I’m sure like me you wanted to start your new year off in a big way, shaking off the old and bringing in the new. In my case I thought I might continue expanding my horizons and keep listening to more electronic stuff.
And I did, to be fair. With precisely two albums. But to make up for it, there’s a batch of albums that have come out this month that I’ve been waiting a while for so I’ll talk about them in a few moments.
First up:
Oxygène, Jean Michel Jarre
During the 70s, before electronic music really took off, it was kind of dismissed as Doctor Who music. Yet ironically, I feel like this album may have inspired the soundtrack of Doctor Who going into the 80s when Dudley Simpson was given the boot and the folks at the BBC Radiophonic Workshop were brought in.
“Pt.1” instantly made me think of a not-too-unconvincing-if-you-squint model of the TARDIS flying through space all the while being serenaded by Paddy Kingsland. “Pt.2”’s bassline takes you into the time vortex before you land on a planet of hustle and bustle and bloops and bleeps. For an album released in 1976, it seems intent on declaring that the 80s are here early. The future is here.
Thing with ambient stuff though is that it does struggle to hold my attention, and I think this is a side effect of a) living in a world where we can’t focus on one thing for long, and b) ADHD. I know what I am listening to is good, but I do have to take a break when I think I can without disrupting the flow of the album, otherwise I’ll end up bored and not appreciating what’s left to come.
It feels like one great big adventure through space. Maybe I should listen to this next time I’m in Amsterdam, that’d probably be a hell of an experience.
Beyond the Pale, JARV IS
It’s easy to forget that before Pulp’s rise from the ashes a few years ago, all we had of Jarvis was him trying another solo project. Before the world shut down for a while in 2020, he’d put together a brand new band, written some new songs and took them onto the stage here and there. The end result was what critics called his best album in years…technically though it was his first album in years as well, but I wanted to give it another peek and see if time had been kind to it, what with there being a new Pulp album out. Does Beyond the Pale still hold up as its own thing?
Besides being a quirkier album than usual from Mr Cocker with its swirly bloops and bleeps and overarching sense of foreboding, Beyond the Pale also boasts a gimmick; half of it is recorded in a studio as per, whilst the rest is taken from live performances to try and capture the excitement of a gig (which in hindsight was a very well timed choice). If you give it some thought, you can work out which category each track fits into. I wouldn’t say its seamless but I wouldn’t say it’s worth dwelling on either.
I fear my opinion may be influenced by ye olde tinted spectacles of the rosy variety. See, JARV IS were the first band that I went to see live at a gig, back in late 2021. That’s why I have an unabashed love for “Must I Evolve?” and “Am I Missing Something?”, having heard them live as designed and being mesmerised as a result. “House Music All Night Long” also ended up being the right single at the right time as it was released just days before we went into lockdown, and the most ambitious of raves could only involve pedal bins and the buzzing of fridges. ‘One nation under a roof’ and ‘Goddamn this claustrophobia’ indeed. Again, fond memories, some of the scant few made during that year.
Last month, I alluded to Oasis being in limbo and a chance that albums like Noel Gallagher’s Council Skies will become the norm again. If Pulp finally decide to ride off into a sunset, could and should JARV IS release a sophomore effort? They could, but they probably shouldn’t because if they did, it would be nowhere near as appreciated. That is unless we all end up trapped indoors again (God forbid), and enough time passes that More becomes a distant memory. 2035 then?
Yeah Yeah Yeah, Cast
After talking about Beetroot on this blog, anything would be an improvement when it comes to Cast. But on that note, I wonder if Yeah Yeah Yeah could be an improvement on their previous album, Love is the Call? Because I loved that record when it came out and enjoyed singing along to its songs when Cast played the Boiler Shop in Newcastle a couple of years ago.
But while their last outing was a more mellow affair, there’s something a touch heavier in this batch of songs. The pscyh undertones are still present but the overall sound paints proceedings as more of a rock and roll affair. It’s as if they’re shirking invisible chains as they are encouraged by just how good their fortunes have been these past few years – Playing shows on every conceivable stage throughout the UK, seeing their debut turn thirty and be remembered as the stomper it was, and supporting Oasis during the Live 25 tour. Let’s be frank, they’ve earned the right to swagger about as they do on Yeah Yeah Yeah.
The early highlight of the album is “Don’t Look Away”. If any track encapsulates triumph and the positivity flowing through Cast’s veins, it’s that. If released as a single, it would and should be Cast’s signature anthem, next to “Fine Time” and “Alright”. Gospel infusions can be found throughout, most notably on the one-two punch of “Calling Out Your Name” and “Free Love”. P.P Arnold makes some welcome guest appearances throughout to elevate songs like “Poison Vine”. “Birds Heading South” sounds like a distillation of “Walkaway”, the La’s “Looking Glass”, and previous album finale “Tomorrow Call My Name” to make a stereotypical Cast song. Like all that came before it though, you won’t be able to stop yourself smiling. The strings certainly help too.
This is a victory lap for Cast. It’s an album that was made in the complementary environment of the Spanish sunshine, and each track radiates light as a result.
Wormslayer, Kula Shaker
The psychedelic heavyweights of the Britpop era, the Krishna-crawlies who lived rent free in the heads of Melody Maker’s journos.
Like Cast, Kula Shaker is one of those old reliables of the mid-90s crop of guitar-led bands. Their appeal comes from their spiritualism and eastern flavours that guarantee a hazy feel-good time. Wormslayer is no exception, in fact it sounds Crispin and co. are trying their hardest to make this one of their best. And cor blimey, do they succeed. Lots of passion and energy, rarely seeming to pause for breath in the opening stages before talking a more contemplative and breezy style from “Little Darling” onwards (Incidentally also where the Beatles influences become increasingly noticeable, but not to the point of distracting). There are loads of layers to peel away and appreciate throughout. The kitchen sink has well and truly been chucked at this one and you can’t help but smile as you run through each track of what has been dubbed a psych-opera.
I wish I had more to say about some of the individual songs but frankly it all blends into solid mesh of ‘f*ck yes’. The hooks of the earlier cuts like “Charge of the Light Brigade” and “Broke as Folk”, the pounding of “Wormslayer”, the quick but comforting stopgap that is “Day For Night”. It’ll scratch any itch you may have. A must-listen if you’re a psychedelic rock fan.
Wasted On Youth, The Molotovs
My most anticipated album of 2026.
Now more than ever it is hard to break into the music business and get your tunes out there but somehow the Molotovs have played a blinder every step of the way. They’ve been playing gig after gig as the decade has dragged on, and neither of them are even twenty yet. Each single has been fuelled by label promotion and word-of-mouth on social media, to reach the ears of the restless seeking a voice in an increasingly hard-of-hearing world. With their star rising, culminating in supporting the Sex Pistols and the Libertines, and making appearances across Channel 4 on the news and Sunday Brunch (Seeing Matt and Issey mingling with Harry Hill was not something I had on my 2026 bingo card), Wasted On Youth has a lot to live up to.
But even if it were to fail to reach those lofty heights, those singles have all proved that the band has staying power. “More More More” captures the new-wave punk ferocity that define their sound and sets us up for its themes of individuality and being true to yourself (‘Give up the fight/Because I won’t be your tool’). “Rhythm of Yourself” continues those themes with a Mod-style two fingers up at conformity and is by far and away favourite song of theirs for it. “Today’s Gonna Be Our Day” is their call to arms; you’ve only got one shot to make a statement before your youth leaves without you. Make it, stick with it. Message received.
The rest? Mostly great, occasionally good with caveats. “Get A Life” is a visceral opener that is unapologetic with how rough and tumble it is. “Daydreaming” is very much a nod to Oasis and Britpop at large (I’ve seen someone compare it to “The Girl in the Dirty Shirt” and…yeah once you realise it you can’t ignore it). “Newsflash” is practically a twin to “More More More”, they’re that similar. “Nothing Keeps Her Away” is an acoustic number whose story about an obsessed fan shows Matt’s got a sense of humour and isn’t afraid to talk country matters. It’s the standout for the album if you disregard the singles. “Popstar” is a cheeky dig at…well, I’ll give you a guess. Overall, Wasted On Youth is an inspired debut that wastes no time in its half-hour runtime, but you can’t help but hope that the best is yet to come from the Molotovs.
Let this be the start of something phenomenal. Let today be the first of many days. Because good Christ almighty, do we need some individuality in music right now.
Britpop, Robbie Williams
F*cking Robbie again.
If the truth be told, my plan was to actually talk about him and his new album next month, as that’s when it was due out after being delayed by Taylor Swift pulling another surprise release. But then Robbie went and took a page out of her book by deciding to get Britpop out there anyway a few weeks early. Tremendous.
Now I in no way expected a Britpop revival, especially not by a guy who launched his solo career by trending hopping upon it during its latter days. But having been pleasantly surprised by Life Thru A Lens last year, I did think I’d have an alright time with Britpop as long as I bore in mind I wasn’t going to hear a tribute to the genre and movement, rather the 90s music scene.
Lead single and opener “Rocket” does just that, sounding like a coke-driven rush and a rose-tinted memory of the hedonism of the glory days. It sets the trend which follows in “Spies” about reminiscing about the fame and fortune being a 90s superstar brought. Its heavier than your average Britpop record but there’s nothing wrong with that, especially in a modern context where it’s a rarity that a high-profile singer like Robbie Williams lets their music be guided by guitars rather than the same old three electronic beats. Give me my traditional same three chords on your latest Oasis pastiche which you call “All My Life” please! Oh wait, you want to go down the hip hop route on “Bite Your Tongue”? Fine, good thing I’m trying to keep an open mind.
Sometimes though, the saluting of the 90s can be a bit too on the nose. Referencing “Smells Like Teen Spirit”’s chorus in “Pretty Face” was a bit of an eyeroll moment. And I can’t help but notice that some of the time, Robbie is channelling David Bowie in his singing, particularly on “All My Life”. But that didn’t stop me enjoying it, as I suspected it would. Again, like the last time I covered a Britpop-derivative LP by Robbie Williams, the majority of the tracks don’t fuse that well together. But that didn’t stop the experience being a fun one.
Oh, and speaking of David Bowie…
★, David Bowie
Opinion splits as to when the world truly went to shit, when the timeline was sent sideways into one where if it could go wrong it would go wrong. Half the Internet believe that the goodwill of time died with Harambe, the other half insist that it was the death of David Bowie. To think we’re ten years removed from one of the most moving and striking closing statements ever made by an artist. An epitaph put to tape. For 48 hours, it was the latest classic from David Bowie. Then on January 10th, it became his final classic.
Contextual hindsight became a frank understatement from the word go with the 10-minute opener and you deal with a range of emotions as you fast feel like you’re about to hear the last words of a dying man. Pained and cultic ooh’ing, erratic time signatures, splotchy synths, and one-last-dance vibes in the saxophones which means that yes, Bowie is doing jazz fusion and I am all bloody well here for that.
Following all that, ★ is a bloody phenomenal, if not a difficult listen, context aside. A casual listener might be a little put off by the more caustic side that Bowie demonstrates in his lyrics this time around; the lamentation of a stolen cock in “Tis A Pity She Was A Whore”, ass-hunting in “Lazarus”, and the channelling of Kendrick Lamar in “Girl In Love”. But combined with the jamming from the musicians that went into this album, heavy guitars and sax and all, it allows ★ to exude a no-f*cks, never-say-die attitude. Very appropriate. You don’t want it to end. But of course, it does. “Dollar Days” sets you up for the finale. “I Can’t Give Everything Away” is it. And it hurts.
But it, along with the title track, leads you to think one thing: What’s he on about?
The mantras of “Blackstar” (and I’ll chuck its video in aswell), the ambiguity behind “I Can’t Give Everything Away”, both raise more questions than they do answers. But as tempting as it is to overanalyse a dying man’s last recorded words, the thought occurs: Why bother? Sometimes the best questions are the ones left unanswered. Did Tony Soprano get shot? Did Avon escape the Federation? Who composed Beethoven’s 5th? Being the fickle species we are, we’d just be disappointed and complain loudly. Maybe some of us would drink the copium a la Stranger Things fans and insist that he recorded another album before he went.
The mystery compliments the abstract weirdness of the album, and the concept of death itself. It is the final unknown, after all.
A-Side Glance 