Morrissey: “What does this tell us about the state of Art in 2025?”

Dear Morrissey,

In your latest excuse for cancelling yet another show, you ponder: “No label will release our music, no radio will play our music… and yet our ticket sales are sensational. What does this tell us about the state of Art in 2025?”

There are several answers to this question, and they’re all patently obvious to anyone who has spent any time awake on Earth in the 21st century. 

And they all come down to the fact it’s no longer the 1990s. We cannot cling to those old dreams any more. No record company is going to give you a quarter-million dollar advance to do whatever you want. And when you realise it’s not the 1990s any more, you might also notice that you’re not 30 any more either, and perhaps consider not booking such an “exhausting” tour schedule.

You bemoan the lack of finance from record companies for you to tour, but why would they? Nobody buys physical albums any more, and they haven’t for 20 years. Had you not noticed? These days if an album has a physical release at all, it’s more likely to be on fancy vinyl aimed at a niche market and cost about $70. Singles aren’t even worth thinking about. The average consumer gets all their music from streaming now. Yes, even your fans. 

Gone are the days when tours promoted record sales. Today, albums are a loss-leader to promote concerts. Personally, I don’t like this situation any more than you do, but it’s something every artist has had to adjust to, from the bedroom guitarist with high hopes right up to Bruce Springsteen. 

What exactly do you think ticket sales have to do with having a record deal? To pick just three of your contemporaries, Echo and the Bunnymen, New Order, and Culture Club all continue to tour without any of them having released an album this decade. It doesn’t hurt that when they tour, they show up on time and treat their promoters, crew, and audience with respect. 

You know who else is doing a massively profitable tour without a record company? Oasis!

Now sure, you’re not Oasis. But the people buying Oasis tickets are doing so for exactly the same reason people buy Morrissey tickets: Nostalgia! 

No-one wants to see their favourite artists disappear up their own back catalogue, forsaking any relevance to today. But no-one wants to hear only the new album either. The people buying Morrissey tickets are not coming to hear unreleased songs from Bonfire of Teenagers. They are coming to hear How Soon Is Now?, Suedehead, Bigmouth Strikes Again, November Spawned a Monster, and Interesting Drug. I promise you, no-one standing through the tedious 40-minute YouTube playlist you present at the start of your show is turning to their friend and saying, “I hope he does Life is a Pigsty.” 

They are there to see the Morrissey who reminded them that it takes strength to be gentle and kind, not the Morrissey whose world is shaken by hearing foreign accents in the high street. I know the latter attitude has made you something of a cause célèbre among freedom-fetishising alt-right podcasters and their fans, but I’ll bet you a Johnny Marr signature Martin none of them could hum two bars of any of your songs. They’re not the ones going to your concerts because they’re just as scared to leave the house as you are.

So let’s instead focus on the good aspects of the music industry in 2025. These days, anyone can release an album entirely on their own terms. They probably won’t become a millionaire from it, but artistic integrity is priceless, no? Bonfire of Teenagers could be out tomorrow if you wanted it to be. If Bandcamp is good enough for Peter Gabriel, it’s good enough for you Sonny Jim!

But that would mean taking responsibility for your own career and that’s not what you want, is it? What you want is plausible deniability. You want an evil record label, promoter, or management company to blame when you inevitably shit in the nest again. 

And you’ve had a bad run with all of them, haven’t you? In an industry awash with opportunists and hangers-on, you have achieved what should be impossible. You have completely run out of people willing to work with you. Despite excellent brand recognition, your reputation for being devious, truculent and unreliable precedes you to the point where even the most desperate try-hard refuses to touch you. Being Morrissey’s manager is like being Donald Trump’s lawyer. The first sign of incompetence is taking on the client in the first place. 

Having an ugly bust-up with one label or management company is to be expected. It’s virtually a rock and roll rite of passage. To have it happen with every company you’ve ever dealt with is a different story. 

It’s you, Steven. You’re the problem. 
   

Time dilation in popular culture

When George Lucas’s nostalgia trip American Graffiti was released, the tag line was “Where were you in ’62?”

The movie was made in 1973 and seemed to be set in a completely different world.

If the movie were made today, it would be set in 2013.

 

In The Four Seasons’ Oh What a Night! the singer was reminiscing about December 1963. The song was released in 1975.

If it were released today, it would be about 2012.

 

When The Eagles sang “we haven’t had that spirit here since 1969,” that was eight years prior to the song.

If it were released today, it would refer to 2016.

 

In The Smiths’ song of educational trauma, The Headmaster Ritual, Sir wears the “same old suit since 1962.”

Since the song was released in 1985, the suit would be from 2001 today.

 

The Smashing Pumpkins sang about 1979 in 1995.

Today, it would be about 2008; the year Obama was elected.

 

The song 1985 by SR-71 and made famous by Bowling For Soup is about a mother who is completely out of touch and living in the past. 

Both versions are now over 20 years old – older now than the era the song was about.

Oh, and if it were twenty years ago today Sgt Pepper taught the band to play, that would put it way back in 2004. 

Country music through the decades

Country music in the 1950s:
My baby gone done me wrong and ain’t nobody understands but this here whiskey.

Country music in the 1960s:
Sure, I pulled the trigger but society is to blame.

Country music in the 1970s:
I didn’t die before I got old. 

Country music in the early 80s:
I won’t live forever but my spirit will.

Country music in the late 80s/early 90s:
Hey! Gucci makes cowboy hats now!

Country music in the late 90s/early 00s:
Okay, I just smoked a bunch of weed and my car’s a real shitbox but whatever dude, wanna go for a drive?

Country music in the 2010s:
U!S!A! U!S!A!

Country music in the 2020s:
I was watching my 100-inch TV and saw a thing on cable news that made me so damn mad I bought another 6-pack of assault rifles to stop the dirty people from looking at my suburban mansion.

Thank you for your service, Kris Kristofferson.

“But I am living still…”

Presenting my credentials

It’s been less than a week and already the hype over the Oasis reunion has jumped the shark.

I know this because none other than the Manchester Evening News has hung an entire article on the bleeding obvious observation that with the gigs over a year away, Oasis could easily break up again before they happen.

Who did they consult for the most daring prediction this side of “it might rain before then”? Apparently, you need an “Oasis expert” for that. With a PhD.

Don’t get me wrong, my love for Oasis is matched only by my disgust at Gen-Xers becoming everything we rightly mocked boomers for in taking ourselves way too seriously.

So, if “Oasis expert” is now a thing, and not just a category on Mastermind or Hard Quiz, I present to you all my areas of expertise which in a just world would be mocked, but I won’t walk away from fools and their money.

 

Latest research from Birmingham City
University faculty of YA THINK??

Senior research fellow at the institute of beer and chips

Beatologist

Cola connoisseur

Windows specialist

Chord sommelier

Satire historian

Honorary fellow in pre-internet isolation

Self-love consultant

Oasis expert (oh yes! Come at me Dr Matt!)

Lennonist

Smithsonian, including solo careers, specialising in the Decline and Fall of Morrissey

 

But, I have an eye to the future as well, so here are some fields I am moving into:

 

Professor of Swiftonomics

The socio-economic effects of streaming

Post-social media landscape navigator

 

So, reporters, editors, producers… if you have some space or time to fill, hit me up! Oh, and if this all seems a bit too highbrow for ya, I can also talk shit. 

  

 

 

 

Pink Floyd announce 51st Anniversary Edition of The Dark Side of the Moon

Pink Floyd have announced the 51^st Anniversary Meta-Edition of their classic album The Dark Side of the Moon. (Apparently, they have made other albums.)

The album has been given yet another remix with representatives of the band stating this is the first to combine modern digital techniques and vintage analogue technology contemporary to the making of the album.

“Some found the recent Dolby Atmos mix to be very ‘modern’ sounding” said mix engineer James Guthrie. “We found that taking the newly re-digitised multitracks and routing them back through the original mixing desk gave as close as we could get to the sound Pink Floyd would have made if they had today’s technology in 1973.”

As close as they can get until next year, anyway.

The original quadraphonic mix was used as the basis for the new mix, enlisting a new hack of Pink Floyd’s legendary azimuth coordinator with additional channels added for modern sound reproduction.

The complete Meta-Edition will be released in an 8-disc box containing 5 CDs, each featuring 20% of the full mix and intended to be played simultaneously for full effect, the new Meta-mix on a single CD, The Dark Side of the Moon Live at Wembley again because up yours, and a Blu-ray disc containing the new Meta-mix in 5.1 and Dolby Atmos, the original unreleased Alan Parsons quad mix, a stereo fold down of the Meta-mix in 192kHz, 32-bit, and as yet unannounced video content, but probably the same concert films as the last three versions.

The Blu-ray also contains the individual multitracks in WAV format, which will allow fans to mix the 52^nd anniversary edition.

The full-on Meta-Edition comes housed in a 1/2048 sized pyramid which, as of the time of writing, also includes a hardcover book of photographs, a crystal prism, a silk handkerchief, a velvet pouch containing 3 grams of tobacco salvaged from Abbey Road ashtrays at the time of recording, a replica of Richard Wright’s shopping list from November 13^th 1972, and a 7-inch vinyl disc of the unremastered mono radio edit of Money because you’re made of it aren’t you.

This release will be followed in six months’ time by an individual release of the Blu-ray disc negating the need to buy all the other trash to get the good stuff, and the in early 2025 by a quarter-speed mastered, 220 gram, 45rpm double LP on holographic mirrored vinyl.

In a press release, David Gilmour described the 51^st Anniversary Edition as, “Probably the only version of The Dark Side of the Moon you need to own. This year.”

When contacted for comment, Roger Waters said, “Get the fuck off my lawn!”

 

The 51^st Anniversary Meta Edition of The Dark Side of the Moon is released on April 1^st, 2024.

The Bonus Discs - Let It Be

Regardless of the new evidence in the companion book and Peter Jackson’s re-cut of the film, that the experience wasn’t as bad as we’ve all been led to believe. Let It Be remains The Beatles’ most difficult album, both during and after its making.

Giles Martin’s new mix of the album is a subtle tweaking rather than a full reimagining. Phil Spector’s orchestrations are still in there. Martin states in the notes that Spector’s mix lacked the sensitivity of George Martin but created a sound of its own which had to be respected.

Personally, I can’t fault Phil Spector for doing what he did to the original Let It Be. The fact he did not share the same vision as The Beatles should have been obvious. The Beatles had washed their hands of the project a year earlier and Spector was handed weeks’ worth of tapes to create something of releasable quality from. He did this the only way he knew how, which was to turn it into a Phil Spector record. I can blame him for being a creepy, abusive murderer but I can’t blame him for doing the job he was hired to do.

Back to the new mix though, and the differences are very subtle – almost to the point of being imperceptible. I played the 2009 remaster immediately afterwards to compare and I was hard pressed to tell the difference. Spector’s syrup is dialled back a bit but not all that much. In any case, if you want to hear the de-Spectored version, there’s Let It Be… Naked, and the Glyn Johns mix, more of which later.

Discs 2 and 3 are split between actual takes, and rehearsals and jams. The content could have fitted on one disc but it makes sense to split, partly because there’s a different theme and partly because this album makes you expect 35 to 40-minute bites.

Because of the live-in-the-studio ethos of the project, the outtakes and rehearsals are the kind of thing that reward repeated listening rather than being mere curios.

Disc 4 is what we’ve really been waiting for though – the first official release of Glyn Johns’ mix of the proposed Get Back album. I haven’t heard any of the bootlegs so this was my first listen. It’s a great snapshot. For me, the problem with it is that it was only ever a work-in-progress mix. Teddy Boy could easily have been jettisoned and the full length version of Dig It was probably unnecessary. Get Back would surely have been tidied up for release if they had seen the project through. On the whole, I prefer the sound of Let It Be… Naked. And there is absolutely no reason why the Naked mix couldn’t have been included in this set.

Disc 5 is a a 4-track EP. Why? I have no idea. It contains the original mix of Across the Universe (fair enough), the Glyn Johns mix of I Mean Mine complete with scratches (why?) plus new mixes of the single versions of Don’t Let Me Down and Let It Be. What the entire box doesn’t include is the original single version of Get Back, either as a remix or the original. Why not?

And so to the Blu-ray which features the stereo mix in hi-res, DTS-HD 5.1 and Dolby Atmos. The surround mix is not mind-blowing but nor should it be. As it well documented, the whole point of the album was to ‘get back’ to basics so being flashy with the surround mix would be further going against the original intention. There also probably wasn’t much more you could do with it. For the most part, the arrangements are spread out a bit more which definitely helps hear details which have previously been buried in the stereo mixes.

I did find the menu animations rather distracting and ended up turning the screen off.

The book is beautiful and is particularly helpful in identifying takes. I hadn’t realised so much of Let It Be… Naked came from the same takes as the original album. I do wish they had saved a page in there for Tony Barrow’s sleeve notes for the Get Back album. The only place they appear in the whole package is on the back of the replica CD cover and it’s bloody hard to read the 4pt type.

Worth paying extra for?
Well, if you’re extremely lucky like I am and happen to have come into some birthday money recently, there are certainly more disappointing things you could spend it on. If you’re itching to hear the legendary Glyn Johns mix though, you could probably go to your nearest purveyor of bootlegs and still come out with enough change to afford the Abbey Road box set.

Let It Be 1987 remaster

Let It Be 2009 remaster

Let It Be 2021 remix

Black Friday Bam-a-lam!

 

Dear bands, singers, musicians, and other assorted recording artistes as appropriate:

If you must go in for this Black Friday nonsense – and I get that market forces probably mean you have to – do you know what I would really like to order from your online store?

A CD.

Not a hoodie.
Not a denim jacket with a patch bearing your name sewn on the sleeve.
Not an infant’s onesie.

Not your latest album spread across ten 7” picture discs.
Not monogrammed cigarette papers.
Not a download with extra tracks. If I’m going to pay for a download, it had better be at least 48kHz, 24-bit lossless or GTFO!
Not a pair of socks.
Not Christmas tree decorations.
Not a 250g LP in 4-colour spattered vinyl because that’s the only physical medium you chose to release the album in. Hey, I love vinyl but I’m not a fetishist.
Not a scarf.
Not a pillow case.
Not a water bottle.
Not a mug.
Not a teapot.
Not a cassette. I like retro technology but cassettes sucked even when they were the best option available.
Not a dartboard.
Not a jigsaw puzzle.
Not a hip flask.
Not a pint glass/shot glass/bar set.
Not a tote bag.
Not a tea towel.
Not a lithograph of a concert poster which was never used for the original tour anyway.
Not a CD which has been bundled with a vinyl record, T-shirt/jacket/hoodie, and art print.

Just a plain old CD.

Actually, it doesn’t have to be plain.

I love beautiful packaging, so long as your idea of beautiful packaging isn’t a massive hardcover book bound in virgin ostrich leather which will take up 25% of my shelf and cost somewhere in the vicinity of a flight to Thailand.

And it doesn’t have to be old.

I’d prefer some new music to your most popular album remastered by technicians at Space-X under the supervision of the original tape-op because somehow the four previous remasters still didn’t get it right. And that slight remix to strip the original album of the production values which didn’t remain fashionable? Not really necessary. I know they didn’t have Pro Tools in 1970. That might be why the original records were so good. If you took all the gated reverb off the snares in those 80s albums, would we even recognise the songs? And in situations where the principle artist is no longer around to approve (or disapprove), it’s getting dangerously close to musical fan-fic.

Just one further request:

Could you put ALL the music on the CD please? Don’t hit me up in another 6 months to buy the version with all the tracks you forgot to include the first time around. And if you want to do a coffee-table book edition – so called because it’s roughly the size of an actual coffee table – that’s fine for those who like that kind of thing, but please don’t expect me to invest in this massive slab of furniture just to get the bonus live disc. That really isn’t fair. DVDs are cool too. Include them by all means but the same rule applies: don’t make the DVD with all the bonus features only available to those willing to shell out for the version that comes in a ¼ size replica pyramid with certified used guitar strings and a lock of the singer’s hair.

I am more than willing to pay a price which, averaged out across the print run, will compensate you for the time and resources spent writing, recording, mixing, manufacturing and distributing the product, with a reasonable profit margin.

Is that too much to ask?

 

10 reasons why the best rock stars are nerds

Being a rock star is of course the coolest thing you can possibly be. But it doesn’t mean everything about you is cool. In fact, some of the biggest rock stars you know are nerds just below the surface.

Jimmy Page

Page started his career as a session guitarist and can be heard on dozens singles that would be deemed far too poppy and cheesy for any Zep aficionado. Led Zeppelin themselves dropped several references to The Lord of the Rings into their early songs and Page is such a fan of Aleistair Crowley he bought Crowley’s former home.
Nerd score: 7/10


Brian May

The Queen guitarist is a Doctor of Astrophysics, a passionate campaigner for animal rights – particularly badgers – and plays a guitar which he built himself as a teenager out of timber from the family fireplace. With a sixpence!
Nerd score: 12/10


Metallica

Their image is heavy but Metallica are music nerds at heart. Their rhythms are meticulously crafted and they will never play eight bars of 4/4 where a mix of 5/8, 3/4, 12/8 and 6/4 will suffice.
Nerd score: 8/10


Frank Zappa

Although the bulk of his lyrics were aimed at frat boys, Zappa’s music was all nerd. Auditions for his band bordered on the cruel. Applicants were required sight-read ridiculously complex parts and then improvise over bizarre time signatures like 11/8. Having learned from his father, Dweezil has said that 4/4 is the hardest rhythm for him to play.

When Zappa discovered he had a namesake in ’cellist and composer Francesco Zappa, Frank made an album of Francesco’s work by programming it into his Synclavier – an instrument he used for composing parts that were practically impossible for a human to play.

In the early 90s, Zappa had planned to set up a consulting business to facilitate trade between former Soviet Union states and the west. Czechoslovakian president Václav Havel had named him Special Ambassador to the West on Trade, Culture and Tourism but the appointment was nixed by then secretary of state James Baker.
Nerd Score: 10/10


John Lennon

The working class hero was never really working class. He was brought up by his middle-class aunt and went to art school. He published two volumes of absurdist verse, prose and cartoons in his lifetime and another was posthumously published.

Having once described avant-garde as “French for bullshit,” he fell in love with conceptual artist Yoko Ono, and embraced her experimental style on the albums Two Virgins, Life with the Lions and Wedding Album.

Later, during his house-husband years, he would take Polaroid photos of the loaves of bread he baked and send them to friends.
Nerd score: 8/10


George Harrison

The Quiet One discovered Indian music almost by accident while filming the move Help! He took to it with a passion and studied the sitar under master Ravi Shankar. His interest in non-western instruments influenced almost all of late 60s music. He signed Radha Krishna Temple to Apple Records and inadvertently invented WOMAD.

He was a supporter of the Natural Law Party, a political offshoot of the Transcendental Meditation movement.

A lifelong Monty Python fan, he appeared as a reporter in Eric Idle’s spoof The Rutles, and financed Life Of Brian after big studios balked at the subject matter.
Nerd Score: 7/10


Jeff Baxter

The Steely Dan and Doobie Brothers guitarist has probably the most interesting side hustle of them all: he is a consultant to the US Defence Department, with a particular focus on missile defence. Stemming from an interest in how objects can be used for things they weren’t designed for, he wrote a paper in 1994 about how an anti-aircraft facility could be adapted into a missile defence system and passed it on to his representative. He’s been on the Pentagon payroll ever since.
Nerd Score: 7/10


David Bowie

Bowie’s earliest releases flopped at the time, and it’s probably just as well. He later admitted that if his first album had been a hit, he would probably have ended up in West End musicals. His first album is pure music-hall, with songs the likes of Uncle Arthur and She’s Got Medals that make his novelty song The Laughing Gnome sound positively hip by comparison.

Bowie was also a keen reader who could easily drop Philip Larkin quotes into an interview. He played the lead role in the cult classic Labyrinth, and in the 90s, set up his own internet service provider so subscribers could have their email address @davidbowie.com.
Nerd Score: 10/10


Art Garfunkel

Garfunkel is a voracious reader and keeps his books in chronological order of when he read them. He once walked across America by getting a friend to pick him up at the end of the day, drive him to the nearest motel, and drop him off at the same place the next morning.
Nerd score: 8/10


Sting

Gordon Sumner’s day job was as an English teacher. He practices tantric yoga (among other things if you believe the rumours), and learned to play the lute for an album of 16th century British compositions, released on Deutsche Grammophon.
Nerd Score: 14/10

LET IT BE - The Beatles (1970)

It was supposed to be a rebirth. It turned out to be the death throes.

With the news that Peter Jackson will be ploughing through the 96 hours of film shot for an album and documentary originally to be titled Get Back, I thought I’d take another look at the original. The film has never had an officially sanctioned DVD release but there is a version of the original cut issued by United Artists available if you look hard enough.

It is both fascinating and depressing. Paul’s idea was for the band to get back to the ways they used to make music – recording live, no overdubs – and film the whole process. What becomes evident even without the history we know, is that John and George have accepted that the group has all but broken up; Paul is in denial, desperately trying to hold things together; and Ringo is just dutifully coming to work.

The film is basically split into three acts: the Twickenham sessions, the Apple sessions, and the rooftop performance.

It’s immediately evident that attempting to make a record in a film studio was a mistake. The most notable section is the argument between Paul and George. The music is terrible. The environment of the film studio was so cold (both figuratively and literally) that the sessions were abandoned. Recording shifted to the Apple offices in Savile Row resulting in a noticeable improvement in mood. The presence of Billy Preston at these sessions seems to help them keep on track, and it’s here that they actually complete some takes.

Naturally, it’s the rooftop session that is the highlight – arguably the first ever guerrilla gig. Even though they had several weeks of rehearsals under their belts by then, we get the impression that having an audience – even of passers-by – forces them to behave themselves and put in a decent performance. It’s a rightly legendary show, but will give nightmares to anyone brought up with a 21st century understanding of health and safety.

Even though it’s obvious the four of them have completely drifted apart, when they’re playing they still give their all. It also reveals how underrated John Lennon is as a musician. He plays sensitive bass on The Long and Winding Road and Let It Be (despite his distaste for the latter), some blistering slide blues on For You Blue, and one of the most recognisable guitar solos in history on Get Back. It’s worth remembering that none of these were his songs.

Both the film and album were shelved, and only released to satisfy contractual obligations. The film does deserve credit for its honesty. None of the Beatles come out looking particularly good but it’s Paul who comes out worst. In fairness, his domineering is clearly an attempt to give the band direction and delay the inevitable breakup, but it’s not hard to see why none of the Beatles were keen on having the film reissued in any way. One hopes the new edit will not be a whitewash.

The transfer on this version is abysmal so Peter Jackson’s cut will probably be worth the wait if only for picture quality, providing he doesn’t CGI it all into a flaming island castle.

Highlight: The rooftop session
Feature: * * ½
Extras: None
Audio: Dolby mono

The problem with Rudolph

Never mind Baby It’s Cold Outside or Fairytale of New York. If you want to talk about bad messages in Christmas songs, try Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

You see, Rudolph was born different. To wit: he had a very shiny nose. For this, all of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names. Furthermore, they excluded him from their reindeer games.

However, Santa sees the value in Rudolph's uniqueness and gives him a special job to which he is especially suited. And then how the reindeer loved him!

Now you might think Santa is being pretty cool promoting Rudolph to the most popular reindeer and making the other reindeer accept him, but that’s not really what happens. He could have stopped the rest of the team teasing him any time he wanted, but he didn’t until he had a use for Rudolph.

And did the reindeer really love him? I doubt it. They were never shown the error of their ways. They only accepted Rudolph because Santa made him special, so they were really just sucking up to the boss.

The moral of the story? Reindeer are dicks and Santa will stick up for you if he has a use for you. If I were Rudolph, I’d have led them all up a ditch.

 

Top Ten Awesome Babble Songs

I’m currently reading Hang the DJ, an Alternative Book of Music Lists. It goes beyond the typical Top Ten Guitar Solos and sticks to very specific criteria. The first chapter, written by Owen King, tells you everything you need to know about the type of lists in the book: Ten Essential Stutter songs (for example, Muh-muh-muh-My Sharona and Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes.)

In selecting Talking Heads’ Psycho Killer, Owen King admits it only works if the final syllable is actually ‘far’ and not merely another ‘fah’ which would make it “better suited for the Top 10 Awesome Babble Songs.” Which gives me an idea…

This does not include scat singing or anything similar, but only songs where the babble is an integral part of the song, and often even the title.

10: Doo Wah Diddy - Manfred Mann
It’s really just your typical boy-meets-girl and they fall in love song. Only in this one, they’re singing ‘Doo wah diddy, diddy dum, diddy do.’ As you do.

9: Tutti Frutti - Little Richard
Apart from Mr Penniman listing some of the gals he’s got, the song is almost all babble. Although the title may also be an ice cream flavour an ‘aw rooty’ is allegedly a slang term for ‘all right,’ it hardly enhances the meaning of the song, whatever it may be. Awopbopaloobop Alopbamboom’s meaning has only come since the song.

8: Be-Bop-a-Lula - Gene Vincent
Any song that commits the lyrical sin of rhyming ‘baby’ and ‘maybe’ ensures that even if all the other words are utter drivel, they still won’t be the worst thing about the song. Like Yabba-Dabba-Doo, Be-Bop-a-Lula has no particular meaning but you still know it means something good.

7: Da Do Ron Ron - The Crystals
Another piece of babble that you just know means… something! All the great innocent pop has a sexuality bubbling underneath and you have to figure out what it means for yourself. Bruce Springsteen made it obvious that when they kissed, fire! But in Phil Spector’s teen symphony, when he walked her home, Da do ron ron! If you know what I mean.

6: Hey Jude - The Beatles
Perhaps a controversial choice, but any song where over half of the single’s 7-minute length is: ‘Nah, nah, nah, nananah nah, nananah nah, Hey Jude!’ surely has to count.

If that doesn’t work for you try…

5:  Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da - The Beatles
Far from being a twee nursery rhyme that some people consider it to be, it’s far more political than that. It’s easy to forget this was the time of Enoch Powel and his ‘blood in the streets’ speech. Paul McCartney’s simple story of a multicultural family being just as ordinary as can be, set to a calypso beat, was a sly put-down to all that. While John Lennon might have been more likely to just say, “Don’t be racist, you pigs!” Paul was a bit more subtle than that. Almost too subtle.

4: The Boxer - Simon and Garfunkel
No-one said babble songs had light or fluffy. Paul Simon has admitted the ‘Li-la-li’ chorus was a simply a placeholder for lyrics that never came, and his embarrassment about it. He shouldn’t be so hard on himself. It works. What I never understood was why in the middle of the chorus of this most gentle and sensitive song, there’s a massive drum hit drenched in reverb that comes at you like a punch in the face. Like a punch in the… oh, right. The Boxer. Now I get it.

3: #9 Dream - John Lennon
John Lennon was a master of nonsense. This is quite a talent. A silly, off-the-cuff lyric from Paul McCartney sounds like a silly, off-the-cuff lyric but John could write about semolina pilchards climbing up the Eiffel Tower like it was the most profound thing you ever heard. You’ve either got it or you haven’t.

In its wider context, the chorus of ‘Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse’ sounds to the monolingual ear like it could be a message to Yoko in Japanese. In fact, they’re just the words John heard in the aforementioned dream. Yet his delivery assures you that there must be more to it than just that.

2: De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da - The Police
Even as a classically trained post-punk in the late 70s, Sting took himself rather seriously. It’s tempting to think the title and hook of this song might be yet another pretention. It was on an album called Zenyatta Mondatta, after all. Mercifully, there was no deeper meaning. It’s simply a song about being tongue-tied before the object of one’s affections, and who can’t relate to that? It’s meaningless and all that's true.

1: Sussudio - Phil Collins
It’s still a boy-meets-girl song with a babble title and chorus. This time, the narrator invites the listener to say the word because it makes him feel so good. Try it for yourself. Go on, say, “Su-Sussudio.” Does it make you feel so good? Of course it doesn’t!

Phil Collins is problematic on a few levels but there’s no denying he completely nailed it here. Every single line and lick is a hook, and if the first keyboard riff bears a striking resemblance to Prince’s 1999, it’s probably no accident. This is probably the most-mid 80s song ever. You couldn’t design one better if you tried. You want to hate it but you can’t. Admit it.