2008's Finest Five - Fraser McAlpine
My turn now. And I can't help but notice how all of our lists are dominated by female performers. I'd be tempted to suggest that this means that 2008 was officially The Year Of Women In Pop, but then that would mean 2009 would have to be The Year Of Some Other Arbitrary Thing In Pop, and we'd have to ask all the girls to pipe down. Plus it's more than a little bit condescending to lump all women together as if they're the same, so let's not go there.
Speaking of which...
The Ting Tings - 'That's Not My Name'
11 months on from writing about how this song had taken over my head, it's still there, and I doubt it's going anywhere any time soon. Built on loops, but played live, put together as a round (like London's Burning) but half sung, half yelped, and straddling the line between addictive/annoying in the manner of all great pop music ever.
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The bit where Jules the drummer changes rhythm at the end - making the whole song seem to shudder and lift off the ground - actually brought tears to my eyes at Radio 1's Big Weekend. That's the power of perfect pop, my friends.
It's become a cliche of Keane reviews that you have to, at some point, refer to Tom Chaplin as a choirboy, and until fairly recently I assumed this was just because of his round little face, his easily-reddened cheekular area, his high, pure voice, and the fact that you can picture him in a cassock in a way which is just not true of, say, the lead singer out of the Pigeon Detecives. 
In any long-term chart career, there are going to be highs and lows. There are going to be times when everything you say, every note you sing and every outfit you wear are seized upon as icons for the modern age, and then there are going to be times when you are just another pop act putting another single out, and there is nothing you can do to make people look pleased to see you.
There are two essential elements to a satire:
Whoo! Yeah! That's right! It's Christmas, baby! Party-time! We are going to go CRACKERS! Or at least, it WOULD be party-time, and we would go crackers, if only there was someone who could, y'know, take the party, and, kinda...get it started, yeah? Someone who doesn't give a stuffing flip about The Rules, someone who could lead us all - Pied Piper-style - into an endless rolling orgy of bad behaviour, celeb-spotting, girls using the boys' toilets, elephant-riding and stuff-breakery. Someone for whom attitude is key, and authority is the devil. 
If you recall, a short while ago I had a nice chat with 
The idea of giving people pre-emptive BRIT Awards is still a very controversial one, and not really something that works. I mean you don't get referees who call the results of a football match before it has been played, you don't get literary prizes handed out based on which author a panel believes will come up with an amazing novel (given sufficient time, inspiration and a really clever thesaurus), and you don't give a tip in a restaurant based on the idea that when your food finally arrives, you know KNOW you're going to love it. 
Should an alien spaceship decide to land on Earth between now and Easter, and demand to know what this strange frequency-manipulated sound phenomena called 'popular music' is, and how it works, it might be worth playing them this song. And no, not because we want to start an inter-planetary war right away. We've got Rick Astley for that, after all. 
INDIE CHRISTMAS SONG CHECK-LIST:
Are the Kaiser Chiefs all right? I'm not asking that in the sense of one of those weird internet pop up adverts which inexplicably asks you "DO YOU LIKE LEONA LEWIS? YES/NO" as though anything is ever that straightforward, but I can't help feeling they seem a bit out of sorts these days. A bit tired, maybe. Listening to this single gave me an odd urge to nip round and offer to make them all a cup of tea while they put their feet up.
You can blame seasonal affective disorder if you wish, but I've been mentally calling this song 'Shut The Crackers' ever since the Snow Patrol album first arrived on my desk. And now it is being released as the band's big stab for Christmas No.3 status (after the X-Factor winner and whichever old school festive classic takes the public's fancy this year).
Whoo! Nice video! They say the best things are always the most simple, and what could be simpler than shooting a black-and-white video against a white background? No need to worry about it being boring either, just throw in a few inky swirls here and there, twirl the cameras around a bit, and you've something that feels sumptuous to watch, and serves the song rather well. Well done everyone!
After the fight-tastic success of 
It takes a certain amount of nerve to put a single out this late into the Christmas season without a single solitary sleighbell or festive reference, don't you think? Especially a song which definitely does not offer goodwill to all men, or look back on the past year with affection. 
Blimey, no need to trouble the Trades Descriptions people with this lot (apart from the slightly unsettling boyband name), is there? They're Boyzone (tick!) and they are better (tick!), to quite a startling degree, and it's not just nostalgia talking. 
I always thought I agreed with the idea that nothing is really sacred in music. You can cover any song you like, sample any piece of music you want, and people should judge the result on its own merits. It's not as if a bad cover really diminishes the original in any sense (or at least, that's what I used to believe). 
Hello! Welcome to the introduction! Stop what you are doing, and listen! We've got the trumpets, we've got the fanfare, we've got the musical super-drama - the like of which you would normally expect to hear in a straight-to-DVD children's film, with an evil genius unveiling his super-robot-zombie and cackling demonically while he rubs his poor chapped hands (due to excessively cold and damp working conditions in the lab) - and most importantly, we've got your attention. 
There's a minor gripe I need to get out of the way first, so to apologise for starting with negativity, I shall lace it with a compliment: I like James Morrison. I like his voice, I like his songs - he's that rare breed of guy-with-guitar who doesn't irritate me in any way, and 'You Give Me Something' still gives me goosebumps when I hear it. However, let's talk about those album titles: I was willing to overlook 'Undiscovered', despite it being a bit cloying as first album titles go, because it did at least make a lick of sense when heard in the context of the title track. But 'Songs For You, Truths For Me'? No no no no no. That will not do at all. Get back to album-naming school and don't come back until you've learned something, Morrison.
Media Studies undergraduates! Students of popular culture! I might have an idea for a killer thesis, if you're willing to do a bit of research (and don't mind opening a Bible, I know some of you are touchy on that subject). It goes a little something like this...