Another day, another new drop from Sleaford Fucking Mods. They’re rinsing all they can out of the new album which lands on Friday. I make this the fourth song that has been released across various platforms with half decent videos to match. Back in the day and we would have called these singles.

And so here we Sleaford Mods featuring Aldous Harding with Elitist G.O.A.T. There’s a real band feel to this one, including a boss baseline riff that kicks in mid-song.

I don’t know much (OK, anything) about about Aldous Harding. But Sleaford Fucking Mods seem to be on a run of form when it comes to picking collabs.

The Triffids' The Black Swan album, from 1989. I’ve not heard a single track from it previously. But I became pretty obsessed with the 1987 release Calenture, towards the end of last year. I thought I would give The Black Swan a punt.

I knew noting of the Aussie band, until the 1,001 Albums list served up Calenture one morning. Ah, I remember that song, Bury Me Deep, with endless radio play back in ‘87. The rest of the album totally immersed me. In the end I had to force myself from listening to it each day.

Maybe the same fate will await with the Black Swan; I might possibly play it, and then realise that Calenture was an outstanding one off. But I do like the intrigue of hearing an album for the first time.

This was the way I use to listen to music, pre-digital days. I’d often buy albums, and then allow them to grow with me. Streaming has made it all so disposable and instant.

I admit that my pile of To Play CD’s now takes up the best part of eight shelves, and is stretching to almost 800 new albums for me to experience.

OUCH.

Unlistenable. But I think that’s the point. I pressed on, all the same. I quite enjoyed the rhythmic nature of it all. Plus some of the samples. Water drips against an industrial backdrop on Negativ Nein works well. Three stars for an unlistenable album is not bad going.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Walking the line from R ‘n’ B over to something a little let looser. You can almost hear the sound of the trousers widening at the hem as the album progresses. The title track stands out. It’s almost pop perfection. Some of the more serious workouts sounded laboured. The soulful elements are a delight, the muscle bound muso riffs not so.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Here’s a new one for me: Maxine Funke. Don’t be fooled by the name. Maxine is far from the funky diva. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Instead, she’s a New Zealand based artist who produces some very haunting melodies. No surprises that it was the ever excellent Late Junction that first alerted me.

In particular, the track Let’s Go! Another Year seemed to fit the mood for me right now. There’s a very light touch to the production behind the almost constrained vocals. Think Nina - Nordenstam, deffo not Simone - who would fit the slightly bonkers funky diva description.

Timeless Town is the latest album release. It sounds perfect for the first few weeks of the new year, despite being released in autumn of last year.

Late Junction rarely fails to deliver. It’s an outpost of radio that somehow still manages to break through all the bullshit that occupies the airwaves elsewhere.

Oh - and SHOUT OUT to Mule’s Oddcaste which is playing a similar role on a local level.

I don’t know what to honestly say about The Joshua Tree. It’s perfection, but it’s also U2. No musical snobbery here, nope. It was right for me at the time with a shiny new CD player paid for out of my first pay packet. It led me to exploring other types of music, meaning that I left U2 behind. I can’t diss it, as you would expect in a cool, Bono bashing way. The songs are great, the production is lush. It’s a pleasure to listen to from start to finish as a one off again. But I didn’t really say that, right?

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Refused to listen.

⭐

Refused to listen.

⭐

I’ve been catching up with some Andy Kershaw Plays Some Bloody Great Records podcasts. Tell It Like It Is, etc. Where else can you hear the Stones covering The Temptations, a Martin Stephenson kitchen session, and some DIY recordings from a field trip the Democratic Republic of the Congo from back in the late 1980’s?

Kershaw sounds as bitter as ever from being sidelined from the BBC - and indeed he should. There are few other broadcasters who understand their audience, and who also know their music inside out. He is a rare asset that the BBC should have ‘reintegrated’ back into what platform Kershaw now fits these days. It’s remarkable to consider that he once held down a Radio 1 spot, playing pretty much the same music that he is still playing on his podcasts these days.

He also has a great relationship with the artists he has championed over the decades. They’re still lining up to appear on his podcast, live and direct from his kitchen table. The background barking from his dog Bertie sounds almost like a canine two fingers being raised up to the BBC.

I’ve always loved the bashfulness of Kershaw. Put simply, he doesn’t give a shit. This Live Aid clip where he held court with the unlikely trio of Sting, Phil Collins and, erm, Howard Jones is a brilliant watch. He cuts the interview short and tells Phil to bugger off to the other side of the Atlantic.

You get the first hour of the podcasts for free. A Patreon endorsement unlocks a second hour. I confess to not having signed up - but I really should. Cost of living shit, innit. I do have a list of ‘creators’ who I really want to endorse, should a little more money come my way. Without the likes of Kershaw still kicking over the statues, well, then we’re left with a very bland cultural offering.

This has got an experimental feel to it. The ideas sound half-formed, almost with improvisation taking place around some loose, central message. The album is all the better for this.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐