Entry #49 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: June and July 2025 (a.k.a The Dimery Files, part one)

So there was no monthly entry for June because I had a pretty heavy time in terms of work, meaning I couldn’t really be arsed to sit down and flick some music on. That being said, I did have time for one particular single and it is:

The Molotovs, Today’s Gonna Be Our Day

When I last spoke of the Molotovs, I stated that their anthemic stylings were surely going to turn heads. I’d like to reiterate that statement because, while More More More was an introduction by way of a slap over the head, Today’s Gonna Be Our Day shakes you violently to wake you up and get you off your arse.

THIS is an anthem for 2025. THIS is a call to the disillusioned youth. THIS is a Mod song in spades. THIS is well-deserving of another number one on the vinyl charts. If anyone else tries to claim otherwise, play them this song and show them just how dead wrong they are.

Can’t wait for that album now. Sack off 2025, roll on 2026. Wasted on Youth, get it pre-ordered.

Now, as mentioned last time, I wanted to add a bit of spontaneity to proceedings this time around. I’ve had the book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die on my shelf for a long time now but I’ve not quite used it to point me in the direction of new albums that may go against my usual tastes.

Until now.

Yes, combining this book with a random number generator, I am going to listen to a series of albums solely based on luck and the word of Robert Dimery. Whatever number I am given is the page I must read. Plus, to make sure I don’t get bogged down in one particular genre I will reroll the generator in the event that I draw numbers that are too close together.

Page 814 – Robbie Williams, Life Thru A Lens

You’ve got to be kidding me. I wanted to draw the line at Rocket but no, the Gods of music have decreed I must now suffer through a Robbie LP. Then again, this is his Britpop album before, well, Britpop, so maybe this could be a nice way of easing me into this menagerie of music I’ve set myself.

Story goes that Robbie was heavily influenced in the making of this album by Oasis, and that’s clear as early as the closing moments of opening track Lazy Days – Those gravelly yeah-yeah’s sound more like a certain L.Gallagher. But to be honest, this album sounds like an amalgamation of the Britpop scene at large: Life Thru a Lens is reminiscent of Lovelife-era Lush, Ego Agogo and South of the Border seem borne from early Supergrass and Ocean Colour Scene, respectively, and Old Before I Die? Take your pick for that one.

For a solo debut, it can be a risk sounding so much like your peers, and ultimately Life Thru A Lens feels like a case of throw shit at the wall and see what sticks – I’ve heard more cohesive albums. Luckily, the one song that everyone knows about from this album, Angels, sticks out enough to allow Robbie to stand on his own two legs. It shows he can write a decent song and do them justice with his vocals. It’s not a song I ever imagined I’d enjoy, and it does seem like a weird outlier in the tracklist (making South of the Border come across as a bit of a hard left turn), but I must admit it earned my respect. Just as it earned the critics’ respect and kept Robbie’s career on life support and ready for the new millennium.

Let Me Entertain You was also pretty bloody good.

Page 22 – Frank Sinatra, In the Wee Small Hours

Fancy that, I end up with the very first album the book talks about, and with an artist who I first became aware of as a wee lad playing Tony Hawk’s Underground 2. Yes, a game whose soundtrack is filled with metal, punk, emo, hiphop, reggae, and a curious but welcome smattering of Johnny Cash and Frank Sinatra. God I miss the 2000s.

If it wasn’t Sinatra, I would’ve been apprehensive with going back as far as 1955 to listen to an album (baring in mind my cutoff point is typically the 60s). However, to hear him sing is like hearing an old friend, bumping into them in a smoke-filled bar, and then going for a walk under moonlight in the (funnily enough) Wee Small Hours. Trouble is, they’re tipsy and lonely, hence the mood and the subject matter that dominates this album. Sinatra was at a personal low point and his raw emotions bleed into every orifice of every song. You could tell he wanted to get this album right, and get it right he did because good lord that man could sing. I think the next time I listen to this, I should have a glass of Jack Daniels on my left and an ashtray on my right.

Page 233 – John Lennon, Imagine

I can’t tell if the title track is aging like fine wine or milk in the sun. The world is f*cked enough as it is, it became even more f*cked midway through June, and then there’s the minor issue of Gal Gadot turning the song into a joke during the pandemic.

Anyway, the rest of the album sounds lovely, some slick production on this one. If you take the time to read between the lines you are rewarded in dividends (see Jealous Guy). That is, unless John is knocking you over the head with the messaging (see I Don’t Wanna Be A Soldier Mama and Gimme Some Truth). As a lighter successor to Plastic Ono Band, Imagine is very easy to listen to and, dare I say it, everyone involved sounds like they’re having fun. And I am too.

Also, I was ready to hate the closer Oh Yoko!, but John went and ended it with a harmonica solo. Clever bastard.

Page 584 – Terence Trent D’Arby, Introducing The Hardline According To Terence Trent D’Arby

When I told people that I would be listening to a Terence Trent D’Arby album, the responses ranged from groans and eyerolls to ‘godspeeds’. Bodes well, dunnit? Plus, I had to laugh when I read that when gearing up for its release, Terence/Sananda labelled it the most important album since Sgt.Pepper’s…

I believe the term used by the kids these days to describe the sound and beat is it ‘slaps’. We are knee deep in the 80s here, and the percussion is here to slap you across the face with that fact. It can be a bit much at times but overall I like the sound of the album (bar the keyboards on Dance Little Sister, gives me ‘Casio from the charity shop’ vibes), I really need to tap into funky stuff down the line. Terence/Sananda is a decent vocalist with a lot of energy, it’s easy to picture him bouncing about while struggling to stay within distance of the mic. Trouble is he hovers too far towards wet and then growly. There’s a lack of a happy medium. All in all, this isn’t an album I’d actively seek out but I wouldn’t mind it if I came across it in the wild, in the supermarket or on the radio in a taxi.

That’s about half of the albums I’ve gotten from Dimery and the wheel, I’ll save the other half for August. Before I sign off though, there were a couple of other things that I listened to in this here July, not because fate forced them upon me, but because I wanted to:

Cocteau Twins, Heaven or Las Vegas

My TikTok suddenly became full of people calling this the dog’s bollocks when it came to dream pop. Well, that and latter-day Fishmans (I seriously need to do an entry on one of their albums at some point). ‘Timeless’ would probably be the word I’d use to describe Heaven or Las Vegas – Radio 1 could easily get away with sneaking the singles into their A List. ‘Trippy’ also springs to mind thanks to the production leaving you feeling like your brain is swimming in a whirlpool. ‘Excellent’? With songs like Pitch the Baby and the title track, the word ‘excellent’ should definitely be applied. This is a must-listen.

Massive Attack, Mezzanine

Trip hop is a genre whose iceberg I have touched the tip of once or twice, mainly through Massive Attack. This month, I gave it another go with Mezzanine, captivated by that album’s reputation for being much darker and with an industrial flourish. End result? A damn good LP. Portishead next, methinks.

Ok, that’s enough for now. Three things to look forward to next month:

  1. Another batch of albums pre-selected from the Dimery book.
  2. Finally summoning the courage to listen back and review a brand new album from one of my favourite bands.
  3. I’m going on a train journey tomorrow. Gotta listen to some albums to get me through.

Entry #48 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: May 2025 (a.k.a Sequelitis and Singles)

I wanted to try and establish a theme for this month. If you don’t know, Sequelitis is a term reserved for sequels to an artist’s magnum opus that don’t quite make the grade. Sometimes it’s because it went in a totally different direction and hit a wall, sometimes the artist in question just gave up, or sometimes it simply didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of being as good. In musical terms, it’s your Be Here Nows, your Tusks, your Give Out But Don’t Give Ups.

Sometimes though, Sequelitis is averted. For example, Radiohead managed it with Kid A as we’ve established here on A-Side Glance (see here: https://asideglance.com/2021/01/23/entry-16-kid-a-a-k-a-fames-a-bitch-part-2/). I wanted to see if it’s the case for this month’s bands and artists. Could they keep their career apexes going with a one-two punch, or was the sky just a bit too high?

But first!

Earlier this month a half dozen singles were released within a week that piqued my interest. As I continue to do my Britpop show on Spark Sunderland (and indeed I’ve already covered all of them on that show), I’m all too happy to see some favourites of mine still releasing new material, as well as relative newcomers and outsiders. That being said, I want to get the negatives out of the way and we begin with a musician who has been suffering from sequelitis since…God, if his fanbase is anything to go by, 2002?

Richard Ashcroft – Lover

That about sums it up.

I get that musicians are allowed to explore different avenues, perhaps bring their music more up to date. But considering the lofty highs Richard Ashcroft has been measured against for the past thirty years, he would need an airtight song to get his loyal fanbase onside.

Take one look at the comment section of the vid and you will discover that that is not the case.

Ashcroft has produced a song that sounds like it was solely made to get him back in the charts, quality and principles be damned. It ticks all the boxes of a modern day, stream-as-background-noise song. Heavy and overbearing bass and percussion? Check. Bland lyrics about love and a chorus a six-year-old would write? Check. Overuse of yeah-yeahs and oh-ohs like a C-tier R&B singer? Check. Autotune from Richard f*cking Ashcroft? Check-o-rama.

I get that he’s never going to recreate Urban Hymns, and nor may he even want to. But this? Ashcroft is way above this. Ironically though, if he plays this at Wembley it’ll make the crowd even more hyped up for Oasis – They won’t be able to wait for this song to end.

Paul Weller – Lawdy Rolla/Pinball

Paul’s about to add another notch to his belt, and when Find El Dorado was announced I was most certainly hyped up.

Then I read it was a covers album.

Call me stubborn but I cannot abide covers albums, I find them to be a waste of time, placeholders until the artist can be bothered to get something original out again. And this isn’t the first time Paul has done this – See Studio 150. Although to be fair, that album does include Wishing on a Star which does prove that Paul can put enjoyable spins on other’s music. So I might be writing this new album off a bit too soon.

That being said, Lawdy Rolla isn’t doing it for me. It’s a bit too basic and while the saxophone solo is enjoyable, it’s not enough to get me on side. Ditto for Pinball and it’s sprinklings of Mellotron.

I think I’ll be giving Find El Dorado a miss.

The Kowloons – I Don’t Care

You don’t get a lot of bands who are proud to flaunt their music as Britpop these days, but the Kowloons are perhaps the biggest exception to the rule. They have a clear love of the genre, and British music at large, helped by the fact they come from Liverpool. I first became aware of them when they covered lost La’s song Fishing Net, and lately I’ve been getting a kick out of featuring them on the radio.

I Don’t Care is their latest Britpop anthem, influenced by the words of Noel Gallagher and Lee Mavers, and refined by Chris Griffiths of the Real People. It’s a song for the summer, prompting one to get off their arses and just enjoy themselves.

Sweet. That’s the best way to describe this song, and you cannot help but smile when you listen to it. It’s impossible to hate because everything just seems to click. You can read the lyrics as romantic or chummy however you wish, you can nod your head to the beat (emanating from drums once used by ex-La Chris Sharrock), and you can dance along to the acoustics (in turn emanating from a guitar belonging to Lee Mavers. The Kowloons are well-connected it seems). I need to see these guys live at some point.

Suede – Disintegrate

Suede are on their way back with their tenth LP in September, and for me personally it’s got a lot to live up to. Their most recent effort, 2022’s Autofiction, was probably their best album since Coming Up, so it bodes well that the upcoming Antidepressants appears to be weaved from the same cloth. Suede are transitioning from punk to post-punk, and they’re doing well so far with the title track and the new single, Disintegrate.

It took a couple of listens for it to grow on me (Like Blur’s The Narcissist, this initially felt a bit flat), but it’s a proper good thumper of a track that’s going to sound incredible once the lads are back on tour. I was going to say that Brett’s voice sounds as great as ever, but frankly that applies to Suede on the whole. They’ve been back together for well over a decade now and they haven’t put a foot wrong. The consistency continues strong, and I can’t wait for Antidepressants on September 5th.

Pulp – Got To Have Love

In case you needed reminding that Jarvis is one of the wittiest songwriters to be found here in Britain, here’s a song that was trialled but didn’t make it onto We Love Life. Now it’s part of More, and it more than deserves its flowers.

If Spike Island was a spiritual sequel to Sorted For E’s and Wizz, then Got To Have Love is the natural progression from F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E. Pulp have more often than not dipped their toes into the waters of 70s sounds. For this, it’s an elegant swandive complimented by Jarvis giving himself a stern talking to and shirking the idea that ‘love’ is a cliché. Highlights include “Without love, you’re just jerking off inside someone else” and “So learn to say it whilst keeping a straight face, yeah say it, say it you ponce”

Bonus points for replacing the uncanny valley AI with old recordings of the Wigan Casino.

Roll on June 6th.

Robbie Williams – Rocket

Don’t close the tab just yet, stick with me here. No I haven’t lost my mind, no I am not losing my edge, I am merely taking a curious delve into Robbie Williams’ newest single because he has announced his next album is called Britpop. As I play and provide patois on Britpop on the radio, I had to at least check out what he was up to.

And damn me to hell and back, I actually liked this.

This will inevitably be chalked up to some as Robbie having a midlife crisis – He’s gone on record as saying this was the album he wanted to make post-Take That, and here he is glorifying the mid 90s scene (“What a time to be alive!”) whilst parading around London in an outfit that has to be seen to be believed. But his fast, frenetic performance helpfully complimented by Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath (!) is the best kind of ear worm. It doesn’t leave you behind, and you don’t mind that at all. And because of that, I am for the first time in my life looking forward to a Robbie Williams album.

Screw it, let Robbie play this live and then follow it up with Old Before I Die and I’d argue he should be the one supporting Oasis, bollocks to Ashcroft.

Ok maybe that’s a bit too far, let’s talk albums now.

Spiritualized – Let It Come Down

Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space is one of my favourite albums of all time, and it’s easy to see why it beat such heavyweights as Urban Hymns and OK Computer to top the NME’s albums of the year list in 1997. That in turn explains why the follow up was a four-year job for Jason Pierce – Anything short of perfect would be considered a disaster. But the man, with seeming ease, doesn’t just grab the bull by the horns; he brings it to kneel and dares it to call Let It Come Down shit.

Ladies and Gentlemen… is often considered a breakup album, one of a heavy and broken heart, so you’d be forgiven for thinking that this is the ‘rebound’ album where Pierce says he’s OK now. And indeed, you are lulled into that mindset at first, until you reach Out of Sight and you realise “Ok, no, he’s still smarting”. Around the same time, you also end up thinking “Christ almighty, this makes a Phil Spector mix sound thin, how much layering does one song need?”. “Yes.” is Jason’s simple reply.

While this technique does occasionally feel like a gimmick that leaves songs like The Twelve Steps overly smothered and lathered, it does overall bolster this album to its status as a worthy successor to Ladies and Gentlemen…. It might be a trite term, but there’s no other word I can think of to describe Let It Come Down than ‘majestic’.

Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

In the gaming world, there’s been a popular meme lately where people name something rare and unexpected thing (like the pandemic, the two Trump presidencies and the Oasis reunion to name a few) that we got before Grand Theft Auto VI.

I guess right now the mainstream music equivalent is getting all these things before the fifth Tame Impala album. Borderline still gets played once in a blue moon on the radio but we haven’t had anything new from Kevin Parker since 2020.

I get he’s a perfectionist, that much is clear in how polished The Slow Rush is. But can he please hurry things along because this album can only fill the hole for so long. It ain’t crap, but it ain’t no Currents or Lonerism either.

The Divine Comedy – Fin de Siècle

Another one of my favourite albums is Casanova. It’s follow up is both an album that didn’t get the time of day in 1998, and one I still forget to pronounce correctly (10 years on from when my brain vomited up every last word of French to the point of no return on my GCSE paper).

But why does it have the status of ‘Just another Divine Comedy album’? Does Fin de Siècle not have any classic tracks on it? Well that’s an immediate no, it’s got National Express on it, except when you listen to the album you realise that that song sticks out like a sore thumb – It’s the only real classic Divine Comedy track to be found. That being said, Commuter Love and Sunrise are two superb tracks in their own right and should absolutely not be slept on under any circumstances.

The sound of the band is more confident and mature than its predecessors, they have definitely found their footing by this point and songs like Thrillseeker and Sweden are elevated massively as a result. However the album’s main drawbacks can be traced to the undercurrent of dourness and the lack of trademark wink-and-nudge. Take the lead singles; Generation Sex is a passing swipe at the lad scene and at times the whole of the 90s, but the smirk behind the lyrics doesn’t make it the most endearing listen; The Certainty of Chance might sound magnificent but it seems more focused on being whimsical than witty. Strange for a band called the Divine Comedy.

On the whole, I like Fin de Siècle. But I can’t push myself to love it like Casanova as I think I should. Sequelitis struck Neil down here.

Happy Mondays – Yes Please!

This could very easily have been a case of an album’s reputation being more interesting than its content. Here are the cliffnotes:

Shaun was religiously chasing the dragon, Bez kept breaking his arm, Mark was tanking mentally, producers Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth were questioning their life choices, Johnny Marr came and wisely went after 20 minutes, the island of Barbados turned out to be a crack haven, and Factory ended up paying £50 to hear a series of instrumentals because the band (or rather, Shaun) had either run out of time or hadn’t bothered to do lyrics.

Happy the Mondays were not, and that much is clear in the sound of songs such as Stinkin’ Thinkin’ and especially Angel, which shows that post-punk can indeed mix with funk. Fair play on that one. Unfortunately, the rather one-dimensional sounds of the Caribbean and the general antipathy which can be heard in Shaun’s lyrics and singing can at times be off-putting.

Having listened to it, I think it’s the album’s reputation that in turn bolsters its content and makes it interesting – It sounds like a fun holiday in the sun, which keeps uncontrollably spinning into disaster, and if you read between the lines you’ll know that our Mancunian tourists aren’t feeling it. Far from an instant classic compared to Pills, Thrills and Bellyaches, and arguably too stark a departure from the Madchester sound the Mondays helped pioneer, but I don’t think this should be written off with a ‘No thanks’ as it was in 1992. Give it a swatch.

Right then, got an idea for next time. I want to be more eclectic with my albums next month so I’m going to leave it in the hands of fate. Or rather, a 900+ page book, and a random number generator.

Entry #47 – Eurovision 2025 (a.k.a Austria to the rescue!)

It’s Sunday and another Eurovision Song Contest is in the rear view mirror. And I guess me making an entry on Eurovision is becoming a biannual tradition here on the blog – I review one year, skip the next and return the year after with batteries recharged and ready to be entertained by two solid hours of music.

That’s the idea at least.

I think the last two times I’ve written an entry on Eurovision have made it relatively clear that I’m not exactly the target audience. So why do I keep turning to it? I dunno, sense of community I guess, getting to cheer and jeer the best and worst picks along with the rest of Europe is a good feeling. Plainly put, I just want to have some fun. And you know what, I definitely had fun watching this year’s participants. There were quite a few more memorable acts this time around, the two hours flew by, and I want to document it right now.

This time around, I’m going to run through the entire batch of finalists, and there will be scores out of ten given for each one.

Norway – Lighter by Kyle Alessandro:

“You couldn’t ask for more.” said Graham Norton once the song had finished.

Mmm, yes we could. Wasn’t too fond of the singer’s dancing at first (in fact, I wrote down that it was giving me Gary Barlow vibes), but he loosened up as time went on. This was a trend setter in terms of visuals though, very impressive on that one, and the show as a whole was a joy to watch from start to finish. To listen to though? Well, we’ll see about that.

Apart from the decent high note though, I did find this to be a bit boring.

5/10

Luxembourg – La poupée monte le son by Laura Thorn:

Maybe sounding like an ABBA-esque tune remoulded for the 2020s helped it considerably, but I enjoyed this one a lot more than most. I’m a sucker for songs that sound like throwbacks, and for confident performers like Laura Thorn who I hope goes far.

7.5./10

Estonia – Espresso Macchiato by Tommy Cash:

Never judge a book by its cover. When the introductory footage began rolling and me and my Mum took our first look at Tommy, she immediately wrote him off as “looking like an incel”. When the song started, we had our heads in our hands. Three minutes later, I couldn’t help but smile a smidge. It grows on you, this song. It was an early reminder to not be such a cynical bastard and enjoy the good times.

6/10

Israel – New Day Will Rise by Yuval Raphael:

No.

0/10

—–

Lithuania – Tavo akys by Katarsis:

Started off with me saying “turn up the mic, we can’t hear you.”

Ended with “never mind, should’ve kept it turned down.”

Katarsis? Stick it up your arse, sis.

1/10

Spain – Esa diva by Melody:

You have to be brave to go on stage in front of a whole watching continent and bare the name Melody – One bum note and you’re finished.

You know that Peter Kay stand-up routine about misheard lyrics? Yeah, we had that problem with this song. We could’ve sworn she was saying “Check out me beaver.”

If Spain really wanted to win this year as Graham said then that wasn’t going to do the trick.

3/10, for unintentional comedic value.

Ukraine – Bird of Pray by Ziferblat:

Another Peter Kay moment, this time we thought the singer was saying he was going to be “buying you pizzas.” It was a very whole-lot-of-nothing performance which could be summed up by the constant strolling back and forth which made us wonder if he was doing a sponsored walk.

Come on Ukraine, you’re better than that.

3/10

Intermission – Sandre Struder:

Douze points!

No seriously, that was better than anything we’ve had so far.

United Kingdom – What the Hell Just Happened? by Remember Monday:

It…wasn’t bad. In fact, it was good. Huh.

I mean, it was frighteningly close to screechy at times but everything came together very nicely and for the first time since I started watching Eurovision, I actually thought we did well (I missed 2022 and Sam Ryder). Good on Remember Monday, they did a grand job and to end up doing worse on the scoreboard than Olly Alexander did is an injustice.

So yeah. Turns out Sam wasn’t a fluke and we can put on a good show at Eurovision. Shame the public disagreed (nul puis, my arse).

7/10

Austria – Wasted Love by JJ:

Did anyone tell JJ the opera house was next door?

Seriously though, even though I didn’t really care much for this song, I have no problem at all with it winning after what was damn near a major PR disaster for the contest.

5/10

Iceland – Róa by Væb:

Throw everything up to and including the kitchen sink into the performance and get it sung by what appears to be Iceland’s answer to Jedward, and you have an effort that I couldn’t help but like.

6/10

Latvia – Bur man laimi by Tautumeitas:

While the costumes were almost definitely a choice (not helped by an image on the Eurovision subreddit of the group with axolotl heads), this was another that seemed to tick all the boxes.

Harmony? Check.

Choreography? Check.

Atmosphere? Check.

It just needed a bit of extra punch but that was all.

Dare I say it, I’m rather enjoying myself tonight…?

7/10

Netherlands – C’est la vie by Claude:

A tribute to Mum is always nice. This started very well when it was just Claude on his own, but once the beat started the song descended into cookie cutter unfortunately.

4/10

Finland – Ich komme by Erika Vikman:

Sadly I missed some of this as I had to take the dog out for a wee. What I did see could be best described as f*cking bananas, in a good way. Finland is always a reliable country in the contest and this year was no exception. All credit in the world to Erika for having the balls to go that high on something that looked so flimsy. Tom Cruise, eat your heart out.

Loved it, loved it, loved it.

8/10

Italy – Volevo essere un duro by Lucio Corsi:

Subtitles? How considerate! Aesthetically, this was my cup of tea. Musically, not so much, it’s the same problems that Norway had except this was dry and drab. Harmonica may be a weakness of mine but it wasn’t enough to salvage this song from an act my Dad dubbed ‘The Beige Stripes’.

3/10

Poland – Gaja by Justyna Steczkowska:

Again, great to watch, not so great to listen to – A key or two too low for my tastes. Good attempt from goth Daenerys, but it ain’t for me.

3/10

Germany – Baller by Abor & Tynna:

Jendrik, come back, all is forgiven.

0/10

Greece – Asteromata by Klavdia:

Barely wrote anything down for this one. Just ‘epitome of style over substance’.

2/10

Armenia – Survivor by Parg:

Saturday May 17th 2025 seemed to be a day of crumbling empires. Here in the UK, we saw Manchester City fail to win the last possible piece of silverware (Well done, Palace, very happy for you), and in Basel the songwriters behind contest winners Tattoo and The Code brought us this.

I was genuinely onboard with this song until we reached the chorus. Then me and my Mum realised this sounded like Vindaloo and we gave up hope.

4/10

Switzerland – Voyage by Zoë Më:

Was Barbra Pravi not available?

Took me a while but I was just about fine with this by the time it finished.

5/10

Malta – Serving by Miriana Conte:

Serving vanilla.

Fine. Next.

4/10

Portugal – Deslocado by Napa:

Repeating what I said with Estonia, don’t judge a book by its cover. However, whereas with that one I was dismissive from the get go, this time I was overexcited because here was what looked like an indie band. And indeed, the song we got was indie, except it sounded like a more reserved piece from X&Y-era Coldplay. Not bad, not brilliant, probably not the right kind of song for Eurovision but it did reach the finals so c’est la vie.

5/10

Denmark – Hallucination by Sissal:

I liked this one, it was a well-needed burst of energy. Although I swear I’ve heard those ‘ooh’s’ somewhere, the answer has been on the tip of my brain for hours now and it’s pissing me off.

6/10

Sweden – Bara bada bastu by KAJ:

Phenomenal.

Call me predictable but this was by far and away my favourite performance of the evening. I have no notes, it just made me smile and giggle the whole way through and you better believe I’m adding it to my playlist.

10/10

Intermission – Waterloo

When I said there’s a sense of community about watching Eurovision, the whole of Europe coming together to have fun, this is what I meant. 36,000 people singing Waterloo? Beautiful.

France – Maman by Louane:

It’s another motherly tribute sung in French. Lovely. Not to take away from Louane’s performance but I guarantee that it’s going to be parodied for a cereal advert within the next five years.

3/10

San Marino – Tutta l’Italia by Gabry Ponte:

Clearly the brief was simply ‘sound Italian’. Mission accomplished. Probably a good thing they didn’t employ the same choreographers as France did other wise the stage would probably have been drenched in meatballs.

Oh, the song? Shit. Next.

1/10

Albania – Zjerm by Shkodra Elektronike:

Did the best get saved till last? Did it shite.

All I noted down was my Mum saying the bloke had a big nose.

1/10

There you go then, that’s my verdict on this year’s Eurovision finalists. I’ve had worse nights. And even if every single song wasn’t worth the time, it’s good to remember this:

“There were 11 other songs eliminated, so if you’re not enjoying the songs tonight, just remember, there were worse.” – Graham Norton.

So. That’s another Contest in the books. See you in Austria.

Oh, and for the love of God, can we not come so close to a controversial shitstorm next time? That televote brought us a gnat’s hair away from a major boycott.

Entry #46 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: April 2025 (a.k.a Rekindling Affairs)

When I started doing these once-a-month entries, I had set myself a rule that I would only talk about a song or an album in 100 words or less. Couldn’t do it this time, I had so much to say regarding this month’s selections that confining myself to 100 words was an impossibility. I’d say that rule has lasted as long as Liz Truss did, but that’s old hat at this point. It lasted as long as Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s reunion. Remember that?

Anyway.

I’ve been on my Easter hols this week, which has meant that I’ve had more time to (be arsed to) listen to music. And we’re going to start with a double whammy from the man who claims not to be Jesus, but has the same initials.

Pulp, Spike Island

Well. Hel-f*cking-lo Jarv and co., it’s been a while. Pulp are bringing us More come June and this is the first taste we’ve had of that album. Dubbed by Jarvis as a sister song to Sorted For E’s and Wizz, it won’t scratch that 24-year itch straight away but it’ll grow on you in no time. After a couple of repeats, you’ll be begging for, well, More. It’s almost as if they’d never left.

Between this, Rialto, the Divine Comedy, Suede and Kula Shaker all bringing out new albums this year, it’s safe to say us Britpop traditionalists are eating well this year.

Pulp, Separations

Literally the night before Spike Island came out, I was already on the More hype train and fancied tucking into a Pulp album. Of all of them I was intrigued by Separations, what with it being kind of a transitional phase between early Pulp and the band we know and love. There’s two sides of a coin on here – ballads vs acid house. Side A is a bit plodding but well-written, then along comes the one-two punch of Countdown and My Legendary Girlfriend and it’s an ecstasy-driven kick up the arse for the LP. Growing pains are still present here; the production is at times a little hamfisted and overbearing. Jarvis’ performance is a highlight, but using na-na-na’s to plug gaps in the stanzas gets a bit excessive after a while. But by gum, My Legendary Girlfriend is the band’s first true magnum opus, and if I were Jarv I’d have to light a cigarette every time I finished singing that song.

Yellow Magic Orchestra, Solid State Survivor

The algorithm’s monthly contribution (This time Instagram, after I finally managed to convince it that I wasn’t interested in financial advice, wedding dresses, and praying) brought me back to the land of the Rising Sun. While February’s Casiopea had been pioneers of the jazz fusion movement, we have YMO to thank for picking electronic and even techno out of the future. While the 80s hadn’t quite arrived yet, the synths are definitely the kind you’d hear in an arcade, continuing my theory that any and all Japanese music can be seamlessly inserted into a main menu of a video game. Germany had Kraftwerk, Japan had YMO.

Iggy Pop, The Idiot

Every ghost comes back to haunt us sooner or later and I had a bad night of anxiety earlier this month. When that happens, a classic is needed to ward it off and get the brain back in the game. The Idiot certainly qualifies, and with it being the sister album to my favourite Bowie LP it seemed like a good shout. While I know it in no way it is a good representation of Iggy Pop’s overall career (Having repeatedly listened to Lust For Life as a toddler and made the CD jump as a result of all my bouncing), it is undoubtedly one of the defining moments for post-punk and should be accredited as such.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Tender Prey and The Boatman’s Call

I kind of fell out of love with Nick et al. last year – Other things were piquing my interest. Then me and a colleague at work both gushed over how Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus is a career highlight of the band and before you know it, they’re an itch I wanted to scratch again. I settled on Tender Prey as it was my first instinct that was then affirmed by a random number generator. The tone of this album is very reminiscent of Berlin Trilogy-era Bowie (no doubt helped by it being partially recorded in the same studios), except here the cold claustrophobic atmosphere and feeling of hopelessness is tinged by gothic tidings and the occasional harmonica (Looking at you, Watching Alice). Indeed, that hopelessness is boosted by the multitude of shit that the Seeds were dealing with, top of the pile being Nick and his needles. Read about the making of this album and you’ll understand it’s a minor miracle that Tender Prey even exists. Oh, and The Mercy Seat? It goes on and on, but it’s too awesome in its ragged rawness for you to care.

And then I decided I wanted to kill my joy, or at least suffocate it with another man’s bare-naked emotions. F*ck, The Boatman’s Call is an excellent album. Depressingly beautiful, it lulls you in and keeps you there, Nick holds you tight so he can share the pain in his heart and expel the ghost of PJ Harvey. It’s tough and one must steel themselves when working through all 12 tracks to avoid getting a lump in the throat. But it’s a rewarding experience, and a testament to the Bad Seeds’ ability to effortlessly strip off their dented goth-punk armour when the situation calls for it. What a difference ten years makes (And would make after another decade passed – I nearly went with Dig Lazarus Dig!!! instead. Glad I didn’t frankly).

Arctic Monkeys, The Car

I don’t know why but a mood took me where I wanted to hear latter-day Arctic Monkeys. Verdict? Decent. It proves a band doesn’t need to make loud and proud rock all the time, and they can make music that shows they are growing and maturing if they so wish. Take notes, Sheeran.

The Smiths, The Queen is Dead and Strangeways, Here We Come

I want to like the Smiths, I really do. But there’s something in me that just refuses to click with them, and it’s infuriating quite frankly. I know they’re great, but it’s like I go in expecting them to be great (what with their status as the Gods of indie), and they are just good. The Queen is Dead was a perfectly pleasant listen, and I was more on board with the slightly harsher sound of Strangeways, Here We Come. But God almighty, those growling sounds Morrissey insisted on making in the early tracks on the latter album were like nails on a chalkboard. Maybe I’ll try them both again in the near future and get back to you.

Entry #45 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: March 2025 (a.k.a This is a regular thing now, so naturally I’m posting this three days late)

I’ve been on more familiar ground for the past month, not straying too far from the beaten path as work becomes more intense the closer summer approaches. That familiarity can keep you stable and lord knows music is good at harnessing your emotions in this day and age.

Anyway, I guess that’s me saying in a very wanky sort of way that there are no surprises in my playlist for March 2025:

Radiohead – In Rainbows

Run from it, hide from it, the Radiohead rabbit hole beckons all the same. And yes, I am one of those normies who say that In Rainbows is their favourite album, but do you blame me? I know Jigsaw Falling Into Place has become TikTok cannon fodder, but I still love that song to bits (full thoughts here: https://asideglance.com/2020/09/18/entry-4-jigsaw-falling-into-place-a-k-a-i-accidentally-started-to-like-radiohead/ ). 15 Step is an energetic but traditionally sinister opener, Videotape is a heartwrenching closer, and between them you have some of the band’s finest work like Bodysnatchers and Nude. Can never leave this album alone for too long.

Paul Weller – Heliocentric

Paul has gone on record saying he isn’t too fond of his 2000s output, and I think Heliocentric is a shining example of why. It’s an album that never truly gets going, the first two thirds of the album all coast along at the same mid-tempo pace, and by the time you reach a proper rocker in the form of There Is No Drinking, After You’re Dead, you’ve stopped giving a toss. The singles are fine though – He’s the Keeper is a good track and Sweet Pea, My Sweet Pea is, well, sweet, but that’s about where it ends for me. It’s all so frustratingly restrained. Far from the Modfather’s finest work.

Steven Wilson – The Raven That Refused to Sing (and Other Stories)

I must admit that I found this one through TikTok but it goes to show that once in a while, an algorithm can recommend stuff that isn’t a waste of thought. The title compelled me, the genres of prog rock and jazz fusion brought me in, and I had a good enough time with this album, with its swaying tales of televangelists and watchmakers. I may have to give it another go to fully appreciate it (I was drifting off after a long night of work) but you only get one chance to make a good first impression. This one succeeded.

The Beatles – Let it Be…Naked

I listened to Let It Be for the first time last year. Didn’t hate it, not a bad album. Shame most of the la’s thought differently, thanks to Phil Spector’s wall of sound, which is what led me to put it up against the Naked version that Paul helped put together in 2003. And honestly? I prefer the original. I think the grandiosity of Spector’s version is what made me enjoy the album in the first place. Songs like the title track and Get Back hold up fine without the window dressing, but others like I Me Mine don’t. I get that it was originally meant to be a back-to-basics album, but there is such a thing as too basic. Ain’t broke? Don’t fix it.

The Kinks – Face to Face

If you’re going to listen to the Beatles, you have to give the Kinks the time of day as well. This is another album I stuck on after a stressful day at the office, mainly because I knew it was the one that had Sunny Afternoon on it. Love that song. The rest of the album was excellent too, Party Line, Dandy and Holiday in Waikiki being particular highlights. And apparently, this is just when the Kinks really started getting good. I think Arthur might be a good shout for next month.

MOOON – III

And who said the 60s was dead? I came across this Dutch three-piece when I was looking up who was playing the Cluny in Newcastle, and they are right up my street; psychedelic rock with heavy influences from bands such as the Who and Small Faces? Shut up and take my money! A band so heavily trapped in a time warp could be argued as being unoriginal and playing to nostalgia but MOOON’s charm can easily win you over, if not in their music (available in mono for that authentic 60s touch!), then definitely in their music videos. See below:

The Molotovs – More More More

Speaking of bands who could be accused of drawing too heavily from their influences, the Mod-tinged Molotovs have been eagerly anticipated for ages now and they have finally released their debut single (and it’s this week’s number one on the vinyl charts, happy days!). The bitterness and noise of punk runs through this song’s veins and its anthemic stylings are surely going to turn heads as we inevitably approach the band’s first LP. It’s early days, but they are certainly promising.

Welly – Big in the Suburbs

But this debut LP has just arrived, and has snuck its way into this entry just in time. Welly are an up-and-coming indie band who have brought us an album that is caked in Britishness – The lyrics name dropping supermarkets, types of houses, and larger-than-life characters off the street.; the front cover and merchandise evoking iconography any average motorway hopper/DVLA employee will be familiar with; the vocals of what sounds like the love child of Damon Albarn and Ed Gamble, with his observant eye scanning over modern-day Britain in a manner similar to Parklife and Different Class. Britpop for the Terrible 20s. Just what the doctor ordered.

Oasis – Standing on the Shoulder of Giants

It turned 25 this year. It got re-released with nothing new whatsoever. I listened anyway. And I think some of my opinions have changed since I last spoke about this album during lockdown. Watch this space…