JOHN Legend is a daft name. I much prefer his real moniker, John Stephens.
Or if he had to do that attention-seeking, headline-abbreviating, single syllable thing (Lorde, Prince, Pink) I’d have gone with John. John’s a sound name.
To be honest, I’m not even won over by his hit single All Of Me – it’s certainly not up there with Percy Sledge’s soul-squeezing When A Man Loves A Woman or Eric Clapton’s enduringly romantic Wonderful Tonight.
But something about John’s song (sorry, can’t write Legend with any seriousness) has plucked at my heart. Both the video - a monochromatic, deeply intimate portrayal of his relationship with his wife - plus his performance at the Grammy Awards, where he stole glances at her — “you’re my end and my beginning” — feel like an unashamed, old-school, handwritten letter to love.
Because I can’t remember the last time a man stood at a microphone or sat behind a piano and belted out a ballad to a woman he adored. When a straight, contemporary male artist had the confidence to stand up and sing “I love you so much.”
Sure, accuse me of retro sentimentality, of failing to get down with ghetto-speak (indeed you must, if only on the grounds of my dubious fascination with Rod Stewart). But I don’t want those power ballads for me — I have a whole back catalogue seared in my soul: Otis Redding, U2, Robbie Williams, Bryan Adams, Hunters and Collectors — I will kiss you in four places.
No, I want them for Gen Z and beyond because what the 80s and 90s lacked in fashion they made up for with songs that took you from picnics to bars to bed to Sunday mornings. Even books - Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity and David Nicholls’ One Day - reinforced the idea that it was OK for a song to seize your heart.
Now it’s all about grabbing you in the groin - shocking, crude, ugly songs that seduce with a catchy melody but taunt with an offensive message. “Are you up for this?” Robin Thicke is goading in Blurred Lines when he sings about trying to domesticate a woman but her being an animal.
Now Enrique Iglesias, the Artist Formerly Known As Heart-Melter, has come out with a vile piece of porn pop called I’m A Freak.
The video clip reinvents the Hefneresque pool party, complete with obligatory twerking, near-naked women spanking each other, simulated sex, shot slamming and cream licking.
This from a man who 13 years ago brought us the exquisite, tear-inducing Hero.
I want to slap Iglesias — clearly not in the way he likes — but on behalf of my daughters, who deserve better than this.
and a clutch of insipid men who clearly lack the balls to match them at it.
Totally agree, been hearing this song on smoothfm lately, it's sweet, nice for reflective moments.
"The soundtrack of their youth increasingly comes from big, fierce power ballad chicks — Pink, Adele, Alicia Keys, Beyonce, Rihanna — "
I'm glad she didn't mention Miley Cyrus lol. Has anyone heard Rihanna's latest?
You don't hear that sort of song on smoothfm, btw 
