There is much to dislike about the erstwhile Fame Academy winner, not least his puppyish face which implores me not to put the bricks in the sack, tie the top and pitch it into the Thames. The fact that he isn’t just some sort of bland faceless Simon Cowell puppet but is much, much worse – he thinks he is a songwriter ferchissake. And his definition of songwriter leans heavily on a mid eighties Scottish definition which may include the words Amitri and Del. If we examine his songwriting credentials we soon see who exactly it is who is living a lie.
“He sits alone at a table in a small cafe
Drowning his tears in a bottomless cup of coffee
And hes tumbling into his thoughts
His memories are all tied in knots “
Now I know that Sneddon is Scottish – but this just means he sings in a bizarre mid-Atlantic accent. Nothing can explain the idea that the word “Thoughts” rhymes with “Knots”. There is not even any assonance – except the behind of Sneddon, and that is strictly the arse of a nonce. Look at the first rhyme he tries to palm off here. “Coffee” and “Cafe”. Very similar words, having exactly the same root. The only difference is the vowel sound – which is the thing that actually rhymes in words. Sure there share that nice c sound, nice f sound. But on that evidence Davis Sneddon Fuck Off would rhyme. Its certainly a more pleasing lyric.