Here's a confession: I'm an absolute sucker for doll-faced female singer-songwriters. Not really flash on the Tristan Prettyman-type bombshells, or the Alice Cooper lookalikes. But you could deck Rosie Thomas in a pink pomegranate suit, or uncover a scandal involving Regina Spektor and a mid-morning romp with three Greek preachers at The Jungles of Zamondo Music Fest, and chances are I'll still lap up the music like a nobbyless noodlehead.So Aussie senorita Sarah Blasko, hear me now: I give in. Even if you dump the gushy electronica and go Missy Higgins pop, I'd give in. Even if you reconnected with your French roots and sprouted armpit hair, I'd give in. Even if you demanded that all genuine connoisseurs eat three bitter gourds before downloading one of your songs...
Ok, maybe I'm not that big a sucker. I'll just feed them to my pet armadillo. Her name is Caroline, by the way. Yes, DNA testing and 21 vets have all insisted that it is male, and its got biceps the size of a Mazda 929 and a nine-foot long schlong. But science sucks; favouratism rules.
Sarah Blasko - I Could Never Belong To You (from What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have)
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