Entry #52 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: October 2025 (a.k.a A Musical Odyssey)

Strap in because I’ve had a very productive month and I’ve listened to a lot of music. It all started fairly innocuously as I accidentally ended up with a theme. Going into October there were three albums I wanted to check out, and they all had one thing in common:

They were all released in 2001.

If you were around for that year, you may have significant memories of it. Me personally, I was coming out of my time as a toddler so my memories are rather thin on the ground. All I’ve got of that time period off the top of my head are the following:

  • Being given a new green coat.
  • Getting scared shitless by the fireworks at a bonfire and leaving after five minutes.
  • Tasting gaming for the first time by playing Mario Kart 64 and GoldenEye 007.
  • Bouncing about in my grandparents’ garden to the music from this particular compilation album:

Highlight for little me was “Crosstown Traffic” by Jimi Hendrix.

Anyway, for whatever reason I’ve found myself being drawn to albums from 2001 specifically, mostly from old favourites and ones I’ve been paying more and more attention to recently. And maybe because it was a turning point of a year. The new millennium was officially underway and everything suddenly seemed very futuristic. Not only that, but for a person with my music tastes the 2000s may have seemed like a last gasp for the generation of British rock the 90s bore. Hell, look at the big names of Britpop alone:

  • Oasis: Released Heathen Chemistry, arguably their worst album.
  • Suede: Released A New Morning, indisputably their worst album. Went on hiatus not long afterwards.
  • Pulp: Left their label and went on hiatus too.
  • Blur: Ditto after Graham Coxon went MIA and Think Tank came out.
  • Elastica: Died on its arse without much fanfare.
  • Richard Ashcroft: Released Human Conditions, got raked over the coals for it, and disappeared for a few years.
  • The Divine Comedy: Split after Regeneration underperformed.

Things were changing. The world was moving on, evolving into something new. I want to see if a certain few were hedging their bets or staying the course, starting with those aforementioned three albums.

So, 2001. Whaddya got?

Manic Street Preachers, Know Your Enemy

We find the Manics at a crossroads in their journey. Not as big as their songwriter disappearing off the face of the Earth of course, but here they were once again questioning their identity. They didn’t feel like the same band they were when Richey was still around, having gone more mainstream with the almighty Everything Must Go and the serviceable This is My Truth Tell Me Yours. As they entered the 2000s, it seems they felt they needed to reclaim their identity as the loudest voices on the far left of the room. That much was obvious before Know Your Enemy was even finished, with the standalone single “The Masses Against the Classes” signalling their return to simpler, noisier, practically punky rock. However, that led me to two questions before pressing play on Know Your Enemy:

  1. Can they still pull it off almost a decade later?
  2. Can these songs justify an LP that lasts over an hour? (instinct immediately tells me no, it would’ve been better off as a two album effort a la the 2022 reissue)

Opening track “Found That Soul” is an interesting case study if you’re trying to work out how to answer question one. On the one hand, it’s got the ferocity which Holy Bible fans will have sorely missed, and on the surface it’s much less squeaky clean on the production front. However, the latter is too much of an overreaction and overcorrection – The buzziness of the guitars smothers this track and sets the tone for how poor some of the mixing on this album is. That being said, MVP of the MSPs has to be Sean Moore on drums when you can hear him, he’s got some rapid as f*ck beats to maintain.

And to answer the second question, I’m afraid my instinct was right. The sound of punk should be as authentic as they come, yet a lot of this sounds so blatantly half-baked and manufactured – from the head, not the heart. Ironically, the standout tracks are the quietest, namely “Ocean Spray”, “Let Robeson Sing”, and you know what I’ll chuck “Epicentre” in there aswell. Trouble is, they sound like they should be on a different album altogether, removed from plodders like “Dead Martyrs” and misfires like “Wattsville Blues”. The band were no longer as real as they once thought themselves. This album was the first real reminder that the Manics were sans their most important Preacher.

Schizophrenic would be the best way to describe Know Your Enemy. The Manic Street Preachers were spending too much time trying to juggle their past and present sounds that they neglected to look ahead to the future and set in stone their new sound. The pacing and flow suffers as a result, and I spent much of the second half of this record asking ‘Is it nearly over yet?’. I’ll try the reissue at some point, see if it corrects some of the issues I had with this album but if truth be told, I’m not optimistic.

Björk, Vespertine

Post and Homogenic have both been marvels, and Vespertine is often regarded as another home run for Björk. Oddly I thought I might be going into this one a bit too early, as some people call it a ‘cold’ album best heard during the winter. So, I waited for a spell of mild weather to pass and for the sun to retreat behind the clouds, and once both those things happened I decided that was patience enough.

This is the scene that was steadily drawn up in my mind the further into Vespertine I delved: It felt like I had been compelled to journey through a blizzard in a tundra, to seek shelter in a giant cave, only to once inside meet this bizarre yet endearing person who in turn feels compelled to sing these songs over a campfire to you and you alone. Everything bounces off the vacuous walls and before you know it you feel like you’re sinking into the icy floor a la Renton in Trainspotting.

Every track blossoms from their opening beat onwards. Indeed, one of the album’s oft-touted strengths is its ‘microbeats’ which lay down the foundations for each song, each one sounds unique and immediately keeps everything individual. And if it ain’t sampled sounds of cracking ice or shuffling cards, then it’s music box…never thought I’d hear that on an album, let alone praise the use of it. Alas it’s the sprinkling of sugar on the Vespertine cake, particularly on the luscious “Harm Of Will”, as the end coda for “It’s Not Up To You”, and what I funnily enough consider the coldest track of all, “Frosti”. Artsy without the fartsy. I like it.

Quick note about the lyrics too. The shy lady from the front cover of Debut is but a memory. Here we have Björk openly let her lovelife do the talking, culminating in the mantra of ‘I love him’ for the closing minute or so of “Pagan Poetry”. That’s not to say she’s gone soft though, perish the thought! The sinister side of her writing makes itself known with the eerie “An Echo, a Stain”. ‘Don’t say no to me/You can’t say no to me’. Just in time for Halloween.

It’s a natural progression from Homogenic – Continuing the minimalist electronica in contrast to Post (nowt wrong with that though), trying something new in using the most atypical of objects as instruments, creepily engaging all the while, and majestically elevated by the flourishes of strings that appear throughout. The difference between this album and the last however, is that while there is something a wee bit hostile about Homogenic, Vespertine welcomes you with open arms. This is one of the most beautiful records I’ve ever heard.

Radiohead, Amnesiac

Kid A is the best Radiohead album (favourite is In Rainbows), so Amnesiac had some big shoes to fill. Unfortunately, as it’s for all intents and purposes a leftovers albums from the Kid A sessions, the two were inevitably going to be compared and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t assume Amnesiac wasn’t going to hold a candle to its predecessor.

Opener “Packt Like Sardines…” didn’t help matters, it immediately sounds like a case of ‘Let’s pick up where we left off’. Nothing striking about it and it feels like we’re stuck in a loop before the album really begins with “Pyramid Song”. Now, that. That always has and always will be a top five Radiohead song for me.

As for the rest? I know it doesn’t get a lot of love but “Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors” has a dystopian club vibe, like Y2K has corrupted the speakers and the DJ himself, and I rather liked it for that. Similarly, “You And Whose Army?” and “Life in a Glasshouse” feel like they should be sung in a lounge in an underground bunker during a blitzkrieg of nukes. “Knives Out” is a brilliant single, and “Dollars and Cents” struck a chord with how appropriate it is a quarter century on. “Hunting Bears” is no “Treefingers” though.

The tracks aren’t knitted together as well as those on Kid A, again owing to those ‘leftovers’ vibes, and it can come across as something of a compilation album. But that’s picking tiny nits, frankly. With the exception of the false start that is “Packt…”, I had a hell of a time with Amnesiac. It’s a touch more lavish and polished, and it feels as if Radiohead have one eye poking out from the shells they retreated into post-OK Computer. Just about ready to rejoin society upon the calling of the siren. I’m half tempted to do a full-blown entry on this album when I inevitably revisit it…

We’ll continue our look back to 2001 in a mo but first, some of October’s releases that I’ve been anticipating.

Tame Impala, Deadbeat

Most of the grief this album was getting before it was even released was down to the change in genre, with Kevin transitioning from psych pop to EDM. But I myself have been allowing more electronic stuff into my listening life lately, like Björk and Boards of Canada* so I wanted to judge Deadbeat on that merit as opposed to being the newest Tame Impala album. And here’s what I’ve come away thinking:

Musically? Fine, nothing special. I still maintain my opinion that a lot of the music sounds visibly stitched together, and the one-man project aspect of Tame Impala is all the more apparent for it.

Vocally? Decent. If there’s one thing Kevin has gotten better at as time’s gone on, it’s that.

Lyrically? Erm…insipid?

The ‘woe is me’ tone gets grating by track three, and I know I’ve gone on to like records in the same vein like This is Hardcore and Standing on the Shoulder of Giants. The difference is they lamented their mistakes and mid-life crises, whereas this album just feels like an hour-long moan. There’s also some questionable and downright lazy attempts at songwriting. I mean, ‘You’re a cinephile, I watch Family Guy’. Come on. If we stick on this pathway, we’re probably going to have verses referencing ‘6-7’ and ‘Skibidi Toilet’. Maybe an instrumental album next would be the best course of action.

All that being said, I’ve come around a little bit to “Loser” since last time, it sounds better as part of the journey. Same with “Dracula”, that one’s alright. And “Ethereal Connection”’s thumping beat gave me Underworld vibes, shame nothing else about the track managed to compliment it. Otherwise? Miss.

By the way, I would not recommend looking at online discourse, especially not in Tame Impala fan circles, for reasons you can see below. Listen to the album then form your opinion, please and thank you.

*I listened to Music Has the Right to Children the night before my birthday, but just as background noise which is why I don’t have anything to say about it beyond the words ‘great’ and ‘fascinating’.

Richard Ashcroft, Lovin’ You

I didn’t really want to listen to this next one but after last month I’m trying my damndest to have an open mind, so…Geronimo, I guess.

I made my feelings on lead single “Lover” pretty clear when it came out. I have a vague recollection of trying the second single aswell but I don’t think I bothered listening past the first minute as it was just more of the same. Regardless of that though, I did promise myself to try the album when it came out, as I told myself that it could just surprise me.

Initially as “Lover” began again I felt like I’d softened up; the opening beats and synth strings have some Verve-ian DNA in there. Then Richard shouted ‘Yeah’ and started singing and I remembered why I hated this so much. I thought the next track, “Out Of These Blues”, was going to be a repeat as it started so well but this time Ashcroft held up his end of the bargain and turned in some alright lyrics, although the country-stylings was a wee bit strange. And I have to admit, “Heavy News” rocked with a neat little guitar solo. But that’s where the good times came to an end. “Oh L’Amour” was boring. “I’m A Rebel”…f*ck me, that song is a crime against God. I actually found it so excruciating that I skipped it halfway, only to end up with another borefest in “Find Another Reason” and I’m sorry but I checked out at that point.

 It should be no surprise what he’s singing about on this album – a drinking game for every time he says ‘Love’ or some variation could seriously rival Withnail & I’s in terms of how bloody lethal they both would be. We get it, mate. You love Kate. Good for you. At times I get the impression Richard wants to hang with the pop stars of today, be the Ed Sheeran for the aged Generation X-ers, but I doubt even they would touch some of the stuff Richard serves on this album. Except “Heavy News”, but one song doth not an album make.

OK, that was unpleasant, how about an album from an artist who I’ve never ever listened to before that’s all about divorce?!

Lily Allen, West End Girl

Autofiction or no, I feel like I’m eavesdropping, guilty of voyeur almost as Lily spills the beans on how her marriage went up in smoke. But she is damn intent on making you hear every little detail, as she runs unrestrained the gamut of anger and sadness in a cathartic marathon. And the tale told all the while? The oceans between our narrator and their other half, the mystery of Madeline, wandering through the stages of grief into open relationships? I genuinely would not be surprised if this album is translated onto the stage; a 45 minute play with the main character miming to each song and featuring some lightning fast changes in scenery. Or a Netflix original series, seeing as they’re all the rage now (plus the irony would be delicious considering who the songs are about).

That might be because Lily has painted an album that is as visual as it is visceral. The gunshot sound effects in “Madeline”? Oof. Stating the need to be numb in “Relapse”? Double oof. My only real criticism of this album is the overuse of autotune. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, in fact I think it’s used to good effect in “Relapse” to convey the headspinning caused by the revelations, but it is a detractor elsewhere. If Lily’s meant to be baring her innermost and delivering such raw lyrics, then they shouldn’t be hidden away, made to sound so artificial.

Still, cracking record, but unfortunately it may soon drown and be consigned to a watery grave, weighed down by the various tabloids and chip wrappers as they watch Lily and David Harbour’s every move. Then again, we can hope that Lily airing the dirty laundry so vividly will satiate the rags enough, until the inevitable lawsuit and we’ll start the cycle again with 24-hour coverage. We are nothing if not a fickle species.

(Oh shut up, Ollie, put away your soapbox and say you enjoyed the album.)

I enjoyed the album. Will check out Lily’s older stuff one day.

Let’s liven things up. TikTok has been rather good to me this month and has allowed me to discover some budding artists who absolutely deserve the time of day. And for most of them, I feel this is the appropriate reaction to their tunes:

Testaments, “The Clown”

This is a first. I’m talking about a band that has yet to release a debut album or even an EP. All we have of Testaments is three singles (edit: they released number four while I was typing this up). Out of them, I went for the most recent, that being “The Clown”.

One word. Vocals. At first you might not blink twice but then singer Rebecka lulls you in and gives a commanding performance. There’s the wobble in the voice early on as if tears are being choked back, and those stutters in the second half of the song are damn near enough to make Scatman John rise from the dead and applaud. The band are well and truly in the background though, with Rebecka sounding as if she’s standing under a spotlight in a dusty old theatre. But again. Vocals. They stand out naked and elevate the emotion behind the lyrics as a result.

Unwind Project, Lovers on the Edge of Tomorrow

If you can’t tell, I’m back on the jazz fusion train. I find something comforting in the loneliness and melancholy of jazz, and hearing it fused with hip hop and synths is just sublime. In media like Fallout, you get the 1950s refitted for the future. This to me feels more like the 1940s, sitting in a refitted smoky jazz club or being stuck behind a desk reviewing the same murder case notes. Either way, it very nicely captures the atmosphere of a lonely evening. Good to drink to, good to dance to, good to mourn to. My only real complaint is the structuring of the playlist – There’s the curiosity of having the only track with vocals slap bang in the middle, and then capping the album off by playing it again sans vocals. Saying that, I did end up wishing that the album was longer than 23 minutes so I should just take what I can get.

Yndling, “It’s Almost Like You’re Here”

Shoegaze, dream pop, trippy, hooky, swirly yet fuzzy guitar riff. That’s a lot of boxes for one song to tick but alas Yndling do just that.

They’ve got a new album out in November, one they have said will takes inspiration from acts like Mazzy Star, Portishead, Massive Attack and Cocetau Twins. All of that means I’ll be writing about it in the next monthly, and they’ll be on tour soon in support of its release so go see them if you can.

Back to 2001, now.

The Strokes, Is This It

Some say this is it. The indie album of the 2000s, possibly even the album of the 2000s full stop. Unfortunately, that means it’s on the backfoot straight away for me because I’ve got to go into it with high expectations, wanting nothing more than the trailblazer it’s hyped up to be.

Or I could just go in expecting some good ol’ fashioned indie, you know? And that’s exactly what I got.

This feels like the kind of sound the La’s were chasing when they were making their own album – Raw, with no extra frills needed. Immediately, it’s obvious that Is This It was recorded ‘as live’ as it sounds like it’s straight from the garage to the disc with nothing fancy added on top. Almost as if you’re watching the band at a gig. Just as Mavers intended.

Expectations be damned, this album isn’t quite a trailblazer. It’s a blueprint. Other indie bands would continue to arrive and spark the movement that would follow across the 2000s, adding and changing details to spice things up like heavier guitar riffs, extra instruments, and deeper lyrics. But the Strokes definitely set the bar high for them to cross. One of the most easy-listening experiences you can ever hope to have.

Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

This month, Paste Magazine have been posting bit by bit what they consider to be the top 250 albums of the 21st century so far. Vespertine made it into the top ten, but it was this album that achieved pole position. And…I’d never heard of this band nor this record. Have I had my head in the sand, or is this an outside choice for an outside choice’s sake? Mind you, saying that, I shouldn’t go into it expecting to hear the best album ever made, that would be unfair. Then again, if the Strokes can match their reputations, why can’t Wilco?

I suppose what helps this rating is that it’s indie-with-a-dash-of-Radiohead. Stone cold clangy pianos? Feedback loops and static? Malaise and dread here and there? A bit of Ctrl+C from OK Computer, methinks. Regardless, I like me a bit of art rock and Wilco are clearly on fine form throughout this album. While the pacing is a little slower, it’s not enough to lose my attention. They also seemed to be setting some trends up themselves – I can’t put my finger on it at the moment but I’m sure I’ve heard another band or three use similar chord progressions and noises heard in “Ashes of American Flags”.

And if you’ll allow me to put on the tin foil hat for a minute, but this album more than any that I’ve written about in this entry has shown the changing times music was facing at the time. Let’s not beat around the Bush (if you’ll forgive the pun), the events of 9/11 meant music would take a sharp left turn with artists galore letting it mould and shape their tunes for the next few years as geopolitically, everything seemed to spiral. A dark cloud of foreboding seemed to loom large, and Wilco managed to forecast that cloud with the three track stretch of “War on War”, “Jesus, Etc.” and “Ashes of American Flags”. There’s also the small fact that this album was originally due for release on September 11th. Speaking of, bonus points for essentially selling the album for twice as much and laying the foundations for streaming. Check out the full story when you’ve got a mo.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the right record at the right time. And while I do think that elevated its praise at the time massively, ergo leading to its status as best album of this century so far according to Paste, that shouldn’t detract from this album’s effortless ability to stand on its own two feet.

Prince, The Rainbow Children

I have never listened to Prince so you might expect me to start with a classic like Purple Rain or Sign o’ the Times. Yet for whatever reason I was drawn to this one first. Maybe it was the fact it had Rainbow in the title. Maybe because it boasted some more jazz fusion for me to dive into. Maybe it was a bit of bile fascination as this was Prince’s ‘I’m a Jehovah’s Witness now’ album.

I’m not a religious guy. I have an ear for spiritualism, hence I’ve enjoyed George Harrison’s early solo output. If it’s used as a tool to make music instead of being the subject matter, lest the record serve up a severe case of throat-cram, then I’m fine with it.

So imagine how far my eyes rolled when I pressed play on the title track and I was greeted with the words ‘The wise one in subjection to God/Forever is in subjection to God’. Oh bloody hell, have I accidentally taken my first foray into Christian rock? Am I about to be indoctrinated by f*cking Prince?! I don’t feel compelled to immediately stop because of the jazzy undertones – That bassline is blooming alluring. Then again, there’s a lot trying to drive me away, namely the spoken word sections with a pitch-shift that make Barry White sound like Joe Pasquale. Worse still is that this rears its head constantly, namely on “Digital Garden” which is an otherwise fine wine of a track. By track six, I couldn’t stop myself from going ‘Oh piss off’.

“Muse 2 the Pharoah” established that we were going to delve into the religions of Ancient Egypt so that reassured me a little that this album wasn’t going to be an advert for Jehovahs. But it is clearly at the forefront of Prince’s mind and he’s letting it guide him rather than he’s guiding it to create a good album, again going back to my preference of using it as a tool. On the other hand, he still has his lyrics about sex to fall back on, and is one of the reasons why “Mellow” is a personal highlight.

I can imagine that this isn’t a very popular Prince album among his faithful, it’s quite slow and not a lot of ‘danceable’ material is provided, bar “Everywhere” which is superb. But as a newbie who’s been enjoying his jazz lately, I mostly liked the tunes when I wasn’t really paying attention to what Prince was saying. Now that I type that though, I feel like I’m doing him a disservice considering how much of a talented vocalist he was. All the same, I don’t think this will be an album I will revisit. Probably should have gone for Purple Rain.

Before we conclude this particular monthly (And not a moment too soon either because Christ this has been a long one. If you’re still reading, I deeply appreciate it) I can’t forget a promise I made last time around – I said that I would listen to a Taylor Swift album. And hey, she actually released an album this month so logic could’ve dictated that I try that one.

But if our dear old friend the Internet is anything to go by, that would’ve been a terrible idea.

Bastardising Shakespeare (again) and rising to non-existent bait from Charli XCX would’ve been bad enough, but I also read some lyrics and holy shit, this woman has most definitely started believing she is God’s gift to music. Look at this:

‘You made a deal with the devil, turns out my dick’s bigger’

‘Did you girl-boss too close to the sun?’ (Oh my, the irony…)

‘Please, God, bring me a best friend who I think is hot’

‘He dick-matised me and opened my eyes’

Mr. Parker, I apologise, you are absolutely entitled to your Family Guy binges.

Life of a Showgirl will be Be Here Now’ed. There are some people who will swear by it, call it fun and misjudged, and that’s fine, good on them for finding enjoyment in this album (or clinging to denial like a moth to a flame, one of the two). But come the inevitable next record, this one will either be forgotten or remembered as ‘the shit one’, the one that killed her momentum.

So yeah, I’m in no mood for Taylor now. But you know what? There is someone I’ve been playing on the radio lately, a big-time female popstar who I will admit I was turned off by how overplayed they were when they debuted. Now? They have my attention.

Sabrina Carpenter, Man’s Best Friend

I’m seeing some parallels between Sabrina and Pulp. Both riding the waves of fame with witty, sexually suggestive lyrics, both doing so whilst signed to Island, and both with an album cover that got lambasted for being sexist and demeaning. The more things change…

But let’s keep the two apart otherwise I won’t end up giving her a fair shake.

First things first, the song that drove me to the album in the first place was “Tears”. Taking the piss and saying that a bloke simply showing a little common decency is enough to give you the horn? Brilliant, I’m on board. Love the overall Eurodisco sound of the record, especially “Nobody’s Sound” and those synths on “Manchild”. The country inflections are fine too, but I’m glad it doesn’t take the forefront as it’s not exactly my go-to genre.

It is very linear though, the songs are all about the same thing, guided by breakups and/or arousal. Then again, it’s a pop album, should I be surprised? No. Besides, Sabrina certainly has an intricate way of putting things. The songwriting overall is great, maybe a little overly crass at times and not every line is a home run (See “When Did You Get Hot?” and speculating about the size of Zeus’ cock). However, it’s all tongue-in-cheek and not designed to be taken too seriously. That being said, given how explicit Sabrina can get at times, I can imagine she’ll turn in her own West End Girl some time down the line should any future husband be dumb enough to cross her. “Sugar Talking” is a sure indicator of that.

The difference between Sabrina and Taylor is that one is doing it for the love of the game, and the other is just good at playing the game. One of them is trying their hardest and having fun, the other’s addicted to making money which she can get from fans at the drop of a hat. One’s being delightfully droll about their sexual appetite, the other’s insightfulness on the subject only goes as far ‘Haha, dicks and Redwood trees, isn’t my fiancée well hung?!’. Sabrina has her entire career ahead of her still, Taylor’s can coast along on the bare minimum. With all that in mind, I think I know who I’d rather pay attention to. Don’t you?

Entry #51 – What I’ve Been Listening To Lately: August and September 2025 (a.k.a Hold your nose, take the plunge…)

If you’re not aware, I work at a radio station called Spark Sunderland and have done for some years ever since I was in the middle of my undergrad in 2019. Right now, I do a show called Beautiful Ones, broadcasting an hour of Britpop every Saturday midday, but as of late I’ve also found myself presenting the Tuesday Breakfast show. This was while some of the staff, being uni students themselves, had gone back home for the summer hols.

And it’s an unusual situation for me. See, I’ve made it clear over the years here on A-Side Glance that my tastes in music do not correlate with today’s mainstream – Britpop, alt rock, Japanese acid jazz, goth gospel? Yeah, the chances of that lot even making it into the nosebleeds of the charts is slim to none. However, I do try to pride myself on being an open-minded guy; I’ll try anything once. And besides, the three hours of songs that have been playlisted haven’t been catered to me, they have been catered to the audience (One of the golden rules of radio is not to make the show ‘Me, me, me’, it should be ‘You, you, you’).

In any case, I want to start this entry by documenting some of the singles that I have truly enjoyed playing on Tuesday mornings these past couple of months:

Lewis Capaldi, Survive

I think I can be forgiven for liking Lewis Capaldi based on personality alone; he’s funny and he’s genuine. Good combination. But musically? He has veered dangerously close to Ed Sheeran levels of oversaturated, particularly when his debut album was released (I can tolerate Hold Me While You Wait, but in small doses). Yet for whatever reason I was watching his ill-fated Glastonbury performance back in 2023, which ultimately spawned this single.

And my God, what a comeback. The man takes his personal issues, grabs them by the collar and loudly belts out that he is going to bloody well live. Great performance. Feel free to put it on repeat, it’s still guaranteed to hit you in the feels no matter how much you prepare for it.

Blossoms, Perfect Me

An ode to the perfectionist, and all the doubts and needless desires of today’s society in its judgemental wisdom? I can wholeheartedly get behind this song, especially as it fires on all cylinders. It’s one of those ones that you just can’t help but dance to, or at the very least tap your knee and click your fingers. The production is also done by James Skelly of the Coral, one of the most underrated bands from the crop of 2000s indie bloomers, and you can tell in the song’s jauntiness (reminiscent of songs like Bill McCai and In The Morning).

On the cusp of cheesy but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It sounds like a lot of fun was had making this record and I mean actual fun, not just painted smiles for the behind-the-scenes TikToks. I need to give Gary a look, it’s only half an hour after all.

Chappell Roan, The Subway

From what I’ve seen, there have been attempts to demonise Chappell Roan ever since she hit the big time, which I think is unfair – If she can back up her attitude with her songs without taking it to the point that she clearly enjoys the smell of her own farts, then fine. So far, I’d say she’s doing a good job. In fact, HOT TO GO! was something of a guilty pleasure of mine last year – It was catchy but didn’t want to make me get it out of my head by carving out my brain. The right kind of pop song.

Now this is being treated as the next best thing by Chappell and while HOT TO GO! is a cherry fun bop, The Subway is a much more well-rounded and fleshed out single. The vocals are superb, the dream pop vibes are especially my cup of tea and, like with Blossoms, fun is clearly being had here. Chappell is a born performer, and she assumes the role of the spurned lover haunted by the one that got away with ease. I can see why it’s a live favourite.

Also, the lyric “Well f*ck this, I’m moving to Saskatchewan”. Out of context, that is bloody hilarious. I want to use that in everyday conversation now.

Of course, on the flip side there have been these ones that I have had to play with gritted teeth:

Huntr/X et al., Golden

I cannot stand that falsetto, I swear cracks appear in the windows every time it gets played.

Justin Bieber, DAISIES

I grew up during a time when Baby was never off the radio, his name was used as a category for the lamer-than-lame on the video game Happy Wheels, and he couldn’t go five minutes without appearing in an orange prison jumpsuit. I am conditioned to hate Justin Bieber.

Alex Warren, Eternity

Seems like a nice bloke. Song just meanders, cut from the same cloth as Ordinary. Todd in the Shadows sums up the latter, and by extension Alex, better than I ever could:

Benson Boone, Beautiful Things

The modern day Song 2. Run from it, hide from it, it will always find you.

And then there was this…

Tame Impala, Loser

Oh dear me, is the sun setting on Tame Impala?

This song was better than End of Summer, but that doesn’t really say much. Indeed, Kevin Parker isn’t really saying much either. If you can’t decorate the song in interesting lyrics, then you can least spruce it up with some good melodies. Unfortunately, the psych pop has been replaced with a suitably grey house tune to fit the aesthetic of the upcoming album. Now more than ever, Tame Impala sounds like one bloke working alone to create music. McCartney and Foo Fighters gave the impression there was a whole band at work. Loser doesn’t.

I get that artists will want to re-invent themselves after a period of time. It’s natural to try new things. But this? This ain’t it. It’s an anti-passion project, ironic for a perfectionist like Kevin who I fear is about to release his Second Coming. Shame too, I was looking forward to it.

Yeah, I think a palette cleanser is in order after that lot. Here’s a song that I had on repeat for a spell:

David Bowie, Slow Burn

A few years ago on the radio, I trialled a feature called the Fine Wine List – Songs that have aged remarkably well as time goes on. I remember picking a David Bowie song then, 1997’s I’m Afraid of Americans. Felt it summed up the mood quite nicely post-January 6th. Then a few years later he goes and makes a song, nay an album, that is aging even more gracefully (not least because the art rock genre is more prolific now than industrial drum and bass).

Trust Bowie to come up with a song that exudes the depression and dread wrapped around the world today, and this was made in 2002! Dystopia creeps ever closer towards us. A slow burn indeed.

Now those are just singles. I figure it might be an idea to try and listen to an album by a modern day favourite. I’m sick of being an old man yelling at the clouds frankly, trying to get people to understand why they should listen to Pulp and Welly and what have you. I want to put myself on the other side of the playing field, I want to catch what’s being thrown and see if I can understand the appeal. (Saying that, as I scan the charts to see who may be worth having a look over, I see Radiohead are just about in the top 100 with Creep and Let Down?! Blimey, TikTok, threaten me with a good time why don’t you?).

With that in mind, I’ve booted up a random generator designed to pull out a famous band or artist, let’s see what I end up with.

Maroon 5

F*ck off, not happening.

JVKE

Who?

And do I pronounce it as Jake or Juke?

Stray Kids

I am not doing k-pop.

Huntr/X

…

Ed Sheeran

He’s changed a fair bit since I last saw him.

This was honest to goodness the picture the RNG used.

Laufey

Again, who?

You know what, I’ll come back to this in a bit, here are a few albums that I have sat down to listen to recently:

Suede, Antidepressants

I did not like this on first listen. Autofiction was the best album Suede have released since the 90s, so Antidepressants had a lot to live to. Yet, the production seemed lacking, the singles had left me feeling colder than warmer, I called Criminal Ways the modern day equivalent of Elephant Man. To dismiss a Suede album did not sit right with me. I mean, I know I’ve done that in the past with A New Morning, but this time I was in complete denial against myself. There was clearly something I was missing.

So I stopped. I concentrated. I didn’t necessarily force myself to like it, but appreciate it.

The ferocity of Autofiction is most definitely still present, it’s just being thrown at us from a different angle. Previously, I’d believed that things don’t truly get going until The Sound and the Summer but it’s really the title track where Suede start running and never look back. Brett’s showing no signs of age catching up to his voice. In fact, Life Is Endless, Life Is A Moment is one of his best performances ever. And production-wise? I still do feel like some tracks would sound better live than recorded, but Ed Buller is still working his magic and knitting the playlist together that you barely notice that we’re on a new song, particularly in the latter half.

It’s a very 2020s album, built upon the alienation which plagues a modern day human race suffocating under AI and infighting. It’s a bit of a risk for fifty-somethings like Suede to address a millennial/Gen Z problem but they manage to get away with it. Besides, in some ways, it’s their problem too and there’s not many bands around right now that can fully address it. As time goes on, I may appreciate Antidepressants more but for now? I don’t mind it. I’ll be sure to try it again soon.

Brett’s also gone on record saying that this is the middle part of a ‘black and white’ album trilogy, and that we can expect part three before the 2020s wrap up (Can only come too soon…). So we’ve had punk in Autofiction, we’ve had post-punk in Antidepressants. What comes third? Industrial metal? Suede meets Linkin Park? Time will tell.

Barbara, Barbara

This was released the same day as Antidepressants and I ended up preferring this, though to be honest that might be because the former had nine other Suede albums to be weighed up against, whereas this is Barbara’s debut.

I might have been disparaging of Paul McCartney’s constant forays into music hall when covering the Beatles, but here we have it weaved with the theatricality and wit of Neil Hannon (Someone they have had the pleasure of supporting, plus Paul Weller. If they like Barbara, then these chaps are clearly doing something right).

However, don’t write them off as a lovechild of the Divine Comedy at first glance. For a start, we have some ABBA in there, exhibit A being Master Narrative’s keyboards and xylophones. Here we have a band that sit side-by-side with Welly as they cast their eye over modern society, culture and politics, scrutinising the lot sitting in a wingback with a glass of sherry. Oh, and I have to mention that outro on A Perishing of Cherished Things. Mm-mm, that’s good eatin’.

Nostalgia is a reliable and overused tool, and I’ll be the first to admit that I indulge in it a little too much. But Barbara’s throwback sound is just too cosy to pass up. Stick it on your record player and have a little dance in your living room.

Björk, Post

After finding this in a record shop in the Old Town in Hastings, I knew this was going to be the logical next step in getting my head around Björk. Compared to Homogenic, it’s got a lot more flavour to it. Whilst both albums have an unsettling atmosphere, this one balances it by blending pop with a myriad of other genres – Jazz, dance, trip hop, it’s all here. It’s rare to find an album that sounds so 90s and yet so timeless.

All that being said, It’s Oh So Quiet was certainly a choice. It sticks out like a priest at a drag show, and I can understand Björk’s frustration at a cover being one of her most popular songs, from an album that does wonders to showcase her talents. Still, that was kind of the point, given that the LP itself was designed to be full of dizzying turns.

As for Björk herself? Bloody excellent. Her vocals are captivating; off-beat, off-kilter, you have no choice but to be drawn in and you are very much rewarded for doing so. Arguably, all eleven tracks are proof positive of this but my choices for standouts are Army of Me, Possibly Maybe and I Miss You.

Thoroughly enjoyed this, and I know I’ll be listening to it again and again before long.

Now, as for a modern day album…?

No, you know what, I can’t bring myself to do it right now. I could cheese it by just looking at Gary or People Watching, which I’m safely guessing I will like. But I want to take a risk with someone who I usually wouldn’t give a moment’s thought.

Next time, I’m going to hold my feet to the fire. I will listen to a Taylor Swift album. This can only end well…

For the record, I do keep a playlist on Spotify which I sporadically update whenever I hear or play a song that makes me think ‘Huh. The music industry ain’t quite sterilised yet it seems’. Or if I find a song from days past that I typically wouldn’t listen to. It’s just below. See you in October.

Entry #50 – Standing on the Shoulder of Giants – Revisited, re-evaluated, and rebuilt (a.k.a Coming full circle)

Well, well. Exactly five years since the first real entry, I’m back where it all began – reviewing Standing on the Shoulder of Giants. The black sheep of Oasis albums, the one that is as marmite as they come, and the one that I actually have tried to re-review twice since the initial entry.

I actually wanted to put something like this out last year but I never really bothered to finish it. Before that, I wanted to try and look at the b-sides but didn’t get very far with that either. I am nothing if not a stop-starter. So why am I bothering to do it again? Well, you see, in the intervening years I did some soul searching and came to the conclusion that SOTSOG is my favourite Oasis album. I want to see if that is still the case, as lately Dig Out Your Soul has been calling my name aswell, what with it presenting a more refined and mature look at the psychedelic approach that Oasis initially pursued in the year 2000. Plus, now seems like the most appropriate time, what with it being 25 years since the album was released. How did the band celebrate the occasion? By putting it out note for note the same on a tacky silver vinyl, and sprucing up the music vids with AI. Whoop-de-doo. Oh well, at least the tour seems to be going mostly well, ticket pricing and deaths of fans not withstanding.

So here’s how this one is going to work: We’re going to go track by track again, looking through all ten songs that appear on the final album, because my opinions have certainly changed on some of them since lockdown. Once we’ve done that, we’re going to change it up, make the 2025 release that should have been by taking a swatch at the b-sides, and weighing in on which tracks, if any, should have been replaced.

So with this obligatory Doctor Who meme…

…let’s do this.

Track #1 – F*ckin’ in the Bushes

There’s a wrestler called Nigel McGuinness. Last year, he made a surprise appearance at a packed Wembley stadium. He came out to this. The roof came unglued. Oasis songs will do that to ya.

There’s no better song for a walk on, ergo there is no better way to kick off this album (Although I do think the voice samples are overused a tad, but let’s not be pedantic, this is supposed to be my favourite Oasis album for crying out loud).

Track #2 – Go Let It Out

Favourite Oasis song. No debate needed, no arguments necessary.

Everything about this scratches any itch on the brain – Lyrics, Strawberry Fields mellotron, Liam’s vocals, the damned whistle before the final chorus kicks in. I love it. Always have, always will.

Track #3 – Who Feels Love?

I still maintain that overall that this is the weakest single out of the bunch for SOTSOG, it’s just a little too plodding and sleepy for the radio. On its own though? I’ve come around to it a fair bit since last time. Yeah, it’s for all intents and purposes a George Harrison pastiche, and it is the first dose of fuel for the common criticism that this album’s lyrics are less than stellar compared to what came before. But at the same time, it’s the first true indicator that you are listening to a different Oasis, a band who are honest to God trying something new after nearly a decade. And if you wade your way through Definitely Maybe, Morning Glory, Be Here Now, The Masterplan, then end up here? It is such a breath of fresh air, and that is exactly what this song is meant to be. Fresh. Leave your woes behind you.

That being said, while Who Feels Love? is fine in the studio, it truly comes to life when played live. Case in point: Yokohama 2000, and Maida Vale.

Who Feels Love? at 7:11
Who Feels Love? at 11:13

Track #4 – Put Yer Money Where Yer Mouth Is

Part of the reason why Standing on the Shoulder of Giants wasn’t going to please everyone was the fact that it was being made for Oasis fans by an Oasis who had just woken up with a stonking headache. They (read: Noel) weren’t necessarily in the mood for making the uptempo rockers they had built their reputation on, which is why a lot of the songs from these sessions are slower and more contemplative. But they knew they had to give out something to please those expecting from of the usual bite and swagger, so something had to be churned out. Hence, Put Yer Money Where Yer Mouth Is.

Ironically though, its repetitive lyrics and stumbly musicianship work in its favour – This is the comedown album, the hangover, so it’s fitting that one of the rare times Oasis try to put up a tough front sounds unconvincing and almost laughable. I know that probably sounds like I’m trying to paint SOTSOG as a concept album when it absolutely isn’t, but it does make me wonder if it might just be worth keeping on a revised tracklist…

I’ll make my mind up by the end.

Track #5 – Little James

I remember a couple of years ago, my best mate came up from Sheffield, we met up in the pub for drinks and after a while we found ourselves talking about Oasis. And I don’t know if it was the influence of the alcohol or what, but I found myself defending Little James.

I made the bold claim that it was in the same vein as Ringo’s childish Beatles songs like Yellow Submarine – While they may seem almost offensively simple when compared to their peers on their albums, they are still just a little bit of fun. Am I saying that Little James is as good as Yellow Submarine? Christ, no. Am I saying it’s a good song for a band who claims to bleed rock and roll to put out? Probably not. But I am saying that it is a necessary and welcome song to include on a more emotionally open album like SOTSOG. And that’s why (spoiler alert for later) I think it should be on the final tracklist.

So yeah. God bless it but I have come around to Little James. It still gets a C grade when compared to Liam’s future output, and is not one for repeat listening on Spotify, but I do think it gets unfairly dunked on. Give that melody a try at the very least.

Track #6 – Gas Panic!

Still a stone cold classic, still a phenomenal six minutes of morosity and malaise. No notes, it’s perfect, move on.

Track #7 – Where Did It All Go Wrong?

Noel’s lyrics in this one get slept on – “Do you keep the receipts/for the friends that you buy?” is a blinder. While this is a brilliant track and one that should have been a proper, commercially-released single, there is perhaps a little too much going on. The guitars still sound as sorrowful and moody as they should, but the shrill keyboard notes at the beginning are a bit OTT. And this isn’t the only song where I’ve got that problem…

Track #8 – Sunday Morning Call

Ok, so you know how I said that people had criticised this song for sounding overproduced but I didn’t see the issue? Disregard. I now fully understand where they were coming from. Listen to an acoustic version of this (e.g: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bf9KFUysLFw) and you will see just how badly this song has been let down by Noel’s and Spike Stent’s obsession with using new instruments, pedals and knobs. For a man who was now sober, Noel clearly still had a habit to kick when it came to layers, only this time in the form of keyboards and mellotron instead of guitars.

Despite suffocating under all that though, there is a good song to be found underneath. In the lyrics lie a hard truth that unintentionally sums up the song quite nicely – You need more time, it may not work out right, but even if it doesn’t? It’s OK. And that’s what I think of Sunday Morning Call today. It’s alright.

Track #9 – I Can See A Liar

Transplant my thoughts on Put Yer Money…into here.

Also, you just know that somewhere in the forgotten corners of a cupboard in a recording studio somewhere, there’s a tape of Liam Gallagher singing “I can see a liar, and his pants are on fire”. God, can you imagine if they’d played this when Liam was off his face at Wembley? Oasis would have died there and then live on Sky.

Track #10 – Roll It Over

It’s been wonderful seeing this song finally get its flowers after so many years thanks to Liam including it in his live setlists, particularly at Knebworth 2022 which even led to it being released as a single. Deservedly so. It’s the best finale to an Oasis album. I feel there’s more to appreciate here than in Champagne Supernova. Forgive me for going for the low hanging fruit, but the lyrics are more airtight for a start. But it caps off the antisocial malaise that runs through the album quite nicely, while also showing a glimpse of the Oasis of old as they reassume their place atop the food chain with the plastic people no longer surrounding them, but looking up at them. The rock gods will be back soon.

End of Part One

Intermission:

I’ve been a touch more critical of SOTSOG this time around. Does that mean that my opinion has changed and it is no longer my favourite Oasis album?

No. I don’t think so.

Your favourite album by a band or artist doesn’t have to be a perfect one. In fact, it shouldn’t, to sound so squeaky clean would spoil the fun. Standing on the Shoulder of Giants is far from a perfect album. The Gallaghers are clearly buckling under their own weight after so many years of excess but Goddammit, they’re still churning out some quality music that stood head and shoulders above a good chunk of what you heard in the charts in 2000.

I alluded to Dig Out Your Soul coming for SOTSOG’s crown at the start of this entry but here’s the difference between them – This album, despite the shaky quality of some songs and the overproduction in others, is a no-skip album. I would happily sit down and listen to all ten of them. Even Little James. Dig Out Your Soul on the other hand may have one of, if not the best first halves of an album that Oasis ever did, but everything after Falling Down is barely worth your attention. It spends its last fifteen or so minutes petering out. While it perfected the Oasis sound at long last, it didn’t have enough tunes to prove that.

And that’s why I prefer SOTSOG. It may be rough, but it’s still a much more fulfilling ride. Still could be a smidge better though…

Which brings us neatly onto part two. Let’s look at the b-sides. Quick rule I have going into this is that, while I weigh up which ones should be on the album, I must stick to the ten-track limit that SOTSOG has. No more, no less. Let’s go.

End of Intermission

Part Two:

#1 – Let’s All Make Believe

Look, let’s not beat around the bush here, Let’s All Make Believe is one of the best Oasis b-sides, period. It is absolutely worthy of a place on SOTSOG and indeed there’s probably some fans out there who wouldn’t have minded if the album was just this song on an hour long loop.

But here’s the issue: Where does it go?

In the place of Put Yer Money… or I Can See A Liar? Can’t really follow up a slow tempo song with another one. After Roll It Over, a la the Japanese release? No, you can’t follow up a grand finale with another grand finale. Too many cooks spoil the broth. In Sunday Morning Call’s place?

…Maybe.

Let’s All Make Believe needs to be in there. But putting it in is a pain in the arse without upsetting the pace of the album. Maybe this is the reason why the band never put it on the final tracklist in the first place.

TWO SOUL-CLEAVING HOURS LATER

Right I’ve made up my mind, it’s going after Roll It Over. The latter does neatly transition into the former, and the opening stompy notes are a good way to reintroduce Liam after a double dose of Noel. I’m keeping it that way before I change my mind.

#2 – (As Long as They’ve Got) Cigarettes In Hell

See, this is the problem, Oasis did make some brilliant songs as the 90s wound down, they were just too damned slow for a rock and roll band to fill an album with. The Strawberry Fields mellotron returns for this track, one which I believe Liam could’ve done the vocals for, but there’s not enough to make it truly stand out. The chorus is defiant but just a bit too downbeat, I reckon.

#3 – Where Did It All Go Wrong? (Semi-acoustic version)

Had to do some real mulling over this one. On first listen, the lack of the keyboards and the electric guitar caught me off guard and made me think the song was naked and lacking identity. Then, Noel started singing and that’s when I realised this was better – His vocals really get a chance to breathe and pack more of an emotional punch as a result.

Part of me wonders if it would have been better still to go for a full acoustic version like the performance on Jools Holland, but maybe that would have been too much of a course correction. My head says that it still lacks identity without the psychedelic flourishes, but my heart says this is better.

#4 – One Way Road

I actually really like this song, but I think it is best left as a b-side. If Noel hadn’t repeated the first verse in the place of the second then that would have elevated things massively but alas, not to be.

Love the birdsong though.

#5 – Helter Skelter

The only album this will ever end up on is if Oasis do a Masterplan II, and put this in the place of I Am the Walrus. No covers.

#6 – Carry Us All

Noel believes he was suffering creative burnout around this time, but he does try pretty damn hard with this song which is loaded with cynicism aimed at religion. Makes sense that he’d try something like that; coming off the drugs and facing divorce, the more spiritually cleansed might expect him to turn to the Lord. Then he turns round and says that “faith in any God is gonna bury us all”. Oof.

It’d be good for SOTSOG to have a statement, but I highly doubt Noel could have been arsed with dealing with the faithful after they pored through his words and kicked up a fuss. Then again, it’s got less dismal vibes than Sunday Morning Call and has a similar sound too. I think this one’s in.

#7 – Full On

SOTSOG is a predominantly slow album, so to have a track like Full On would be a welcome addition. Like the track I want it to replace, it could be argued as a throwaway, only this one is deeper and catchier. A proper rocker whilst still maintaining the psychedelic sound of the album. And simply because I can’t fully envisage Liam getting to grips with this one (Stick your AI Remixes up your arse), let Noel take the reins.

So with all that in mind, here’s how I would have released Standing on the Shoulder of Giants in the year 2000:

(Note that Where Did It All Go Wrong? is still the original because the bastards took the semi-acoustic version of Spotify.)

(Also, f*ck me, getting an album’s pacing right with these songs is a right arseache.)

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.