I’ve listened to this on AirPods. I’ve listened to this on a pair of bass boosting, noise canceling big beasts; I’ve even gone old school and played this on CD through my amp, with bass boosted. Yet it still sounds SO tinny. That’s the appeal, right? You’re always half a track away from a possible film soundtrack. It all adds to the sense of suspense, even if the bass has got lost down the back of the settee.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Not more punk ska. I wanted to really dislike this. But the uplifting horns on the opener We Will Fall Together got me in my groove. There’s almost a South American feel to the sound, fused with elements of Irish bawdy barroom songs. Mixing pop and politics always helps. Quite a statement of an album. It probably sounds even better at 10pm, rather than my 10am airing.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Twee, cute, dreamy.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

This is a real mixed bag. The opening Salty Dog track is quite a statement. What then follows is some genre hopping taking in rock opera, the blues and sea shanties. I have no idea what it’s all about but I quite enjoyed the grandness to it all.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Live albums rarely work. I want to hear the music, not the whooping. Once the audience gets settled, My Morning Jacket have some cracking tunes. It sounds like the melodies however are cranked up for the live crowd. I would have preferred an unplugged format for this album. It worked for Nirvana - probably the best and only decent live album.

⭐ ⭐

I never really got the whole ska punk thing. Slapstick does little to convince me otherwise. I love ska, I love punk. But only in their purest forms. You’re better off listening to Sandinista! from start to finish. So there

⭐ ⭐

He’s so London, he’s so South, etc. Transpontine soul floats all over geography. There’s no mistaking where this album was recorded, despite the generic Geography title. It’s laid back S ldn, and not the SHOUTY SHOUTY version that sometimes boils over in the summer. A half decent spring moment captured, ahead of the more livelier days ahead. Enjoyable, if a little bland.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

And so farewell Andy Kershaw. I was very saddened to hear of his death. I admit to not knowing that he was seriously ill. He seemed to be the type of character that was always there - cutting his broadcasting teeth on Whistle Test, being the wonderfully rude and inappropriate host at Live Aid, his out of place Radio 1 show, transiting to Radio 3, and then even finding a new home in the DIY world of podcasting. But alas, no more.

His random podcast over recent years is actually far better than his wonderful Radio 3 shows, before he got the boot at the Beeb. Kershaw finally found a platform where he didn’t need to hold back and could Tell It Like It Is. In the murky world of post-legacy media, this can often be a euphemism for right wing nut jobs going off on one. But not for Kershaw. If anything, the opposite was true.

Sure, he was flawed at times with a complicated personal life. Who isn’t? It was quite something to be able to rebuild his career, despite both the BBC and the tabloids seemingly doing all that they could to hold him back.

At the core of his dogged determinism was the music. It wasn’t his ego or even financial reward; he had no shame in passing around the begging bowl on his podcast, pleading literal poverty to keep the lights running on the random pods. You sense that he felt it was his mission to get the music out there and share his love of it with others.

I’ve been introduced to many amazing artists thanks to Kershaw. The podcast title of Andy Kershaw Plays Some Bloody Good Records was true to form. What we now broadly know as World Music reaching a larger audience is largely down to Kershaw. His knowledge was vast.

And o farewell Andy Kershaw. He didn’t give a shit, right up until the end.

A new one for me. I wouldn’t describe this as country, despite what Wiki tries to tell you. It’s more in the tradition of Steve Earle. It’s the kind of music Alabama 3 might be making if they came from, erm, Alabama and not Brixton. I could have done without the talky talky bits. Otherwise a very classy alt Americana album.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I finally got round to watching the Spinal Tap film this evening. A brief VPN switch and a little creative searching led me to where I needed to be - and then the local village cinema announced that it will also be screening The End Continues in a couple of weeks. Hey hoe.

It’s not a bad film - in fact it’s rather good - but it struggle to compete with the original. No shit. Sequels are rarely a good idea, especially when all that went before was groundbreaking and spawned a whole new cinematic genre.

And so I won’t compare The End Continues to the first film. Much…

But it’s impossible to escape the backstory. Even the film itself includes footage from the first Tap movie, to help fill in the gaps for anyone who isn’t up to speed.

The plot is irrelevant. For the film to work, Tap need to be back together again. A rather unnecessary hook is developed in which to hang the next couple of hours or so. All you want to do is to observe the current state of the band relationships.

And that’s what works with The End Continues. It’s a very warm, life-affirming film, more about friendships than it is about rock ‘n’ roll. Trainspotting II tried something similar, but didn’t quite pull it off. Tap get away with it.

It’s impossible not to have any love for the main characters. The axis is around David and Nigel, and their love hate relationship. Age is also a major theme. The End Continue isn’t afraid to focus on death - and not in a metal style, either.

Some of the star cameos by the likes of Macca and Elton don’t work. They feel very forced and distract from the amateurish nature of the band. The ending is predictable, but also needed doing. Look away now if you’re a drummer, etc.

It’s a lovely film that I’m sure even the stiffs in the village cinema will enjoy. All the signposts are there from the original - Nigel and his pedals, the back and forth banter, and even the structure of the end credits.

The End Continues is about growing old ever so slightly gracefully, and a little wiser. But without the drugs.