Analogue Slop

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 credits, the rise of landfill Wu-Tang, Ghostface’s lone quality-control operation, and why Beneath The Surface deserves rescuing from the great late-90s rap mulch pile.

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 weight for crossover potential, and raises the eternal question of whether some bands are simply too cool (or too dissonant) to ever properly land.

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 collides head-on with the limits of acceptable dissent, the UK music press attempts to decide who gets to be radical (and how), and we revisit a moment where rebellion starts to look suspiciously well-behaved.Plus: techno pagan sound systems, proto-post-rock glimpses, Madchester comedowns, and one extremely bitter letter writer.

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

In which we consider DJ Muggs imperial phase, House of Pain's bad club ubiquity, Funkdoobiest's anonymity, The Trouble With Rap Lyrics 1993 style vs where we land in 2026, and - for some light relief - Elastica's Melody Maker debut

In which Rage Against The Machine rage against the PMRC, Orbital are early to the party & One Dove and Weatherall lay the foundations for a 21st century myth

In which we establish year zero for the Post-Punk revival, watch the Big Beat shark leave the water and are consumed in the flames of the New Pop Explosion

In which The Prodigy & Beastie Boys bang heads, the Beach Boys archival industrial complex looms large, Courtney Love becomes the zeitgeist and Belle & Sebastian win hearts (and lose us).

In which we ponder Radiohead's barely concealed ambition, drop our jaws at Shack's endless chain of misfortune, encounter scepticism at the next British Invasion (tm) & consider a formative band's influence on the Alt Rock canon.

In which we dissect the Trent Reznor In The Sharon Tate Murder Mansion Myth, salute Senseless Things self-sabotage, shackle ourselves back to hipster baggage with Alice In Chains and marvel at Carter USM's early 90's ubiquity with Steve Lamacq

In which we reckon with Marilyn Manson, explore post-Post Rock with Fridge, consider Gay Dad's debut album & grapple with the Melody Maker's idea of 'cool'

In which we unpack the NWA EP controversy as it ripples through the UK press, witness Brian Eno and John Cale’s uneasy studio détente, hear The La’s disown their masterpiece, confirm goth’s stubborn pulse, and baggy gets neatly compiled

In which we ponder Rocket From The Crypt's commercial ascent, initiate the Super Furry Animals Fan Inquisition, try and make sense of mid 90's Electronic micro-genres and grapple with the ever changing legacy of Paul Weller.

In which we witness REM's return to touring, Menswear enter the stage,Trip Hop blows up, Bad Religion blow it, & the NME picks a fight with the 80's.

In which the Melody Maker discover Hole’s second album, Kingmaker discover their successors, Fun Da Mental discover Pakistan, Echobelly and Sleeper discover The Pixies & Nirvana discover the middle of the road

In which we wrap up our listening odyssey through the Top 50 Albums of 1995 and put to together our own Top 10's of 1995.

In which we revel in the girth of NME and Melody Maker Xmas double issues, compare and contrast the access to talent each weekly has and begin a foolhardy two part effort to speedrun each papers Top 50 Albums of 1995.Part 2, covering 24 - 1 and our own lists out on New Years Eve

In which the Melody Maker goes Pop, the Spice Girls, Space, Ocean Colour Scene and Ian McCulloch ask the question; how does it feel to be on top of the world? And the NME asks the question; is music dead?(the answer may involve The Internet)

Episode 3 and we journey back to May 1993 to encounter a particularly confrontational week of music news courtesy of the NME and Melody Maker. Featuring Albini vs. Cobain, The Velvet Underground vs. Time, Therapy vs. America, Cornershop vs. the Melody Maker, Björk vs. Mediocrity and U2 vs. Teenage Indifference. 

In which the Gallaghers criminal empire is revealed, we offer up Terrorvision: By The Numbers, Liz Fraser (probably) fires her publicist, Ash's musical DNA is picked over and NME yells at Old Man.

In which Primal Scream orchestrate an unlikely after hours jam session, the Lo-Fidelity Allstars arrive to save us all, Wu-Tang come back like a comet, The Seahorses arrive late to the party and the NME is equally baffled by both The Chemical Brothers and Kraftwerk.