Perhaps not the fourth most experimental album of 2024, possibly not the fourth most shocking album of 2024, maybe not the most boundary breaking album of 2024, conceivably not the most 2024 album of 2024. But unquestionably, objectively and scientifically the fourth best album of 2024, because sometimes you just need to:
I found a lot of the euphoria surrounding Black Panther’s release rather abhorrent.
Firstly, as you might have noticed if you’ve been paying close attention, I am a white gentleman. And even though I’m actually one hundred and seventy sixth Shoshone (because apparently just saying shit like that makes it true) I would probably identify as white. Despite white men being the face of literally everything, ever, I still understand the need for representation. As a glib and probably entirely offensive example, since my ‘accident’ by general bodily make up and bone structure has been so royally kejiggered that I can no longer urinate standing up. I used to think that was a disgraceful and embarrassing secret shame that nobody else could possibly comprehend. I then heard a sketch on That Mitchell and Webb Sound that referenced somebody getting so badly beaten up that he now ‘had to wee sitting down’. I was overjoyed to hear of my affliction being so universally understood and no longer felt so weird.
So, yeah, I’m practically black.
We love it when old people can still do stuff, don’t we?
Roughly seven times every day local news recommends that we celebrate the fact that a 98 year old man still has his job as Tesco’s, inviting us to applaud open mouthed in marvel that an old person is still able to stack shelves for 8 hours a week without frequently shitting himself
Not frequently…
My Gran is a real inspiration, as she’s 94 yet still walks up to two miles a day to post dog excrement through the letter box of immigrant families’ houses
Continue reading “26 A Tribe Called Quest: We got it from Here… Thank You 4 Your Service”
In a strange way, whenever you listen to Malibu you’re always a little disappointed…
I met up with an old friend recently who I’ve not seen for literally a donkey’s years
who I obviously won’t name, because even if the chance of him reading this are slim I’m a great believer in data protection, so let’s just call him ‘J Theakston’…
No, that’s too obvious, let’s call him ‘Jamie T’…
No, not that Jamie T, who did one amazing song ten years ago and is still crapping out songs not fit to lick the sweat off Sheila’s boots to this day, a different Jamie T
Necessary Evil 