When two worlds collide, the result is often a giant mess. But just occasionally, something wonderful happens.
I've written about Abba's The Day Before You Came before - indeed, I made it a Clandestine Classic all the way back in 2012, when that series was still a thing. It is an amazing song, for me the crowning achievement of the band's storied career. It is their best lyric, by far, and the music, soaked through in quiet melodrama, oh! It's quite the thing, even now, more than 40 years later. The record-buying public were less convinced - it only limped to #32 in the UK chart. But what does the record-buying public know?
There have been lots of cover versions since, of course, notably by Blancmange and The Real Tuesday Weld. Now there's another... and it's a marriage made in heaven.
Pulp's skill with kitchen-sink drama is a perfect fit for this tale of minor-key heartbreak rooted in the mundane, whilst the arrangement and BBC Concert Orchestra backing do justice to the majesty of the music. And all for Radio 2's Piano Room feature! I hope everyone involved knows what they've got here, and I hope - forlornly, no doubt - that this becomes a regular addition to Pulp's live set, so well is it suited to Jarvis et al.
There's a woman who works in the same wing of the same floor of the same building as me. She's in a different department, a different team, and our respective jobs do not overlap in any way. We share a kitchen where we both make tea, and use the same printer, but that's about it. I only know her name because it's on her office door. She doesn't know mine, because my office is at the far end of a dead-end corridor (insert own joke here) and you'd never walk past it unless you were coming to see me. We have never spoken.
Except.
If she passes me in the stairwell, she always says hello.
There I was, propping up the bar in a hipper-than-thou boutique hotel, asking more in hope than expectation whether they had any alcohol-free ales. They had two! And this was one...
Big Drop Brewing Co. Paradiso Citra IPA
I wrote in my last TLAP post how much the world of alcohol-free ale has moved on the in the last ten years, and here is a great example. It's not a slavish attempt to mimic an existing bitter but remove the alcohol, no, this is a fresh brew in its own right. And it's bloody lovely. Citra gives the hops away, and there's a lovely fresh citrus taste in every mouthful - always present but never overpowering. My only slight bug bear is that at one point I forgot I was drinking an ale - it could almost have been a regular soft drink, so what's the point? But then, what's the point in being alive? Beats me, we're stuck with it, I suppose. Anyway, Big Drop Brewing's slogan is "beer so good, you won't miss the alcohol" which is not catchy but, fortunately, turns out to be accurate in this case.
Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.
Would I drink more than one? Yes.
Would I drink it all night? Yes, unless I was in the boutique hotel bar all evening, in which case I might start to baulk at the £5.75 they charged me for a 330ml bottle...
Finding a song for this post was tricky. I was going to choose Lemon by U2, for the ale's citrus undertone but, you know, U2 raise antibodies, don't they? Instead, I've gone for some Crowded House; this song contains the line "Ready or not, here comes the drop" which, is nothing else, links (very) loosely to the brewery. QED
I'm not the biggest Springsteen fan but he's got a new single out, and it's a protest song that you could imagine Dylan or our own political troubadour, Billy Bragg, singing. Yesterday, Bruce himself wrote on Instagram:
"I wrote this song on Saturday, recorded it yesterday and released it to you today in response to the state terror being visited on the city of Minneapolis. It's dedicated to the people of Minneapolis, our innocent immigrant neighbors and in memory of Alex Pretti and Renee Good. Stay free..."
As a long-time critic of the Orange Manchild, he doesn't hold back, as you might expect.
Through the winter's ice and cold
Down Nicollet Avenue
A city aflame fought fire and ice
'Neath an occupier's boots
King Trump's private army from the DHS
Guns belted to their coats
Came to Minneapolis to enforce the law
Or so their story goes
Against smoke and rubber bullets
In the dawn's early light
Citizens stood for justice
Their voices ringing through the night
And there were bloody footprints
Where mercy should have stood
And two dead, left to die on snow-filled streets
Alex Pretti and Renee Good
Oh, our Minneapolis, I hear your voice
Singing through the bloody mist
We'll take our stand for this land
And the stranger in our midst
Here in our home, they killed and roamed
In the winter of '26
We'll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis
Trump's federal thugs beat up on
His face and his chest
Then we heard the gunshots
And Alex Pretti lay in the snow dead
Their claim was self-defense, sir
Just don't believe your eyes
It's our blood and bones
And these whistles and phones
Against Miller and Noem's dirty lies
Oh, our Minneapolis, I hear your voice
Crying through the bloody mist
We'll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis
Now they say they're here to uphold the law
But they trample on our rights
If your skin is black or brown, my friend
You can be questioned or deported on sight
In our chants of "ICE out now"
Our city's heart and soul persists
Through broken glass and bloody tears
On the streets of Minneapolis
Oh, our Minneapolis, I hear your voice
Singing through the bloody mist
Here in our home, they killed and roamed
In the winter of '26
We'll take our stand for this land
And the stranger in our midst
We'll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis
We'll remember the names of those who died
On the streets of Minneapolis
ICE out (ICE out)
ICE out (ICE out)
ICE out (ICE out)
ICE out (ICE out)
ICE out (ICE out)
ICE out
So, Robbie Williams now has more number one albums than The Beatles. Sorry, but I had to write that down, to make it seem more real. Nothing against Rob, honestly... but really?
Anyway, there's a song on his latest chart-topper, Britpop, called Morrissey. It's a co-write with fellow Take That alumnus Gary Barlow, who also weighs in with some backing vocals. Here it is.
I don't know what to make of this really. The first couple of verses seem to acknowledge that SPM is not how we all remember him, and still want him to be... but they also seem like an attempt to excuse ("He's a little eccentric.") or explain ("He did an interview. I think what he meant was..."). It's Moz-washing, basically.
I like the singer
He's a little eccentric
He did an interview
I think what he meant was
I'm lost, I'm lonely, I'm hurt, I'm abused
I need love baby, just like you
I'm isolated, deserted and friendless
But the beat goes on, and it feels tremendous
Morrissey (Morrissey), Morrissey (Morrissey)
Is talking to me, talking to me in code
Morrissey (Morrissey), Morrissey (Morrissey)
It's just you and me and they don't need to know
Come here let me hold you, let me hold you for the rest of your life
Come here let me hold you, ah ah ah ah-ah
I never said a word and yet you heard me
I'm a little like you but a lot less worthy
Oh, I don't know, I'm gonna try writing songs
I've got so much to say, they're only 3 minutes long
I'm lost, I'm lonely, I'm hurt, I'm abused
I need love baby just like you
I'll take to the world like a lover spurned
You've had your go now it's my turn
Morrissey (Morrissey), Morrissey (Morrissey)
Is talking to me, talking to me in code
Morrissey (Morrissey), Morrissey (Morrissey)
It's just you and me and they don't need to know
Come here let me hold you, let me hold you for the rest of your life
Come here let me hold you, ah ah ah ah-ah
I'm lost, I'm lonely, I'm hurt, I'm abused
I need love baby just like you
I'll take to the world like a lover spurned
You've had your go now it's my turn
Come here let me hold you, let me hold you for the rest of your life
Come here let me hold you, ah ah ah ah-ah
Come here let me hold you, let me hold you for the rest of your life
Come here let me hold you, ah ah ah ah-ah
Morrissey (Morrissey), Morrissey (seriously)
Is talking to me, talking to me in code
Morrissey (Morrissey), Morrissey (seriously)
It's just you and me, and they don't need to know
It's just you and me, it's just you and me
All of which brings to mind, as a counterpoint if nothing else, Dear Stephen by The Manic Street Preachers. Rol's covered that before, much better than I can. I don't think you can accuse MSP of Moz-washing but, like Robbie, they just wish the Morrissey of 2026 could be a bit more like the Morrissey of 1986. But then, to paraphrase one of his heartbreak lines, don't we all want the one we can't have?
You're, you're still my bad habit
My, a dark little secret
My illicit unseen drug
My secret hidden love
Dear Stephen, please come back to us
I believe in repentance and forgiveness
It's so easy to hate, it takes guts to be kind
To paraphrase one of your heartbreak lines
I'm still ill, I'm cursed to stay
Under your spell for all my days
I'm still a prisoner to you and Larkin
Even as your history darkens
Dear Stephen, please come back to us
I believe in repentance and forgiveness
It's so easy to hate, it takes guts to be kind
To paraphrase one of your heartbreak lines
I've been the boy with the thorn in his side
I want you vivid in your prime
Dear Stephen, please come back to us
I believe in repentance and forgiveness
It's so easy to hate, it takes guts to be kind
To paraphrase one of your heartbreak lines
I found myself in the supermarket last Friday, looking for an ale to accompany the evening's pizza and film combo. A familiar name hoved into view.
Adnams Ghost Ship 0.5%
What's it like? I'll say this as someone who, as an inhabitant of East Anglia, has consumed and enjoyed quite a lot of the regular Ghost Ship from Southwold's Adnams brewery, and that's a decent beer. I had high hopes for this, then, but regret to say I was a little bit disappointed. The original majors on hops and citrus notes, and this tries... but it just doesn't taste quite as nice. To your reviewer, it also seemed a little bit too gassy.
Don't get me wrong, this is good enough, and ten years ago would have been a class-leading ale, but the world of alcohol-free beer has moved on, and this has been surpassed, in my view.
Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.
Would I drink more than one? No, there are other, tastier ales on offer.
Would I drink it all night? No, I think the slight over-gassiness would be a problem.
Stats: 0.5% ABV. Calories 60 kcal/500ml. Currently £1.75 for a 500ml cans in Waitrose
Stars:★★★☆☆
As usual then, a song. I've posted Ghost Town by The Specials often on this blog, so here's something else, Ghost by Such Small Hands, aka Melanie Howard. I've posted this before too, but I love her voice so indulge me...
These words, these lyrics from ...And Stones, are what came to mind recently and repeatedly. It comes from listening to the news too much, from despairing at the geopolitical chaos unleashed upon the world by the orange toddler. As if having climate anxiety wasn't enough, now we can be anxious about everything else as well.
Yes, I know this is me returning to Swagger yet again. Sorry (not sorry). Take comfort in the fact that one day I'll get to the point where I've featured every song on the album at least once... and then I can just stop blogging completely and put us all out of our misery. Until then...
Hey, you in that dress
Yeah, we've all been long-ex-
We've all had that nervousness now
Turn to this stress
And we wonder as we wear business dress
Slip in little flames
About miles apart
Styles apart and miles apart
And stones
Lovers uptown, we went uptown
There were lovers uptown, we went uptown
Hey, we can get close
Close on the one hand
Remembered on the other
But how we got too close in that mood
Yeah, I've been to your town
It was always someone else’s
It was neat and sparse
It was easily understood
There were never clues in there like ours
Lovers all around, we went all around
There were lovers all around, we went all around
Yeah, I'll say it, I'll say it for you
But don’t repeat it, don’t even think it
We’re all going backwards
The world's in division
Cross everyone else
But give me a description
Of what’s joint in this town
Describe an arc of your own
Describe yourself
Yeah, description
Smaller than thought
How wayward intention
Not as wicked as people say
Send me a letter with clues
Send, send flattering dreams
Send love, send stones, send structures
Love is uptown, we went uptown
There were lovers uptown, we went uptown
Altogether now
Say my name and hi! (Hi! Hi...)
Smile and hold your head back
Close your eyes
Close your eyes and take as read
Close your eyes
Close your eyes, then throw your arms around
Whoever you think it is
On a recent pub visit, I asked the corkscrew-haired, indie-chick barmaid if she had Guinness 0.0 - she thought for a bit, disappeared from view, then came back with a can in her hand and said it was the last one they had left. Lucky me...
Guinness 0.0
What's it like? I'll be honest, I'm not the most frequent drinker of the black stuff, so maybe I'm not best placed to judge... but as far as I can tell, this looks like regular Guinness, feels like regular Guinness and tastes like regular Guinness. I'm not sure I could easily tell the difference, and what more could anyone ask from an alcohol-free beer? On top of that, it's tasty too. As with regular Guinness, it takes the first inch of the pint for me to get acclimatised, but after that I'm off and running.
Would I drink it in a pub? Yes.
Would I drink more than one? Yes. It's a creamy, tasty pint!
Would I drink it all night? Possibly not, but only because Guinness can be quite heavy, so I might need some variety.
Stats: 0.0% ABV. Calories 85 kcal/500ml. Fat free! Currently £13.25 for a 10x440ml cans in Sainsbury's
Stars:★★★★★
So, a song. I was going to go with Zero by The Donnas, but the Imagine Dragons song of the same name gets the nod, not least for its unusual video and deceptively heavy lyrics.
Another that doesn't sound too blue, musically, but this is Sparklehorse, so you might know better, lyrically. Who doesn't need a little comfort? I know I do.
With rocks in my dress
And smoke in my hair
I walked into a lake
To get some sleep down in there
Won't you come to comfort me?
Won't you come to comfort me?
With minnows in my belly
And deep in my veins
The breath-robbin' lightning
Was making diamonds of rain
Won't you come to comfort me?
Won't you come to comfort me?
I dreamed I was born on a mountain on the moon
Where nothing grows or ever rots
I dreamed that I had me a daughter
Who was magnificent as a horse
Won't you come to comfort me?
Won't you come to comfort me?
Won't you come to comfort me?
Won't you come to comfort me?
