Record Collection by Mark Ronson – Album Review


by Matt Callard

Ooh, it’s the It Guy. Credentials? Some hip-hop pedigree, multi-instrumentalist, decent ear for new talent, coupla Amy Winehouse-affiliated Grammys, Bob Dylan remix approved by the man himself, nice suit, cool label, occasional foray into pure pop production (Robbie Williams/Lily Allen) and, of course, a contacts book to die for.

record collection mark ronson coverBut the Mark Ronson industry is stomach turning. Like Florence and her bloody Machine, I hate being told what to like. I hate the boardroom slickness, hate the horrid, all-pervading stench of The Man, hate the ‘brilliant’ videos and ‘amazing’ live shows.

“Much more than a rubbish DJ who got lucky”

I hate the way this music comes looking for you rather than you discovering it. I hate his contrived attempt at self deprecation in the title track. And I even hate the way I don’t hate this record as much as I want to.

Boy George sings his heart out in a neat nu-soul ballad, Rose Elinor Dougall nails two lovely pop ditties and Ronson generally proves he’s much more than a rubbish DJ who got lucky.

Unfortunately he remains the DJ that all other rubbish DJs wish they were.


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