12
Apr 15

CRAIG DAVID – “7 Days”

Popular66 comments • 5,993 views

#868, 5th August 2000

craig david days When Craig David’s manager heard the chorus of “7 Days” for the first time, he knew at once the 17 year old would be a star. The song made him. It also doomed him. “7 Days” is the most immediate single of the year, and also the easiest to parody. A committed, self-serious lad, David chafed at the attention of comedians, particularly Bo Selecta!’s Leigh Francis, whose consistent, surreal use of the singer was blamed by David for sabotaging his career. But “7 Days” is so ridiculous – and so catchy – that it attracted piss-takers like piranha to steak. That doesn’t make David’s hurt and regret less real, or void his case – the relationship between pop music and the rest of British culture, comedy included, was on the turn. But it doesn’t make “7 Days” less funny.

Perhaps I’m taking too much for granted, here. Surely some people listen to “7 Days” and hear the soulful, seductive record Craig David intended it to be. I find that easy to believe, but also hard to imagine, so I’ll try and unpick why it doesn’t work as that for me, even though it feels like explaining a joke. The central problem is that the chorus – and the title – sets itself up as a classic days-of-the-week riff, and then blows it, folding the last few days into “making love”. That’s poetically unsatisfying, and also turns “chilled on Sunday” into a punchline. Worse, the rapid cadence of “and on Thursday, Friday and Saturday” concertinas the making love section, making it seem rushed. The image that comes to mind isn’t four days spent in the sensuous reverie implied by the delicate arrangement and David’s cooing voice, but four days of rapid, trousers-round-the-ankles banging. Accurate enough, no doubt – we’re talking about an 18 year old here – but sophisticated? Not really.

Things get worse when you listen to the verses (which, to be fair, I suspect almost nobody did). On “Fill Me In”, David’s eye for the specific turned the risky fumblings of teenage lust into something evocative and dramatic. On “7 Days”, the detail is weirdly misapplied. The woman Craig falls for is completely anonymous – “a beautiful honey with a beautiful body” – yet it’s important to note that they met at “quarter past three” and she gave him a “six digit number”. The clever touch of having the rest of the verse framed as David bragging to his friends sets up the tantalising idea that the narrator could just be making all this stuff up – but the song doesn’t follow up, instead detailing the date and seduction at length, but never in detail. In the end the mates’ incredulous question – “Was it for real?” is the most credible moment. The whole thing sounds like what it is – a wannabe Casanova’s juvenilia, a seduction narrative written by a barely experienced kid.

There’s no harm in that – teenage boys brag, and dream of having things to brag about. In its way, “7 Days” is as authentic as “Fill Me In”, except it’s a product of awkwardness, not a song about it. And whether intentionally or not, “7 Days” is as funny as it is immediate and prettily executed. Heard a song on Monday, sang it in the pub on Tuesday, made our own one up by Wednesday… and so on. But where do you go after it? Once “7 Days” is loose in the world, can Craig David be taken seriously? Or as seriously as he wants to be, at any rate.

Leigh Francis thought not, and saw in Craig David’s earnest but callow self-presentation the perfect star to serve as the bizarre centre of his show. Compared to some celebrities, David got off lightly from Bo Selecta! – he was ubiquitous, but Francis doesn’t seem as hostile to him as he was to people like Mel B or Jordan. Francis has dismissed David’s claims of career-wrecking, pointing out that the singer’s star was on the wane before Bo Selecta! launched. And the sheaf of top ten hits David did score across the rest of the 00s show a man with a very limited range – the delicate soul-pop of his first two solo hits seems the beginning and end of his abilities, and as the UK garage element ebbed out of the music, most of the interest went with it. Would he have shown more ambition without the mockery? It’s impossible to say.

Ultimately, the signficance of Bo Selecta! isn’t really in its effect on any individual career. It was the attitude to pop music and culture that was new. The rise of alternative comedy intertwined with the rise of post-punk and indie music. In the 80s, alternative comedians found allies in some areas of pop – Madness and Dexy’s showed up on the Young Ones – and largely ignored the rest. Spitting Image touched on the most obvious targets but mostly had loftier ambitions. In the 90s, comedians and Britpoppers shared a constituency, and often a stage – Vic Reeves and the Wonder Stuff, Keith Allen and Blur, Baddiel and Skinner and the Lightning Seeds. They mounted a cultural takeover together – and then, suddenly, the pop end of the deal collapsed. Leigh Francis’ generation of comedians found themselves in a pop landscape where the music they felt most affinity for had fallen from grace, replaced with something that seemed the most obvious of targets. “I’m sick of you little girl and boy groups, all you do is annoy me…”

And so the minutiae, and the personalities, of pop culture found themselves in the crosshairs of comedy in a way they hadn’t been in twenty years, if ever. Bo Selecta!, and other shows stuffed with cultural detail and references, work on familiarity with, as well as contempt for, pop culture – a student viewer knew who newly famous pop stars like Craig David were, in a way that the adult viewer of a 60s or 70s impressionist might not have done. And the interesting thing is that this easy superiority became a default tone of British music coverage itself: Miquita Oliver and Simon Amstell’s enjoyably world-weary approach as presenters on Channel 4’s Popworld was immensely influential, giving broadcast media a snide wit the UK music press had always employed.

Mockery was an inevitable development given a pop world where access to the truly global megastars was so tightly controlled, and local musicians were hardly likely to retain much mystique when they increasingly came from the same university or drama school backgrounds as presenters. Sometimes you got the feeling those presenters and comedians – and later, the bloggers and broadsheet columnists – loved pop, in all its foolishness. Sometimes you got the feeling they despised it, or felt it had lost some invisible legitimacy after Britpop failed. Whichever it was made little difference to the outcome – snark reigned.

Was that a bad thing? It depended entirely on the targets. Reverence would have been the wrong reaction to the world of “7 Days” and Five + Queen. But the new atmosphere would suit some stars more than others, and Craig David – a serious young man who sung a silly song – choked in it.

4

Comments

1 2 All
  1. 1
    JLucas on 12 Apr 2015 #

    Can’t add much to the excellent analysis of this song – it’s smooth, superficially soulful and excellently produced, but the lyrical conceit makes it essentially a novelty record. It also has a problem in that it doesn’t paint David in a very positive light – he was far from the only pop singer objectifying women in his music at the time, but there’s a preening, inherently arrogant quality to 7 Days that makes it easy to understand why comics like Francis felt the urge to bring him down a peg or two. That he couldn’t allow himself to be in on the joke pretty much sealed his fate.

    That said, I agree with Francis that Bo Selecta isn’t to blame for David’s failure to build a lasting career. The main problem was simply that his material after this wasn’t very good. Walking Away- the single that followed this – is probably my favourite thing he’s ever done, but it’s all downhill after that. ‘What’s Your Flava’ – the lead single from his second album – is a terrible song, and it’s telling that it was a complete and utter bomb in America, where of course Bo Selecta had no influence. It felt like David wanted badly to compete with the Usher’s of the world at the time, but sacrificed his individuality in the process and ultimately came up with something sub-par.

    After that, who can even hum any of the others? He’s scoring top ten hits as late as 2007, a testament to the industry goodwill towards him, but I imagine they’d all be pointless answers these days. Maybe except the one with Sting that weirdly used the exact same sample as a (superior) Sugababes song that was out around the same time.

    5

  2. 2
    Mark M on 12 Apr 2015 #

    Well, I like it. Of course, the words are ridiculous, but I don’t have a problem with that. I read it, indeed, as a kid bullshitting. And the video* (where he’s telling the story as he gets his hair done) cuts against the loverman thing – he needs to go through the Groundhog Day scenario to turn himself into the playa he imagines himself to be.

    Anyway, just as importantly, woven through with the Spanish guitar bit, and the music is still interesting enough – he’s getting further away from UKG, but it’s still not completely boringly smooth yet.

    *I do sometimes think there’s a big divide between people who experience pop as a primarily audio-visual medium and those for whom it’s mostly audio.

  3. 3
    lonepilgrim on 12 Apr 2015 #

    CD seems a fairly likeable guy making a fairly silly but catchy record – it’s worth noting that this reached top ten in the US where presumably they had better things to do than sneer.
    The lyrics are half-baked but probably no more than several boy bands. The production is rhythmically sprightly but sonically dull.
    With a bit more care and attention this might have been something worth celebrating.
    I avoided Bo Selecta because blackface ain’t funny or ‘alternative’

  4. 4
    Andrew Farrell on 12 Apr 2015 #

    I admit I’m largely garage ignorant – is the vocal style on the verses representative of it? It sounds rushed, garbled – it fits with the idea of a kid making up porkies, but I can’t imagine myself enjoying it.

    #2 – I do also like that his perfect scenario involves him having change to give to the busker, catching the old lady’s balloon – sweet as well as horny. But bless him, he doesn’t give the impression that he really knows what to do with a naked lady at the end. Considering the fourth wall breaking just before, you almost expect him to flash a terrified thumbs-up.

  5. 5
    thefatgit on 12 Apr 2015 #

    It seems Craig David’s prospective road to redemption begins with a guest appearance in Conor Maynard’s latest video, so this Popular entry is timely indeed.

    “7 Days” sounds like novelty to me. A “Solomon Grundy” for the R&B crowd. Leigh Francis certainly did a number on poor Craig, but with oversimplified tosh like this, it was hardly unwarranted. When The Barron Knights did a homophobic parody of “Float On”; the song, already cringeworthy, became virtually toxic. Leigh Francis didn’t go as far that, but from Craig David’s perspective, it was equally as damaging. (3)

  6. 6
    23 Daves on 12 Apr 2015 #

    What’s amazing with Craig David is that the comedic parodies of him continued long past the point where his fame dried up. He was a figure of fun for longer than he was a star, which is a rarity in the media unless you’ve actually done something criminally appalling or deliberately drawn attention to yourself in a negative way. I used to attend a comedy night in 2008/9 where one of the host’s running gags would be to sing comment pieces from the day’s tabloid papers in a Craig David style. A simple and lazy running gag, but it always got a laugh (from me as well, I’m sorry to say).

    Looking back at his career again, I realise how much the comedy has distorted my image of who the man actually was. I was expecting to find an arrogant and conceited kid in the video for “7 Days”, but he actually presents himself as a sweet and slightly silly sod. The song itself isn’t really my bag, unfortunately – I’ve never much enjoyed this kind of slick, romantic smoothness – but it’s comparable in quality to numerous other tracks of its kind.

    Meanwhile, Leigh Francis’s impersonations of pop stars – if they can even be called “impersonations” – really were just hugely distorted, hall-of-mirrors styled affairs, taking one tiny aspect of the subject’s personality and stretching it unrealistically. Francis clearly picked up on David’s youthful naiveté and urban upbringing and twisted it into something akin to Billy Casper-as-bedroom-DJ. But if David had launched his career in the 70s or 80s, would anyone have batted an eyelid? It’s doubtful.

  7. 7
    Chelovek na lune on 12 Apr 2015 #

    The production and musical accompaniment on this track is pretty great (and quite too easily overlooked).

    The small matter of the lyrics, though….. well, yes, they are hilarious. I still can’t work out if they are intended to be taken seriously or as exaggerated boastful bragging – C D can’t quite pull off the “Mr Loverman” pose that convincingly (which maybe reflects well on him, but…) And it is all so terribly catchy. The effect at worst is only mildly ridiculous, but the tune,composition and musical accompaniment all go some way to make up for the embarrassing shortcomings lyrically (6).

    One other lyrical curio: I thought the later reference in the song to “the subway” was an odd Americanism in a track than in many other ways (unless the tale is set in Glasgow….but that seems even more unlikely).

    And I agree, that, “Walking Away” apart, his subsequent, surprisingly lengthy career, left little trace.

    * I have to say – one factor behind the ridicule of Craig David that has hardly been touched on here (and which was replicated by a possibly more ridiculous performer of, I think, several bunnies much more recently) – was the tendency, on several of his records (starting with “Re-re-wind”) , to either chant his name or have it chanted – possibly in the manner of pirate radio DJ, or to create a “pseudo live” effect. Probably this had the effect of drawing attention to the notion that the singer was something of an egomaniac to a greater degree than was warranted – but again there is an aspect of the ridiculous about this, ripe for parody)

  8. 8
    Phil on 12 Apr 2015 #

    I’d never seen the video, which makes the song both more understandable & funnier – which is to say, the song works best if you think of it as a joke. But there lies the problem – he’s playing the role of a teenage fantasist who wishes he was Craig David the cool dude, and simultaneously trying to persuade us he really is Craig David, cool dude. The problem’s exacerbated by the successful cop-off scenario at the end of the video, which suggests that his idea of being a cool dude is a lot like a Lynx advert. All told it makes more sense if you read it the other way, as telling us that what Craig David is is a nerdy wannabe. His image was ripe for some kind of deconstruction, although I’m sorry for his sake that it had to be Leigh Francis. (David Walliams did rather a good “Craig David” around this time.)

    That said, I like the song a lot better for having had a proper look at it than I ever did at the time. I’ll give it 5 – that’s 1 for making a bit of an effort on top of a “rather not hear this ever again but not actively bad” 4.

    #7 – watch the video and all is revealed. They really do meet in the subway.

  9. 9
    Andrew Farrell on 12 Apr 2015 #

    #7,8 the glaring Americanism in that line may be that his friend lives a couple of “blocks” from him.

  10. 10
    mrdiscopop on 12 Apr 2015 #

    “Miquita Oliver and Simon Amstell’s enjoyably world-weary approach as presenters on Channel 4’s Popworld was immensely influential.”

    …Although no-one ever matched their combination of scepticism, silliness and warmth. Instead they’ve spawned an army of clones who confuse sneering with wit.

    Having said that, I always thought of Popworld as the spawn of BBC Two’s The O-Zone (in the Middlemiss / Theakston years). Both featured presenters giddily playing with the conventions of a pop magazine show, while remembering the audience was predominantly made up of fans.

    As for Craig David, his fatal flaw was the mix of self-importance and banality. A man who wanted to say something, but never found anything to say. His records lapsed into cliche and anonymity the more he tried to take on the Americans at their own game (never a good idea).

    That 7 Days turned out to be his high point took almost everyone by surprise. Me included.

  11. 11
    Andrew on 12 Apr 2015 #

    #9 could they be the blocks of a council estate?

    #2 “I do sometimes think there’s a big divide between people who experience pop as a primarily audio-visual medium and those for whom it’s mostly audio.” – this is interesting for me. Growing up pop-obsessed in a house with four TV channels, I rarely saw pop videos, unless they happened to replace an absentee performer on Top of the Pops, or I was staying with relatives who had Sky or cable. I remember marvelling at The Box at my cousin’s house, but perhaps as a novelty more than anything – I didn’t subsequently ask my parents for a cable package.

    As such, I’m not often overly bothered by music video. I’ll watch if the video is the first opportunity to hear a song, but otherwise rarely seek them out, unless for a favourite artist – even then, I usually don’t bother watching more than once (recent exceptions: Lana Del Rey – ‘National Anthem’ and ‘Ride’ are incredible – and iamamiwhoami’s stunning ‘Fountain’).

    A clever video certainly can influence how you interpret the song. I’ve just given ‘7 Days’ a whirl on YouTube, having entirely forgotten it from the few views 15 years ago. Grinning to the camera at the end suggests his loverboy aspirations aren’t all that jokey.

    That said, while I agree with JLucas at #1 that Leigh Francis isn’t particularly to blame for Craig David’s career floundering (dull music and the self-seriousness Tom observes are nearer the mark, and perhaps that habit of referring to himself in the third person), to say that Francis was right in taking him down a peg or two would ring truer if Bo Selecta hadn’t shown fairly dubious attitudes towards women itself.

    As for the song, the chorus is novelty, the verses are almost too rushed to be dechiperable, and the monotony of the whole thing makes it pretty boring, although not as excruciatingly so as the vast majority of his future singles.

    Tom’s 4 sounds about right – precisely half as intriguing and half as good as the wonderful ‘Fill Me In’.

  12. 12
    Phil on 13 Apr 2015 #

    #9 – not necessarily; growing up in south London suburbia we used to talk about going for a walk “around the block” to cool off/get a minimal amount of fresh air/take the dog for the shortest possible walk/etc. A ‘block’ was just what you walked round if you took the first left, four times.

  13. 13
    flahr on 13 Apr 2015 #

    I grew up in south London urbia (?) and we did the same thing.

    Perhaps because I have no knowledge/memory whatever of David, Craig from the time (7, probably playing Pokemon Stadium at the time) I find “7 Days” immensely enjoyable; perhaps it is a novelty record but it’s such an imitable and carefree chorus that I find it very pleasurable to listen to. Plus it always makes me smile by reminding me of the droll synopsis that its Wikipedia page, alas, no longer contains:

    “The lyrics of “7 Days” mainly talk about what David does during a week with a girl. He meets a girl on Monday, and feels enough of a social connection to proceed by taking her out for a pint of mild on Tuesday. The night of alcoholic consumption results in a sexual relationship, causing David and his girl to have sexual intercourse on Wednesday. The sexual intercourse between the two results in further instances on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. By this time, such exertion takes its toll on the pair, who both decide to “chill” on Sunday, a day traditionally known for being one of rest.”

    Smooooth: [7] (days)

  14. 14
    Ricardo on 13 Apr 2015 #

    If I wanted to get phylosophical about this, I’d say CD’s fall from grace was no different from several others from performers who started out either as children or teens and whose peak happened right about those times. Whether it was Bo Selecta! or increasingly dull music the main culprit for the demise is not really the point. We’ve seen it happen before, up from the days of Donny Osmond, David Cassidy and Leif Garrett, at least. We can even say it’s the equivalent of Hollywood’s child-star curse, really. It’s almost a law unto itself.

  15. 15
    mapman132 on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Apparently got to #10 on the Hot 100, but I have no memory of it – either a testament of my increasing disconnectedness with pop hits of the time, the fact it didn’t have much lasting legacy in the US, or probably both.

    As to the rest of the topic at hand, I was curious enough to skim through part of the first episode of Bo Selecta online. Not exactly high comedy and I have no desire whatsoever to see it again, but it’s another data point in my perception that pop musicians have a higher position in the celebrity hierarchy in the UK than in the US. Here, whether as tabloid fodder, ridicule targets, or what-have-you, all but the biggest pop stars seem relegated behind movie and TV stars. Maybe Craig David would’ve been better off as an American!

  16. 16
    weej on 13 Apr 2015 #

    I still enjoy 7 days – as some have said above, CD knows it’s a novelty track and the video sets out the stall completely as him trying to sell a semi-developed fantasy to his mates. I find that funny and charming, can understand others not, but just depends how much you buy into CD as a concept. What really sells 7 days to me is the effortless leap between the triple-speed sing-talking of the verse and the smoothness of the chorus – such an instant earworm and it’s easy to forgive the ridiculousness.

    Re: Chelovek @7 and others – he really is talking about a subway (i.e. underpass) – as shown in the video, and I know very well the one he would’ve used basically every day when he was going to Southampton City College.

    Re: Discopop @10 – Good spot on the O-Zone there, I would say their sarcastic coverage of rollerskating boyband E-Male was pure popworld stuff.

  17. 17
    swanstep on 13 Apr 2015 #

    I like this a lot (an easy ‘7’ or ‘8’ for me). The song plays pretty straight to my ears (much as John Lennon’s songs early and late tend to): the “Was it for real?” is directly and forthrightly answered: no tantalizing possibility that the described situation is unreal is thereby seriously raised.

    The video is a huge mistake in my view for re-opening those questions that the song itself definitively puts to bed. I’m kind of amazed watching it that David managed to put together a vid. for 7D without any slinky stepping and dancing in it; that’s just kissing a million bucks goodbye (at least in the US market).

    That the middle eight is underdone is about the only criticism I have of this track. Together with ‘Fill Me In’ and ‘Walking Away’ (which was finally what got David to #1 in NZ), 7D forms one of the finest opening string of singles I can think of. It’s just too bad that David hasn’t been able to follow that up with any real conviction (whining about satirists is pointless – presumably the pisstakers responded simply by adding whininess to their caricature).

    Anyhow, I disagree with almost all the mini-jabs Tom tries to land – the concertina-ing of Thursday-Friday-Saturday strikes me as witty and (as Tom ultimately acknowledges) accurate and no objection. I think the track’s pretty sexy but not ‘sophisticated’ – no, the sort of movie-like meet-cute leading to a wild week that ends up feeling a bit like a dream that the track describes happens to a lot of people eventually (especially when traveling In my experience, so there’s a connection where the clock’s running, but we all have our stories I suppose). I don’t think the song’s silly or that David’s talking himself too seriously either, or that, prima facie, singing this song should have been such a big risk once it’s ‘loose in the world’. Rather, David should have just concentrated on having a million other stories in the Naked City to tell – 7D’s one was cute, no biggie. For me, then, an:
    8

    p.s. I don’t hear 7D as a novelty song at all. Now, Barenaked Ladies’ ‘One Week’, that’s a (so painful….) novelty song.

  18. 18
    IP on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Don’t underestimate the beard. It’s a very silly beard.

  19. 19
    Jonathan on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Reading the review and comments is a weird experience: Even with Tom’s explanation, I barely understand that there’s a joke? Is it that R&B lyrics are sometimes silly? Like, I guess these are, but no sillier than some of, say, Usher’s and, with that genre’s tropes in mind, no sillier than those of many other pop songs. I mean is this any more ridiculous than “Friday I’m in Love”?

    Also, I have no idea what a Leigh Francis is.

  20. 20
    DanusJonus on 13 Apr 2015 #

    My memory of this is that it sounded quite slick and catchy on first listen buy soon suffered from overexposure. For some reason, the more more and it was played (and it was everywhere, particularly on the music channels), the more certain irksome things became apparent. The call and response in particular didn’t work for me. BUT, the chorus does save things.

    Although it’s not a sign of how well things become ingrained in people’s mind, even now, 15 years later, if you give someone a 7 day itinerary they’re likely to say ‘Craig David’ to you. Not sure you could prompt someone to name many other number ones from the time, though as one comment says, the link to Solomon Grundy possibly also explains it in this case.

    This would be a straight down the middle 5 (6 if it was Thursday Friday or Saturday) for me.

    Re: The Popworld debate. Apologies if this has been mentioned (I’ve tried but can’t find reference to it!), I always liked the ‘did you know?’ of stating that Miquita Oliver was the daughter of the Rip, Rig and Panic singer Andrea Oliver.

  21. 21
    swanstep on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Oh yeah, what’s the significance of ‘six digit number’? Something to do with assumed area codes? Mobiles? Pagers?

  22. 22
    jim5et on 13 Apr 2015 #

    This is about an 8 for me – it is funny, but it’s also memorable and sharp. However, the reason CD will never recover for me has nothing to do with the ghastly Leigh Francis, but is because of When Fearne met Craig David, which is still possibly the funniest thing I’ve ever watched on TV. He has naked photos of his exes on the walls of his penthouse!

  23. 23
    Shiny Dave on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Might have referred to pagers in 2000 actually, but most likely the woman in question is from the same area and that’d be the significance of “six-digit number.” Although by the time the track came out, several areas – including David’s own Southampton stomping grounds! – had switched to eight-digit numbers when the 02x area codes were introduced. David would’ve had to throw an 80 before the “six-digit number” after the parallel running of the old and new numbers ended at about the time this was released. Assuming it was that kind of six-digit number.

    We’ll see far nastier misogyny in future R&Bunnies, and we’ve seen far nastier misogyny in “The Real Slim Shady” – nicely done with the segue into the quote from that, Tom, I take it you’ve had that one planned for a while? – so I don’t know how much I can mark Craig David down for what should go down as one of the great so-bad-it’s-good lyrics. Perhaps he was essentially aping American sounds in the same way so many 20th-century Brits did, and it’s not like Southampton was a hugely diverse city with the critical mass of diversity to create its own scenes like London – in fact, looking at 2001 Census data David would’ve been one of under 2,500 black people in Southampton at the time. Of course, it was one of those London “scenes” that David tacked onto and came to half-define…

  24. 24
    James BC on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Popworld was great. In fact the only bad thing about it was the inclusion of segments by a just-starting-out Leigh Francis. He played an awful character called, I think, Barry Gibson. Head-shakingly terrible. This may have been in the Lauren Laverne days before Simon and Miquita took over.

  25. 25
    Tom on 13 Apr 2015 #

    #19 Leigh Francis is broadly explained in the first paragraph – comedian, tormentor of CD. I don’t advise going any further than that, really: he may not have poleaxed CD’s future chances, but he’s a pretty dreadful comedian in any of his incarnations.

    (I don’t like “Friday I’m In Love” much either – but it does what nursery rhymes like Solomon Grundy do and what “7 Days” doesn’t, which is make its ‘something for every day of the week’ conceit last an actual week. Though obviously it’s a matter of taste as to whether this misdirection is annoying or effective.)

    #17 I think it would have worked better as a “one wild week” story, though as it happens CD is at pains to close that off with the third verse explaining at length how he’s a keeper. (He doesn’t sound terribly sincere or convincing, IMO, but we’ve established I’m listening to this more cynically than some.)

  26. 26
    Ronnie on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Count me in as also someone who fails to see anything funny, intentionally or not, in this song. If you turn on pretty much any Jeremih or Jason DeRulo song you will hear three dozen funnier lines, and delivered with a far more evident (and hilarious) lack of charm, than anything Craig David could do.

    I don’t get it. This review just leaves me deeply confused.

  27. 27
    Matt DC on 13 Apr 2015 #

    Craig David is Jewish and apparently now very serious about it so technically he should be doing his chilling on Saturday.

  28. 28
    TFarm on 13 Apr 2015 #

    For my money, the video is entirely transformative to the likeability of the song – here its a narrative being reinvented, and perfected, in the retelling. Monday is run through several times while the right story is found; the awkward moment of not having a watch redeemed by an ostentatious one; David literally stepping out the frame to rewind a date-killing wine spill. And each narrative sticking plaster is an admission of messing up. The barber shop is a venue for David to hold court in front of a boy’s club that he’s obliged to impress, and to my eye the tale ends on a fantasy told for this audience. I came to the video expecting to be riled by having to watch David showing off, and left rather liking him for the same reason.

  29. 29
    Phil on 13 Apr 2015 #

    The joke of it is that it sounds like a surprisingly callow, immature brag for a smooth, sophisticated megastar, until you realise that the genuinely successful & sophisticated CD is playing the role of a callow, immature teenager bragging to his mates… by pretending to be the successful sophisticated smoothie that he actually is. That’s probably one layer of irony too many for a #1 single – particularly when CD’s age, and his own idea of sophistication, don’t look very different from the imaginary teenager’s – and it’s not surprising that satirists walked all over it. Shame that one of them was Leigh Francis, though.

  30. 30
    Tom on 13 Apr 2015 #

    I never saw the video, which I suspect would have made me like the song more, and I think #28 and others are right that it improves things. I’ve enjoyed the defenses here, but ultimately compared to “Fill Me In”‘s precision I still think this is charmless, and places its details in weird and annoying spots.

    #29 I like this very dense reading! But given that it was a very early song (if the manager story is true) I suspect there’s yet another layer, of successful CD performing a cover version of his own immaturity.

1 2 All

Add your comment

(Register to guarantee your comments don't get marked as spam.)


If this was number 1 when you were born paste [stork-boy] or [stork-girl] into the start of your comment :)

Required

Required (Your email address will not be published)

Top of page