Analogue Slop

In which we consider The Cure's unlikely status as the world's biggest alternative band, Robert Smith's reluctance to be called a goth, the surprisingly sunny Wish , the early 90s CD reissue gold rush, Phew's forgotten avant-garde masterpiece, and – Paul Weller's less-than-essential Jam leftovers.

In which we consider the music press's complicated relationship with its former heroes and latest discoveries, George Clinton's fall from grace and unlikely hip hop resurrection, Lush's meteoric rise, the machinery of hype and backlash, and how the weeklies could make a band's reputation before setting about destroying it.

In which we consider Primal Scream’s extremely unlikely redemption arc, Andrew Weatherall before the deification, whether 2026 is the new 1996, They Might Be Giants’ unlikely major-label breakthrough, and Graham’s even more unlikely discovery that he doesn’t hate Flood .

In which we consider Ian Brown learning to live without John Squire, the post-Roses shared universe, Unfinished Monkey Business as musical therapy, the NME readers’ occasionally baffling verdict on 1997, and ask just how many Top 20 lists one awards ceremony really needs. Edit---Episode-39 Edit---Episode-39 Edit---Episode-39

In which we consider the tabloids’ strange relationship with indie rock, Kenickie’s brush with the Daily Star, Oasis as national soap opera, the NME’s war on alleged prog, and whether making a song very long actually makes it progressive rock.

In which we consider Stereolab’s zero-out-of-ten kicking, the NME’s increasingly exhausted rockism, Blink-182’s inescapable rise and the death of selling out

In which we consider Creation Records’ increasingly desperate 1999 rescue plan, debut the Alan McGee Hubris Index, mourn Kula Shaker and Three Colours Red, ask why British bands could no longer crack America, and wonder why Melody Maker is considerably more invested in the Manic Street Preachers conquering the US than the band themselves.

Back from our summer hiatus, in which we consider the Spice Girls’ surprisingly R&B-heavy debut, R.E.M.’s $80 million record deal and the beginning of their commercial decline, and whether New Adventures in Hi-Fi really contained five hit singles.

In which Oasis attempt to sue the very idea of therapy, The Charlatans begin the long road from tragedy to Tellin' Stories , and Imperial Teen prove that some of 1996's best records simply disappeared in plain sight.

In which we make the case for Leatherface's magnificent Mush , PM Dawn quietly invent the future of hip hop, and Set Adrift on Memory Bliss turns out to have been decades ahead of its time.

In which Billy Bragg broadens Sexuality , De La Soul dismantle the Daisy Age, and Dire Straits become the week's most unexpected cultural punching bag.

In which we assess the competing narratives around Kurt Cobain's Rome overdose, uncover the NME and Melody Maker's very different relationships with Nirvana. Before losing ourselves in the smoke, strobes and revolutionary chaos of Scotland's legendary Pure club night, whilst mourning the loss of DJ and co-founder JD Twitch

In which we revisit Aphex Twin’s ambient masterpiece, examine Smashing Pumpkins’ brush with Top of the Pops censorship, marvel at Eddie Vedder’s dressing-room theatrics, uncover the strangest Britpop trivia imaginable, and wonder whether anyone really wanted a Beatles reunion without the hits.

In which Fatboy Slim attempts to convert indie kids to big beat, we rank the week’s albums by their 1997-ness, discover the limits of Seahorses discourse, celebrate The Wannadies, encounter Penthouse’s glorious filth, and crown Sukia’s porn-noir lounge-pop as the most 1997 record of them all

In which Oasis become too big to fail, Radiohead become too ambitious to stop, Jason Pierce turns heartbreak into high art, and both music papers search for a future beyond Britpop while pretending they already know what it looks like

In which we catch Oasis at the exact moment they become unavoidable, trace the strange emotional pull of Some Might Say, consider Snoop Doggy Dogg’s Murder Was The Case multimedia empire, and revisit the brief mid-90s boom where music VHS releases became essential cultural artefacts rather than landfill.

In which Scott Walker returns from self-imposed exile with Tilt, a record so confrontationally out of step with Britpop Britain it feels beamed in from another reality. While the Stone Roses attempt to reclaim their throne via a legendarily ropey Oslo comeback show, woollen knitwear, and several metric tonnes of cocaine-era optimism.

In which we revisit Mr. Scruff’s Keep It Unreal , trace the path from Ninja Tune curiosity to permanently licensed British institution, and ask whether any late-90s album has worked harder in service of TV background music, car adverts and graphic design degree coursework. Elsewhere, we conduct a full spreadsheet-assisted audit of the post- Wu-Tang Forever collapse: RZA’s disappearing production c...

In which the Manic Street Preachers attempt to survive peak overexposure, Melody Maker desperately tries to make festival season feel culturally decisive, and Star Wars crosses the invisible line between treasured generational reference point and permanently monetised corporate property.

In which Eazy-E sues pretty much everyone in sight, we trace the origin story of Deep Cover (and its many afterlives), and a small news item quietly reroutes the entire future of Death Row, Interscope and several billion dollars’ worth of hip hop history. Elsewhere, Sonic Youth attempt to weaponise the alternative nation moment with Youth Against Fascism — a major label push that mistakes cultural...

In which we trace a week where Nirvana quietly extend the Nevermind moment with Incesticide (outtakes, victory laps and all), Primal Scream attempt to stretch Screamadelica into an arena-sized endgame for striking miners, and Bob Dylan is celebrated, second-guessed and sporadically coherent at a sprawling Madison Square Garden tribute that may or may not be for him. Elsewhere, Sinéad O’Connor coll...

In which we dutifully genuflect at the altar of Company Flow’s “proper rap” canonisation (while quietly side-eyeing the syllabus), trace the lineage through Run the Jewels’ stadium-sized righteousness and rummage around Grand Royal’s boutique chaos by revisiting late-90s music press soft target Sean Lennon

In which we tiptoe around Glastonbury's filth, tackle The Beastie Boys Hello Nasty era in a level of detail bordering on the forensic, and ponder the relative levels of 'Post' and 'Rock' in a nascent Mogwai's journey.

In which the 2nd Beatle lawyers up (against his fanbase), the sun sets on the Pet Shop Boys imperial phase and slide into the moral maze that is bootlegging, 1990 style.

In which we attempt to make sense of Paaul Simon's career via Graceland follow up LP Call of the Saints, observe the House Of Love's wobbly renovation & check in on what Pixies and Rick Rubin are up to