From The Guardian:
For all the woe-is-us handwringing in the music industry, a lack of creative innovation undermines it far more than filesharing. A pop meme will crop up – David Guetta’s one-note riffs, say, or the feathery singers deployed on John Lewis adverts – and get run into the ground with ever-diminishing returns. Yet truly fresh songs shine all the more in this environment, and Call Me Maybe shone like a prom queen tiara atop a freshly waxed limo.
Its backing meanwhile is full of bushy-tailed strings and PG-rated guitar chugging; Jepsen’s hairbrush vocals are charmingly heartfelt, and easy enough for popular Hollister-clad girls in schools everywhere to emulate. The lyrics, full of wishing wells and ripped jeans, were almost certainly written with hearts dotting the “i”s. And herein lies its charm: the climactic rush towards the chorus isn’t fraught with sexuality, but merely the giddiness of tweenage infatuation. Released amid a serious, very grownup breakup I went through this year, it was as inspirational as Usher’s Climax (Guardian critics’ No 2 pick) was devastating – love isn’t about adapting to perfection’s erosion, Jepsen says, it’s about phone numbers and emoticons and cute boys glancing at you in Pizza Hut.
Continue reading the rest of the story on The Guardian