An interesting album, but hardly a classic. It does what you would expect from Fatboy - it builds, it bleeps, it bounces. But it’s very much a fast food instant hit. I didn’t find myself humming any of the lops later in the day. My main interest was in trying to spot the samples.

⭐ ⭐

Another day, another KLF podcast.

Eternal, etc.

And so here we have Miranda Sawyer with an hour of KLF conversation as part of her Talk 90’s To Me series.

Miranda is great with her understanding of promotion of all things 90’s. She was there and pretty much lived the dream.

Her constant laughter on the KLF pod is a little grating - a minor irritant. I think it’s the subject matter of what is quite a dark story that doesn’t lend itself to the bubbly narration.

Joining Miranda on the pod is Joe Muggs, here to plug his latest cover feature on the KLF for Disco Pogo magazine. He knows his Transcentral backstory.

It remains a magical tale, and one that I’ve not quite exhausted. But there is a sense of allowing the well to run dry with these art terrorist anecdotes.

The KLF squeezed so much into a relatively short period. The stories are getting repeated across various pods, with a different type of truth emerging at the other end each time.

Which is VERY Discordian in outlook.

It’s similar to all the Clough stories over the years. I can now no longer listen to the endless podcasts and YT clips with stories from the Great Man. I’ve heard them all before.

I’m not even going to touch the latest Sex Pistols podcast on BBC Sounds. How many times can you tell the story of overflowing bins in Leicester Square and Bill Grundy?

The 90’s pod though is definitely worth a listen. The section on burning the million quid gets quite deep and shines a new light on the whole spectacle.

I did like the quote that the KLF “aren’t the Pet Shop Boys.”

There’s also some well researched segments that bring the story up to date. The KLF may be dead, but the story isn’t.

MuMumification day is coming up on Merseyside on the 23rd, natch.

They’re still BONKERS, they’re still kicking against the pricks.

Following on from my Sunday night folk session with the great Dick Gaughan, I’ve gone full on folkie with Martin Carthy’s latest album, Transform Me Then Into a Fish.

Album titles still matter, Comrades.

It’s not an easy listen, but it is a rewarding one. Carthy describes the album as having come full circle since his 1965 self-titled debut. Transform has many call backs to the original.

The vocals are delivered in a staccato style. It can take some getting use to. This leads you to focus on the words, and then being taken in deeper with the storytelling.

Which is what folkie shit is all about, right?

Carthy’s daughter Eliza contributed to the production. I still remember when she was a young trailblazer for the new folk scene in the mid 90’s with her punky folk looks. The Carthy family name remains a very proud one in English folk circles.

Elsewhere on the album and sitarist Sheena Mukherjee is another standout performer. Folk music is essentially people music. It needs to adapt or die. This is a very modern take on an old tradition.

My interest in the new album was first raised after seeing Carthy perform a track live at the Mercury Prize last month. It was spellbinding, seeing an 84 year-old fella silencing an arena venue with just his voice and guitar.

Plus his songs. Never forget the songs - something that is often overlooked in new music.

Carthy appeared genuinely humble after receiving the applause from a glitzy Newcastle Arena on Mercury night. Of course he was never going to win the music biz vanity prize. But it was a stunning performance, much like this album.

It’s difficult to understand the importance of Ziggy at the time when I was only three years of age back in 1973. But it still sounds like the future, more than fifty years later.

The album starts in such an understated way with Five Years. It’s a softener for what is to come. By the time Starman kicks in, then we’re rocking.

Despite the WHAM BAM force of nature, it’s also a sorrowful record. Lady Stardust in particular always lowers the mood for me.

Four songs that have the word star in the title - he was trying to tell us something. My brain hurts a lot.

Oh how we miss him.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

One of the first albums that I bought back in 1981, and one that I continue to play almost forty five years later.

Gosh.

OMD mastered the delicate balance of subverting beautiful pop ballads with a dark and atmospheric message. The music hooks you first, before the lyrics then leave you thinking.

Any album that can have a song (and consecutive singles!) with the same name sitting side by side, tells you that OMD weren’t playing the game.

A rare example of 80’s music that understood that the medium is the message.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

This sounds a little like Stars on 45 - HIT after HIT after HIT. And all under 23 minutes as well. It’s a breakneck speed of an album that leaves you a little breathless.

What Jerry Lee lacks in his vocal abilities, he makes up for with the piano playing. It sounds like the vocals of Donald Trump with the body of Jools Holland.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

If it’s a Sunday night, then I must be listening to some folkie shit, right?

OH HAI Dick Gaughan.

Sunday nights back in the late 80’s and early 90’s meant Here Be Dragons with the legendary John Shaw on Radio Trent.

John is sadly no longer with us. He really, really is missed. Most of my musical education during this period came from his unique tastes.

When I should have been mashed off me tits and getting into sorts of trouble, I was listening to late night folk radio in bed.

That’s not as WEIRD as it might seem.

Dick Gaughan was occasionally played on Here By Dragons. But not as much as the House Artist, Richard Thompson, and all things Fairport.

On the CD player this evening is Gaughan’s Handful of Earth. It was picked up in the wonderful second hand St Helena music shop in Walton-on-the-Naze.

I became more aware of Gaughan following his collaborations with Billy Bragg. This album includes World Turned Upside Down - a song that Bragg would also cover on the Between the Wars EP.

It’s wistful, almost soulful Sunday evening music. The burden of the new week ahead doesn’t loom as large with a little folkie interlude.

That’s very much how I remember the great John Shaw and Here Be Dragons.

Bark Psychosis' Hex, Lowell George’s Thanks I’ll Eat It Here, and Ali Farka Toure’s Talking Timbuktu.

Look - I’ve been away.

I’ve been away buying CD’s…

But that’s not the point.

One of the pleasures of returning home is finding the stash of CD’s that the local Postie has left for me.

I’ve been after Hex for a year or so now. Prices between £15 - £20 are not unknown.

I managed to pick this up for £8 - a fiver or so above my usual personal threshold.

It’s bloody good though. Dark, early 90’s proto post-rock. That makes it sound a lot more pretentious than it actually is.

At the other end of the scale we have Lowell George.

Erm, I’ve not actually heard this. But Robert Elms always bangs on about how bloody good it is. He’s yet to let me down.

And finally Ali Farka Toure. This was a recent album from the 1,001 Albums list. It’s an uplifting record that gets even my downbeat feet dancing.

What can I trouble the postie with next?

Don’t stop off at the Oxfam in Herne Hill and spunk away more money on CD’s.

DON’T STOP OFF AT THE OXFAM IN HERNE HILL…

Yeah, you know what’s coming.

I find it impossible to resist the lure of the Herne Hill Oxfam each time that I cycle past.

There’s a steady turnover of quality CD’s to flick through. Not the usual Simply Red charity shop crap, either.

Fifteen minutes later and I was £7 lighter, with three CD’s - one of which is a triple.

Not bad.

I hesitated over The Jungle Brothers' debut. I love their hip house crossover, with the Daisy Age angle. But is it really a CD album?

Who gives a shit at £2. Add it to the basket.

Then there was Mozza, with Ringleader of the Tormentors - his last acceptable album before he became, erm, a little questionable with his views.

So that makes it alright then.

Finally a triple package from Fats Domino. That will pass away the winter evenings with a bottle of red on the go.

I must try and plan a different bicycling route from Herne Hill back to Sunny Stockwell.

We reached 1,001 albums on the 1,001 albums generator on Friday morning.

Blimey.

What next?

For the record, Friday’s serving was Little Richard’s Here’s Little Richard. It was a fitting finish; I awarded it five stars for the sheer rawness, energy, and, yep, sex.

Not all albums on this extensive list have had rawness, energy and sex. I struggled somewhat to find these admirable traits in some of the shitty hair metal albums that were deemed worthy to grace the list.

R and I started the daily ritual around two and a half years ago. The 1,001 album generator site is modelled on the book 1,001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die.

This online exercise has worked superbly as part of a group. We are both delivered the same album each day. A review is then added.

I broadly know R’s musical tastes. I thought I knew mine. One of the pleasures of this project has been to compare his short and insightful listening notes with my scribblings.

The 1,001 site provides a detailed breakdown of our shared group interests. We’ve very conservative in providing an average rating of 2.52 out of 5.

Like I said - there has been an awful lot of hair metal shit to sit through.

Our favourite decade is 1980. No surprises there.

Rock ‘n’ Roll, Reggae and post-punk come out as our most popular shared genres.

We showed little love for metal, hard rock and, erm, samba,

As a snapshot, our highest rated albums included offerings by Sam Cooke, Al Green, Curtis Mayfield, Specials, The Clash, The Beatles, Portishead, De La Soul, Malcom McLaren, Soft Cell, Muddy Waters, The Undertones, ABC, Ginger Baker, The Human League, Otis Redding, David Bowie, Fela Kuti, Velvet Underground, Dexy’s, Wire, Aretha, Run DMC, Massive Attack, Pixies, Johnny Cash, Lou Reed, The Fall, Public Enemy and Pulp.

Quite a playlist.

Yeah, it’s all a bit muso noodling, but in an age of streaming slop, it’s also been a fantastic exercise to open up new artists that I wouldn’t have explored before.

I’ve added around two hundred and fifty CD’s to my collection as a direct consequence of the list.

The past two and a half years have flown by. I’ve made the daily listening as part of my online routine each morning.

And so what next?

Similar online daily recommendation sites are available. I think we’ll give them a try.

I’d highly recommend the original 1,001 albums list for anyone that feels they are treading water and is open to new ideas.