Shabby Ranks is back and grading this week's singles via some sort of arbitrary scale.

CONCORDE
Broken Bells/High Road
It should be a version of aural hell: trendy indie singer yells over a really hip producer's beats while a stylophone buzzes in the background. Actually, Danger Mouse is so good, that he crafts him out of The Shins and the strange noises into a big old enjoyable mess. Imagine that White Town of Your Woman fame would love it. Oxymoronic summary: Childishly sophisticated.

BOEING 777
Goldfrapp/Rocket
Goldfrapp ditch the hippy forest robes and launch into a song that comes directly from a straight-to-video 1986 Judd Nelson film. It's the tune playing when he realises what he has to do to win the girl back by passing his cycling proficiency and begins training to do it. Which is good, but does make you think that Goldfrapp are a trifle over-praised. Oxymoronic summary: Sharply gormless.

HANGLIDER
Gabriella Cilmi/On A Mission
Two years ago, Shabby saw Gabriella at a corporate schmooze affair singing that Sweet About Me thing. And from the moment she stepped on stage, we knew. Oh, we knew, alright. We knew we had to get three more bottles of Becks and a prawn vol au vent. She may now be using Joe Jackson's synths, one of Pink's choruses and shouting a bit more but really not much has changed. Oxymoronic summary: Movingly ineffectual.

PAPER PLANE
Robbie Williams/Morning Sun
Robbie's problem has never been a lack of a pithy phrase. “How do you rate the morning sun?/How many stars do you give the moon?” His problem is a searing neediness that leeches into his every breath. Oddly, given Robbie's addictive nature, this orchestral ballad that's not as good as his last effort, is a tribute to Michael Jackson. The beerhunter? No? Right. Move on. Oxymoronic summary: Soaringly earthbound.

BALLOON
A Fine Frenzy/Happier
Folky ditty that starts off sweet and jaunty, like Sarah Mclachlan singing an Erin McKeown number. It then veers off into the middle of the road, where it gets hit at top speed by a full on nasty Corrs backing, wailing singing and some kind of fucking bagpipe. The song never stood a chance. And it was so full of promise. Tragic, really. Oxymoronic summary: Girlishly masculine.