A regular reader has been in touch to tell us about the Wigan Diggers’ Festival, held on Saturday 12th September. It’s one of those quietly brilliant community events: free music, poetry, films, talks — all celebrating Gerrard Winstanley (1609–1676) and the 17th‑century True Levellers, better known as the Diggers.
For anyone unfamiliar, Winstanley was a Wigan-born religious reformer, political philosopher and activist. He and his followers occupied common land that had been enclosed and planted crops to feed local people. Their belief was simple and radical: private property should be abolished and land held in common. Winstanley famously declared that “The earth was made a common treasury for all!” — a line that still resonates today.
From redistributing land, we move on to redistributing genres. This week’s list ranges from classical to rockabilly, folk-bluegrass to Hawaiian, and a few stops in between. As always, a version of this Song List goes out every Wednesday on Facebook, with a slightly later posting on this website.
We begin with Beethoven — and end with The Skids — with plenty of musical detours along the way.
Ludwig Van Beethoven – ‘Piano Sonata No. 14 “Moonlight” In C Sharp Minor’
Beethoven wrote this in 1801 and dedicated it to his pupil Countess Giulietta Guicciardi. The nickname “Moonlight” wasn’t Beethoven’s — it came later, from critic Ludwig Rellstab, who said the first movement sounded like moonlight on Lake Lucerne.
Black Cat Trio & Donna – ‘Roll Over Beethoven’
Chuck Berry’s 1956 original was a rock ’n’ roll landmark, famously telling classical purists to “roll over Beethoven and tell Tchaikovsky the news.” This cover leans into rockabilly energy, keeping Berry’s rebellious spirit intact.
Lou Deleuze – ‘Ce Monde’
A modern chanson track with a reflective, almost philosophical tone. Deleuze’s work often blends French pop with folk influences, and this song sits firmly in that tradition — melodic, melancholic, and quietly political.
Fu Manchu – ‘Blue Tile Fever’
From the Californian stoner‑rock veterans. Fu Manchu’s sound is rooted in fuzzed‑out guitars, desert‑rock grooves and surf‑skate culture. ‘Blue Tile Fever’ is a nod to pool‑skating — a subculture they’ve always championed.
Buddy Holly – ‘Heartbeat’
Released in 1958, this was one of Holly’s last singles before his tragic death in 1959. It didn’t chart highly at the time, but it’s become a staple of early rock ’n’ roll — simple, catchy, and unmistakably Buddy.
Indigo Girls – ‘Galileo’
A 1992 folk-rock classic exploring reincarnation, self‑reflection and the idea of learning across lifetimes. The title references the astronomer Galileo Galilei, used as a metaphor for questioning and enlightenment.
Israel “IZ” Kamakawiwo’ole – ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’
Recorded in one take in 1988, IZ’s medley of ‘Over the Rainbow’ and ‘What a Wonderful World’ became globally beloved. His gentle ukulele and warm vocal delivery turned a familiar song into something timeless and deeply emotional.
Elvis Presley – ‘Suspicious Minds’
Written and first released by Mark James in 1968, but it was Elvis’s 1969 version that became a worldwide hit. James’s original lacked the punch and arrangement that Elvis — and producer Chips Moman — brought to it.
Rollins Band – ‘Move Right In’
Henry Rollins’ post‑Black Flag outfit specialised in muscular, groove‑driven rock. ‘Move Right In’ showcases their heavier, more aggressive side — tight rhythms, spoken‑word intensity, and Rollins’ trademark confrontational delivery.
The Dead South – ‘These Boots’
Canadian folk‑bluegrass with a gothic twist. The Dead South mix banjo, cello and dark humour, and ‘These Boots’ is a great example of their storytelling style — rustic, rhythmic, and slightly mischievous.
Bob Seger – ‘Wait For Me’
Seger, best known for his work with the Silver Bullet Band, has a knack for reflective ballads. ‘Wait For Me’ is one of his later-career gems — understated, heartfelt, and beautifully sung.
The Skids – ‘A Woman In Winter’
From the Scottish post‑punk band’s 1981 album Joy. The Skids blended punk energy with art‑rock ambition, and this track shows their melodic, atmospheric side — a wintery, dramatic piece with Stuart Adamson’s unmistakable guitar work.
There’s a thread that runs through British history — a reminder that the freedoms we enjoy weren’t handed out politely by benevolent elites. They were fought for, demanded, and in some cases paid for in blood. Last week we revisited the Peterloo Massacre of 16 August 1819, when cavalry charged into a peaceful crowd of 60,000 in Manchester. Eighteen people died, hundreds were maimed, and all because ordinary men and women dared to insist on the right to vote.
It’s worth repeating: civil and religious liberties are never guaranteed. They can be chipped away by those who claim to be “protecting” us from offence, discomfort, or ideas they don’t like. The arts — especially the awkward, challenging, non‑conformist bits — are often the first target. So, in the spirit of artistic freedom, curiosity and a refusal to be told what we should or shouldn’t listen to, here are the highlights of this week’s quirky Midweek Song List.
And yes — we’re indulging in cover versions. Three of them. Each one worth your time.
The Corrs – “One Day Like This”
Elbow released One Day Like This in 2008, and it quickly became one of those modern anthems that festivals, weddings and late‑night singalongs cling to. The Corrs strip it back entirely — no bombast, no orchestral swell, just a warm acoustic glow. Their version leans into intimacy rather than grandeur, giving the song a different emotional centre. It’s less “arms around strangers at Glastonbury” and more “quiet moment in the kitchen at midnight.” A lovely reinterpretation that shows how a song can breathe differently when handled with care.
The Regrettes – “Fox On The Run”
Sweet released Fox On The Run in 1975, during their glam‑rock pomp. It was the first A‑side written entirely by the band, hinting at the heavier, more muscular sound they’d later explore. The Regrettes take the track and inject it with youthful urgency. Their drummer, in particular, drives the whole thing forward with a kind of joyous insistence. The glam swagger is still there, but now it’s filtered through punk‑pop energy and a modern sense of fun. It’s a reminder that good songs survive reinvention — and sometimes thrive on it.
The Dead South – “People Are Strange”
The Doors released People Are Strange in 1967 — a psychedelic, slightly eerie meditation on alienation. The Dead South, a Canadian folk‑bluegrass outfit, take that strangeness and relocate it to the prairies. Their banjo‑driven version is playful, off‑kilter and oddly charming. Bluegrass is usually associated with Appalachia, but Canada has its own long tradition of folk, fiddle and acoustic storytelling. The Dead South grew out of that culture, blending it with Americana influences and a taste for the theatrical. Their cover keeps the song’s weirdness intact but gives it a new accent.
The Babbons – “Devil Moon”
A raw, atmospheric track with a moody pulse. The Babbons specialise in dark, rootsy rock with a hint of the occult. Devil Moon feels like a late‑night walk down a road you probably shouldn’t be on — but you keep going anyway.
Dif Juz – “No Motion”
Dif Juz were part of the early 80s 4AD orbit — instrumental, atmospheric, and quietly influential. No Motion is a drifting, echo‑laden piece that feels like a half‑remembered dream. A reminder that post‑punk wasn’t always about sharp edges; sometimes it was about space.
Fatal Blow – “Skinhead Attitude”
Fatal Blow channel the classic UK street‑punk tradition. Skinhead Attitude is loud, proud and unapologetic — a celebration of working‑class identity, defiance and community. Straightforward, punchy and built for live crowds.
José González – “Heartbeats”
Originally by The Knife, González’s acoustic version became the definitive one for many listeners. Sparse, delicate and haunting, it’s a masterclass in how stripping a song back can reveal its emotional core.
The Hawks – “Hana”
A shimmering indie track with a gentle melodic lift. The Hawks blend jangly guitars with wistful vocals, creating something both nostalgic and fresh.
Led Zeppelin – “Kashmir”
A titan of rock. Released in 1975, Kashmir is Zeppelin at their most expansive — orchestral, hypnotic and utterly commanding. A reminder of how far rock music can stretch when ambition meets talent.
Hazel O’Connor – “Will You”
From 1980’s Breaking Glass, Will You remains one of Hazel O’Connor’s most powerful performances. The sax solo alone is worth revisiting. Emotional, tense and beautifully delivered.
Primal Scream – “Rocks Off”
A swaggering, Stones‑infused slice of rock ’n’ roll. Released in 1994, it marked Primal Scream’s shift back toward guitars after their electronic phase. Pure attitude.
Retaliator – “Patriotic Alcoholic”
A raucous, tongue‑in‑cheek punk anthem. Retaliator specialise in rowdy, pub‑ready singalongs, and this one fits the mould perfectly.
History has a habit of tapping us on the shoulder when we least expect it. A reader recently reminded us that Peterloo — that grim, pivotal moment in the long fight for representation — unfolded on 16 August 1819. Tens of thousands gathered in Manchester to demand the vote; cavalry charged; eighteen people died; hundreds were maimed. It’s a stark reminder that the liberties we exercise so casually today were bought at a terrible cost. And that those liberties are never entirely safe — threats come from every direction, dressed in every colour.
So, in the spirit of using what others fought for, we turn again to music: the weekly sprawl of styles, eras and moods that makes this list what it is. A small act of cultural freedom. A small pleasure. A small reminder.
Arcenfall – Don’t Fade Away
A modern metal track with a melodic core, built around the tension between heaviness and vulnerability. Arcenfall lean into atmosphere rather than sheer force, letting the guitars shimmer and swell before the chorus lands. It’s the kind of song that feels like it’s reaching for something — not triumph, exactly, but persistence.
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Into My Arms
One of Cave’s most restrained and devastating pieces. No theatrics, no biblical storms, just a quiet piano and a voice trying to articulate love without illusion. Released in 1997, it became one of his signature songs, partly because it shows the other side of his writing — tenderness without sentimentality.
The Cellmates – Rockabilly Feeling
Rockabilly rarely needs defending. The Cellmates prove why: upright bass thumping, guitars snapping, vocals pitched somewhere between swagger and grin. The genre’s appeal lies in its simplicity — a beat that refuses to sit still and a sound that feels like it’s been passed hand‑to‑hand for generations.
Frontal Boundary – Reset
A sharp, modern rock track built around momentum. Frontal Boundary mix clean production with a slightly abrasive edge, giving the song a sense of urgency. Lyrically it sits in familiar territory — change, frustration, renewal — but the delivery keeps it fresh.
George Frideric Handel – The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba
Written in 1748 as part of Handel’s oratorio Solomon, this short instrumental burst has outlived its original context entirely. It’s bright, quick, and full of ceremonial energy — the kind of piece that seems to lift the room a little. Even people who claim not to like classical music often recognise it instantly.
The Indigo Girls – Midnight Train to Georgia (Live)
A bold choice, given how closely the song is associated with Gladys Knight & the Pips. The Indigo Girls strip away the lush Motown production and rebuild it around harmony and acoustic warmth. Their version feels more intimate, almost conversational, and that shift gives the song a different emotional weight.
Elton John & Kiki Dee – Don’t Go Breaking My Heart
A 1976 duet that became an instant pop landmark. Written as a playful homage to Motown pairings, it works because both singers lean into the fun without losing musical precision. It’s light, catchy, and endlessly replayable — a reminder that not everything needs depth to endure.
My Dying Bride – The 2nd of Three Bells
From one of the UK’s long‑standing doom metal institutions. Slow, deliberate, and steeped in atmosphere, the track shows how My Dying Bride have refined their sound over decades. The interplay between spoken passages and heavy instrumentation gives it a ritualistic feel.
Pink Floyd – Comfortably Numb
A cornerstone of The Wall (1979) and one of the most famous guitar solos ever recorded. The song’s tension — Waters’ bleak narrative against Gilmour’s soaring melody — is what makes it endure. It’s a study in contrast: detachment on one side, transcendence on the other.
Social Distortion – Ring of Fire
Johnny Cash’s classic reimagined through punk‑rock grit. Social Distortion keep the melody but roughen the edges, turning the song into something closer to a bar‑room anthem. Their version has been a staple of their live shows for decades, partly because it bridges genres so neatly.
Stugna – Riž ta Rubaj
Ukrainian folk‑metal with a strong rhythmic pulse. Stugna blend traditional vocal phrasing with modern heaviness, creating a sound that feels rooted yet forward‑leaning. The track’s momentum never really lets up — it’s driven by percussion and a sense of collective voice.
Bonnie Tyler – Sweet Child O’ Mine
Tyler’s husky tone gives the Guns N’ Roses classic a completely different character. Stripped back and acoustic, the song becomes less about swagger and more about texture. Her voice — unmistakable, weathered, powerful — reshapes the melody in ways that feel surprisingly natural.
A week like this deserves something a bit more reflective. Dolly Parton’s passing has left a strange quiet in the cultural landscape — the kind that follows the loss of someone whose work seeped into every corner of popular music. So this midweek selection leans into lineage, influence, and the odd, unexpected connections between artists who would never have shared a stage but somehow share a spirit. Think of it as a small musical map: country royalty, bluegrass revivalists, glam survivors, punk upstarts, metal pioneers, and a few outliers who simply refused to fit neatly into any box.
Dolly Parton – “Jolene”
“Jolene” is one of those songs that feels like it has always existed. Dolly wrote it in 1973, pulling together two real-life inspirations: a red‑haired bank clerk who flirted with her husband, and a young fan whose name — Jolene — struck her as too good not to use. What makes the song endure isn’t jealousy; it’s vulnerability. Dolly doesn’t threaten Jolene, she pleads with her. That emotional honesty was unusual in country music at the time, which often favoured stoicism over confession.
The track’s minimalist arrangement — just guitar, voice, and a heartbeat rhythm — gives Dolly nowhere to hide. Her vocal line circles the same melodic shape, tightening the tension with each repetition of the name. It’s hypnotic, almost incantatory. The song became a crossover hit, climbing charts in the US, UK, and beyond, and has since been covered in almost every genre imaginable.
“Jolene” also marks a turning point in Dolly’s career. It’s the moment she stepped out from behind the Nashville machine and asserted her own songwriting identity. The track’s simplicity is deceptive; beneath it lies a masterclass in emotional storytelling. It remains one of the most covered songs in modern music for a reason — it’s universal, raw, and utterly unforgettable.
Eric Burdon & War – “Paint It Black” (Live)
Eric Burdon has always had a knack for taking other people’s songs and dragging them somewhere darker, stranger, and more theatrical. His live version of “Paint It Black” with War is a perfect example. The Rolling Stones’ original is already steeped in dread, but Burdon pushes it further into psychedelic territory, stretching the song out and letting it breathe in long, smoky phrases. It becomes less a rock anthem and more a ritual — a performance that feels like it’s happening in real time, on the edge of chaos.
War’s presence transforms the track. Their jazz‑funk sensibilities give the song a rhythmic looseness that the Stones never aimed for. The percussion is restless, the bass lines coil around Burdon’s vocals, and the horns add flashes of colour that contrast sharply with the song’s bleak lyrics. It’s a collision of styles that shouldn’t work but absolutely does, precisely because neither side tries to dominate the other.
The result is a version that feels alive — unpredictable, raw, and defiantly unpolished. Burdon doesn’t just cover “Paint It Black”; he reimagines it as a sprawling, feverish performance piece. It’s one of those live recordings that reminds you how different a song can become when the right musicians get hold of it.
Generation X – “King Rocker”
“King Rocker” is Generation X at their most exuberant — a burst of late‑70s punk energy that refuses to be boxed into the genre’s usual nihilism. Billy Idol and Tony James wrote it as a kind of tongue‑in‑cheek tribute to rock mythology, but the song’s real charm lies in its sheer momentum. It’s fast, bright, and melodic, with a chorus built for shouting along in sweaty clubs. Punk was splintering into sub‑scenes by 1979, but Generation X were one of the few bands who kept the pop sensibility intact.
The track’s production is surprisingly clean for the era. Producer Ian Hunter (of Mott the Hoople fame) gave the band a bigger, more polished sound than most punk acts were willing to accept. Instead of muddy guitars and lo‑fi grit, “King Rocker” has crisp riffs, tight harmonies, and a rhythm section that drives the song forward like a runaway train. It’s punk with ambition — a sign of where Idol would eventually go as a solo artist.
What makes the song endure is its attitude. It’s cheeky without being smug, energetic without being chaotic, and catchy without sacrificing edge. “King Rocker” sits at the crossroads between punk and the emerging new wave movement, capturing a moment when British music was shifting gears. It still sounds fresh, and still makes you want to move.
Godflesh – “Like Rats”
“Like Rats” is one of the defining tracks of early industrial metal — a genre Godflesh didn’t just participate in, but effectively invented. Released in 1989, the song is built around crushing repetition: a drum machine pounding like factory machinery, guitars tuned so low they feel subterranean, and Justin Broadrick’s vocals delivered as a kind of distorted bark. It’s not meant to be pretty. It’s meant to overwhelm, to confront, to drag the listener into a world stripped of comfort.
The track’s power comes from its minimalism. Godflesh weren’t interested in speed or technical showmanship; they wanted weight. Every riff lands like a slab of concrete. The drum programming is deliberately mechanical, emphasising the dehumanisation at the heart of the band’s aesthetic. Broadrick’s lyrics — bleak, accusatory, almost abstract — reinforce the sense of alienation. It’s music that feels like it was built in a warehouse at 3am.
“Like Rats” became hugely influential, shaping the sound of bands from Nine Inch Nails to Fear Factory. But even decades later, the original still feels uniquely oppressive. It’s a reminder of how powerful simplicity can be when wielded with intent. Godflesh didn’t just play heavy music; they redefined what heaviness could mean.
Ikazuchi – “Violence Nocturne”
Ikazuchi operate in the extreme fringes of metal — a space where speed, intensity, and atmosphere collide. “Violence Nocturne” is a blistering example of their approach: a track that erupts immediately, offering no gentle introduction and no respite. The guitars are a blur, the drums sound like they’re trying to outrun themselves, and the vocals are delivered with a ferocity that borders on the ritualistic. It’s not music designed for casual listening; it’s music that demands surrender.
The song’s structure is surprisingly disciplined beneath the chaos. Ikazuchi weave melodic threads through the noise, creating moments of eerie clarity that flash by before being swallowed again. There’s a strong lineage to early Japanese black metal here — bands who fused Western influences with their own sense of theatricality and atmosphere. “Violence Nocturne” feels like a continuation of that tradition, but sharper and more modern.
What stands out most is the mood. The track feels nocturnal, feral, and strangely ceremonial. It’s the kind of song that creates its own environment — a dark, swirling space where speed becomes texture and aggression becomes art. Ikazuchi may not be widely known, but this track shows exactly why they have a cult following.
Demi Lovato – “Heart Attack”
“Heart Attack” marked a turning point for Demi Lovato, pushing her further into pop‑rock territory while showcasing the vocal power that would become her trademark. Released in 2013, the song is built around emotional tension: the fear of vulnerability, the instinct to armour oneself, and the explosive release that comes when those defences crack. It’s polished, radio‑ready pop — but with a rawness that sets it apart from many of its contemporaries.
The production leans heavily on contrast. The verses are tight and controlled, almost clipped, while the chorus erupts with layered vocals and sharp guitar accents. Lovato’s voice carries the song, shifting from breathy restraint to full‑throttle belting in seconds. It’s a performance that feels both technically impressive and emotionally honest, capturing the push‑and‑pull of the lyrics.
“Heart Attack” became one of Lovato’s biggest hits, cementing her place in the wave of early‑2010s pop artists who blended rock elements into mainstream production. It’s still one of her strongest singles — a track that balances vulnerability with power, and polish with personality.
Midnight Oil – “Beds Are Burning” (Live)
“Beds Are Burning” is one of the most politically charged songs to ever break into mainstream charts, and Midnight Oil’s live performances only amplify its urgency. Written as a protest against the treatment of Indigenous Australians, the song demands justice with a directness that few bands have ever matched. Peter Garrett’s stage presence — towering, intense, almost preacher‑like — turns the track into a rallying cry rather than a mere performance.
Live, the song gains a harder edge. The guitars bite more, the rhythm section hits with greater force, and the crowd’s energy becomes part of the arrangement. Midnight Oil were always a band who treated concerts as political gatherings, and “Beds Are Burning” is the moment where that ethos becomes unmistakable. The chorus lands like a chant, something meant to be shouted collectively rather than sung alone.
The song’s legacy is enormous. It remains one of the most recognisable protest songs of the 20th century, and its message hasn’t softened with time. In live form, it becomes even more potent — a reminder that music can be both entertainment and activism, and that Midnight Oil excelled at being both simultaneously.
Paradise Lost – “Embers Fire”
“Embers Fire” sits at a crucial moment in Paradise Lost’s evolution — the early‑90s period when they were transitioning from death‑doom pioneers into gothic metal innovators. Released in 1993, the track blends heaviness with melody in a way that would later define the genre. The guitars are thick and atmospheric, the tempo steady and deliberate, and Nick Holmes’ vocals carry a weary, almost resigned tone that fits the song’s themes perfectly.
The production is unmistakably early‑90s: dense, warm, and slightly murky, giving the track a sense of weight without sacrificing clarity. Paradise Lost were experimenting with more accessible structures at this point, and “Embers Fire” shows how effectively they could balance aggression with introspection. The chorus is surprisingly catchy, rising out of the gloom with a melodic hook that lingers long after the song ends.
The track’s influence is hard to overstate. Paradise Lost helped shape the sound of European gothic metal, and “Embers Fire” is one of the songs that cemented their reputation. It’s heavy, atmospheric, and emotionally rich — a perfect example of how metal can explore melancholy without losing its bite.
The Hawks – “Farther Up The Road”
The Hawks are one of those bands who seem to exist in the margins — half‑remembered, barely documented, yet unmistakably compelling. Their version of “Farther Up The Road” taps into the long lineage of blues standards that travelled from Texas roadhouses to British clubs and back again. The song itself dates to 1957, first recorded by Bobby “Blue” Bland, whose smooth phrasing helped define modern soul‑blues.
What The Hawks do is strip away the polish and push the track back toward its rougher roots. Their arrangement leans heavily on groove: a driving rhythm section, guitar lines that snap like live wires, and a vocal delivery that feels more like a barroom confession than a studio performance. There’s a looseness to it — not sloppy, but lived‑in — the kind of feel you only get from musicians who’ve spent years playing to half‑lit rooms.
The result is a version that doesn’t try to outshine Bland’s original but instead reframes it. It’s blues filtered through rock, filtered through instinct. You can hear the lineage, but you can also hear the band’s own personality pushing through. It’s impossible not to nod along.
The Dead South – “House of the Rising Sun”
“House of the Rising Sun” is one of those songs with a murky past — a folk standard with roots stretching back to the 19th century, passed from singer to singer until The Animals electrified it in 1964 and stamped it into rock history. The Dead South take it somewhere else entirely. Their Canadian bluegrass background gives the song a different kind of darkness: not urban grit, but rural fatalism.
Their arrangement leans on banjo, cello, and tight vocal harmonies, creating a sound that feels both old and strangely modern. The tempo is brisker than The Animals’ version, but the mood remains heavy. Instead of the famous organ line, we get strings that scrape and surge, giving the song a raw, almost Appalachian edge. It’s a reminder that folk songs are meant to be reshaped — they survive because they evolve.
What stands out most is the vocal delivery. The Dead South don’t imitate Eric Burdon; they inhabit the song’s narrative. The result is a cover that feels less like homage and more like reclamation. It’s a version that understands the song’s roots and digs deeper into them.
Dolores O’Riordan – “Go Your Own Way”
Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” is a breakup anthem forged in the emotional chaos of the Rumours sessions. Lindsey Buckingham wrote it with sharp edges — bitterness, frustration, and a kind of defiant swagger. Dolores O’Riordan’s cover softens none of that. Instead, she filters it through her unmistakable Irish phrasing, giving the song a new emotional texture.
Dolores had a gift for turning vulnerability into strength. Her voice, with its fragile upper register and sudden bursts of power, reshapes the song’s emotional landscape. Where Buckingham sounded accusatory, Dolores sounds resolute — not angry, but done. The Cranberries’ influence is audible in the arrangement: chiming guitars, open space, and a rhythm section that supports rather than dominates.
Her death in 2018 cast a long shadow over her catalogue, but this cover remains one of her most striking reinterpretations. It’s a reminder of how she could take a song everyone knew and make it feel personal, intimate, and unmistakably hers.
The Sweet – “The Six Teens”
By the mid‑70s, The Sweet were shedding their bubblegum skin and moving toward a heavier, more ambitious sound. “The Six Teens,” released in 1974, sits right at that crossroads. It’s glam, but not glittery; melodic, but not lightweight. The song tells the story of a generation caught between idealism and reality — teenagers growing up in a world that promised change but delivered compromise.
Andy Scott’s guitar work is superb here: sharp, controlled, and full of character. Brian Connolly’s vocal performance carries a kind of wistful urgency, as if he’s singing about people he actually knew. The harmonies — always The Sweet’s secret weapon — lift the chorus into something anthemic without tipping into bombast. It’s a song that feels both of its time and strangely timeless.
With only Andy Scott still alive, the track has taken on a bittersweet quality. But it also stands as proof of how good The Sweet really were once they took control of their own sound. “The Six Teens” isn’t just a great glam track; it’s one of the era’s most thoughtful pieces of songwriting.
Welcome to the last Midweek Song List of August — and what a month it’s been. As ever, our readers keep us on our toes. At the start of August, one long‑time follower reminded us of the 80th anniversary of the King David Hotel bombing in Jerusalem. The same reader has now added another grim footnote: Menachem Begin — later Prime Minister of Israel — was also responsible for the kidnapping and hanging of two young British sergeants, Clifford Martin and Mervyn Paice, in July 1947. Both men were unarmed, off‑duty, and simply visiting a café. Their bodies were later strung up in a eucalyptus grove with a booby‑trap mine set beneath them. Our reader believes both men were from Belfast and hopes to confirm more details soon.
With that sombre history lesson out of the way, let’s lift the mood with our traditional mixed bag of music — a selection that goes out midweek on Facebook and later appears on our website in a slightly different written style, but always with the same eclectic choices.
THE SONGS
2e REP – “Le Diable Marche Avec Nous”
If “Le Boudin” is the Foreign Legion’s famous march, then this is its darker, more aggressive cousin. “Le Diable Marche Avec Nous” (“The Devil Walks With Us”) is associated with the 2nd Foreign Parachute Regiment — the elite airborne unit forged in Indochina, Algeria and later Chad. The song’s origins lie in Legion folklore: hard marching, brutal campaigns, and the idea that the regiment carries its own demons into battle. Musically, it’s a driving, percussive chant — the kind that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck even if your French is as bad as ours.
Cocteau Twins – “Evangeline”
Released in 1993, “Evangeline” is one of the Cocteau Twins’ most shimmering dream‑pop creations. Elizabeth Fraser’s vocals — half‑lyric, half‑incantation — float over Robin Guthrie’s lush guitar textures. The band formed in Grangemouth in 1979 and became pioneers of ethereal, atmospheric music. “Evangeline” captures their mature sound: wistful, weightless, and emotionally ambiguous. A perfect contrast to the military thunder of the Legion.
Criminal Class – “Fighting The System”
A slice of raw, early‑80s British Oi! from Coventry. Criminal Class formed in 1979 and were part of the second wave of street‑punk bands. “Fighting The System” is exactly what it says on the tin: a snarling, defiant anthem built on chanted vocals and driving bass. It’s rough, uncompromising, and politically charged — a reminder of the era when punk was still dangerous.
The Kinks – “Sunny Afternoon”
Released in 1966, this Ray Davies classic is one of the great British pop songs of the decade. Written during a period of tax disputes and personal frustration, Davies channels his irritation into a lazy, sun‑drenched melody. The track topped the UK charts and became a defining moment in The Kinks’ shift toward more observational, character‑driven songwriting. A timeless tune that still feels like a cold drink on a hot day.
Ocean Colour Scene – “The Day We Caught The Train”
From their 1996 breakthrough album Moseley Shoals, this Britpop anthem remains one of OCS’s most beloved songs. It’s nostalgic, melodic, and full of that mid‑90s optimism. The track reached No. 4 in the UK charts and helped cement the band’s place in the Britpop landscape. A perfect sing‑along for late summer.
Robyn – “Always”
Robyn has spent decades redefining pop music, and “Always” is another example of her ability to blend melancholy with dance‑floor energy. Released in 2020 as part of her collaboration with Yaeji, it’s a shimmering electronic track built on repetition, longing, and Robyn’s unmistakable emotional clarity. Modern pop at its most elegant.
Social Distortion – “Ring Of Fire”
Johnny Cash’s 1963 classic gets a punk‑rock makeover courtesy of Social Distortion. Their 1990 cover is louder, faster, and full of swagger — yet still respectful of the original’s melody. Social Distortion formed in 1978 and remain one of America’s most enduring punk bands. Their live shows are legendary, and this track is often a highlight.
Sol Heilo – “Rock Paper Scissors”
Norwegian multi‑instrumentalist Sol Heilo (formerly of Katzenjammer) released this track in 2017. It’s quirky, melodic, and full of her trademark folk‑pop inventiveness. The song blends vulnerability with playfulness, using the childhood game as a metaphor for emotional conflict. A beautifully crafted piece of Scandinavian songwriting.
The Dead Flowers Graves – “Prophetia”
Italian doom metal with atmosphere to spare. The Dead Flowers Graves formed in 2017 and specialise in slow, heavy, ritualistic soundscapes. “Prophetia” is a perfect example: deep riffs, funereal pacing, and a sense of looming dread. Doom metal at its finest — and yes, we’re getting more into it as we get older and slower.
The Valvetones – “The Chance I’ll Have To Take”
A modern rockabilly track with classic 1950s DNA. The Valvetones channel the spirit of Sun Records — slap‑back echo, upright bass, and heartfelt vocals. “The Chance I’ll Have To Take” is a bittersweet love song built on simple, effective storytelling. A gem for fans of vintage‑style Americana.
Kanye West – “Heartless”
Released in 2008 on 808s & Heartbreak, “Heartless” marked a major shift in Kanye’s sound. Built on auto‑tuned vocals and minimalist production, the track explores loneliness, betrayal, and emotional numbness. It became one of his biggest hits and influenced a generation of artists who embraced vulnerability in hip‑hop.
White Lion – “Broken Heart”
A classic slice of 1980s glam metal. White Lion formed in 1983 and blended melodic hooks with big guitar solos. “Broken Heart” first appeared on their 1985 debut and was later re‑recorded in 1991. It’s pure hair‑metal drama: soaring vocals, emotional lyrics, and a chorus built for arenas. A perfect counterpoint to the doom metal earlier in the list.
CONCLUSION
That wraps up the final Midweek Song List of August. As always, this selection goes out first on Facebook midweek — raw, immediate, conversational — and later appears on our website with a slightly different write‑up but the same eclectic mix. Thanks to everyone who sends suggestions, history lessons, and musical rabbit holes. Keep them coming.
Many of our readers know that Counter Culture has always been as interested in musical history as in the music itself. The two are inseparable: every song carries a lineage, every band emerges from a scene, and every scene grows out of a cultural moment.
This week’s list reflects that. We’ve been thinking a lot about UK fanzines, papers and magazines — the lifeblood of grassroots music culture. Before social media, these publications were how fans discovered new bands, argued about genres, and built entire subcultures.
We’ve already noted the big national titles — Melody Maker, New Musical Express and Sounds — plus the legendary punk fanzine Sniffin’ Glue and Other Rock ’N’ Roll Habits. But we know there were dozens more: regional punk sheets, goth newsletters, metal quarterlies, folk journals, indie zines, and everything in between. If anyone can help expand this list, we’d be delighted.
With that in mind, here’s this week’s selection — moving freely between punk, country folk, disco‑turned‑alt‑rock, glam, industrial, black metal and more. As always, the joy is in the contrasts.
Ad Hominem – Totalitarian Black Metal
Ad Hominem emerged in the early 2000s as part of the second wave of European black metal, a movement defined by raw production, ideological provocation and a deliberate rejection of mainstream metal aesthetics. The project is largely the work of Kaiser, a French multi‑instrumentalist who favours harsh, martial rhythms and deliberately confrontational themes. Totalitarian Black Metal is one of his signature tracks: cold, repetitive, and intentionally abrasive. It sits firmly within the lineage of bands like Marduk, Darkthrone and Gorgoroth, but with a distinctly French sense of nihilism. For listeners trying to understand black metal, this track shows the genre’s fascination with extremity — musically, aesthetically and philosophically.
Oliver Anthony – Take Me Home, Country Roads
John Denver’s 1971 original is one of the most recognisable American folk‑country songs ever written — a nostalgic hymn to rural life that became an unofficial anthem for West Virginia. Oliver Anthony’s version slows the tempo dramatically, stripping away Denver’s bright optimism and replacing it with something more weathered, intimate and emotionally heavy. Anthony rose to prominence through viral recordings made in rural settings, often accompanied only by his resonator guitar. His reading of Country Roads feels closer to Appalachian porch music than Nashville polish — a reminder that great songs can be reinterpreted as personal statements rather than museum pieces.
Cake – I Will Survive
Gloria Gaynor’s 1978 disco classic is one of the great empowerment anthems — bold, brassy and defiantly upbeat. Cake’s 1996 cover turns the entire concept on its head. Where Gaynor belts, Cake mutters. Where disco strings soar, Cake inserts dry trumpet lines, clipped guitar and a funk‑rock shuffle. The band, formed in Sacramento in the early 90s, became known for their deadpan delivery and minimalist arrangements. Their version of I Will Survive is almost anti‑heroic — a slacker’s survival anthem — and it became one of their most recognisable tracks. It’s a perfect example of how 90s alternative bands loved to deconstruct the pop canon.
Chelsea – Twelve Men
Chelsea were part of the first wave of British punk, forming in London in 1976. Frontman Gene October was a key figure in the early scene, helping establish the punk club The Roxy and giving the movement a physical home. The original lineup included Billy Idol (then William Broad) on guitar, Tony James on bass and John Towe on drums — three musicians who would soon leave to form Generation X, one of the most commercially successful punk bands of the late 70s. Twelve Men captures Chelsea’s raw, street‑level sound: fast, jagged and unvarnished. It’s a reminder that punk wasn’t just a musical style — it was a network of people who moved between bands, clubs and fanzines, shaping a cultural moment that still resonates.
Death In Rome – Love Will Tear Us Apart
Death In Rome specialise in neofolk reinterpretations of famous pop and rock songs, often transforming them into dark, melancholic acoustic pieces. Their cover of Joy Division’s 1980 classic is one of their most striking. Where the original is icy, post‑punk and emotionally fractured, Death In Rome’s version leans into European dark folk traditions — minor‑key guitar, martial percussion and a sense of ritualistic solemnity. It’s not a parody; it’s a reframing. Joy Division’s despair becomes something older, almost mythic, as though the song has been unearthed from a forgotten folk tradition rather than Manchester’s Factory Records.
Riley Green – Think As You Drunk
Riley Green is part of the modern neo‑traditional country movement — artists who blend contemporary Nashville production with the storytelling sensibilities of 80s and 90s country. Think As You Drunk fits neatly into that lineage: conversational lyrics, a touch of humour, and a melody that feels instantly familiar. Green’s work often explores small‑town life, personal flaws and emotional honesty, and this track continues that tradition with a wink and a nod.
Paul Heaton – Favourite Kind Of Idiot
Paul Heaton has one of the most distinctive careers in British pop: first with The Housemartins, then with The Beautiful South, and later as a solo artist. His songwriting blends sharp social observation with dry humour and a melodic sensibility rooted in classic British pop. Favourite Kind Of Idiot showcases Heaton’s trademark lyrical wit — affectionate, exasperated and politically aware without ever becoming preachy. Musically, it continues his long tradition of pairing upbeat arrangements with bittersweet themes.
Little Mix & David Guetta – Heartbreak Anthem
Released in 2021, Heartbreak Anthem is a collaboration between Little Mix, French DJ David Guetta, and Swedish producer Galantis. It arrived during a transitional moment for Little Mix, shortly after Jesy Nelson’s departure, and became one of their biggest late‑career hits. The track blends Euro‑dance production, polished vocal harmonies and a message of resilience — not wallowing in heartbreak but acknowledging it and moving forward. It’s a reminder of how seamlessly modern pop can merge UK vocal groups with continental dance producers.
The Monochrome Set – Jacob’s Ladder
Formed in 1978, The Monochrome Set were part of the post‑punk and art‑pop landscape that grew out of the collapse of punk’s first wave. Their music was witty, literate and stylistically eclectic — closer to the Velvet Underground or early Television than to the more abrasive post‑punk acts. Jacob’s Ladder shows their flair for angular guitar lines, arch lyricism and a kind of detached elegance. They never achieved major commercial success, but their influence on indie pop — especially the C86 generation — is substantial.
Nimrod – Night Of The Witches
Nimrod were a short‑lived but intriguing British hard rock outfit active in the late 70s. Their sound sits somewhere between proto‑metal, occult rock and the theatrical edge of early NWOBHM. Night Of The Witches is a cult favourite: riff‑driven, melodramatic and steeped in the era’s fascination with supernatural imagery. Bands like Nimrod helped bridge the gap between 70s hard rock and the heavier, faster metal that would explode in the early 80s.
Sweet – The Ballroom Blitz
Sweet were one of the defining bands of British glam rock, though they’re still underrated compared to contemporaries like Slade or T. Rex. Released in 1973, The Ballroom Blitz is based on a real incident: the band were bottled offstage during a gig in Scotland. Rather than sulk, they turned the chaos into a theatrical, high‑energy anthem. The harmonies are extraordinary — especially the soaring high notes — and the track’s mix of bubblegum pop, hard rock and camp theatrics became a blueprint for glam’s entire aesthetic. It remains one of the great live‑wire singles of the era.
Throbbing Gristle – Don’t Do As You’re Told, Do As You Think
Throbbing Gristle were pioneers of industrial music, forming in 1975 out of the performance art collective COUM Transmissions. Their work challenged every convention of rock: noise over melody, provocation over comfort, experimentation over accessibility. Don’t Do As You’re Told, Do As You Think encapsulates their ethos — anti‑authoritarian, confrontational and sonically abrasive. TG’s influence on later industrial, electronic and experimental artists is immeasurable. They didn’t just create a genre; they created a philosophy.
Apologies for the late appearance of this week’s list. In the hectic, slightly delirious chaos of the Edinburgh Fringe — three of us darting between venues, scribbling notes in cafés, and trying to keep our heads above the tidal wave of shows — this one slipped past us. August always feels like running a marathon with a notebook, but we’re here now, and the music is worth the wait. And, in our defence the list was put up in timely fashion on Facebook and we did a Fringe special inspired by the great, foot-stomping Rockbeth.
Last week we joked about shops quietly replacing summer stock with woolly jumpers. Since then, Home Bargains has gone one better and unveiled a full aisle of autumn decorations. At this rate, Christmas might appear before we’ve even finished reviewing the Fringe. Place your bets.
A long‑time reader also reminded us that the 22nd of last month marked the 80th anniversary of the bombing of the King David Hotel in Jerusalem — a grim, complicated moment in the history of the British Mandate. Ninety‑one people were killed, dozens more injured, and the man behind the attack, Menachem Begin, would later become Prime Minister of Israel. History rarely behaves the way you expect it to.
Enough darkness. Time for the music to lift the mood — and this week’s selection is a proper mixed bag.
Ambrose Slade – “Wild Winds Are Blowing”
Before Slade became the glitter‑soaked giants of Glam, they were Ambrose Slade: a sharp, skinhead‑leaning outfit with a raw edge. “Wild Winds Are Blowing” came out in October 1969, written by Bob Saker and Jack Winsley. It didn’t chart, but it’s a fascinating glimpse of the band before fame reshaped them.
Artillery – “In Your Mind”
From early English skinheads to Danish thrash metal. Artillery formed in the early ’80s and have refused to slow down. “In Your Mind,” from their 2021 album X, shows exactly why they’ve endured — tight riffs, muscular rhythm, and a band still hungry after four decades.
The Casuals – “Jesamine”
A complete change of pace. “Jesamine” is one of those late‑’60s pop gems that seems to float rather than play — wistful, melodic, and beautifully arranged. It’s the sort of song that reminds you how much craft went into the era’s quieter hits.
Ella Langley – “Hungover”
A modern slice of country with a smoky, lived‑in feel. Ella Langley has a knack for making heartbreak sound conversational rather than theatrical, and “Hungover” is one of her strongest examples.
Kelly Llorenna – “Tell It To My Heart”
Kelly Llorenna’s take on the Taylor Dayne classic is pure ’90s/early‑2000s dancefloor nostalgia — bright, bold, and built to get people moving.
M People – “Search for the Hero”
A song that’s become part of Britain’s cultural wallpaper. Heather Small’s voice carries the whole thing with that unmistakable warmth and determination.
Sarah McLachlan – “Answer”
McLachlan specialises in quiet emotional devastation, and “Answer” is one of her most delicate pieces — introspective, steady, and beautifully phrased.
Peter & The Test Tube Babies – “The Jynx ” (Live)
Back to England and into punk. Peter & The Test Tube Babies were fixtures of the late ’70s scene, known for humour, chaos, and a refusal to take themselves too seriously. “The Jynx” live is exactly what you’d expect: scruffy, energetic, and oddly charming.
Olivia Rodrigo – “Drop Dead”
Rodrigo’s knack for blending pop hooks with punkish bite is on full display here. “Drop Dead” is sharp, theatrical, and full of the emotional whiplash she’s built her career on.
Retaliator – “Green, Green Grass of Home”
An Oi‑infused take on a classic. Retaliator’s version is loud, proud, and guaranteed to get a crowd roaring along.
Sandie Shaw – “Sympathy For The Devil”
A fascinating cover — Shaw’s voice brings a different kind of cool detachment to the Stones’ classic. It’s always interesting hearing a familiar song refracted through a completely different performer.
Sweet – “Blockbuster”
A Glam anthem from the early ’70s, complete with its famous siren. Sweet were masters of theatrical pop, and “Blockbuster” remains one of their most recognisable hits.
We’ll be taking a short break next week — Fringe duties are relentless — so if all goes well, the next list will appear on Wednesday the 19th.
Summer is doing that strange British thing again — the calendar insists we’re still in July, yet the shops are already pushing woolly jumpers like they know something we don’t. Maybe they do. Maybe they don’t. Either way, we’ll keep our feet planted firmly in the present and enjoy what’s left of the season.
A long‑time reader got in touch this week with two history‑soaked festivals worth mentioning. The 140th Durham Miners’ Gala, held on 11th July, remains one of the world’s great celebrations of trade union values and working‑class life — a living, breathing reminder that solidarity isn’t just a slogan. And down in Dorset, the Tolpuddle Martyrs’ Festival honoured six men who dared to organise for fair pay in 1834, only to be arrested and transported to Australia for seven years. Their courage still echoes.
We’ll return to both festivals in future features. For now, let’s get back to the music — and this week’s list is a wonderfully odd mix of the hypnotic, the heavy, the nostalgic and the downright iconic.
Angine de Poitrine – ‘Sarniezz’
A masked Quebecois duo who look like they’ve escaped from a surrealist cabaret and sound like they’re broadcasting from another dimension. Angine de Poitrine emerged from Montreal’s underground art scene, blending electronic pulses with theatrical absurdism. ‘Sarniezz’ is hypnotic, looping, and slightly unsettling — the kind of track that feels like performance art disguised as music. They’re weird, yes, but compellingly so.
Anonymous Ulster – ‘PADDY (Blair Mayne)’
A tribute to Lt. Col. Blair “Paddy” Mayne — one of the most decorated soldiers in British military history and a founding member of the SAS. Anonymous Ulster’s track is raw, proud and steeped in regional identity. It’s part folk‑punk, part battlefield ballad, capturing the mythic aura surrounding Mayne while refusing to sand down the rough edges.
Down ‘N’ Outz – ‘Rock and Roll Queen’
Joe Elliott’s side project pays homage to Mott the Hoople with swagger and affection. Down ‘N’ Outz formed as a love letter to 70s glam rock, and ‘Rock and Roll Queen’ is a reminder of how gloriously messy, loud and joyful that era could be. It’s a celebration rather than a reinvention — and sometimes that’s exactly what a song needs to be.
Natalie Imbruglia – ‘Torn’
A 90s classic that refuses to age. Originally written by Ednaswap, ‘Torn’ became a global phenomenon when Natalie Imbruglia recorded it in 1997. Her version — shimmering, vulnerable, and quietly devastating — turned her into an international star. It’s one of those rare songs that captures emotional disorientation with perfect clarity.
Motörhead – ‘God Save The Queen’
Lemmy covering the Sex Pistols is exactly as chaotic and brilliant as you’d expect. Released in 2000, Motörhead’s version is heavier, faster, and somehow even more confrontational than the original. It’s a meeting of two titans of British counterculture — punk’s sneer and metal’s roar colliding in glorious fashion.
Dolly Parton (featuring Ladysmith Black Mambazo) – ‘Peace Train’
Dolly Parton covering Cat Stevens is already a treat, but adding Ladysmith Black Mambazo elevates the track into something transcendent. Recorded for her 1996 album Treasures, this version blends Appalachian warmth with South African choral richness. It’s hopeful, expansive, and proof that Dolly can inhabit any genre she touches. As big Dolly Fans we are looking forward to seeing The Dolly Parton Story at the Edinburgh Fringe 2026!
Elvis Presley – ‘If I Can Dream’
Recorded in 1968 in the wake of Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, ‘If I Can Dream’ is Elvis at his most earnest and politically engaged. Written specifically for his ’68 Comeback Special, the song channels gospel, soul and raw emotion. It remains one of his most powerful performances — a plea for unity delivered by a man rediscovering his voice.
The Sensational Alex Harvey Band – ‘Delilah’
A theatrical, swaggering reinvention of Tom Jones’s classic. Alex Harvey’s version, released in 1975, turns the song into a rock‑cabaret fever dream — dramatic, tongue‑in‑cheek, and utterly unforgettable. It’s a reminder of how fearless and eccentric Harvey was as a performer.
The Smashing Pumpkins – ‘1979’
A nostalgic masterpiece from the band’s 1995 album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. Billy Corgan wrote ‘1979’ as a reflection on suburban adolescence — the drifting, the boredom, the fleeting moments of freedom. It’s dreamy, understated, and remains one of the band’s most beloved songs.
They Might Be Giants – ‘Boss Of Me’
Best known as the theme for Malcolm in the Middle, this track is a perfect example of Ska‑Punk’s upbeat fusion of brass, guitars and controlled chaos. They Might Be Giants have always been delightfully off‑centre, and ‘Boss Of Me’ captures their playful, clever energy in under two minutes.
Bonnie Tyler – ‘Total Eclipse Of The Heart’
A towering 1983 power ballad written by Jim Steinman, whose theatrical style suited Bonnie Tyler’s husky voice perfectly. Born Gaynor Hopkins in Skewen, Wales, Tyler became known as “Britain’s First Lady of Rock.” This song — dramatic, soaring, unapologetically huge — cemented her place in music history.
Warning – ‘Footprints’
A cornerstone of British doom metal. Warning’s 2006 album Watching from a Distance is revered for its emotional weight, and ‘Footprints’ is one of its most devastating tracks. Slow, deliberate, and drenched in melancholy, it shows how doom metal can be as introspective as it is heavy.
Songlist Specials – themed collections exploring particular scenes or eras:
We’ve always said Counter Culture is as much about history as it is about music, and this month that’s been impossible to ignore. The Battle of the Somme began 110 years ago, on 1 July 1916, and the scale of loss still has the power to stop you in your tracks. Very few British units reached their objectives on that first day; the 36th (Ulster) Division was one of the exceptions, though the cost was appalling. More than 2,000 men killed on 1 July alone, and roughly 5,500 casualties within forty‑eight hours. Their sacrifice is marked today by the Ulster Tower at Thiepval — a quiet, stark reminder of what was spent in those fields.
With that in mind, we turn to music not as escapism, but as a way of lifting the spirits without forgetting the weight of the past. This week’s list is a proper spread: rockabilly oddities, neofolk underground, chart‑topping ballads, 60s pop, glam rock tenderness, and even a frog with a banjo. Variety is the point.
THE SONGS
The Baboons – “Drinkin’ Gasoline”
Belgium’s Baboons have always been a curious outfit — rockabilly at heart, but with a scruffy garage edge that keeps them from ever sounding nostalgic. “Drinkin’ Gasoline” is one of their rowdier numbers, all swagger and twang, the sort of track that feels like it’s been recorded in a bar where the walls sweat.
Blue Man Group – “I Feel Love”
Blue Man Group sit somewhere between performance art, percussion ensemble and fever dream. Their take on Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” is exactly what you’d expect: metallic rhythms, alien‑blue faces, and a strange hypnotic pulse. Compared to them, Kermit really is the conservative option.
Celine Dion – “My Heart Will Go On”
The song that swallowed the late 90s whole. Written by James Horner and Will Jennings, and delivered with Dion’s trademark emotional precision, it became one of the best‑selling singles of all time. Whatever you think of Titanic, this track is a masterclass in the power‑ballad tradition.
Tim Hardin – “Reason to Believe”
Hardin’s songwriting has a fragility that few artists ever manage. “Reason to Believe” has been covered endlessly — Rod Stewart made it famous — but Hardin’s original remains the most affecting. Sparse, wounded, and utterly sincere.
Don Henley – “Boys of Summer”
Henley’s solo masterpiece. Co‑written with Mike Campbell of Tom Petty’s band, it’s a song about ageing, longing, and the ghosts of summers past. Synths, melancholy, and one of the great choruses of the 80s.
Tommy James & The Shondells – “I Think We’re Alone Now”
Before Tiffany turned it into a mall‑pop anthem in 1987, Tommy James delivered the original in 1967 — a bright, slightly psychedelic slice of American pop that climbed to No. 4 in the US charts. A reminder that the 60s weren’t all guitars and protest songs.
Elton John – “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word”
One of Elton’s most restrained and heartbreaking ballads. Released in 1976, written with Bernie Taupin, and built around a simple piano line that carries the whole emotional weight. A song about regret that never slips into melodrama.
Kermit the Frog – “Rainbow Connection”
Jim Henson’s gentle, searching voice made this song an unlikely chart success, reaching No. 25 in 1979. Written by Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher, it’s become a modern standard — wistful, hopeful, and strangely profound for a puppet with a banjo.
Morrissey – “It’s Over”
Morrissey’s 2019 cover of the Roy Orbison classic appears on California Son, an album of reinterpretations. He leans into the drama of the song, giving it a sweeping, orchestral sadness.
Billy Odal (featuring Death in Rome) – “Connewitz”
Death in Rome have built a cult following by reimagining pop songs as neofolk dirges. Here they lend their shadowy aesthetic to Billy Odal, producing something atmospheric, unsettling, and oddly beautiful.
Mark Ronson & Miley Cyrus – “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart”
Ronson’s production meets Cyrus’s gravel‑edged vocal in a track that blends country, disco, and heartbreak. Released in 2018, it’s one of the strongest singles either artist has put out in years.
Slade – “Everyday”
A request from a long‑time reader. Slade began life as a skinhead band before becoming glam rock royalty, but “Everyday” shows a different side of them. Noddy Holder’s voice — usually associated with riotous choruses — proves surprisingly tender here.
A QUESTION TO END ON
Kermit reached the US Top 25 with “Rainbow Connection”. Can you think of another unusual song from a puppet‑related film or TV show that managed to chart as a single? Answers welcome — the stranger the better.
Songlist Specials – themed collections exploring particular scenes or eras:
Regular readers will know we’ve been knee‑deep in the Battle of the Somme lately. We’ll pick that thread up again next week, but while the Great War is still echoing in the background, have a look at this remarkable interview.
Last Sunday — 12th July — carried its own historical weight. England quietly celebrated its 1099th birthday, the moment in 927 AD when King Æthelstan pulled the old Heptarchy into a single kingdom. East Anglia, Essex, Kent, Mercia, Northumbria, Sussex, Wessex: seven identities folded into one.
It was also the anniversary of the Battle of the Boyne, William of Orange’s victory over James II in 1690 — still marked by huge parades across Ulster, the biggest indigenous folk festival in Europe.
History done. Time for music.
GARY GLITTER – “I Love You Love Me Love”
We’ve featured Glitter before — a deeply flawed and predatory figure, but undeniably central to glam rock. “I Love You Love Me Love” slows the tempo right down, which only makes the handclaps and chant feel bigger. The exaggerated movement, the glitter, the theatre — all the reasons he was dubbed “Mr Glam” are baked into this track.
LÉGION ÉTRANGÈRE – “Le Boudin”
A couple of weeks ago we had The Black Watch Pipes & Drums on the list — the first military band ever to appear here. This week, we’re back in uniform with the French Foreign Legion. “Le Boudin” is their official march, hypnotic and relentless. Even with shaky French, it pulls you in.
MY DYING BRIDE – “The Poorest Waltz”
Doom metal slows everything down — the riffs, the mood, the heartbeat. My Dying Bride, Bradford’s finest, helped define the genre. “The Poorest Waltz” is a perfect example: mournful, theatrical, and heavy without needing speed. Give it a listen and tell us what you make of it.
BILL WITHERS – “Ain’t No Sunshine”
Withers’ voice is one of those instantly recognisable instruments — warm, weary, human. “Ain’t No Sunshine,” from his debut album Just As I Am, remains one of the great soul laments. The Old Grey Whistle Test performance we’ve linked is from 1972, when we were far too young to remember it, but the emotional punch is still there.
THE EAGLES – “Hotel California”
A song that’s become shorthand for American excess and disillusionment. The guitar interplay in the outro remains one of rock’s great moments.
HEART – “Stairway to Heaven” (Live)
Heart’s Kennedy Center performance is one of the rare covers that genuinely honours the original. Ann Wilson’s vocal control is extraordinary.
PAUL HEATON & JACQUI ABBOTT – “Since You’ve Been Gone”
Heaton and Abbott continue to produce warm, sharply observed pop with real heart.
MORRISSEY – “Everyday Is Like Sunday”
A bleak hymn to seaside desolation. One of his finest solo tracks.
W. BRENT SAWYER – “Both Sides Now”
A gentle, melancholy take on Joni Mitchell’s classic.
JOE STRUMMER & THE MESCALEROS – “I Fought the Law”
Strummer revisits a song he helped immortalise. The Mescaleros era suited him — loose, global, political.
SPLODGENESSABOUNDS – “Two Little Boys”
Chaotic, affectionate, slightly unhinged — exactly what you’d expect from Splodgenessabounds.
A regular reader has been in touch to tell us about the Wigan Diggers’ Festival, held on Saturday 12th September. It’s one of those quietly brilliant community events: free music, poetry, films, talks — all celebrating Gerrard Winstanley (1609–1676) and the 17th‑century True Levellers, better known as the Diggers.
