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.
Our last Song List went out on Wednesday 1st July , and it happened to fall on a grim anniversary: 110 years since the first day of the Battle of the Somme . The campaign dragged on until 18 November 1916 , leaving a combined British, German and French casualty figure of well over one million, with 300,000 deaths . The Tyneside Irish and Tyneside Scottish battalions of the Northumberland Fusiliers were hit hardest — around 8,000 casualties on day one .
Numbers like that are obscene. They should echo whenever a politician starts rattling sabres and urging the UK to back another round of US military intervention somewhere in the world .
With the anti‑war homily out of the way, we bring you music .
Louis Armstrong – What A Wonderful World
We begin with Satchmo — born 1901 in New Orleans — a man who didn’t just play jazz, he re‑shaped it. Armstrong’s trumpet style, forged in the clubs of Storyville, helped drag jazz from ensemble playing into the era of the virtuoso soloist. By the time he recorded What A Wonderful World in August 1967 , he was already a global icon. The song itself was written as a counterpoint to the turbulence of the late 60s — Vietnam, civil rights struggles, assassinations. It topped the UK charts in April 1968 , offering a moment of calm in a year that had very little of it. You like it for the voice — gravelly, warm, unmistakable — and for its unhurried optimism .
Benedict Cork – Have A Good Life (See You Never)
Our first reader recommendation. Cork, from Hertfordshire , is one of those artists who seems to have arrived fully formed: sharp songwriting, clean production, and a knack for melodies that stick. The track is a bittersweet pop gem — upbeat on the surface, quietly bruised underneath. You noted that if there’s any justice, he’ll become a household name . Hard to disagree.
The Offspring – Blitzkrieg Bop (Ramones cover)
This came from a reader answering the question raised in issue 153. You’d featured Agnostic Front’s cover of the Ramones classic and asked who’d done the most memorable version. The Offspring’s take is fast, faithful, and full of energy — a US rock band covering a US punk anthem, keeping the spirit intact . The original Blitzkrieg Bop (1976) was the Ramones’ opening salvo: two minutes of pure down‑stroke guitar, shouted vocals, and the birth of American punk. The Offspring lean into that heritage rather than modernising it, which is precisely why the cover works.
Johann Sebastian Bach – Prelude No. 1 in C Major
A palate cleanser. Bach wrote the Prelude as part of The Well‑Tempered Clavier (1722), a collection designed to show that music could be written in all 24 major and minor keys — revolutionary at the time. The piece is deceptively simple: arpeggios rising and falling like breath. You joked that if you’re not calm after listening, you may need urgent medical help . It’s the kind of music that resets the room.
The Interrupters – Take Back The Power
Our third reader recommendation. The Interrupters emerged from the Los Angeles ska‑punk revival, carrying the torch lit by bands like Rancid and Operation Ivy. Take Back The Power is built for movement: brass stabs, driving rhythm, and Aimee Interrupter’s unmistakable voice — the thing you singled out as especially powerful . It’s political without preaching, catchy without pandering, and exactly the kind of track that earns repeat plays.
Anonymous Ulster – Brothers From Across The Water
A nod to your fascination with obscure artists and genres . This track sits in the tradition of Ulster folk storytelling — rough‑edged, earnest, and rooted in cross‑border identity. It’s the kind of song that feels like it belongs to a place rather than a market.
Fugees – Killing Me Softly
Lauryn Hill’s vocal on this track remains one of the defining performances of the 1990s. The song itself began life in 1973 with Roberta Flack, but the Fugees’ version turned it into something else entirely — hip‑hop soul with a heartbeat. It’s a reminder of how reinterpretation can eclipse the original without erasing it.
Orange Juice – Rip It Up
Post‑punk meets pop in one of Scotland’s most infectious tracks. Released in 1983, Rip It Up was a pivot point: Edwyn Collins blending punk’s angularity with Chic‑style funk guitar. It’s a song that sounds like a band discovering colour after years of monochrome.
Morrissey – The More You Ignore Me The Closer I Get
Mid‑90s Morrissey: melodic, sardonic, and steeped in irony. Released in 1994, the track was one of his biggest solo hits, built around obsession, humour, and a hook that burrows in. It’s Morrissey doing what he does best — unsettling charm.
Slade – Mama Weer All Crazee Now
A glam‑rock riot from 1972. Slade specialised in songs that sounded like Friday night in a Midlands pub — loud, loose, and designed for maximum chaos. This track is pure energy: stomping drums, shouted vocals, and a chorus built for crowds.
Slipknot – The Devil In I
Modern metal with theatrical flair. Released in 2014, the song marked a shift in Slipknot’s sound — still aggressive, but more melodic, more controlled. It’s a track about identity, masks, and the parts of ourselves we’d rather not meet.
Will.i.am – Heart Breaker
A glossy, beat‑driven pop track from the late 2000s. Will.i.am’s production style — sharp edges smoothed into radio‑friendly shine — is all over this one. It’s sleek, synthetic, and built for dancefloors.
“Rain, rebellion, synthesisers and Southern swagger — your midweek cultural tonic.”
Many people regard June as the start of Summer, but so far the weather has been so relentlessly wet that even the ducks are filing formal complaints. The fish are threatening industrial action. And last week’s joke about Christmas stock appearing in Home Bargains? We said “August” — but given the rumours that they’re planning to rescue Denby pottery, perhaps we’ll forgive them if the baubles come early. If a major British ceramics brand and hundreds of jobs can be saved, that’s a Christmas miracle we’ll happily take in June.
But enough meteorology and retail speculation. Time to turn to the real business of the week: music.
This edition takes us from the snarling birth of punk to the shimmering synths of early New Wave, from Southern rock swagger to Californian sunshine pop, from communal singing to glam-rock provocation. A proper Counter Culture spread — eclectic, historically grounded, and always with an eye on the cultural currents beneath the tunes.
Let’s dive in.
GNARLS BARKLEY – Crazy
When Crazy landed in 2006, it felt like a song that had always existed — a modern standard arriving fully formed. CeeLo Green’s soulful, wounded vocal sits atop Danger Mouse’s cinematic production, built around a haunting sample from Gianfranco Reverberi’s 1968 spaghetti‑western score Nel Cimitero di Tucson. The track became the first ever UK No.1 based solely on downloads, signalling a shift in how music would be consumed.
It’s a song about losing your grip on reality, yet it’s delivered with such swagger that it feels liberating rather than despairing — a rare trick.
THE BEACH BOYS – Fun, Fun, Fun
Released in 1964, this is the Beach Boys at their most effervescent: teenage rebellion, fast cars, and harmonies so bright they could power the national grid. Brian Wilson’s arrangement is a masterclass in controlled exuberance — the opening guitar lick nods cheekily to Chuck Berry, while the vocal stack is pure California sunshine.
It’s also a sly little morality tale: girl borrows car, girl misbehaves, girl loses car. But with harmonies like these, who cares?
CHOIR! CHOIR! CHOIR! – Zombie
The Canadian collective Choir! Choir! Choir! specialise in turning pop songs into communal acts of catharsis. Their take on The Cranberries’ Zombie is especially powerful — a massed choir reclaiming Dolores O’Riordan’s protest song about the Troubles and the human cost of political violence.
What was once a howl of grief becomes, in their hands, a shared lament and a reminder of how music can bind people together in the face of tragedy.
ELTON JOHN & DUA LIPA – Cold Heart
A clever, shimmering hybrid: Pnau splice together fragments of Elton’s back catalogue (Rocket Man, Sacrifice, Kiss the Bride) and build a sleek, modern disco track around them. Dua Lipa’s cool, crystalline vocal contrasts beautifully with Elton’s warmth.
It’s a reminder that pop history isn’t a museum — it’s a living archive, constantly being reinterpreted and re‑energised.
GARY NUMAN – My Name is Ruin / Are Friends Electric?
Numan’s 2018 Old Grey Whistle Test performance is a fascinating bridge between eras. Are Friends Electric? (1979) was one of the first major UK hits built almost entirely on synthesizers — a stark, dystopian track that helped define early New Wave and electronic pop. Tubeway Army may have dissolved, but Numan’s influence only grew. My Name is Ruin shows the evolution: darker, heavier, industrial‑tinged — and featuring his daughter Persia, whose ethereal high notes add an eerie, almost ritualistic quality. A family affair in the best possible way.
LYNYRD SKYNYRD – Sweet Home Alabama
A cornerstone of Southern rock, released in 1974 as a response to Neil Young’s critiques of the American South. The track’s breezy feel — those instantly recognisable opening chords — belies the cultural debate it sparked.
Musically, it’s irresistible: triple‑guitar attack, swaggering rhythm section, and Ronnie Van Zant’s laid‑back vocal. Whatever your view on the politics, it remains one of rock’s most enduring anthems.
MAGAZINE – Shot By Both Sides
Howard Devoto left the Buzzcocks because he wanted to explore something more angular, more cerebral — and Magazine was the result. Shot By Both Sides (1978) is a post‑punk landmark: jagged guitars, paranoid lyrics, and a sense of intellectual unease that set the template for countless bands to come.
It’s punk with a library card — and all the better for it.
MORRISSEY – The Monsters of Pig Alley
A later‑period Morrissey track that leans into noirish atmosphere and cinematic tension. The title references the 1912 D.W. Griffith film, one of the earliest gangster movies. Musically, it’s brooding and muscular, with Morrissey’s vocal weaving between menace and melancholy.
Whatever one thinks of the man, his ability to conjure mood remains intact.
ELVIS PRESLEY – Girl of My Best Friend
Recorded in 1960, this is Elvis in his early post‑Army period — smoother, more mature, and leaning into the pop‑ballad tradition. The song itself dates back to the late ’50s and has been covered many times, but Elvis gives it a tender, almost conversational quality.
It’s a snapshot of a transitional moment: the raw rock ’n’ roll rebel evolving into a polished mainstream star.
SEX PISTOLS – Pretty Vacant
If punk had a mission statement, this might be it. Released in 1977, Pretty Vacant is less overtly confrontational than God Save the Queen, but its sneer is just as potent. Steve Jones’ guitar is a wall of sound, Paul Cook’s drumming is tight and propulsive, and John Lydon’s vocal — especially the infamous pronunciation of “va‑CUNT” — is pure provocation.
It’s not just a song; it’s a cultural rupture. A reminder that punk wasn’t merely a genre — it was a demolition job on the complacency of the era.
THE STONE ROSES – I Am the Resurrection
The closing track of their 1989 debut album, and one of the great codas in British rock. The first half is a swaggering kiss‑off; the second half dissolves into a euphoric, extended instrumental jam that feels like a premonition of the Madchester rave‑rock fusion to come.
It’s the Roses at their most transcendent — a band briefly touching the divine.
SWEET – Blockbuster (Uncensored Version)
Ah, Steve Priest. Glam rock’s resident agent provocateur. His Top of the Pops appearance — Prussian helmet, swastika armband, silver platform boots, fake toothbrush moustache — was designed to wind up the BBC establishment, and it succeeded magnificently.
Today, in our era of humour‑averse pearl‑clutching, the clip is labelled “Uncensored Version,” which tells you everything about the cultural shift.
It raises a serious question: should artistic expression be constrained because someone, somewhere, might take offence?
Counter Culture’s answer is simple: art must be free to provoke, unsettle, and challenge — otherwise it’s not art.
AND FINALLY…
If you enjoy the Midweek Song List, remember we also produce:
CALIFORNIA SON, Morrissey’s twelfth studio album, is a collection of covers including a few familiar old classics and some maybe lesser known American protest and social
justice songs from the 60s and 70s. Morrissey and his band never shy away from imaginative musical arrangements, often seeking out unusual instruments, and there are influences here from New Orleans, the old time crooners and a touch of Broadway. No doubt this is a nod
to his recent sell out residency at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre in New York City (NYC).
The album opens with Morning Starship, the 1973 song by Jobriath. Morrissey has talked about covering this song for many years, and his version does not disappoint. He strips back the glam rock just enough to emphasise his wide range of vocals. It is an uplifting track and was well received when he sang it live on Broadway.
Next up is his version of Joni Mitchell’s Don’t interrupt the Sorrow, a song about Women standing up to male dominance from her 1975 The Hissing of Summer Lawns album. Originally a folky song with lots of hand drums it is given the full Morrissey crooner treatment. Now in his 60th yeapeats on several tracks throughout this album, not least on the very good Wedding Bell Blueson which Green Day’s Billy Joe Armstrong adds backing vocals.
Morrissey is never one to shy away from a song with a powerful message, and chose to include the 1964 Bob Dylan song Only A Pawn in their Game, written following the assassination of civil rights activist Medgar Evers. The message in this song is that the killer was as much a victim or “pawn” of the elites in power as was his victim. The song was sung at the rally where Martin Luther King gave his“I have a dream” speech. It’s an interesting choice, as is his excellent cover of Days of Decision. This is taken from the 1965Phil Ochs album Ain’t MarchingAnymore, with its lyrics: “you can do what’s right or you can do what you are told.” Maybe in these choices Morrissey is encouraging the listener to look at the lessons of history and to question things a little more?
Buffy Sainte Marie’s Suffer the Little Children is given the full Broadway treatment with big instrumentals and hand clapping. Buffy, in an interview, said she loved it.
There are very good versions of Carly Simon’s When you close your eyesand Dione Warwick’s Loneliness Remembers what Happiness Forgets. Gary Puckett’s LadyWillpoweris also very well done. Tim Hardin’s eulogy to his friend Lenny Bruce, Lenny’sTuneis perfect for the melancholic signature sound of Morrissey, and whilst this version is not as haunting as the Nico cover it does justice to the original.
Roy Orbison’s It’s Overstays true to the original and is one of the best tracks on the album. He closes with Melanie Safka’s 1971 Some Say (I got Devil). The vocals here are excellent and the addition of instrumentals on what was originally an acoustic guitar ballad gives the song new depth.
There really is not a bad track here but the real gift of this album is that it brings to a new generation a selection of protest songs about freedom, social justice and liberty that have a message relevant to today. It encourages you to seek out the original recordings and the stories behind them. Morrissey is not afraid to try new genres, or of working with material that others might now find too controversial. It is why his music endures despite the controversy, the bad press, the lack of radio coverage and the constant personal attacks. He has already recorded an album of new material for release later in the year. Retirement does not appear to be on the horizon just yet.
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.
