Malcolm Middleton - Fuck It, I Love You

The Scottish male is not noted for its ability to convey emotion. Females of the species have been known to complain of stubbornness, misunderstandings and grudging romantic stuttering from their hopeless mates. Which is probably why Falkirk troubadour Malcolm Middleton lets his keypad do the talking: "Fuck it, I love you, there you go/ Three little words on a mobile phone."

Taken from A Brighter Beat, the album which validates his post-Strap solo status with wonderful aplomb, Fuck it, I Love You is a fine illustration of the type of 'pop' song Middleton is now patenting as his own. Typically, happiness is a fragile commodity, always at risk of being shattered by the heavy boulders of the singer's habitual self-doubt.

Musically, this translates into a striking alternation between a bright glockenspiel-tinged chorus and a minor-key riff which accompanies the mandatory angst: "When are you coming home? Don't wanna be alone." And just when the song has done enough to convince you that poor Middleton deserves his happiness, a crashing guitar-synth bridge batters all wishy-washiness into submission. It's arresting, but it conveys much more than a mere text. This Scottish male evidently has no problem expressing himself. [Nick Mitchell]