Arcade Fire - Neon Bible

I'm making a conscious decision to cover more music that I actually like. Unfortunately, it doesn't really make for very good reading, because I'm better at being angry than I am at being enthusiastic. This is because I've had more practice at the former because so much stuff's shit.

Arcade Fire aren't shit. They're good. See, there's the problem in a nutshell. The word 'shit' is far more interesting than 'good'. Go further than 'good' and you start sounding like some pseudo-intellectual cheerleader or like the band's official press release or something.

Several people who didn't make the mistake of sounding like Arcade Fire's official press release were those reviewing the album for BBC2's Newsnight Review last Friday. Most of them hated it. They were pseud-ing it up to a frightening degree in their criticisms, which was ironic, because most of their problems with Arcade Fire revolved around the band's supposed pseud-ishness.

Arcade Fire aren't pseud-y. They're good. As their only defendant on Newsnight Review pointed out, the others clearly hadn't listened to the album. Or maybe they just hadn't been able to hear it over their own overly-poetic, yet bizarrely light-on-substance criticisms that had kicked in after the first two crotchets.

The people on Newsnight Review were dicks. You should buy this album, because everything they say is wrong. They'd be wrong about which way is 'up' and which way is 'down'.

Grinderman - Grinderman

The good records theme continues. Maybe it's just a lucky week. Here is a list of reasons why Grinderman should be bought:

Grinderman is Nick Cave and some of The Bad Seeds. Almost everything they do pisses on other rock music like alcoholic Irish giant, Charles Byrne 'breaking the seal' with his first wazz of the day (and pissing over a load of rock bands).

Grinderman is Nick Cave and some of The Bad Seeds being even more rock. The only bad thing about Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds (other than the word 'bad' and some of their evil thoughts) is that occasionally they do a ballad that's a bit wispy musically.

Grinderman is an exceptional name for anything or anyone.

There's a monkey on the cover. He's green.

Track two: 'No Pussy Blues' - probably the best song title of the year and we've still got nine months to go.

All the band members have grown nineteenth century, wild west town moustaches and facial hair.

Finally, Nick Cave is on guitar, despite not really being able to play the guitar.

Buy it, buy it, buy it, buy it, buy it, buy it.

36 Crazy Fists - Rest Inside The Flames

No! Don't rest inside the flames! Flee! Flee! Rest outside the reach of the flames, where you won't get burnt. Rest at a safe distance.

Is this what passes for advice these days? It's ludicrously irresponsible. Maybe the band really ARE 18 mentalists, keen to give you a pummelling. You'd never get that kind of behaviour from Jim Reeves or Teddy Pendergrass. Now there were some crooners you could set your watch by. I trusted them nearly as much as the Green Cross Code man.

Track two: 'Felt Through a Phone Line'. Either this is a reference to the Brass Eye paedophile episode, where Phillippa Forrester claimed that paedophiles could feel children up via the internet, using a 'special glove'. Either that or it's about phoning for fuzzy felt. We've all done it. Phoned for fuzzy felt, I mean.

Justin Timberlake

I know what you're wondering: If this album were a song by Carter USM, which would it be? The answer, of course, is 'Lenny and Terence'.

And I know what else you're wondering: Is Justin Timberlake still stalking you? The answer, of course, is yes.

I got up this morning and who should I find slumped against my front door, but the squeaky-voiced popster himself. His pleas that he'd been out with The Neptunes and that he thought that this was Chad Hugo's house fell on deaf ears and I sent him on his way.

Earlier in the week I'd been idly wondering whether it was time to prune my Buddleja in the back garden, when he'd appeared over the back fence. He then strung a load of his own song titles together in a bid to impress me. He said:

"'What You Got' 'Last Night' is 'Still On My Brain'. 'Rock Your Body'. 'Take Me Now', 'Take It From Here' 'Like I Love You'."

I replied in kind:

"'Cry Me A River'. 'Nothin' Else'."

At which point I retrieved my pilfered secateurs from his limp grip and told him to fuck off.

Oasis - Stop The Clocks

Stop the CD! Stop the CD!

For those that don't know 'repeat until funny' is a mainstay of my humour. Some might say it's the only facet, but they'd be neglecting 'pedantry' and 'pointing out what a dork I am'. Perhaps the former falls into the category of the latter. Perhaps the latter is subjected to the 'repeat until funny' mantra.

So, Oasis then. As you might imagine, most of this 'best of' features their early stuff, when they weren't garbage. Of eighteen tracks, five are off their first album, five off their second and two are B-sides that bridge the gap between those two albums.

I've done a bit of statistical analysis and I've concluded that a percentage like that means you may as well just buy the first two albums. Then you can just download the other songs off the internet and send Noel Gallagher three quid in the post in order to offset your guilt.

Alternatively, buy the more recent albums and then download all the good Oasis songs for free in order to offset Noel Gallagher's guilt that he feels for making money from such dross.

The Fray - How To Save A Life

What? Sorry? Come again? No, sorry, you'll have to repeat that. What did you say? Huh? Are you having a laugh? Just what are you trying to tell me?

Now I've no problem with indecipherable lyrics, but The Fray are pushing it. No. The Fray have pushed it. The Fray have taken a big, long run-up and pushed and pushed and pushed until their little hearts have burst. Then they've gone down to the hospital, had transplants and returned for another bout of pushing.

I don't understand ONE WORD that this guy says on their super-smash, mega-selling, ultra-number-one single, 'How To Save A Life'. I presume that at least part of it is the words 'how to save a life' but I can't spot when it happens.

I actually thought they were Croatian or Lithuanian or something and were singing in their mother tongue. They're not. The Fray are from Colorado.

The Fray have produced the worst keyboard rock since Toploader did 'Dancing In The Moonlight'. If you're after a recommendation for How To Save A Life, that's the best I can come up with: The vocals aren't as annoying as the Toploader bloke's on 'Dancing In The Moonlight'.

Take That - Beautiful World

Suddenly everyone my age likes Take That. It's possibly in an ironic kind of way, which is still no excuse.

When Take That were first around they were all over the media like a particularly virulent and irritating rash. They were in every magazine. They were on every TV show. They topped the charts with every single. It felt like it would never end.

Now they've returned and for some reason they're being treated with some sort of reverential, nostalgic good humour. Sure, each of them seems all right. Even Gary (pronounced 'Galley') Barlow doesn't seem like as much of a gimp as he used to. But STILL that's no excuse.

They make bland music. The old stuff's only memorable because you were force-fed it virtually every waking hour. I hate nostalgia. I hate how shit stuff can become seemingly worthy simply through the passage of time. It's still shit. All you're doing is giving it a second bout of unwarranted exposure.

'Reach Out', 'Patience', 'Beautiful World', 'Hold On', 'Like I Never Loved You At All', 'Shine', 'I'd Wait For Life', 'Ain't No Sense In Love', 'What You Believe In'. These are song titles finely calibrated to offend NO-ONE and therefore lose NO-ONE as a potential customer.

The only song title of merit is 'Mancunian Way' although I'm 90 percent certain that this is a play on words. If it were actually about Manchester's inner ring road, I'd be far, far happier.