Entry #55 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: January 2026 (a.k.a Future and future past)

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.

Entry #54 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: December 2025 (a.k.a Lonely winter hearts)

I had zero intention of doing a monthly, my main focus for December has been the 30 Day Song Challenge. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been listening to different stuff as of late, and frankly it’s stuff that I can’t pass up talking about.

Getting Killed, Geese

Remember when I promised to do weekly entries talking about what have been ranked some of the best albums of 2025? Yup, that went out the f*cking window. It was a little overly ambitious from me to say I’d be listening to about thirty odd albums across the month on top of doing the daily challenge, going abroad for a few days, and prepping for Christmas all the while. Still, at least I got to listen to this album before I canned the whole thing.

I was actually going to listen to Getting Killed for the November monthly before I pushed it back to now. Since then it’s ended up on even more end-of-year best of lists and recent reports suggest multiple record labels are bidding for Geese. Best to catch them now before they go full-blown mainstream, aye?

Instantly, I can see why this group have earned Thom Yorke’s seal of approval; there’s a hint of his voice in Cameron Winter’s singing style in opener “Trinidad”, whose unhinged chorus also takes me back to “The National Anthem”, and the In Rainbows-esque “Getting Killed”. That’s not to say that Cameron is straight up ripping him and Radiohead at large off though, as hard as it is to shake those parallels off though. When he slips into a croonier mode we get a compelling and unique approach to songs like the easier-sounding but still nervy “Cobra”, and the thumping “Islands of Men” sounds like a song where you feel you need permission to sway to it. Best end coda on the album too by the way, those drums get faster and faster and just before it feels like it’s about to reach a grandiose climax? Stop. Cut off. End of. Done and dusted. On we go.

Let’s talk about lyrics for a sec because “100 Horses” especially has some cutters. ‘For all people stop smiling/Once they get what they’ve been begging for’. Goddamn, if there was ever a song to sum up modern day America…And then the follow up in “Half Real”: ‘I’ve got half a mind…to just pay for the lobotomy…I’ve got no more thinking to do’. It’s a pun, and it’s depressing, beautiful!

There’s a little bit of everything to be found in Getting Killed, different styles all come into play throughout the album but nothing takes centre stage over Geese’s rock backbone. Funk, RnB, jazz, noise, the list goes on. The artistic and experimental style means I don’t think I’ll come back to this one in a hurry. But when I do it will be because I’m in the mood for a band who know exactly what they want, and are comfortable and precise when it comes to choosing and pursuing their sound.

For now, at least. Choose your next label wisely, lads.

Scott Walker, Scott 4

Until this month, the only thing I really knew about Scott Walker was the fact that he produced Pulp’s 2001 album We Love Life, and Jarvis unwittingly took the piss out of him in “Bad Cover Version”. Always double check your lyrics once your producer signs up.

When I hear the term baroque pop, I imagine grandiose affairs with plenty of bells and whistles dominated by strings. And there is some lovely stringwork to be found here but it is a much more stripped back affair that allows me to focus on Mr Walker himself. And what a beautiful singer that man was. Instantly, I can hear the roots of other people’s voices in his own – Nick Cave, Neil Hannon, Jarvis Cocker, David Bowie, all can credit their styles to Scott in some way.

I’ve already sung the praises of “The Old Man’s Back Again” (see here: https://asideglance.com/2025/12/23/thirty-days-of-music-day-twenty-three/) but Scott 4 is the first time he turns in an LP full of originals, and not one of them is a stinker. “The Seventh Seal” and “Angels of Ashes” spring to mind as the best of the bunch along with “…Old Man’s…”. You’d better believe I’ll be talking about the three predecessors down the line but I am also very curious about the avant-garde era Scott was in from the 90s onwards. Which will get my attention first I wonder?

The Kinks, Something Else by the Kinks

Been in a Kinks mood as of late. I got Face to Face for Christmas and followed it up by streaming the followup. It’s the one with “Waterloo Sunset” on it so it’s automatically guaranteed to be a classic, but special mention must go to the middle portion of the LP, from “Harry Rag” to “Love Me Till the Sun Shines”.

Hot take though. I prefer the Jam’s version of “David Watts” over the original as found here.

Kraftwerk, Radio-Activity

We’ve always seemed to have a recurring interest in nuclear stuff and all the dangers it threatens. The Cold War has repeatedly led us to look at the horrors of radioactivity as if it were a knife of Damacles twirling high above our heads, and we stare in amazement. It’s the kind of thing that gave birth to films like The War Game and Threads, TV series like Netflix’s Chernobyl, and to this album from Kraftwerk.

There’s something robotically joyous in the sound of the title track, almost as if the song itself is basking in the radioactive glow. Possibly the most ironic summer track I’ve ever heard. However, that’s not all this album is about as the ‘radio’ part of Radio-Activity comes into play in the middle. If ever there was a subject to me complemented by the genre of electronic music, it would be radios and walkie-talkies and what have you.

Compared to the more jaunty Autobahn, there are many more eerie moments throughout – “Geiger Counter”, “Radioland”, “The Voice of Energy”, Radio Stars” to name a few. At times you feel trapped in a malfunctioning reactor or a glitchy radio, depending on which track you’re listening to. And yet you can’t help but at the very least bop your head to these sounds. How the hell did these guys twist their melons in such a way to realise such musique concrète like using a Geiger counter as an introductory beat into “Radioactivity”?!

It’s a pretty unsettling album overall, but again you can’t bring yourself to look away no matter how much Kraftwerk try to creep you out.

Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds, Council Skies

Right now in a post-Live 25 environment, we sit in a sort of limbo. Is there more to come from Oasis or is that it? Will Liam and Noel just pick up where they left off with regards to their solo careers? After all, the latter did apparently have a follow up to Council Skies in the works.

Strangely though, I’ve never truly given Noel the time of day as a solo artist. I’ve always been drawn to Liam’s more aggressive sound, even though the subject matter can tend to be rather try-hard stuff that you’d expect indie wrestlers to walk to the ring to. Noel’s is undoubtedly more refined and rewarding but there’s nothing much that has ever stood out for me, except “Ballad of the Mighty I” and “Holy Mountain”.

But for whatever reason, I remembered “Dead to the World” existed one night and good lord what a beautiful song. One of Noel’s best and most emotional vocal performances by a country mile, and to think it’s a song that includes French accordion! After listening to it on and off on repeat for a few days, I figured I better check out the rest of Council Skies. It had gone in one ear and out the other when I heard it during release but now, I felt compelled to sit back and let it settle.

Unfortunately though, I still don’t have much of an opinion on Council Skies, except that the second half is much better than the first. We have since had it confirmed that it was more or less a breakup album but there’s not much spice on offer from that fact. Actually no, that’s not quite true. There is spice, the context does bolster tracks like “Love Is A Rich Man” (which gets bonus points for its twanginess) and “Think Of A Number”, but it gets spread thin elsewhere. Plus, to my absolute frustration there were a couple of songs which were almost right, but there were choices made with their production that dragged them down – The cheap-sounding synth drums in “Pretty Boy”, the needless effects applied to Noel’s voice in “Open The Door, See What You Find”. Unexpected highlight though? “There She Blows!”. Genuinely did not think I’d be enjoying a tune with a title like that, reference to La’s deep cut “Liberty Ship” aside.

If consumed individually, each song sounds much better, as “Dead to the World” did on the night I chose to listen to it, as would “Easy Now” and “Council Skies”. I guess that’s why half of the tracklist was released as singles.

Joy Division, Unknown Pleasures

For the trip to Amsterdam in December, I did take a book with me and that was a birthday present in the form of 24 Hour Party People: What The Sleeve Notes Never Tell You, written by Tony Wilson. I was under the impression it might be an autobiography of some sort. Instead, it was a novelisation of the 24 Hour Party People film that started Steve Coogan as Wilson. All well and good, the film’s great but it does take some liberties for comedic purposes, and the book does much the same.

Anyway, it put me in the mood to hear some of the Factory workers, first and foremost Joy Division. And do you know, I’ve always felt a bit of discomfort and unease when listening to their songs. Not because of the musicianship, quite the contrary as you would struggle to find a more tight-knit sound on a debut record than on Unknown Pleasures. No, it’s the lyrics. Hindsight is fifty-fifty as Barney, Hooky and co. will tell you when you look back at what Ian Curtis penned in his short career as a singer-songwriter. He was struggling with himself big time and hiding it in plain sight in front of us all. “She’s Lost Control”, “Disorder”, “Day of the Lords”…God, so dystopian yet so inviting. And I’m going to talk about him more in a moment, but credit to Martin Hannett for lending Joy Division their distinctive sound. Not sure I’d have said the same if I’d been born 30-odd years earlier and seen them live, but what the hell.

Oh and if you’re wondering where I sit on the Joy Division vs New Order business. Joy Division. Every time. I know they didn’t get a chance to be wank, but their records are pretty much spotless compared to New Order.  

The Durutti Column, The Return of the Durutti Column

When I read Peter Hook’s books on Joy Division and the Hacienda, one band from the Factory era that I don’t believe was mentioned was the Durutti Column. That changed when I read the 24 Hour Party People book and Vini Rielly’s project got itself a fair bit of coverage, to the point where I felt like a bit of a fake fan having never heard of it before.

The book also gave fair warning that Vini couldn’t sing for shit so that set me up nicely for the fact that all songs but one on this here album are instrumentals. But that actually works in its favour because Manchester’s favourite madman Martin Hannett was on hand to helm the production and you can just tell he was having a blast making this. Just him and Vini having a grand old time moulding those guitar riffs like clay and taking them far and wide through the music desk. Once again, proving he’s a genius and we’re all f*cking wankers. Shame we’ll never see any of his like again.

Every track is worth the price of admission, except maybe “First Aspect of the Same Thing” which is a bit too left-field and avant-garde for this album. But the rest are smashing, especially the two seasonal “Sketch” tunes. It’s only half an hour, you can spare that time for the strangest yet most endearing post-punk album you’ll ever hear, can’t you?

Pastel, Souls in Motion

There’s a bit of a burgeoning shoegaze scene in the UK right now; Yndling, Marseille and these guys who are tipped to be Mancunian royalty and yet are Cool Cymru. Ah, you’ve gotta love the broad spectrums of Britpop.

My introduction to them was when I was waiting to go on the air with my radio show one Saturday morning and discovered we had their single “Dancing On A Pin” in our database. Gave it a listen. Three minutes later, it was in the playlist and ready for broadcast. After that I knew I had to check out the album at some point, doubly so because Britpop Memories on Twitter (one of the few reasons left to visit that godforsaken website) called it their album of the year. High praise, but worthy of it?

A storm in heaven most certainly brews in “Your Day”, a threeway lovechild between Verve, Oasis, and the Roses, allowing it to team with “Dancing On A Pin” for a brilliant one-two punch. Indeed, the vocals toe the line between Richard Ashcroft and Tim Burgess and that’s most apparent on cuts like “Deeper Than Holy”. And being a shoegaze album there’s always room for a trippy guitar riff or five like on “Gone Too Fast”. Best song though would have to be what is the outlier on the album, the one where the guitars take a backseat to piano and allow the talents of the band to truly shine through: “Leave a Light On (Velvet Storm)”. It even has some birdsong on it. It’s also one of the rare times where I don’t think that I’m listening to an unearthed 90s b-side. It feels like I’m listening to a Pastel track.

Noel Gallagher once went on record that Oasis was designed to pick up where the La’s left off. I feel like Pastel are on a mission to pick up where the Verve left off. Does it work? Well the only way to truly confirm that would be to draft in Nick McCabe and get his thoughts on it. I personally think they do a grand job. There’s passion and poise on full display from Pastel across the album, they know full well what they’re doing and they’re doing it well. I just feel guilty for constantly drawing parallels and comparisons to the 90s sound, their influences who they so obviously invoke. I truly hope they go far, hell I want to see these lads live. If this is what they sound like on a record, hearing them live must be mesmerising.

And so concludes 2025. Thanks for reading.

Happy New Year!

Thirty Days of Music, Day Thirty

And here we are. The end of the line. A full month of daily posts harkening back to a daft trend I took part in to avoid going mad(der) during the first lockdown. The goal of this series had been variation, first to shake off the same five Christmas songs that haunted us for most of December, and second to see just how much my music tastes had evolved since 2020.

And I’d say that goal was just about met and my tastes have evolved. It’s just that the genres and artists that I’ve been more accustomed to over the years have taken precedent over those who I’ve been giving more of a go. For every Fishmans, there’s at least five ‘white boys with guitars’ bands that I’ll find myself listening to first. But I guess that it’s all simply a case of sticking to what you know and being true to yourself.

Speaking of which.

Day 30: A song that reminds you of yourself

2020: Doctor Who theme

To paraphrase Emily Brontë, my love of Doctor Who as of late resembles the eternal rocks beneath; a source of little visible delight, but necessary.

I’ll try to avoid a rant here but I have summed up some of the recent episodes as ‘shit’, something I rarely did even during the Jodie Whittaker days. But when Ncuti Gatwa suddenly decided to scarper and turned into Billie Piper, I loudly shouted ‘F*ck off’ at the screen. For the first time in twenty years, I questioned being a Doctor Who fan. And if you know how obsessed I am with that show, you’ll know that’s me having a monumentally severe identity crisis.

But regardless how low the lows might be, I would not be who I am today without that show. Whenever I hear that theme, I’ll be transported back to the first time I heard it, in March 2005 and sitting in front of my grandparents’ TV after my Grandpa told me this was something I absolutely had to watch. How right he was.

2025: Doctor Who theme

And he still is.

Right, that’s that then. Got an end-of-month entry for you and that’ll be it for 2025. Let’s put this sorry year to bed.

Thirty Days of Music, Day Twenty Nine

I FORGOT.

At practically the last hurdle I completely forgot to do a daily entry for this series. Way to restore balance to the universe.

Well we’d better quickly get caught up hadn’t we?

Day 29: A song you remember from your childhood

2020: “Lust For Life”, Iggy Pop

Bouncing about on the bed at this, the opening track to one of those Essential Soundtracks CDs put out by Film4, and going so high I’d make the disc jump and skip about. Good times.

2025: “Sunflower”, Paul Weller

Thanks to the rose-tinted spectacles of childhood, this is comfortably a top five Paul Weller song for me. The opening riff never fails to make me warm and smiley, nor does the exemplary drumwork from Steve White. Would’ve gone apeshit if he’d played this when I saw him at the O2 in Newcastle last year. But we got three encores instead so it all balances out.

Right, be with you with the final part of this series in a bit.

Thirty Days of Music, Day Twenty Eight

This is where I’ve realised I’ve backed myself into a corner with my only-use-an-artist-once policy I’ve had for this series; loads of them have tremendous voices that I love. So who’ve I got left?

Day 28: A song by an artist whose voice you love

2020: “Perfect Day”, Lou Reed

That voice crack in the second chorus. Nuff said.

2025: “Life is Golden”, Suede

I’ve used up the other three quarters of the Big 4 of Britpop so now’s as good a time as any to round things off.

But if you are a Suede fan and you want me to highlight one of Brett Anderson’s many, many, many electric and enchanting performances, you probably have a whole myriad of songs you’d expect me to choose. However, for a cinematic album like The Blue Hour, Brett’s voice more than ever seemed ripe for use and “Life is Golden” is a shining example of that.

Honourable mentions though from each of the other albums: “Animal Nitrate”, “The Wild Ones”, “Saturday Night”, “My Dark Star”, “Jubilee”, “Obsessions”, “It Starts and Ends With You”, “Like Kids”, “Turn Off Your Brain and Yell”, and “Life is Endless, Life Is a Moment”.