The Single Life: DMA's, Chvrches & Calvin Harris

In Italy, they don't pick generic boy bands or power ballad singers as winners on their version of The Voice.

They picked Sister Cristina. A nun. A real nun.

And then got her to sing Like A Virgin (Universal). Really.

Other highlights of her run through the series included Girls Just Want To Have Fun, duetting with our Kylie on Can't Get You Out Of My Head, Flashdance, and - naturally - Livin' On A Prayer.

Musical fashion still seems to be rolling in 20 year cycles. Which - some might say ‘thankfully’, but I couldn’t possibly comment – suggests the grunge revival is fading like a Lowes flanno after a couple of machine washes. So, the really rather good DMA’s can happily reference Britpop stylings in their music, if not their Newtown wardrobe. Laced (I Oh You) strums admirably, without sounding too much like anyone from in particular from times past. As they increasingly find their own voice, they’ll get even better. And reduce the chance of being sued by either Gallagher.

However, some memories of the great unwashed heyday of the days when Seattle was the unlikely epicentre of still exist. Some even reform when the grudges and musical differences are finally set aside. Sleater-Kinney were lumped among the riot-grrls of back then, though possibly only marginally as they happened to be female. Their resurrection is marked with Bury Our Friends (Sub Pop), which they certainly may have back in the day. But this is more unselfconscious raggedy pop than navel gazing past the lint lodged there.

Billy Corgan avoids that whole personality clash thing by keeping the band name, and studiously avoiding anyone unfortunate to have been involved previously. So, for the purposes of this round of trading off the brandname, Smashing Pumpkins has the unlikely inclusion of Tommy Lee – yeah, Motley Crue, too many tattoos, Pamela Anderson, and so on – as part of the combo. Calling it Being Beige (Martha’s Music) makes the jokes almost too easy. But it’s ersatz epic as the still-faithful would demand, as he keeps whining into the void. As was ever thus.

Conversely, if you want to confuse expectations, perhaps take the most recognisable element out of your music. So, what happens when Chvrches remove Lauren’s wispy sing-song and has one of the beardy guys who stand behind her – in this case, the one called Martin Doherty – do the vocalising? The synths are mostly still there on Under The Tide (Liberator Music/Goodbye Records), so essentially they sound like a New Order covers band. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

But you’re looking for an Australian band likely to make pop for the world. Welcome back San Cisco. Run (Island City) is absolutely built to be a hit – without sounding at all contrived. Yep, it’s got a beat and you can dance to it. All bright and echoey, handclaps abounding over a bed of synths and rhythmic panting, and then into the big harmonied choruses, here’s a natural for the Triple J playlist and Hottest 100 thereafter.

Twerps are making Melbourne suburban noise which could also appeal to the world. The synths of Back To You (Merge) kind of whistle and squelch in the manner suggesting they’re due for a software upgrade, or possibly a grease and oil change. And they manage to perfectly express the Australian psyche of the current era, as Martin Frawley worries that ‘Someone out there is doing better than me’. But there’s probably half-a-slab in the fridge, or some Xanax left on the prescription, so you’ve still got something to sing about.

But if you want mixed messages, come ride down the waterslides of heartbreak with Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. Of course, you should wait half-an-hour to go back in the water after Quail And Dumplings (Drag City/Spunk). There’s softly delivered mood swings, the quiet desperate despair of modern living, and balding men who possibly shouldn’t be filmed in swimwear, or near hyperactive children.

The Church have not often been about the visual to soundtrack the dreamy landscapes of their music. In fact, there’s been some crappy videos in their past, either in the “stand by a wall and look moody” or “try not to look too uncomfortable when we take the guitars off you and force you ‘act’” school of awkwardness. Frankly, not much is going to be able to illustrate Steve Kilbey’s thought processes. But the ballerinas and stares into the middle distance of Pride Before A Fall (Unorthodox) don’t overly detract from the ebb and flow of the atmospheric noise they make sound so effortless, but obviously isn’t.

And then Calvin Harris, here featuring Ellie Goulding’s golden tones, makes a classic big-budget break-up song with Outside (Deconstructed/Sony). The synth hum is oppressive, Goulding voicemails in her reading the words that aptly don’t say anything, but make it certain to be one of those last songs of the night at one of those nightclubs we hopefully never have to be at. Synching on a Home & Away promo to illustrate a Summer Bay romance in trouble within days.