Right Said Fred, in the wave of global fame that followed their 1991 mega-smash “I’m Too Sexy”, were unlikely celebrities. The two shaven-headed Fairbrass brothers seemed to have accidently wandered into pop and were laconic, likeable stars. There was something parochially British about them, even as Madonna claimed she wanted to shag them. Success of that calibre disappeared after a series of jolly hits, and the last this writer heard of them was when some thug drew blood attacking Richard Fairbrass at a gay rights rally in Russia a decade ago. Which only made them more likeable.
Apart from Germany, then, where their mainstream success continued well into this century, it’s safe to assume that Right Said Fred don’t have a hefty following in the manner of, say, Radiohead. Their new album is, rather unbelievably, their ninth and showcases a duo who can still write a tune, but sadly – because it’d be more fun to disconcert the snobs – they come unstuck via production and a general naffness. Then again, they probably revel in the latter.
The default setting throughout is summer holiday disco pop, but the production sounds cheap, undermining the sense of ebullience on songs such as “Me and You” and the single “Sweet Treats”. “Only When We La La Love” sounds like a Lidl version of Roxy Music with a chorus most couldn’t sing without shrivelling a little inside, and “We Are Believers” is a sort of hi-NRG terrace strum-along that misses Pet Shop Boys’ sense of triumphant camp by some distance.
Two songs, “One Fine Day” and “Raining in England”, are better. Both are simple melancholic numbers, but even these have embellishments such as a sample saying “Here we go”, an unnecessary soul vocal, and lyrical silliness. Then again, who’s going to start disliking Right Said Fred because of this album? Who’s not going to watch them lead a festival crowd through “Deeply Dippy” because of it? No-one. That’s who. They’re just not that kind of band.
