Dead On Arrival, The 90s Revival (Part 4)

Dr Alban “No Coke” When I started my own MP3 blog, the now-defunct PopNose, this was the first record I selected for it. I chose it with a certain trepidation: “Tom,” I told myself, “People will think you’re just going to stuff this blog with any old tat that catches your passing fancy. They’re right, of course, but isn’t this giving the game away a bit?”. Then I remembered that “No Coke” is in fact a masterpiece that anyone with half a heart and half a hip would enjoy. It starts with a really filthy synth waggle then lopes into an infectious digi-ragga groove while the singing Swedish dentist Dr Alban gives a very reasonable account of the Perils Of Drugs over the top. “crack in the morning, crack in the evening, crack in the night and crack non-stop” he warns before talking about his DJ mate Denniz Pop for a verse, not because he takes or shuns drugs but just because he’s a nice bloke and deserves a mention.

I have been voting for Europop in the ongoing poll to decide what MP3 I should put up on Sunday. Because I love Europop. In my darkest hours, when pop in America seems scarred with a disfiguring glamour and pop in Britain crippled by a smirking self-consciousness, Europop delivers. It understands that hooks and tunes are supremely important, that concepts matter, that one should take oneself entirely seriously while being absolutely unconcerned with non-sonic trends. It also understands – and this is crucial – that being ‘good at rapping’ need have no bearing whatsoever on whether a rap works in your song. Dr Alban would disgust and horrify Rakim but I have gradually come to realise that my appreciation for his avuncular, polite flow goes well beyond ‘irony’; I just think he’s a marvellous MC.

The Europop formula has in some ways changed dramatically since the early 90s. Socially-conscious Swedish reggae is out; a dance-tinged return to the melody-rich days of Polar Studios is in. But most of the personnel stayed the same. Poor Denniz Pop didn’t make it – he died of cancer in the mid-90s, shortly before his partner Max Martin started writing for the Backstreets and Britney and conquered the world. I love Alcazar, Annie, A-Teens and all the rest but in some ways the early-90s stuff is what I love best – on the surface it seems unlikely that its sound will be back other than as a nostalgic pleasure, but the hipster cachet of ‘bad rappers’ like Fannypack, Northern State and the Beastie Boys suggests that there may be a place in our heart for rapping dentists yet.