Lately, you just can’t move for pop music that’ll willingly put its penis in your ear and thrust uncontrollably. From Nelly Furtado to Sugababes via Girls Aloud and Rhianna - they’ve each got a layer of sugar-coated menace, a candid sexiness, and are really quite magnificent.

So, as the Queen of all things pop and horny, where exactly does Beyoncé stand?

Well, quite near the periphery if this single is anything to go by - a fleeting four minutes of charmless pop-funk bounce with lyrics about Jay-Z’s sex appeal just won’t cut it anymore, clearly. Far too detached from any kind of reality and sounding as though it was formulated as an afterthought, it’s just awful. The stench of a pre-fabricated number one single is, frankly, nauseating.

But, whoa, isn’t this a little too analytical of a pop song? Perhaps, but when you can’t even ‘get down’ to it with that stuttered beat, what else is there to do but deconstruct it?

Summary advice: put on ‘Maneater’…