon when it happened. I struck a pose. I sang. I did interpretative movements. To ... well, you might as well know, to Kylie's 'Your Disco Needs You'! Y'know, the really butch sounding chorus where you just know that in the video, the men would all have their tops off and Kylie would be a goddess centre-screen, singing, 'Your disco.... Your disco.... Your disco.... Your disco needs you!'. That was me I'm afraid. And I believed it, I believed that my disco needed me. Not that I've been in one for an age, but that's not the point.

I don't know what came over me. Now, I do like a bit of Kylie (anything before about 1996 is hideous, but after...) but I've never joined in before. I must've been entrapped or something. I hope my home isn't being bugged by the secret service or the News Of The World.

Britney? Kylie? I need these urges balanced by the new Buffy or Amanda Palmer albums quickly. Should I check into rehab?

The Sex Pistols will save me. I have faith.