Saturday is radio day so I’m going to give you a rundown of the playlist from this afternoon’s show.
The La’s, “There She Goes”
There were a few anniversaries to commemorate this week, starting with the release of one of my favourite albums of all time. Might as well celebrate the moment with one of the best songs of all time.
Blur, “Star Shaped”
Normally I’m restricted to playing singles on the radio but exceptions can be made when a deep cut makes its way onto a gig’s setlist, or when someone requests it on TikTok. This was the latter. Hope Callum was listening.
Pulp, “Begging For Change”
For the second year running, Pulp are going to be performing down the road from me in Newcastle, playing at the Utilita as part of the Mercury Prize award. Last time around, it was for their album More, this time they are representing the folks who came together to make War Child’s Help(2) record. Be nice if they won but my hopes aren’t high given the competition. Great single though, definitely the most punk Pulp have ever been. And who says you can’t be anti-establishment in your 60s?
Welly, “Skinny Boy”
Talked about this yesterday, go back if you want to read my thoughts on it.
Supergrass, “Seen The Light”
Another anniversary, this time from 2002 when Supergrass released their fourth album Life On Other Planets. Might be a bit country for a Britpop show but hey it’s Supergrass, who’s complaining?
Suede, “Like Kids”
I went through each of the Big Four of Britpop’s albums on TikTok, to work out what my favourite song is to play from them all. In the middle of it, I realised to my horror that I’d played songs from every single record except Suede’s Night Thoughts. At the risk of sounding like a fraud when it comes to being Spark Sunderland’s Britpop expert (certified, got the badge and all), I don’t actually own Night Thoughts. Never ordered it nor found it out in the wild.
Luckily there was a show that used to be on the air called The Juicebox and they’d added “Like Kids” onto our system. When I found it, I discovered it hadn’t actually been played in a decade. Better late than never, eh?
The Verve, “Lucky Man”
Not a lot in terms of traditional Britpop up to this point, so why not play some Verve?
Shed Seven, “The Centre of My Everything”
Second new single of the week and as with “Skinny Boy”, my thoughts on it can be found on yesterday’s post.
Oasis, “The Shock of the Lightning”
As we anticipate and speculate over Live ’27, one thing under scrutiny is the setlist for next year’s shows. Will it be the same set of songs as it was for Live ’25, or will a few things be changed here and there? According to Liam, we will see some changes as he helpfully explained to us in football terms – We’ve gone through the first half with the same starting squad, now that we’re in the second half, some substitutions will be made. Is there anything about dodgy finances and ill-gotten silverware in this metaphor?
But anyway, if Oasis do want to bring on some subs then I would love to see them try one that is a comparatively young, fast-paced rocker with fire in the eyes. And with Liam’s vocals at the level they are today, it would be great to hear Oasis finally do it justice on the stage.
Robbie Williams, “Spies”
I don’t know what came over me. I was preparing to talk about Kevin Shields being a conspiracy nut and labelling Britpop a government-funded plot, and needed a song to lead into that. For some reason my mind defaulted to one of Robbie’s singles from last year.
The Auteurs, “Show Girl”
If for argument’s sake Britpop was all one big government conspiracy, then I guess it might explain Luke Haines’ resentment of the term.
Manic Street Preachers, “Kevin Carter”
Last of the anniversaries for the day and this is a song that I had as my ringtone for a while. Funnily enough, I did get a call while this was playing. Didn’t answer it in time but I’m 99% sure it was one of those spam calls doing the rounds lately – ‘I have a part time job for you, please add my number on WhatsApp’. It’s not a very well thought out scheme is it?
I am looking forward to the day I’ll be live on the mic and the phone rings though.
Rialto, “Dream Another Dream”
Been a hot minute since I played some Rialto. Good way to end things, methinks.
It’s Friday which means Spotify will have playlisted a bunch of tracks that are new and new-ish from bands and artists that I follow. Let’s run through a few of them and see if they’re worth the trouble.
Blossoms, “The Kardashians”
That funky bassline, meow. Instantly I was lulled into believing this was a distillation from David Bowie’s “Fame”. Sadly, it didn’t turn out to be an attack on that one of many American families that just won’t f*ck off. Lyrics-wise, it’s just another pop song, with the title coming from the line ‘So hungover caught you crying at The Kardashians’. Between this and Tame Impala’s tastes in Family Guy, I’m getting a bit tired of artists talking about what’s on the telly. If we get Sam Fender singing about The Traitors…
“The Kardashians” is not bad. Musically, fantastically boppy. Lyrically, shrugworthy. Ho hum.
Placebo, “Helen Keller”
‘ello, Placebo, what are you up to now?
Oh, you’re taking an old instrumental from your first album, polishing it off and bringing it kicking and screaming into the 2020s with some lyrics over the top? OK then.
I want to use the word harmless to describe this, but that feels like one of the last words that should be uttered when talking about a Placebo song. This is one of the more dangerous bands of the late 90s British scene after all. Yet there seems like a reluctance to push this one further. No volume, no abrasiveness, barely able to resemble the album it’s meant to promote. Brian even sounds like he’s nodding off at the microphone.
It’s fine, don’t get me wrong, you can listen to it wherever and whenever. But it just feels like an unnecessary exercise. Something quick and easy designed to say ‘Coo-ee, we’re going on tour soon, hope to see you there!’.
kaeto, “propane”
I completely forgot about kaeto. Not my normal cup of tea but I added her song “DISTANCE” to my playlist after playing it on the radio one time. Not sure this one will be following suit. I like the atmosphere though, it’s well produced.
Tame Impala, “Loser (Fcukers Remix)”
Oh Christ almighty.
I…no, I’m not bothering with this. Ten seconds is all I need to make my mind up here. If I keep listening, I’ll just end up swearing repeatedly.
Shed Seven, “The Centre of My Everything”
Rick and friends believe they have spawned one of the best songs of their career with this one. Certainly sounds like it’s trying to be with those opening strings, harkening back to prime Britpop tracks like “Whatever” and “History”.
And you know what? They just about achieve it. Here we have an anthem that can finally stand side-by-side with “Chasing Rainbows”. Rick’s vocals are a pleasure to listen to, matching the grandiosity with a mature performance. It all just knits together so well.
I’ll be playing it tomorrow at midday.
(Tune in on 107FM if you’re in Sunderland, or on sparksunderland.com)
That’ll do for now. I might revisit this before it refreshes next Friday. Until then…
I’ve actually tried once or twice to get back to it but the fact of the matter is I haven’t been listening to much music lately, and what I have listened to I really couldn’t be bothered to write about. As I said in previous posts, the idea of listening to music only to have to jot up notes and thoughts later put me off altogether. Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t mean I spent a whole summer without a single song. I did write a few scraps which you’ll see over the coming days.
Between this and the annual payment going through for the website domain, I’ve realised that I need a good kick up the arse. So this is what’s going to happen for October. Over the next thirty-one days, I am going to write thirty-one little pieces. Could be about a song I’ve been anticipating that’s just been released, could be about a record in my collection, could be something radio-related. Whatever the case, something will be written every day this month.
And to start things off, we have a band who I have been waiting to hear new material from for a good long while:
Welly, “Skinny Boy”
If there’s one thing that I’ve become increasingly aware of about the music world these past few years, it’s that you need to pick your moment. How long do you leave your latest piece of work in the fridge before it gets stale? Some of the modern bands who I play on the radio aren’t hanging about. Barbara for example, just released their debut album last year and already they’ve given us three new singles ahead of the sophomore.
But Welly have taken their time. Their debut record Big in the Suburbs did the rounds, got good reviews, was supported by a humble headline tour (including one date in North Shields where muggins here broke a sweat jumping along to the songs), and the odd televised showing teased some new music.
And so we waited, and waited. Time passed. Radio silence on the socials.
Until September. New tour, new merch, new music. Worth the wait?
…Still trying to make my mind up about it, to tell you the truth.
“Skinny Boy” opens by giving the folks of my generation flashbacks to the music classroom in Year 8. That damned DJ button on the keyboards. At least Welly had the good graces not to throw that orgasmy YEAH sound into the mix. But it heralds a bit of a tweak in the band’s sound, giving less prominence to the guitars and more to the keyboards, meaning things are more dance than rock this time around. I’m sure that’ll be great live, but recorded? Again, trying to make my mind up. The lyrics are still sharp as ever though, with the observant Welly noticing Sylvia Platt books on the way from the suburbs to the clubs.
By their own admission, they were going for a Ray-Davies-meets-Underworld kind of vibe. I guess that qualifies as modern Britpop? I’ll be playing it on Saturday regardless. In the meantime, I’m sure that with a few more listens I’ll come round to things and accept the new and improved Welly. But I might need another single to fully come to terms with it. Sooner rather than later, eh?
We’re five years removed from the latest James Bond film with no clear indicator as to when the next one will be, nor who will be donning the tux. Saying that though, some people are vouching for Patrick Gibson off the back of his performance in the latest Bond game 007: First Light.
If you’re a film buff and you think we’re waiting an age for film number twenty-six, spare a thought for the video game fans who spent a good decade believing that Bond games were an extinct breed. From the highs of GoldenEye to the lows of 007 Legends, those of us who got our start taking control of a 3D Bond felt that each passing year confirmed that the latter game had finished the franchise for good.
And then First Light comes along and cue Gene Wilder:
Now I could regale you with the life and times of the Bond video game series for it is an interesting journey. However, this is a music blog so rules decree that I must talk about their soundtracks. For this edition I’m going to pick out the games in the series I played after GoldenEye (already talked about that here: [LINK]), and pick out a maximum of five tracks per game.
007 Tomorrow Never Dies
We begin with the immediate sequel to GoldenEye, and one that seemed to be absolutely determined to be the opposite of its predecessor. System hopped from Nintendo to Playstation, levels halved from twenty to ten, first person perspective to third person, zero voice acting to manhandling the interns into a recording booth, and from a pioneering game to a forgotten clunkfest.
Yeah this game has aged like milk in the sun, no one liked it on release in 1999, even less people like it now. Perhaps its biggest strength is its score from Tommy Tallarico (and Sonic Mayhem, uncredited), although it does take a few sharp turns along the way…
“Outpost”
Heard this one more than I’d care to admit, mainly because I could never pass the first level until I had the bright idea to ask for a new controller with a working R1 button. Bit slow on the uptake, I was.
It carries on the feeling of loneliness and isolation that ran through the GoldenEye soundtrack, although the guitar nicely reflects some of the swagger that Pierce Brosnan was bringing to the role at the time. Might explain why it makes a reappearance in the final level aboard the stealth boat (along with a bunch of other tracks actually…).
“Pressing Engagement”
I’ll cover some more stealth-based music from the series the further into this entry we go, but this track superbly captures the feeling of being a spy weaving through the shadows and picking your moments and shots wisely. Just a shame you can barely sneak around for toffee in this game.
“Media Tower”
As above, but so damn groovy.
I also can’t help but notice that at 53 seconds we have some sounds Tallarico would recycle in his Spider-Man 2000 soundtrack (see that game’s “Warehouse 65”).
“Convoy”
ROAD RAGE!
Seriously, hardcore thrash guitars in a 007 score? If Bond had completely gone off his nut and was blowing up any poor bastard innocent or guilty, sure. But this is just a tad too extreme. Badass though.
It does land better when you face a goon with a grenade launcher and an absurd amount of health. “Convoy” lets you know that if you don’t duck and weave, you are in for it.
“PPK”
The ski sequences are precisely no one’s favourite part of this game, but at least the music that accompanies them is decent. Better still in the final part of the game when you’re up against the clock but there’s one last batch of goons standing between you and freedom.
007 Nightfire
After years of trying EA finally got it right. There’s a sentence you don’t often say.
But after the clunkiness of Tomorrow Never Dies, the eyesore of 007 Racing, the many many ports of The World Is Not Enough, and the so-close-but-not-quite-there Agent Under Fire, we finally got the worthy sequel GoldenEye deserved in 007 Nightfire.
And you know what? It’s my favourite Bond game. I have so many fond memories of it, playing through the campaign, trying to better myself each time to score some unlockables, and losing myself for ages in the multiplayer fighting bots. Bonus points for being the first to use Pierce Brosnan’s likeness, enhancing the feeling that you are playing James Bond instead of a half-decent cosplayer.
And the soundtrack? Put it this way, my limit of five tunes is going to be a massive hindrance here.
“Outside the Castle”
The Exchange is one of the best levels in the entire series. When you start, you have three possible ways of infiltrating the castle – Head on, in the back of a passing wine truck, or around the outer perimeter. Choose either of the latter two and you have the pleasure of hearing another one of those tracks that screams ‘I’m the best damn spy in the world, I can’t be seen’. All throughout, from the strings to the piano, you are reminded that you’re on the edge, perhaps literally, and could blow it at any moment. But how could you? You’re James Bond!
“Enemies Vanquished”
The soundtrack of a great 007 game must include little nods to the films of the past, and go beyond constant rehashes of the Bond theme. That’s exactly what “Enemies Vanquished” does, with Steve Duckworth and Jeff Tymoschuk having clearly done their homework. In this arrangement you can keep an ear out for references to the themes of Live And Let Die and On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, and it’s seamless.
“Ambushed”
Japanese technotronic action ninja boss battle theme!
Christ that thing is terrifying though.
“A Sinking Feeling”
In a first for the series, we have an underwater vehicle level. A lot of people call it their least favourite. Me? Second least, Island Infiltration plods on too much for my liking. It’s an atmospheric one, in the big blue and on your way into the lion’s den as you navigate tunnels and mines. It’s another one of those cautious, one-wrong-step-and-you’re-dead tunes.
“Showdown in Space”
Yes you read that title right. James Bond, back in space. Unfortunately, the final level doesn’t make full use of this concept as it leaves you trapped on a solar panel dodging laser fire for five minutes (But unlike Moonraker, you can actually call this non-canon if you wish!). Luckily, the game’s last helping of level music makes you forget that fact. Truly all-or-nothing.
Ah I want to go on, but even if I could I wouldn’t be able to do Nightfire’s music justice. Here’s the full thing:
007 Everything Or Nothing
A lot of people might cite this as their favourite game in the series, and with good reason. I mean, it has Willem Dafoe as the main villain for crying out loud, plus Pierce Brosnan actually lends his voice to the character. If you’re not a fan of Die Another Day, you can absolutely consider this his real swansong.
The soundtrack’s another corker, continuing the trendy electronic and synth tunes that we’ve seen in the previous games. And once again I’m spoilt for choice when it comes to picking the five.
“Everything Or Nothing” (Jazz Version)
As time wore on and the series continued, we started getting original songs made specially for these games. Nightfire’s was called “Nearly Civilised” which is decent but never earned more than a complimentary nod from me. “Everything Or Nothing”’s title track is sung by Mya and is suitably 2000s, electronic R&B and all.
And then there’s the jazzy version her character (also called Mya, imaginatively) sings when you infiltrate a swanky New Orleans club. Sultry, smoky, intimate. Love it. If jazz isn’t your cup of tea though, there’s always the techno remix you can hear in the post-game bonus levels.
“To Arms”
A pumping action theme to begin the game, and when you have your last proper boss fight. Works both ways.
“Jaws”
Yup, Jaws returns in this game, his fling with Dolly seemingly a distant memory. And while he still struggles to get things right when Bond’s around, he’s less of a prat and much more brutal about it. And much like his aquatic nameksake, he has a theme befitting of a stalking, hulking menace looking to rip you to shreds with his teeth.
“Battle in the Big Easy”
If you heard this before playing the game I’d wager you’d probably think this track came from the final level in the game. I know it’s an overused word but it’s epic. It starts grand and just keeps building on itself, particularly two minutes in when the Bond theme kicks in.
And yet this is only the halfway stage. There’s still a great deal of globehopping and baddy shooting to go. Still though, with explosions, Speed homages, Aston Martins wreaking havoc, and Mya emerging from a sunroof dual wielding submachine guns, you do kind of need a track like “Battle in the Big Easy” to sound as pulse-poundingly grandiose as it does.
“Rooftop Bike Chase”
The Bond theme was overused during this time period, let’s be honest, particularly in the video games. Indeed that’s why I’m not talking about Agent Under Fire in this entry because you’re lucky to go five seconds without it playing. To me this is proof positive that you can bust out Bond moves and feel like the biggest badass on the planet without needing those do-do-do-dooooo’s to accentuate the point. Riding a motorcycle across rooftops in a tux. Yup, this is truly the finale Brosnan’s Bond deserved.
007: From Russia With Love
But after Brosnan’s rather unceremonious exit (read: sacking) from the role, the franchise found itself in a sort of limbo. The cash needed to keep coming in and the role was interchangeable in the video games anyway, so another one would be inevitable.
So who did they draft in? Sean f*cking Connery.
Yup, the man who swore off the role three times over came back for one last hurrah when the boffins at EA decided to do an adaptation of one of the films. From Russia With Love being Connery’s favourite was a definite sweetener. Thus, we went back to the 60s with a soundtrack inspired heavily by the work of John Barry. No synthy gizmos here, this time it’s pure orchestra and moodiness. A welcome change of pace.
“Istanbul”
We don’t get a lot of these calm before the storm kinds of tracks but for the first minute or so of Istanbul Pt1, you can just have a cruise around the Turkish streets in an Aston Martin DB5. It’s one of the better tributes to Barry, down to the smatterings of bongo drums to immerse you in the location, and the cold strings to tell you you’re under the watchful eye of the Soviets.
“Catacombs”
Best action music in the game, it’s so hard-hitting.
“Jetpack Escape”
Jetpacks are in this game. You can shoot rockets from them. Could you do that in 1963? Who gives a toss.
With the opening plucks of string when the jetpack emerges from the floor, you can just picture Connery’s Bond standing there dumbfounded at first. Then, the twinkle in his eye gets brighter as he realises that he’s about to escape and have a lot of fun doing so.
“Chop Shop”
By the time of the Factory level, it’s safe to say that Bond is a little bit pissed off with how things have gone lately. Thus, he rocks up to the enemy compound in the form of a one-man wrecking ball in a jetpack, happily flaunting that licence to kill.
“Tunnel”
Time to run!
Side note, you can hear this in an episode of Top Gear where Clarkson gets a case of crane envy.
Goldeneye Rogue Agent
I have just one word to sum up this soundtrack and the game itself:
As I alluded to the other day when I churned out another entry on video game soundtracks, I haven’t really been going through my record collection as of late. I’ve wanted to but I think I’ve been turned off by the format I chose for the monthlies, the mindset that everything I listen to I must make notes about for the blog. It kind of kills the enjoyment in listening to music, that this is something I have to do rather than I want to do.
Basically, I think I need some time to psych myself back up. I’m going to have plenty of time to do it anyway, the summer hols are coming up after all. And I have a long list of things to try. In fact I may aswell tell you that the title of this monthly was originally going to be ‘Black Sheep, Beatles, and Beck’. So you can probably start working out what to expect come the end of this month, all being well.
In the meantime, I did listen to a few records. Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t try anything beyond them because I did end up diving very deeply into a couple of things as you’ll see.
overpass, Elsewhere, Always
Here come the Brums!
Everywhere I’ve looked in the world of indie, I’ve seen overpass this and overpass that, people swearing blind that they are going to blow up. Proof of the pudding is in the eating though, so I held off until they released their debut album which had been due out a while and is now finally out.
They have a lot to thank the 2000s for, what with the poppy snare drums and white noise fuzz guitar riffs (particularly on “I Will” and the aptly named “Spinning”). But the performance by frontman Max Newbold as he dabbles in falsetto to sell you his raw emotion, that’s what really elevates this record as he sounds like a lost little boy on “Is This Real?” and “Heaven”.
It ain’t a bad way to kill a half hour. You’ll have a good enough time with it, try it.
The Coral, 388
A band I like surprise released a record? So this is how it feels!
You can always spare a minute for the Coral, they have been one of the most consistent bands of the 21st century. As of late they have been dabbling with concept albums, one of which was Coral Island and that was one I rather enjoyed in spite of its length. Can’t say I’ve kept up with the rest, save for “Wild Bird” and that one single they did with John Simm.
But after diving deeper and deeper into themes and new sounds, sooner or later you’re going to want to come up for air and get back to basics. That’s what the Coral do here with 388, named after the tape machine they recorded the whole shebang into. Everything about this album is simple, no frills, hence the surprise release. Just your standard guitars and drums and organs (and a fluttering of flute on “Yellow Moon”).
Instantly we’re set up for channeling the glory days with “Let the Music Play”, and “Leave It In The Past” is a firm warning-to-self to not let it get in the way of the future. There’s plenty of time for emotion and lamentations – ‘We’ll never be this young again’ in “You and Me (And the Beautiful Sea)” can touch a nerve. Oh, and if you need to get re-accustomed to the Coral’s sound then they have little treats in the mix for you. For a start there’s a fair share of dub on display, see “Here Come The Tears” and “Sad Girl”. And you may even be reminded of the Specials in “Yellow Moon”.
Nostalgia forms the backbone of 388 but it’s not an overwhelming desperation to relive the past – the Coral aren’t pulling a Gary King. It’s more of a toast to the old days, mourning and fondly remembering them like one would at the reception after a funeral. It’s a tribute to what made them successful in the first place without the stroking of egos and self-fellatio. The Coral are quietly looking back with fondness, a heavy heart and a bit of caution, and going forward with smiles on their faces.
Blur, Think Tank
For Blur, it’s dead easy to pick out their black sheep record. The one sans Graham.
And I’ll be honest, it’s what’s turned me away from trying it out in full. I’ve heard the singles, given some of the album tracks the time of day, but never the whole course. Tasted, but never consumed. Another thing that bothers me is the context, which draws parallels to White Album-era Beatles – I think it’s fair to say Damon was concentrating more on Gorillaz, a project with seemingly endless possibilities, rather than Blur, a band whose star still shone but now no longer as brightly as the others surrounding it. Inevitably, that’s going to overshadow proceedings and shape part of the sound.
Also shaping the sound are two things – Locale and producer. We have Norman Cook onboard to handle a few tracks which is certainly a choice. And upon remembering how well a change of scenery leant itself to Blur, the band paid a visit to Morrocco which means that we’re going to have more of an African flavouring for these songs. I’m happy to welcome that, I’ll try anything once.
And lo and behold we kick off with “Ambulance” which is built upon samples and synths and African-style drumbeats. It’s a slow yet subtle funk number rounded off by some brass, which I kind of dig. “Out of Time” keeps things moving gradually, starting with (something I only discovered a couple of years ago) 60s Cybermen noises. It’s an obvious hit, wrought with emotion at the millennium men closing themselves off from each other, and breakup hangups, something which Blur are all too good at by now (See “Yuko and Hiro” and most of 13). I can’t help but note the circumstances behind Graham’s departure and these lyrics from the chorus: ‘You haven’t had the time, to open up your mind’. Calling your estranged best mate a closed-minded philistine? Bit harsh.
Now at this point we’re ten minutes in and I’m waiting for this album to truly explode. I know we won’t have Graham around to command it with one of his signature riffs but surely the other three have something in the tank for us…
Is “Good Song” a good song? Eh. It’s one of those ones borne by the conflict in the Middle East. Same goes for “Moroccan Peoples Revolutionary Bowls Club”, which isn’t half bad. Has Damon got any more of these lying around at the moment? “On the Way to the Club” is a nice little deep cut though, love the idea of setting yourself up for disappointment between the lights and the drinks. Besides the strangely inviting electronic tinges knitting everything together, Alex also sneaks in a juicy bit of bass once the verses wrap up. “Caravan” is a more exotic distillation of “Country Sad Ballad Man”. And speaking of throwbacks to the self-titled LP, “We’ve Got a File on You”. Too short to write about, really.
The further we go on though the more you start to realise this is not a Blur record. It’s a Gorillaz record disguised as a Damon solo record with the Blur name stamped on it. Without Graham around to keep things traditionally rocky to some degree, Damon is essentially off the leash and free to experiment with new instruments and add some electronica into the mix with the help of Norman Cook. For example, “Brothers and Sisters” is catchy but it sounds like 2D on the mic, not Damon. “Gene by Gene”’s lyrics had to have been made up on the fly, there’s no other way to justify the words ‘Fatboy and the barn is pumping’. Surprised Del the Funky Homosapien didn’t get flown to Morrocco to round things off. And as much as I enjoyed “…Revolutionary Bowls Club”, there is a lot going on in the production that it’s easy to forget that somewhere in there are Dave and Alex too.
Ironically, the most Blur-sounding track, and in turn perhaps the one to share pole position with “Out of Time”, is the one about how they’re coming apart. “Sweet Song”. What a performance by Damon, tugging at the heart strings and daring you not to cry. “Jets” gives the band as a whole a chance to spread their wings in a…6 minute throwaway. Great. It feels like a jam session that they tinkered with for a few minutes in the studio before getting bored and dropping it in the saxophonist’s lap. Luckily, “Battery in Your Leg” sees Graham return and not a moment too soon. It’s heavy and spacy and at least closes proceedings on a high note…
“Me, White Noise”: ME WHITE NOISE ME WHITE NOISE UNDERSTAND?!
Oh f*ck off, Phil.
Think Tank strikes me as an album Blur felt compelled to make, to excise a few demons and keep the crowd onside. In turn, it may also feel like an album Blur fans are compelled to listen to out of curiosity or dedication. The only trouble is no one on either side is left feeling the better for it. I respect it more than I like it. That’s as good as it’s going to get from me.
Suede, A New Morning b-sides
So the above Blur album only has two songs on it that I would happily come back to (“Out of Time” and “Sweet Song”). The same can be said for this album I reviewed a while back, Suede’s supposed new beginning which spelled a fatal end. It flopped then, and it flopped hard for me when I listened to it. An “Obsessions” does not an album make.
Yet I read this Britpop fan mag on TikTok at the beginning of May which tried to make the case for A New Morning. I didn’t agree, obviously, but I couldn’t help but notice it painted the album’s strengths as tracks that weren’t even on the actual record. The b-sides.
One of these b-sides was “Simon”. Initially I was under the impression it would be some sort of tribute to Simon Gilbert on the drums. Then I read it was about a friend of Brett’s who took their own life. But even before that bit of perspective you can immediately tell that compared to most of the songs recorded around this time, Brett has a fire lit under his arse as he wants to do Simon’s memory justice. ‘No one believed you when you said your heart was blue’. Dear God that is a brutally regretful line. The stripped-back sound may not have paid off for the whole album but here, it does in dividends. What a start.
“Cheap” is a return to form unfortunately. It’s a song that begs for a touch of the wry in the lyrics, something Neil Hannon could have tons of fun with. Alas, Suede play it straight and with a dash of sophisti-pop for good measure. But you know what did make me laugh? The opening to “Campfire Song”. ‘I f*cking hate the countryside’. That caught me off guard, I didn’t expect it to be recorded round an actual campfire. Suede do folk. Whatever next? Just a shame they kept the mic running for another minute and a half after they finished singing, the joke had well and truly run its course by then.
“One Love” is groovy enough but sounds a bit flat, and Brett’s worn voice from around this time rears its ugly head again. It threatens the clear weather in “Colours” too but I found that one to be pleasant if inoffensive. Where the lyrics are concerned, “Superstar” sounds like top 30 fodder for 1992, not 2002. It’s easy on the ears, almost too easy given that this is Suede. I do like Brett’s performance towards the end though, he hits those high notes quite nicely.
I think by the time I reached those latter two tracks though, I was finally adjusting to the sound of A New Morning. It was Suede trying something new, hence the title suggests. Lighter, softer. Why wait for the rough and tumble? Oh never mind, here’s “Cool Thing”. I played it on the radio once, can’t remember why. It could’ve found a spot on the final playlist, mind. So could “UFO” and “Rainy Day Girl”. The former’s literal alienation (‘Does anybody feel like me?’) makes it one of the better cuts, and the latter has a welcome touch of Coming Up about it, with Alex Lee finally getting a chance to elevate a song with his keyboard work. I’ll chuck “You Belong To Me” into the mix too, we’ve gone over the same subject matter ten times over by that point but with a bit more TLC it might genuinely have been single material.
“Instant Sunshine” is a misnomer, you instantly hate it for sounding Oasis-lite and those closing la-la-las will make you cringe. “Hard Candy” was touted as a good ‘un by the fan mag when really it’s a retread of “Elephant Man” (of all things) with a lackadaisical performance from Brett. “ABC Song” is worthy only of a ‘meh’. “Love The Way You Love” is the most-2000s track I’ve heard in a minute and…oh Christ, they opened their set at Glastonbury ’03 with it?! Scratch that, they played the Pyramid Stage and decided it was the best way to get the crowd onside?! Surprised that didn’t cause a mass exodus back to the tents.
While some of them do work and are worth a glance, these b-sides carry the same stink that plagued the album they were made to accompany. Even if we chose the absolute best of the best from here, and used them to replace the worst of the worst found on A New Morning, we would still have Suede’s weakest album bar none. There’s not enough substance here to redeem this era. It’s all so dismally vanilla.
