I thought the band name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. A little online digging and oh - it’s them, that lot from Leicester. I was on the fringes of this scene when I rocked up in the City of Death late ‘93. I must have seen Prolapse at The Charlotte, and probably heard some of the singles. But they didn’t leave a mark on me, thirty odd years later. I have no memory of this music. The Italian Flag was unfamiliar. It filled a gap on a working morning. But I have no interest in returning to this scene, let alone the City of Death.

⭐ ⭐

There’s a fresh energy to this album, mixed in with an innocence and a sense of fragility. Bollocks. That sounds wanky. How a bloody good mix of electronic music that actually has a soul to it? I could imagine myself dancing to this naked at an end of the Century rave on an iceberg. Now there’s an image. Lovely music.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Indie schmindie miserablists.

⭐

This was a decent find - Alphonsus Idigo and Search. It’s slice of Nigerian reggae pop from 1987. It’s not going to change the world, but it most welcome and uplifting during these current times. I often felt like I needed cheering up back in 1987, but nowhere with the same sense of impending world doom and dread that I experience whenever I turn on the news these days. Forty odd years ago and it was on / off relationships that had me in search of music to make me smile. I don’t now anything about Alphonsus Idigo; I don’t feel I need to. It’s a happy go lucky short burst of reggae pop. It has me foot shuffling and giving me a bit of boost when times are flagging.

Bert Jansch’s Avocet. Bloody hell - I wasn’t expecting a book as part of the CD package. And what a beautiful thing it is, too. I think I was first alerted to Avocet via the always excellent Late Junction. An ebay search was soon set up. Most items clocked in at around £15. No ta. And then one appeared for a fiver. I’ll have a bit of that, thank you very much. Music about birdwatching is about where I’m at these days.

Short and sweet - which was a blessing as that was all that I could tolerate. Indie shite doesn’t speak to me. How the chuff are you expected to dance to this nonsense? Some of the Pixies bass line pricked up my interest. But that was about it I’m afraid.

⭐ ⭐

“I know that such a documentary is the director’s construct, telling the story he wants you to know. But I really did come out of it feeling warmer about Elvis the human being, and even more regretful about the opportunities he missed.”

Richard Williams on EPiC: Elvis Presley

There’s a tremendous amount of energy on this album. It’s not exactly bedtime listening. It kicks you up the arse and offers up a rallying call. I’m not quite sure what the message is, but it sounds like fun. It’s also quite a messy album as it progresses. It descends into music hall nonsense. That’s where I gave up.

⭐ ⭐

The fourth album in a six-act story? Blimey. I may have missed the first three, but there’s no way I’m going to binge on a catch up. The final two acts can do one, as well. I’m being harsh. This wasn’t the rock opera shit I was expecting. It’s almost soft rock, sounding like an album from 1979, not 2015. One for the committed.

⭐ ⭐

Goofy US college art rock shit that actually isn’t very funny. It reminded me of the ‘skits’ on US chat shows. They’re crap as well. Ha, bloody ha. Jonathan Richman has some half decent jokes in his back catalogue, along with the songs to match. AJJ has neither.

⭐ ⭐