Carly Rae Jepsen
Call Me Maybe (Interscope)
If you're the DJ at the Celibacy Club disco, or Annie Lennox, you may think the charts have become too "sexualised" and blame someone called Ree-Hanna. In which case, you'll like Call Me Maybe, because it harks back to pop's more innocent past. If you're a trashbag groupie, you'll like it too, because it will be the soundtrack when you finally get with that last Jonas Brother. And if you're a masters student in Pop Song Semantics, you'll like it because the chorus - "Here's my number, so call me, maybe?" – nails the way a teenager feigns nonchalance around a potential new boyfriend. I say "teenager", I'm the wrong side of 25 and I still do it.
Marina And The Diamonds
Primadonna (679/Atlantic)
I was enjoying this spunky pop thumper about a vacuous but provocative hussy until my imagination got the better of me. I managed to resist when I heard the line "Would you do anything for me? Buy a big diamond ring for me?" I even swatted away "Beauty queen of a silver screen/I'm living life like I'm in a dream". But then Marina delivered the killer blow: "I know I've got a big ego/I really don't know why it's such a big deal though." Now, every time I hear this song, I see Samantha Brick.
Conor Maynard
Can't Say No (EMI)
Whereas this serviceable electro-R&B ditty never stood a chance. After Conor Maynard honked "Houston, I think we got a problem" for the fifth time, I was ready to shake the little Butlins Bieber and forbid him from taking Whitney's name in vain ever, EVER again. For this, I blame the National Enquirer.
BoB
So Good (Atlantic)
On which the rapper whose mum calls him Bobby equates getting the girl with, um, getting the girl's passport stamped. He tempts her with Barcelona, Berlin, Paris, Rome and "five-hour layovers from Norway to Egypt", presumably in case she's got a thing for airport terminals. I'm looking forward to the answer song in which a female rapper called KaC tells him she'd rather stay at home and watch The Voice.
LMFAO
Sorry For Party Rocking (Interscope)
For those who've missed the LMFAO "phenomenon", here's a primer. One member is the son of Motown founder Berry Gordy. I'll call him LMBFAO. The other member is Gordy's grandson, so logic dictates that he should be dubbed LMLFAO. However, LMBFAO isn't the father of LMLFAO, but rather his uncle. Feeling confused? That's OK. The important point to note is that LMFAO are a pair of pop-rap pillocks. Sorry For Party Rocking has beats that sound like gerbils shagging and lyrics that match them for sophistication. Remember when Louis Walsh claimed Berry Gordy was dead? When he hears this, he'll wish he was.
