Can’t find a date? Having girl trouble? Serious love issues?

Salman Khan [Images] has the solution to all your heartache. At least that’s what David Dhawan’s new film, Partner, presses us to believe.

The romantic comedy also features Dhawan’s longtime favourite Govinda [Images] playing the love guru’s lovelorn disciple.

Meanwhile, Lara Dutta [Images] and Katrina Kaif [Images] play the object of their respective affections.

Sounds a lot like Will Smith’s [Images] hit flick, Hitch, don’t it? The music by Sajid-Wajid, however, isn’t anything like the Men in Black star’s ‘jiggy’ shakes.

The soundtrack kickstarts with the rhythmic Do you wanna partner. A whole bunch of vocal artists –Wajid, Shaan, Shaan, Udit Narayan, Suzi Q and Clington do their bit in this bizarre cocktail of Mambo meets qawaali. Its flamboyant premise aims to highlight Salman and Govinda’s easygoing camaraderie and is more visual than sound.

If the following succeeds in catching your fancy, then you might be game for its pumped up remix of the same as well.

What happens when hip hop marries Hindi film music? A techno-savvy, zippy ditty –You’re in love — is born. The song wears a breezy and perky appearance courtesy the animated beats and vivacious performances from Shaan and Shweta Pandit. You’re my love has a racy remixed version too. We still prefer the original, thank you.

Dupatta tera nau rang da, a fast-paced Punjabi pop mix with its east-meets-west tenacity, is reminiscent of Just Chill (Maine Pyaar Kyun Kiya) in texture and resonance. A harmless dance track, Dupatta may not exactly elevate your senses but doesn’t jar them either.

Brace yourself for another Punjabi punch with an electronic twist and retro appeal in Soni de nakhre. A seriously enjoyable number, crooned effectively by Labh Janjuwa — the man who earlier dished the catchy Tauba mein pyaar karke pachtaya in Pyaar Ke Side Effects).

Sonu Nigam [Images] tries to do a Ricky Martin [Images] with Maria Maria, an incredibly insipid tribute to the Latino sensation’s chartbuster of the same name. Maria’s cackling chorus and screeching arrangement makes for one noisy hearing that is best left skipped.

Entertaining in parts and average in others, the music of Partner is like a run-of-the-mill party: fun while it lasts, forgotten when over.

The Fratellis tell Helen Brown why there’s nothing simple about writing catchy songs.

FIVE Glaswegian men, far from home in a Texan bar, suddenly throw their arms over each other’s shoulders and start bawling: “Da-da-dah/ Da-da-dah/ Da-da-dah-da-da-dah!” – the beloved chorus of the Fratellis’ Chelsea Dagger, played over the PA at Celtic Park whenever Celtic score.

On stage, the Fratellis grin at the fans who have made a pilgrimage from their home town to see them. Fraggle-haired John Lawler at the mic, Barry Wallace pumping bulk-armed notes from his bass and Gordon “Mince” McRory pounding the drums with the cartoon exuberance of Animal from the Muppets. It’s a throwback to the power-punk of the 1970s, but there’s no denying its potency.

But when I meet Lawler a few hours later, I am caught off-guard by how thoughtful, funny and introspective the 28-year-old singer/songwriter turns out to be. Hunching conspiratorially over his drink, he says: “We’re a lot more intelligent than people give us credit for. We’ve had a hard time over those da-da-dah choruses. There’s a lot of anger about the idea that we’ve dumbed things down … that’s a ridiculous accusation. Rock’n'roll was always dumb: three chords and twist and shout. Plus,” he raises an eyebrow, “it translates well – it works in Japanese. It works in America. Pure melody is infectious and uplifting, so why not go with that?”

They have been criticised for not singing in their own accents. Why have they ditched the brogue? Lawler laughs. “The accent just doesn’t really transfer that well to singing rock’n'roll songs. Or not my songs. I’d sound like I was trying too hard to say, ‘Hey, I’m from Glasgow.’ I don’t have any great need to say that because people will cotton on anyway. And we’re not the Proclaimers. Not that the Proclaimers are a bad thing.”

The Fratellis (Italian for “brothers”) had a curious start. “We all worked on a fairground together. It had seven rides and they were all shit. Without telling each other, we all put adverts up in a record shop. When we met up we were surprised to recognise each other from the fairground. It was like: ‘Oh, it’s you!”‘

Everything has gone “surreally well” since then for the band, who got a Brit Award for best British breakthrough act in February and won rave reviews for their sunny set at the recent Isle of Wight Festival. “We just seem to get all the good things,” nods Lawler. “Maybe the secret is that we don’t ask for anything. We never even sent a demo out to anyone in the music industry. We just got a record deal. And then the other day Pete Townshend got up on stage with us in a black suit and shades and started playing one of our songs. He’s a hero and he jumped about, did windmills, and I just howled.”

But Lawler is aware that the public’s attention span is shorter than it was in the days when Townshend was making a splash with the Who. “If we have maybe three to four years to capture people’s attention, then I’d like to write as many songs as possible. Double albums. I see myself more as a songwriter than as a singer in a rock band. So I just want to keep writing and getting better.”