When you start a new year in January you may have all these resolutions set out in front of you – You’re going to do this, you’re going to do that, you’re going to enjoy things and not let the bastards grind you down. Then you reach February and it falls to pieces in your hands. Back to square one.
Happened to me this past month. I didn’t even start writing this entry until February 10th and I’d only listened to one album by then.
And I wasn’t particularly kind about it.
New Order, Technique
I cannot get my head around New Order. Actually no, that’s a lie. I can when they don’t go too dancy. If it goes beyond the style of “Blue Monday” (and even then I’ve never truly bought the hype behind that song. Sue me), then it ain’t for me. I suppose I harbour the same feelings Hooky felt as the 80s dragged on and turned into the 90s, that rock was better than dance. Old fashioned? Yeah. Ill-thought out? Arguably. This was the era when synthesizers were at their peak after all.
I respect New Order. I don’t like them. When your only number one single contains a rap from John Barnes, I don’t exactly feel obliged to like you. Although I will say that I did enjoy their 2001 comeback Get Ready. The perfect blend of the rock side and the dance side. The Jekylls and Hydes of New Order peacefully co-existing for once.
But get too much of the latter and you get what their fans call their best album: Technique.
Maybe I tried to listen to this album at the wrong time, as Britain was trapped in a never-ending loop of rain and grey skies. Technique’s sound is Ibiza on tape, basking in the sunshine and covering every inch of the sweaty dancefloor. And I just cannot get into it for love nor money. The production’s solid enough but I just can’t click with this one. I stopped halfway. Sorry. I’ll try it again later in the year when the weather’s nicer.
After that I forced myself to listen to another album in my collection while I was busy cleaning the kitchen, although I knew I’d have a good time with it. It is Suede after all.
Suede, Dog Man Star
But like with New Order, I find myself listening to what the majority of fans call their best record and I’m just like…ok?
Dog Man Star runs the risk of being one of those albums where its reputation overshadows its quality. If you’re a Suede fan you’ll know just how close the band came to crashing and burning, with Bernard Butler walking out and taking those distinctive guitar riffs with him. But Dog Man Star, already a moodily-written album, is elevated by the dark cloud that everyone is clearly working under, and the adversity brought about by it. Painting pictures of dystopia and hopeless romance, and being sung with a snarl from Brett all the while, it could absolutely be described as Suede’s best.
Doesn’t make it my favourite though.
“The Wild Ones” is top tier, a live set staple for a reason. “We Are The Pigs” is fine for a lead single. “This Hollywood Life” and “The Asphalt World” see Bernard off the leash (having bitten into it and ripped it apart) and going balls to the wall as a result. All make for a great listen. But there’s a lot to unpack in each song, particularly in those that use brass and strings in what sounds like an admittedly beautiful bastardisation of the Britpop sound. It just all gets a bit much at times.
And apologies if this sounds like a hot take, but “New Generation” is a half-baked single and ranks for me as one of Suede’s weakest. If the Orwellian disorder and land-on-fire topics hadn’t already been covered in “…Pigs”, then “New Generation” should have been replaced with “Killing of a Flashboy”. And surely they could’ve found room for “My Dark Star”? Bugger it, I should have just listened to Sci-Fi Lullabies instead.
I can fully understand why folks consider this Suede’s peak. But it’s not one I revisit all that often as it’s just a bit too rich.
So where do I go from here?
Sometimes a step back is worth two going forward. Remember the Dimery Files? Let’s have another gander at the 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die. Same routine as before, I’ll boot up a random number and turn to that particular page. Please, God, not Terence Trent D’Arby or Robbie Williams again…
Frank Zappa, Hot Rats
Oh f*ck yes!
My mum is a die-hard Zappa fan. When I was starting secondary school back in 2010, my music teacher asked us to listen to and write about a couple of songs and the feelings they stir up. Being the philistine I was at the time with zero music taste, I drafted her in for assistance. For a sad song, we came up with “Into My Arms” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. For happiness? “Peaches en Regalia”, which I believe I described as having a ‘summer fruits’ kind of feeling. One of my favourite instrumentals then and now, and I’m more than happy to use it as a launchpad into the rest of Hot Rats.
My word, is this a late 60s album through and through. You can practically feel yourself being transported back in time to those hot summer days in 1969, thanks to the guitarwork on “Willie the Pimp”, and the sax and keyboards that lay the foundations for jazz fusion on…well let’s be honest the whole of Hot Rats but most of all “Peaches en Regalia”. Speaking of sax actually, “The Gumbo Variations”. Phwoar.
This is a record that sounds like it was just so much fun to make and fanny about with, the energy is unrelenting. While the absence of the sardonic lyrics Frank Zappa was legendary for may be a turn off for some, the musicianship on display more than makes up for it.
Bob Dylan, Highway 61 Revisited
Never listened to Bob Dylan before. Guy’s been around for decades and I could not tell you a single song of his. I know, I’m a philistine. Guess now is as good a time as any to right that wrong.
Mind you, there was one thing that made me a little uneasy going into this – I’ve heard it described Bob Dylan’s music as ‘meandering’. With nine tracks stretched over 51 minutes on this album, I had the feeling that would be the case here. You’ve got to remember I’m of the generations whose perceived lack of attention is under intense scrutiny these days. That being said, Bob fully demands your attention in the opening minutes with the delightfully cynical “Like A Rolling Stone”, so all’s well in the early proceedings.
“Tombstone Blues” draws up bloody fingers belonging to Michael Bloomfield as he strums that guitar like there’s no tomorrow. Harmonica solos aplenty, particularly on “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry”, “From a Buick 6” and “Queen Jane Approximately”? Yes, please. The impending doom in the organs complement the fear/disdain of the future/Dylan himself that Mr Jones has in “Ballad of a Thin Man”, which is the album highlight for me.
And “Desolation Row”? Cracker of a final track, and a masterclass in lyricism. Ok, Bob, I’ll listen to more of your work in the future, I promise.
Right, let’s wrap things up with a couple of random odds and sods I tried out over the last week or so.
Andy Bell, Pinball Wanderer
Picked up Mojo Magazine this month, Small Faces being on the cover along with an exclusive rarities CD was enough for me to piss away a hard-earned £8. On page 1, a selection of albums from 2025 which included Pinball Wanderer by Andy Bell.
He’s had a very understated career hasn’t he? Ride, Hurricane #1, Oasis mark 2, makes sense that he’d find the time to put out some solo output aswell. But I hope Pinball Wanderer isn’t an indicator of his other albums because there isn’t that much going on here. It’s more about the mood than the catchiness. Dream lounge music. I listened to it before going to bed one night and I was ready for a snooze afterwards. It’s not necessarily bad, but it does get too synthy for its own good (“apple green ufo” being the major offender, at over eight minutes it doesn’t half drag). Nothing groundbreaking.
Ridge Racer Type 4 Soundtrack
Not a proper album, and a bunch of songs I’ve already talked about on the blog (see here: https://asideglance.com/2020/12/07/entry-13-sampling-soundtracks-i-ridge-racer-type-4-a-k-a-hey-its-a-new-record/). But it’s finally been re-released on streaming services and I just wanted some more acid jazz and funk in my playlist. Go for a drive with “The Ride” on repeat and try not to break the speed limit.
Scott Walker, Scott 3
Recently I took the opportunity to go to a local market and pick up some CDs from a favourite stall of mine. In the end I walked away with three new additions to the collection. One of them was Scott 3.
Compared to its successor, it’s got a grandiose, kitchen-sink flavour – The baroque/chamber pop style is much more pronounced and the album has a very lavish sound to it. However, when I cast my mind back through it there is no track that stands out to me, like “The Seventh Seal” and “The Old Man’s Back Again” on Scott 4. That is, with the exception of the opener “It’s Raining Today”, if it’s gone on to inspire artists like Thom Yorke then it is a certified good ‘un. But that should not be considered a slight against the whole album, au contraire. It glides along with consistently wonderful sounding music and performances.
And my God, Scott could hold a note. See “Rosemary” and “Butterfly”.
Primal Scream, Screamadelica
DRUGS.
A-Side Glance 