2009 was the year of the female. It was impossible to glance at the centrefold of some indie publication without being blinded by the latest electro feline wearing iridescent leggings and lashings of lipstick. Florence, Metric, and La Roux – to name but a few – had every man in Britain, regardless of sexual orientation, scratching their thighs in restless agitation. The only thing more dangerous than a lip-syncing yet irresistible Sugarbabe is a babe with talent.
Thank goodness therefore that, whilst the likes of Ellie Goulding and Marina and the Diamonds will continue to ignite our carnal desires, 2010 promises to restore the sexual balance. In fact, we don’t even need to fear a monkey-rock backlash now that the Gallagher brothers have disbanded. I predict that the forthcoming year will be one of blurred sexual distinctions, of shameless he/she-ism, of androgyny.
Shrewd observers will have noted that the fashion world is already wise to the imminent perversion of traditional gender classifications. As I scanned the catwalks for this year’s trends, I was left thinking, “Is it a girl? Is it a boy? Oh dear, I’m not really sure what ‘it’ is but I like what I’m seeing!”
If you don’t believe me I recommend that you investigate ‘Hurts’. The name alone is so self-consciously pathetic that it is almost endearing. These Mark Almond look-alikes appear to have blended a Euro-Trash aesthetic with an effeminate sensibility. I say ‘appear’ because the Mancunian duo have been so secretive that garnering clues into their history makes the puzzle of a woman’s mind seem like child’s play. They may not exactly be David Bowie but 'Hurts' will certainly provide a suitable counterpoise to their female peers without resorting to the sort of cock-rock commonly associated with the Towers of London and other antediluvian sex-pests.