If proof was needed that time has been kind to the James Bond films, then you need look no further than that pre-requisite...the opening song. 

I mean for every machine gun-carrying Aston Martin, there is also Sean Connery's 'transformation' into an Asian man, detailed via the marvel of 1960’s special effects - a bowl haircut and rubbery eyebrows.  

Still, a few close ups of Roger Moore’s eyebrows and a tank ride through Russia later and all is forgiven.  Similarly, for every theme tune like 'Goldfinger' or 'On her majesty’s secret service' there lies the Octopussy theme, 'All time high’ by Rita Coolidge.     

Yet when it comes down to it, mention Bond themes and everyone just thinks in a mazy eyed manner about AHA or Shirley Bassey.  Now you have to admit, that takes some doing! 

Perhaps it’s not so incredible then that Jack White and Alesha Keys' attempts to try and bring the Bond song up to date have led to derision as being the worst ever by some.    Well at least since Madonna or the bloke from Audio Slave had a go, but I personally rather like all the songs.   

I’ll be honest, I’m slavishly bound to loving anything associated with James Bond, even if I wouldn’t normally like it, because unfortunately I’m British.    

Therefore while at times, I may know that the Bond songs and the films they represent are a bit ropey or outright rubbish, they represent us Brits internationally in a way that the cold hard truth of our reputation as beer swilling savages can never do, much like the Royal Family or Coldplay. 

In a sense, like the films, the songs seem to tap into that strange misconception of the British as tough, suave and resourceful, while not looking like an arse in a dinner jacket, without requiring us to do no more than listen to the odd Duran Duran song.

I once failed a job interview dismally, leaving me half-cut and stuck on a two-hour train journey with the now cruelly ironic classic 'Nobody does it better' for company. 

Yet in hindsight, with the help of Carly Simon, I now feel the experience is akin to surviving a brutal, near death encounter with a crazed Belgian double-agent.  Try saying that about Duffy’s latest record.

So while one half of the Gallagher brothers laments the lack of British musical talent involved with an essentially American franchise; I encourage Sheryl Crow, Gladys Knight, and what the hell, three quarters of Garbage, to keep the British end up.  I meant that musically by the way.

Posted In Features, Oct 17 2008. Words - Neil