Bit early isn’t it? You see, there’s been a change of plans. Normally, I’d have this up and ready by the end of the month, or slightly into December depending on how busy/lazy how I am. But this week I’ve delved deeply into a certain something and I don’t want to make another super long massive entry like last time. 5000 words was a bit much. I’ll explain what I’m on about at the end but for now, I want to talk about some records I gave a listen to simply because I turned round and said ‘Yeah, I’ll give that a look, why not?’.
Starting with a certain brother-sister combo who’ll finally have their debut album out in January:
The Molotovs, “Rhythm of Yourself”
Single one gets the audience’s attention, states that you have arrived.
Single two tells them that you’re here to stay.
Single three tells them that it’ll be for a long, long time.
That’s the Molotovs’ story so far. And while I don’t think it’s ever really been in doubt as to whether they still have some tricks up their Ben Sherman sleeves or not, “Rhythm of Yourself” shows the band bettering themselves with each release. Appropriately singing about how they won’t bow down to the man or conform to the norm and will be true to themselves, they release their best anthem yet that makes me evermore impatient for that debut album. It doesn’t get more Mod than this song.
Bonus points for the music video. Direction, cinematography, performances, all sublime. I am desperate to see the Molotovs live (moreso they aren’t playing the North East on their headline tour, the bastards), but I’m certain next year once Wasted on Youth is out I’ll be seeing them on the stage. And you should too.
Rialto, Night on Earth
So I turned 27 on October 27th, and I feel like I’ve reached the stage where a birthday is just another day for me. That being said, there’s always room for a surprise and I was absolutely amazed when I found this album among the CDs I’d been gifted by my parents this year.
Night on Earth is Rialto’s awkward middle child, sat between the self-titled debut that heralded one of Britpop’s last hurrahs, and the brand new Neon & Ghost Signs which saw Rialto rise like a phoenix from the ashes. I think that its status can be chalked up to the fact it’s been practically buried since release in the early 2000s, to the point where it isn’t on streaming services. I found out why when I had the pleasure of seeing Rialto live in October along with Sleeper at a double header show in Newcastle. Louis and Julian (singer and bassist respectively) were happy to meet fans and sell merch on the stall before Louise’s lot took to the stage. After buying the new album from them I took the opportunity to ask if Night on Earth would ever see a re-release or become available on streaming, and the answer I got was ‘Next year hopefully’. I won’t go into the details but suffice to say Rialto have infamously had little luck with their labels, which is why NightoOn Earth only now exists in my collection as a second-hand export from Germany.
But is it worth waiting for this album’s return, given that it went virtually unnoticed on release, and those who did acknowledge it did so with a ‘Eh, it’s alright’ kind of apathy that hastened the band’s demise? Well, yeah. It’s not perfect by any means, and it pales in comparison to its predecessor as things seem a trifle forced, as if they’re a selection of b-sides that were dusted off and brought into the 2000s kicking and screaming. How you may ask? Electronica and drum and bass of course! Biggest offender is “London Crawling”, that song’s sound screams early 2000s, moreso because it’s a re-recording of the final single released by Rialto’s predecessor Kinky Machine. Compare the two and you realise it’s a case of if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. While not every track is smothered by this new approach, some do suffer. For example, “Idiot Twin” sounds like it’s caught in a time warp with warbly synths that do not compliment the signature reverberated drums that Rialto love. Pick one or the other, don’t use both or your track comes across as a cast-off from Enjoy the Silence.
But that’s not to say that Rialto have lost it, oh no. The cinematic bombast, the film noir tones, the sinisterness and malaise, they are all still present throughout. “Anything Could Happen” is a tune that I had on repeat this month. If any song can hang with Rialto’s first album’s worth, it’d be that one. While there’s a smidgeon of an identity crisis at play on Night on Earth as they needlessly try to adapt their sound to the times, they still turn in a fairly decent effort. Other highlights include the beautiful and longing “Catherine’s Wheel”, and “Shatterproof” is much better on the ears and inspiring than any influencer that plagues the Internet. If you find the album out there in the wild, first of all, you lucky devil. Secondly, buy it and play it. It won’t set your world on fire, it might be a bit much at times, but it’s still a Rialto record. You can’t go wrong.
Now talking about a middle child, or maybe ugly duckling would be a better term, of a band’s discography has given me an idea. There’s a pair of albums by established artists that are not that well regarded and/or contributed to a temporary demise that I want to give a swatch. I think it’s that old trope of bile fascination again. What could possibly go wrong?
Cast, Beetroot
Not to detract from them, but Cast are a fairly predictable band when it comes to their sound. When you bought one of their records, you knew what you were in for and that was a solid dozen or so tracks of power pop and rootsiness. It’s what arguably made them one of the most easy-to-listen to bands of the Britpop era.
By the time their fourth album approached though, Cast’s recipes needed fresh ingredients. As I talked about in, let’s be honest, excessive detail last month, times were changing as the new millennium kicked in and the Britpop sound was being written off. The logical move would probably have been to add some electronic flourishes into the mix a la Rialto but Cast, a band built on beats and roots, were never going to do that in a month of Sundays.
Right?
Right?!
Before Cast show us how desperately they’re trying to appear on the pulse, they treat us to a cacophony of squishy bass, breezy flutes, and trumpets playing discount Thunderbirds tunes in opener and lead single “Desert Drought”. Samples, repeats and reversals of sounds and lyrics reveal themselves as the album progresses, but they quickly overstay their welcome. “Kingdom and Crowns” was meant to be a single aswell and…yeah, probably for the best it wasn’t because it’s a slog. “Giving It All Away” could have snuck through however, as John Power pulls off a very nice falsetto, and so could “I Can Never Say” which is a refreshingly stripped back affair. But that’s as much goodwill as I’m able to give because what in the good graces of f*ck were the band thinking when they put together “Lose Myself”, “Meditations” (which I swore started with John uncharacteristically declaring ‘You’ve a sweet ass, honey’) and “Jetstream”? Weak songwriting and amateurish musicianship aplenty as they find themselves juggling too much to put together a comprehensive tune.
The punny name of Beetroot is a complete misnomer. It should be indicative of an album powered by Merseybeat. Maybe it’s in there somewhere but you can’t tell because Cast unfortunately chose to throw whatever shit they could find at the wall and see what stuck, creating a brash electro-funk nightmare. And then no one cared about it, the album flopped and the band disappeared into the sunset with their tails between their legs. Never mind, at least they got back together by the 2010s because let me tell you seeing them live is a truly fantastic experience. Especially when some of the setlist was comprised of songs from Love is the Call, that is a quality LP and hangs nicely with Cast classics like All Change. Nothing from Beetroot though, you’ll no doubt be surprised to know.
David Bowie, Hours
With a discography as vast and chameleonic as Bowie’s, you’re going to get differing opinions as to what his worst album was. Tonight? Never Let Me Down? Pin Ups? Reality? Hours?
I tend to find it’s that last one that is most scrutinised. Not a lot of the fandom regard it very fondly. Every few years he would re-invent himself and try new genres, something which he had done loudly and proudly throughout the 90s. In contrast, Bowie finished the decade with a rather quiet and some might say dull offering, made duller still compared to the more in-your-face outings of Outside and Earthling.
On the one hand, it feels like after being a man out of sync with the times, having hopped on trends like jungle and drum and bass well past their sell-by date, Bowie has finally adjusted to his status in the 90s as an elder statesman of music. That in turn lends itself to the introspective themes that run throughout, including a passing glance at mortality that will be magnified by ★.
But on the other hand, my lord is this album badly paced. “Thursday’s Child” doesn’t exactly show Hours hitting the ground running, more creeping along with the aid of a zimmer. The sound takes the form of turn-of-the-century American, R&B-indicative pop but it feels so restrictive, like no one is allowed to have fun. There’s some semblance of art rock in Hours, particularly in “Something in the Air” as Bowie’s vocals are given some Radiohead-styled distortion and Reeves Gabrels is allowed to provide a few decent riffs, but for the most part things sound flat. Things do get a bit heavier the further in we go, especially “The Pretty Things Are Going To Hell”, but that song just strikes me as louder for the sake of it. Although it did help confirm something in my mind.
Between his admittedly quite excellent vocals throughout, and the fleeting appearances of acoustic guitar, it feels like Bowie is trying to make a new Hunky Dory. “Seven” in particular sounds like an unearthed track from the early 70s. And I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to like “What’s Really Happening?” as much as I did – Given it started with guitarwork reminiscent of Suede’s, I was ready to write it off but the paranoiac atmosphere grants it staying power, which is more than can be said for most tracks on this record.
Hours didn’t send me to sleep as I feared it might. Indeed, it pleasantly surprised me on a couple of occasions but given that this is David Bowie we’re talking about, those tracks shouldn’t surprise me by being diamonds in the rough. They should surprise me for being highlights of a terrific album, which Hours ultimately is not. I didn’t want to dislike it though, there’s something about it that makes me want to enjoy it but it’s so frustratingly off the mark. Better was to come in the follow up, Heathen, which is a low-key favourite album of mine from Bowie.
The Stone Roses – The Stone Roses
RIP Mani.
There’s not a lot of positivity you can extract from the Internet these days but watching people from all walks of life come together and pay tribute to Madchester’s finest bassist did bring a smile to the face. Not a bad word to be said about him, and rightly so.
Like a lot of other people, I was compelled to listen to the Roses’ debut when the news broke on that Thursday afternoon. Believe it or not, it took me quite a few listens back in the day to fully gel with it. I dunno, I think that it was that old chestnut of ‘the bar was raised too high by people praising it up and down meaning it was inevitably going to disappoint’. But regardless of my feelings then and now, I can absolutely see it at as a cornerstone in British rock music, helping to lay the groundwork for Madchester and popularising it in November 1989 along with the Happy Mondays.
There are pieces of this album that will get stuck in your head and will refuse to leave. The creeping, deliciously unsettling start of “I Wanna Be Adored”, the guitarwork on “Waterfall”, everything about “I Am the Resurrection”. And of course, the opening bassline of “Fools Gold”. Hypnotic, pure psych funk. We’ll miss you, Mani.
Geordie Greep, The New Sound
Every year, the other side of the tracks worth of music fans put their eyes towards one album alone. This year it appears to be Getting Killed by Geese, but I’m saving that for next month for reasons I’ll talk about at the end of this entry. Last year, it was Geordie Greep’s solo debut The New Sound.
Now I’ve never listened to Black Midi so I didn’t know what to expect going into this LP. Actually no that’s a lie, I did stop to listen to lead single “Holy, Holy” and that fast became one of my most listened to songs in 2024. I thought it was some of the best songwriting I’d heard in a good long while, funny and ballsy (I’m pleasantly amazed that we can get away with playing a song that name drops jihadis on the radio) and showcasing just who Geordie is: a talented songwriter erring on the side of deadpan, and a musician making tracks through some left-field inspiration.
But now I want to stop and truly consider The New Sound in its entirety, especially seeing as I’ve had a thing for jazzy stuff this year. To the naked ear, this might sound like a weird bastardisation of jazz-rock. Let me tell you, some of this stuff is far from commercial. Again, jihadis. From what little I’ve gathered that was a Black Midi staple so it’s little surprise that Geordie is continuing down this path. But some of this sound of a new variety is very rough-and-tumble; the opening of “Holy, Holy”, the perverted and neurotic jazz in the chorus of “Walk Up”, most of “Motorbike” and all of “Blues”. Then again, there are some pleasant moments like the Casiopea-esque title track and “Bongo Season”.
Regardless of the album’s sound though, its biggest strength is undoubtedly its lyrics. In a roundabout way, it’s a kind of Great Escape-era Blur affair, studying characters who all have one thing in common – They’re f*cking pathetic. And I know I’m talking about this song an awful lot, but again “Holy, Holy” is a prime example of this – The first half of the song indicates the narrator is a misogynist with a borderline comically inflated personality supported by delusions of grandeur. The second half, where it turns out it’s all an act as he meticulously lays out a grand plan to look like a modern-day Casanova as he checks no lines are being crossed and how much pretending to shag will cost. It’s a grand example of a character showing they’re a pitiful wretch instead of outright saying ‘I’m a pitiful wretch’. A great two-act tale about the kind of man that does unfortunately exist.
I could go further but let’s also quickly highlight the following:
- The cringiess of comparing a minor breakup to a major humanitarian crisis in “Terra”.
- The asking of everyday questions on “Through a War” such as ‘Have you seen a woman give birth to a goat?’ (I mean, spend enough time on the Internet…).
- The maniacal mid-life crisis in “Motorbike” which culminates with the closing statement that every badass wants to cap off the movie in their heads with: ‘This town is f*ck’.
Geordie looks set to be back in the New Year. Looking forward to see what he’s got up his sleeve.
And now the point where we talk about what I found on TikTok, or rather what little I found. I had to uninstall the app for a while this month, the algorithm was dead-set on recommending some of the pissiest of piss-poor music possible. Not only that, I’m sure Sienna Spiro is a talented singer but every time I hear that ‘iiiii knowwww…’ it triggers a mental gag reflex. You force feed me stuff, I’m going to chuck it back up.
All that being said, some interesting stuff did just about manage to sneak through…
Brooke Combe, “How Can I Tell You? (To Love Me More)”
If there is one genre I wasn’t expecting to be revived by a modern day artist, it was Northern Soul. And then along comes Brooke Combe with this wonderful little number which scratches all the right itches. It’s groovy, it’s classy, and every word sung by Brooke feels like they’re as percussive and impactful as the drums. The production is silky smooth, not surprising considering it’s done by James Skelly of the Coral (A band I absolutely need to talk about on the blog one day). And the lyrics? On the surface it might just seem like it’s going to be another run-of-the-mill tune about loving a partner. But no, it’s actually about a strained father-daughter relationship. That’s refreshing, and adds an extra layer of emotion to Brooke’s performance.
She’s got an album out at the mo called Dancing At The Edge Of The World and it is most assuredly going on my to-listen list. If it’s anything like this single, it’ll doubtlessly be a good time.
Bebe Barry
We’d all like to stake our claims that we brought something new and exciting into the world, somehow creating something original hundreds of years since doing such a thing became an impossibility. Bebe’s contribution is a genre called ‘sunshine punk’, one that attaches itself to Britpop. That’s how I found it.
“DON’T HAVE THE DOPAMINE” is the track that led me to her and it is the Britpoppiest Bebe has to offer – A jaunty and biting look at ADHD and the incessantness that comes with it. That’s from 2022 though, if you look at the newer singles, things are more indie pop. They can come slow and fast in the form of “Perpetual Maybe” and “Jeff Goldblum”. But we come full circle with that last one because I can’t think of many artists who’ll go out of their way to make a sequel about the last song’s spouse. Alas, “Emilie Goldblum”.
It’s a fun time, and Bebe does bring the sunshine as promised. I just hope whatever comes next is a bit more aggressive and uptempo, like last year’s “ALL SYSTEMS NO” which is probably my favourite track of Bebe’s that I’ve heard. Great performance, dryly witty lyrics, hooky sound and a mid-2000s pop punk vibe that justifies the comparisons to Avril Lavigne. We’ll see what 2026 holds for Bebe Barry.
OK, that be that. Now let’s explain how things will be going forward.
Next month will not have a monthly entry, not quite at least. You see, Mojo Magazine have released a list of what they considered the 75 best albums of the year. Initially I thought ‘Ok, great, I’ll have a look through, cherry pick a couple of them for listening and pop them into the November monthly’. And then I ended up cherry picking half the list because there is a lot of stuff on there that I like the look of; lots of chamber pop, prog and psych, even some post rock. If I somehow managed to get through it all within a week and crammed it into here, I’d probably end up with a grade 2:2-worthy thesis.
So here’s what’s going to happen instead. For the Christmas season here on A-Side Glance, I’m going to do a series of weeklies. I’ll listen to a few of the albums from the list each week and type up my thoughts on them. By the end of the month I’ll have them all combined to make a monthly for December.
And that’s not all!
I’ve also got some mini-entries about various bits and bobs lined up, just to keep you eating well if you do genuinely enjoy my limited foresight into music I am hearing (usually) for the first time. Let’s make this Christmas time an exciting one, eh? We’ll drown out the same five Christmas tunes you have the displeasure of hearing and replace them with some proper good shit.
Bring on December!
A-Side Glance 