Gramophonedzie - 'Why Don't You'
I'm detecting a theme here. After the burlesque boom and all the Winehouse wannabes - and Wiley's reworking of that song by White Town that samples that other song from the olden days - here comes dance music's tribute to the era of jazz, swing and blues. And when I say tribute, I mean taking an old tune and hitting it with a massive mallet until it cracks into a million pieces, then putting the bits back together with micro-robots and spraying it gold.
That is simply how dance music likes to pay tribute to things. Can you imagine how messy Fat Boy Slim's funeral is going to be? Loads messy, that's how.
(Here's the video. It's like Being Human only no vampires or werewolves and more pants on the floor.)
'Why Don't You Do Right?' was recorded by Peggy Lee in 1942, as a mournful blues. Poor Peg's been having a lot of trouble with her man, you see. He's been playing the field, sowing his wild oats, and generally allowing other women to make whoopee on his dime, and now there's no money left. In short, it's a Beyoncé song from a time when Beyoncé was nothing more than a twinkle in the twinkle in her grandpappy's eye.
But now, thanks to the benefits of modern technology, there's a new (not new), improved (OK, you can have that one) way to experience this downbeat ditty without all of that wartime dust and powdered egg. Kids today don't have the attention span to listen to a whole song all the way through, you see, unless you repeat tiny fragments of it - a bit like they do on Teletubbies. So why not get a Serbian dance duo to goose things up a bit with some perky dance beats?
I said why not goose things up a bit with some perky, perky, perky, puh, puh, puh, puh, why not goose, why not goose, goose, goose (etc etc).
Of course, if you're trying to follow the story in the song, the happy bits don't make a heap of sense, unless they're supposed to represent the man's response. Peggy's all heartbroken and sad, and listen, her man is too busy living it up even hear her out. But even if that's the case, it's as jarring as R2-D2 and C-3PO strolling into the middle of Lark Rise To Candleford and setting up a Starbucks franchise.
Naturally, put that mix out in a club situation and things change dramatically. The crowbarred rhythm changes become a welcome opportunity for the ladies to swish about, wagging their fingers at the men, who are checking the pleats on their imaginary zoot suits. Everyone gets to have a little panto moment and the world becomes temporarily confused as to what year it is.
Or at least, they are in my mind. And if they are not, I for one do not wish to hear about it.