For once we decided not to leave ourselves open for getting something wrong and remembered that you can’t physically get hold of this new tune from the UK’s worst drug-taking band, Keane.

Unless you’re one of those posh industry types, this song is unavailable to buy on CD, vinyl or even from one of those fancy digital downloading services. Though we assume it’s on file sharing sites alongside the mis-titled new Elvis and Frank Sinatra album.

Usually we don’t bother telling you how awesome or shoddy a single is, but seeing as it’s free release that didn’t get that much publicity compared to other free downloads, offered by the likes of Radiohead and Sigur Ros, we thought we’d make you aware. Spiralling is taken from Keane’s yet to be released (but probably available illegally on the internet) third album Perfect Symmetry.

Gone are the earlier vocals of fatter-looking lead man Tom Chaplin, who previously sounded like a choir boy whose angelic vocals had crashed head on with him breaking into puberty. 2008 sees a different and experimental sounding vocal style – maybe it was the cocaine, we don’t know, but he seems to be taking on a bit more of an aggressive edge to his singing style. Gone is the quite timid whimper that was sometimes a bit awkward to listen to, but still delighted thousands of Radio 2 listeners.

When trying to work out the reason for this change, it may not be down to him snorting cocaine off the arsecrack of a model. Tom may have been given peppermint tea before the vocal take instead of mint tea. It would piss us off, that’s for sure.

Following strange lyrics from Feeder and their single We Are The People, Keane have managed to arrange the lyrics into questions for fans to answer. Hooray for interactive fun! Instead of the song breaking down and building back up again as per usual we are instead hit with a barrage of questions. Don’t worry, they won’t fry your brain – Chaplin asks if we want to:

“Be a winner, Be an icon, Be Famous, Be the President, Start a war, Have a family, Be in love.”

Because we’re nice, we’ll give you the answers:

“We already are – ask Alan Mcgee, only if it involves free things off PR people, only if we didn’t have to campaign for a year, no – because we struggle to even start a computer up sometimes, we are one happy family and yes – but not with the people from Keane.”

The lyrics are a bit too kooky for a band as commercial as Keane, and they would work better coming from some pissed off communist rapper who is integrating you through his lyrics and why you are a sucker to globalisation.

Not from a posh podgy boy and his mates whose idea of fun on a Friday night is ringing doorbells and running away whilst laughing like people who’ve just seen a pair of tits for the first time.

So what about the music? Well the two bods who no-one seem to know about are still performing. Richard Hughes still bangs the drums and Tim Rice-Oxley is still on the keyboard.

After two albums of just using the boring piano and not even altering the pitch Rice-Oxley has discovered the effects button and decided to jazz things up a bit. Sadly this new direction of incorporating diluted electronic sounds and vocal tweaks doesn’t work.

At best the song sounds like a shoddy remix using the successful song formula that Keane constantly used with songs such Somewhere Only We Know and Everybody’s Changing. With so much free music software for bedroom producers to use, it really just sounds like someone has attempted to remix the older tracks and failed badly.

Oh, and let’s not forget that the daring leap of going hip and copying the dying trend of indie bands with synthesizers simply falls flat on its arse. As this is a free release, we can only hope that the real version suddenly appears and those crazy Keane boys have pulled an early April fool on us, or it’s never going to be anything more that poor.

Still, it’s only a free download. If you don’t like it, e-mail the song around as one of those crap joke chain messages. Title it as “best thing you’ll ever hear” before deleting the song off of your computer and freeing up the space it took up for porn or a better sounding track.

There are a lot available. Trust us.

It wasn’t because she finally realised she was slowly destroying her insides, it was simply down to having a crazy reaction to the medication slowly digesting in her stomach.

Many people have placed bets on her dying before the end of the year due to her body slowly fading away and her apparent ability to always be pictured with a ciggie and a can of Superbrew.

Yesterday saw a couple of people prematurely attempting to cash in that betting slip, but they were wrong to do so – those good people at the NHS managed to fix her up with some sticky tape and drinks straws.

It’s now surfaced that she’s returned to hospital and her ever-suffering father Mitch has told us what caused her freakout. It was indeed an issue with drugs, but not the good kind. Oh no!

Mitch claims that Amy’s drink had been spiked with ecstasy, causing the young crooner to react violently. It has to be said, hecklerspray loves hearing that excuse from pretty much every person who is sick after a weekends drinking (why do you think Stu is off?). Of course the seventeen pints of lager and no food didn’t make you sick. It was a little white tablet that made you look the village idiot. Again.

But did an ecstasy tablet really cause Amy Winehouse to go in to relapse and bring her a bit closer to death? We all have to remember that she eats drugs like Smarties and drinks heroin like Ribena, so surely this wouldn’t have bothered her? If anything, her body was rejecting the drug because it wasn’t up to the usual standard of getting her wasted and reducing her to walking around in her pants.

Normally when Winehouse does get off her tits on pills, crack, heroin or anything else she can wrap her lips around, she starts screeching for dear hubby Blake. It will probably turn out that this time her harpyish screams have been curbed by Blake appearing in her dreams, telling her to battle on. Or something like that. She’s sure to make up some crap, so long as it isn’t straightforward or normal.

A source told the pack of journalists permanently outside Amy Winehouse’s (wine)house:

“Mitch is furious. He’s certain someone put E in Amy’s drink – and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. He is convinced that one of her hangers-on was responsible and he’s waiting for a toxicology report to show what caused her to have a fit.”

This is just another story in the long line of drug related problems for Winehouse. For her it’s just becoming more like real life, and if anything we want to see another celebrity from the world of music flip out like a crazy fool on drugs. Remember the moon face man from Keane? He tripped off his man tits on the old white powder, apparently, but still managed to remain totally dull.

We hope Dougie from McFly is a secret glue sniffer, or at least a fan of poppers. He’s in a band, so they must have done something extreme apart from give their album away in the Sunday Mail. Or is that classed as hard for them?

OK, OK, yeahyeahyeah, it’s only going to happen in a movie, but sometimes life imitates art, right? Right? Right. We can but hope. Our fingers remain firmly crossed.

Borrell is to star in the new film by Antonia Bird and Irvine Welsh, named The Meat Trade, and will be killed by two grave robbers, played by Robert Carlyle and Colin Firth. Jonathan Edward told the Daily Star:

"It's going to be so much fun. I love horror and I'm a really big fan of Irvine Welsh's work. I loved Trainspotting."

Oh, it’s horror! There should be lots of blood then. Let’s hope Antonia and Irvine get twat number one, Bono, involved. And Keane. And The Feeling. Oh, please The Feeling. And why not stab Luke Pritchard of The Kooks in the mouth with a rusty screwdriver while you’re at it? Why not?

The film is about two body snatchers snatching bodies in Edinburgh and should be released sometime next year. Hecklerspray waits with baited breath. But how will Borrell die, Irvine?

Hecklerspray likes to think Carlyle and Firth will recruit sometime actor Bob Dylan to do this excellent deed. On the release of his band’s debut, Up All Night, Borrell spouted some awful shit out of his mouth-arsehole which decided it was better than Dylan’s first album proper. Get your own back, Bob. But do it for real like Brandon Lee. Come on. Be a sport.

Or, if Bob can’t be reached for some reason, why not contact Morrissey? Borrell did “feel sorry” for Moz when he somehow didn’t manage to draw as big a crowd at V Festival a few years back. People really are stupid.

You are now officially 87% stupider if you voluntarily listen to Johnny Borrell’s arsehole gibberings with feelings of enjoyment. Really. They’ve done tests and everything. We don’t know who “they” are but we’re sure these tests have been done. Kind of.

Too harsh? Not harsh enough we say.

Release Mark Chapman already.

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Johnny Borrell To Be Murdered In New Movie – AngryApe