Great albums: HEARTWORM by Whipping Boy

Each time that I listen to this album it creates a lump in my throat so fucking big it threatens to rip me apart. Heartworm (what a horrible word, really, yet can you think of a more fitting title?) just keeps going through my life, soundtracking various moments and situations and wreaking beautiful havoc. I first heard this album around fifteen years ago, and I do not think there has ever been a point when it hasn't spoken to me or hasn't filled me with a new degree of affection.

Heartworm is somewhat unique in the sense that nothing in the group's previous work pointed to it. Submarine, their debut, was bog-standard shoegaze album that did not distinguish itself by anything. You could speak about those early records by Pulp, too, yet even those had some very good material on them. You could bring up The Wrens, of course, but their two 90s showed promise. Whereas the conviction and the sheer towering quality of Heartworm came completely out of nowhere. 

Quite simply, you can throw a dart into that track list and tell me this is your favourite song on the album. I will believe you. That side A by itself annihilates most albums that got critical and public acclaim in the 90s. Each song is filled with personality, intensity, catharsis. "Tripped", for instance, just doesn't stop building up and delivering. The single "We Don't Need Nobody Else" would be a timeless classic even without that middle-eight but with it, it becomes phenomenal. And how about the ending of "The Honeymoon Is Over" where each repetition just grows and grows in intensity?

Side B, though, is just as good, and there will be days when I could tell you that "Users" is their best song, to only be disproven yet again by the Dublin Symphony Orchestra creating that relentless power that is woven into the magnificent "Fiction". Or else the more lyrical, subdued magic of the strings-drenched "Personality" which could really be the best ballad-type song on the album were it not for the closing "Morning Rise" that brings the whole thing to a beautiful melodic close.  

The lyrics, too, are some of the greatest I've heard on a rock album. Real drama, and pain, and anguish, and even occasional moments of disarming romance. Some of the more acerbic gems can be found in "We Don't Need Nobody Else" (I just have to quote this part: "They built portholes for Bono, so he could gaze / Out across the bay and sing about mountains / Maybe.") "The Honeymoon Is Over" is a devastating update of Chet Baker's "The Thrill Is Gone", and the blistering lyrics of "When We Were Young" need to be posted in their hair-raising entirety (because they are that good):

"When we were young nobody died
And nobody got older
The toughest kid in the street
Could always be bought over
And the first time that you loved
You had all your life to live
At least that's what you said

The first time you got drunk
You drank pernod and dry cider
Smashed a window in as the police came round the corner
You didn't have no time to run
And your dad stood up for you
As the judge said you're a fool

Babies, sex and flagons, shifting women, getting stoned
Robbing cars, bars and pubs, rubber johnnies, poems
Starsky and Hutch gave good TV
And Starsky looked like me

The first time that you stole
You stole rubber lips and tenners
Bought a radio then ran away for ever
Never felt so good, never felt so good with you

When we were young we had no fear
Of love nor sex nor warnings
Everyone was hanging out, everyone was sorted
When we were young nobody knew
Who you were or what you'd do
Nobody had a past that catches up on you

Babies, sex and flagons, shifting women, getting stoned
Robbing cars, bars and pubs, rubber johnnies, poems
Starsky and Hutch gave good TV
And Starsky looked like me

With a start he was awoken
From the middle of a dream
He's making movies in his head
That never will be seen
He's holding Oscars in his hands
And kissing beauty queens
What might have been
What might have been
When we were young"

Heartworm is so accomplished and powerful, it actually broke the group. On the one hand, the sales were not good enough, and the album sank into obscurity and became a cult classic. On the other hand, where could they go from here? (Actually, I'm also a big fan of their posthumously released third album, even if it is more of a collection of songs rather than a cohesive statement like Heartworm). 

In truth, I don't even need to listen to this record anymore to know exactly, second by second, how it will go. That sad, lonesome violin playing a vaguely Irish tune at the start, and then that deceptively tired rhythm and Fearghal McKee powerful voice... I know it so well I can play it all in my head. And yet a moment comes and I cannot resist. I press play and the whole thing blows me away for a millionth time.

"Жыццё ў дванаццаці апавяданнях"

Невялікае паведамленне. Выйшла нарэшце мая першая кніга, "Жыццё ў дванаццаці апавяданнях", якую можна набыць у электронным фармаце. Дарэчы, кніга выйшла яшчэ ў мінулым годзе, але ў продажы з'явілася толькі цяпер. Таму запрашаю на старонку выдавецтва (у Беларусі праз VPN): 

https://knihauka.com/pravalocki

Гэтая кніга месціць дванаццаць аповедаў, якія можна разглядаць як асобныя творы, але якія адначасова цесна звязаныя паміж сабой. Сувязь гэтая - жыццё беларускага мастака, якое праходзіць праз розных людзей, розныя падзеі і нават розныя кантыненты. Храналогія пазначана ў назвах апавяданняў: 1979, 1996, 2017... Апошні, дарэчы, пазначаны як 20..., бо невымоўнае зло можа здарыцца ў любы момант. Так мне падавалася, калі я пісаў "Вялікі шум", і так мне падаецца і сёння.  

P.S. І яшчэ кароткі анонс. Цягам года (спадзяюся, у першай яго палове) выйдзе мая другая кніга, "Цягнік да Познані". Гэта будзе ўжо іншае выдавецтва, і гэтым разам кніга будзе як электронная, так і папяровая. Пазней напішу крыху падрабязней. 

Peter Perrett in Madrid, 02.03

There are not too many things in the world that can beat the sheer adrenaline rush that runs into your head the moment that chugging guitar rhythm spells the beginning of "Another Girl, Another Planet". But if something can, it is Peter Perrett doing it live. 

I always knew I would have to be there. There was no way I would be scared away by the scandalous weather in Madrid (incessant rain, for days upon days) and avoid seeing Peter Perrett live on what may well be his final tour. There were just too many reasons for me to be there, really, not least because The Cleansing could be his greatest album ever and because ten years ago I was in this very city falling in love with his voice and the Only Ones' first album for the first time in my life.

After a brief warm-up performance by Jamie Perrett (he is really good, and has clearly inherited some of his father's melodic sensibilities), he appeared on the stage in the black baggy trousers and the black baggy T-shirt and the inevitable black glasses. This was a moment of pure electric shock. Not simply because he is one of my biggest music heroes but because even now, at the age of 72, he just looks so cool. At that point, and just as the band (which featured no less than two of Peter's sons) was about to lash into "I Wanna Go With Dignity", a man in front of me collapsed on the floor. Thank God, the recovery was quick and almost magical, and there was something both disturbing and oddly fitting about the whole scene.

And then it started, the hook-laden onslaught of some of the most raggedly melodic songs in existence. Once, remember, Peter Perrett wrote a song in which he brought together a wet dream and alien abduction and made it an absolute classic. While the song in question ("Woke Up Sticky") was not performed this Sunday night, the setlist was unimpeachable. Clearly his voice is more or less shot at this point. In fact, as he introduced "Heavenly Day" (I will reiterate: the song is every bit as good as Lou Reed's "Perfect Day"), he warned that it was going to test his vocal range. But it was all fine in the end. The cracked vulnerability was there, and I could not hold back the tears. 

The songs ranged from early Only Ones' classics ("The Beast", "Flaming Torch") to his latest album (besides the anthemic "Fountain Of You", he also did the amazing "Mixed Up Confucius" that had me screaming the lyrics at the top of my lungs). The band was good, too, and the flashy histrionics of Jamie Perrett would have been too flashy had it not been for the brilliance of his playing. He did not quite nail the solo of "Another Girl, Another Planet", I'm afraid, but everything else was a fucking hoot. 

Just two songs for an encore (with every drop savoured and treasured, of course), and that was that. A brief goodbye, and the long aftertaste of one of the best, most emotional concerts I had ever witnessed. Even the rain stopped for a little while, for the first time in days. 

 

February Round-Up

I'm actually writing this on the plane, so the writing may appear shaky and somewhat sketchy. Even dismissive. But then again... maybe that was the nature of this month?..

A Guided by Voices kind of month. Universe Room was everything you need to know about Robert Pollard's songwriting circa 2025. A decent lo-fi indie rock fare with a few flashes of brilliance. "The Great Man" in particular is a highlight and well worthy of your imaginary Guided by Voices compilation. A couple of lovely ballads, too. None of which could mask the fact that if you never cared in the first place, there is no reason why you should start doing so now. 

Apparently, House Of All are now going to follow the Fall work-rate and release one album per year. A noble aim no doubt, but after the excellent debut album from 2023, they have been relatively disappointing. House of All Souls is probably better than the previous one, but other than the driving opener "The Devil's House" and the slightly more downbeat last two songs, this lacks the oomph of their first album. I like the style, I just need better songs. 

The Murder Capital are now in danger of never realising their true potential. Blindness sports a great cover and three excellent singles ("Words Lost Meaning" is almost Whipping Boy-worthy) and lots of mid-tempo songs that blend together without leaving much of an impression. Make no mistake, Blindness is rather good, but my feeling is that they have an Irish classic in them. A Heartworm, perhaps. Well, maybe not that, but something a little more consistent. 

I'm still not quite sure about Squid. I found the edgy, tastefully disjointed post-rock of their previous album very intriguing, but Cowards lacks a bit in the songwriting department. The final three song punch almost saves it, but not quite. 

The Delines are doing great things, as ever, with their nocturnal vibes, soulful lyricism and excellent musicianship. Mr. Luck & Ms. Doom is yet another winner in their catalogue. The first side feels like a brilliant mood-setter, and the second side is absolutely phenomenal. The vocal hook of "Don't Miss Your Buss Lorraine"? The lilting piano line in "The Haunting Thoughts"? The unforgettable middle-eight of "JP and Me"? The classy groove of "Nancy & The Pensacola Pimp" bubbling with lyrical tension? The entirety of "Maureen's Gone Missing"? One of the albums of the year, surely. 

I understand that Sam Fender is now one of Britain's greatest music hopes, but I'm afraid I just do not hear it. People Watching is no different from his two previous albums. It sounds like a cross between The Killers and Bruce Springsteen, but lacks the edge of either. And The Killers never had too much edge to begin with. 

God knows what Nicky Wire and James Dean Bradfield are doing to their legacy with these late period Manic Street Preachers albums. Critical Thinking is just dull. It is dull when they are trying to do something different (like with the opener) and it is dull when they are being conservative (which is most of this album). I don't get it. Nicky Wire released a brilliant solo album two years ago, and now we are back to this. Bizarre. 

Songs of the month:

"Maureen's Gone Missing" by The Delines

"The Great Man" by Guided by Voices

"It's Amazing To Be Young" by Fontaines DC

"Words Lost Meaning" by The Murder Capital

"Hydroplaning Off the Edge of the World" by Destroyer

"Tipu House" by Jethro Tull

"Born At Dawn And Dead At Sunset" by House of All

Three films. Thumbs up.

First, I would just like to mention two that did not make this list. One is Lee, which apparently many people were too cool to appreciate. Various critics have called it too conservative or else boringly conventional, but I beg to differ. I loved this film. I loved the subject matter (and have long been interested in Lee Miller's work) and thought Kate Winslet gave one of her best ever performances (which does say something). Plus, how could you ever resist that ending? 

Also, not because it is a masterpiece or anything like that, but simply because the reviews were undeservedly cruel, I would just like to say a few good words about Slingshot. It is a harrowing sci-fi film about a mission to Saturn's moon that kept me on edge all the way through. Casey Affleck really is one of the finest actors of his generation.

The Brutalist / dir. by Brady Corbet

I'm sorry for the obvious pun, but this was indeed rather brutal. Despite the short 15-minute intermission, the length of the film (three and a half hours) was definitely a challenge. That said, I left the cinema completely overwhelmed by Brady Corbet's cinematic language. That of nervous half-truths, horrible hints, half-closed doors and devastating understatements. Each and every scene in the film, every conversation, is imbued with the director's unique voice. 

First time that it unsettled me was back in 2015, when I saw his powerful debut The Childhood of a Leader. With Scott Walker's pounding, unnerving score, that film felt like it was speaking a different language. Scott Walker is now long dead, of course (The Brutalist is actually dedicated to him), but the score still retains those grandiose qualities. It certainly goes well with the brutalist architecture that is at the heart of this story. The Brutalist explores many themes, from immigration to Holocaust to the difficult relationship between the artist and the moneyman. The scenes are memorable, expansive, like huge slabs of Italian marble.

As for Adrien Brody, he is of course brilliant. His face is this rich Pollock's painting of pain and anguish and tortured inspiration. If they give the Oscar to Timothée Chalamet, that's a fucking scandal.

A Real Pain / dir. by Jesse Eisenberg

I thought this would be a pleasant little trifle but A Real Pain turned out to be one of my films of the year. I have since watched it two times, and my love for it has not dwindled one bit.

Two American cousins undertake a trip to Poland (the film is lovingly shot, clearly Eisenberg admires the country - he has even applied for Polish citizenship) in order to explore their past. Their Polish grandmother had recently died and left them some money for just such heritage trip. In the process, we get caught up in the strained relationship between the two main characters. I do not think it would be a stretch to say that Jesse Eisenberg plays Jesse Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin plays Kieran Culkin. Which is not meant as a criticism. As a matter of fact, I could watch them for days talking on that roof in Lublin.

The film has some powerful and incisive things to say about the past and the Jewish experience (basically, Culkin and Eisenberg play two sides of a Jewish personality - one successful and well-off and the other lives with a packed suitcase by the door). There is one scene in Warsaw that some of our more conservative Polish comrades could find problematic, but I personally had tears in my eyes all the way through. Either from crying or laughing too hard.

The Seed of the Sacred Fig / dir. by Mohammad Rasoulof 

Even though I'm hardly an expert on Iranian cinema, I love what I have seen. Abbas Kiarostami has become one of my favourite filmmakers, and I remember being very impressed by A Separation a decade or so ago. 

Which is to say, it was not surprising that I ended up loving The Seed of the Sacred Fig so much. And also, being a Belarusian, how could I not? The film deals with a family living amid the recent Iranian protests in Tehran. The main character is given a high-profile job of an investigating judge which basically forces him to condemn innocent people to prison sentences and death penalties. This certainly takes its toll, and this is compounded by the fact that at some point the gun he was given at work disappears. The final third of the film will have you on the edge of your set.

It is impossible to speak about this film without mentioning that the film was shot in secret, and later the director had to flee the country on foot, and the main actress was sentenced to flogging. A hackneyed truth, of course, but still: the disgusting regime will fall, and I do not believe that anyone who has seen this film will ever forget it.

Three films. Thumbs down.

It is quite hard to watch a bad film these days. Not because there is a lack of them (far from it), but rather because it has become too easy to pick and choose your way and sort out the dreck after reading reviews, watching trailers and perusing critical ratings. There is a lot to be said for random cinema-going, but since I do not have enough time for that, these are probably the only three flat out bad films I saw in 2024 (which means it is entirely possible that Coppola's Megalopolis in not on this list simply because I chose to avoid it).

Drive-Away Dolls / dir. by Ethan Coen

It is, indeed, very sad that a Coen brother was involved in this. Namely, Ethan Coen, who directed this train-wreck of a road comedy about two lesbians who by sheer accident come to possess some important cargo. The cast is good, and from a certain angle it does have a feel of an oddball Coen brothers film. It is when you look closer that you see that this is just silly fluff that has none of the substance and the density of something like Raising Arizona. Besides, Margaret Qualley keeps doing this preposterous southern accent that comes off as a bad gimmick gone horribly wrong.

The film is bizarrely short (under 90 minutes) but it was a true slog to watch it until the end. There are maybe two jokes in the whole thing that land, everything else feels misguided and pointlessly vulgar. 

Hit Man / dir. by Richard Linklater

There were two films about hit men that I watched in 2024. One was called The Killer, starred Michael Fassbender, and was genuinely good. Chilling, powerful, understated. The other was the action comedy Hit Man which I switched off fifteen minutes before the end. 

I guess I simply do not get Glen Powell. He seems to be this hot new star who just appears bland to me. In Richard Linklater's latest, he plays a psychology professor turned undercover police officer whose job is to pose as a hit man to save a girl he loves. The premise is not even too bad but God this is such superficial nonsense that I spent one half of the film rolling my eyes and the other half thinking why am I doing this to myself? In the end, after no longer being able to endure the cheesy chemistry between the two main characters, I put myself out of misery. This was contrived and unfunny, and I'm a moderate Linklater fan.

Gladiator II / dir. by Ridley Scott

I was an impressionable teenager when the first part came out, and I loved it to bits. It may have been something more than that, in fact. An obsession. I was obsessed with the music, with Russell Crowe's voice, with Joaquin Phoenix's pettiness. Everything about it hit me where it was supposed to, and over the years I still tried to follow the crazy rumours of a possibly sequel supposedly written by Nick Cave (?), supposedly about Maximus in afterlife. 

Having watched the bullshit cash-grab that is Gladiator II, I guess they should have gone for Nick Cave's script. Gladiator II is way more silly and ridiculous than anyone's idea of an afterlife. It is, basically, just a series of admittedly effective fight scenes, laughable plot twists and characters repeating the 'Rome was a dream' phrase that is rendered completely meaningless by the end. Gladiator II is entirely devoid of emotional substance (it is impossible to care for Lucius, and it is not even a knock on Paul Mescal), and it only stirs something inside when the images and the music of the original film make their appearance.

Some people complained about the idea of sharks in the Colosseum. God, if that was the biggest problem...

Dylan: 10 best songs

It was with a very heavy heart that I went to see A Complete Unknown the other day. Two minutes in, though, and I was just happy to be there. I left the cinema with a spring in my step and the sound of about a dozen Dylan's songs playing in my head at the same time. 

That's right. I liked the film despite the fact that I'm still not convinced by Timothée Chalamet (I thought that his portrayal of Dylan was somewhat depthless and that he probably overdid that nasal thing), despite the fact that they did not do justice to Suze Rotolo (who was reduced to a Hollywood trope), despite the fact that towards the end of the film they seriously tinkered with history (a work of fiction is just that, though: a work of fiction) and despite the fact that I'm Not There still is the greatest Dylan film ever. 

What's important is that I found the whole experience so emotional I could barely hold back my tears during some of the performances (kudos to Chalamet for learning to sing and play all of those songs). I would even watch it all over again, at some point, even if I'm still not sure if that is because the film is great or simply because I love the songs so damn much. 

Speaking of which. I used to play this game back in the day: 10 best Dylan songs. There is of course no way you can ever hope to make a list like that without hating yourself or regretting those great choices you had to forego. But still. 10 best Dylan songs. As ever, the golden rule remains the same: not more than one song per album. 

Oh and as a bonus: I will attach my favourite lyric / verse from each song. Because, after all, this is Bob Dylan.

10. "Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again" (1966)

Dylan was in such an imperious form in 1965/1966 that almost any song from Highway 61 Revisited or Blonde On Blonde would do. "Stuck Inside Of Mobile" is infectious and intoxicating and could go on for a million more verses for all I care. 

Grandpa died last week
And now he’s buried in the rocks
But everybody still talks about
How badly they were shocked
But me, I expected it to happen
I knew he’d lost control
When he built a fire on Main Street
And shot it full of holes

9. "Blind Willie McTell" (1983)

That Dylan recorded this during the Infidels sessions and chose not to include it on the actual album is surely one of the biggest mysteries of the man's career. (For the record, Infidels is not as bad as they tell you.) "Blind Willie McTell" is a timeless folk classic that was released a decade later, as part of the third Bootleg Series collection.

Well, I heard that hoot owl singing
As they were taking down the tents
The stars above the barren trees
Were his only audience
Them charcoal gypsy maidens
Can strut their feathers well
And I can tell you one thing
Nobody can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell

8. "Love Sick" (1997)

Back in 1997, I did not even know that Bob Dylan existed. And yet I can probably imagine what a pleasant shock Time Out Of Mind was for people. After years of treading water, after a string of misguided albums and a couple of LPs covering folk standards, Dylan released a true stone cold classic. "Love Sick" is murky, minimalist and absolutely devastating.

I see lovers in the meadow
I see silhouettes in the window
I watch them ’til they’re gone and they leave me hanging on
To a shadow

7. "Changing Of The Guards" (1978)

I've been addicted to this song for far too long to omit it from this list. The strangely underappreciated Street Legal has other good songs ("Señor", "Is Your Love In Vain") but God do I love this one. Yes, with that booming production, those backing vocalists, that saxophone. The groove is endlessly ecstatic, and the imagery of the lyrics is awe-inspiring.

Gentlemen, he said
I don’t need your organization, I’ve shined your shoes
I’ve moved your mountains and marked your cards
But Eden is burning, either brace yourself for elimination
Or else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards

6. "Love Minus Zero / No Limit" (1965)

I would look with suspicion at anyone who doesn't think "Love Minus Zero / No Limit" is one of Dylan's very best ballads. 

In the dime stores and bus stations
People talk of situations
Read books, repeat quotations
Draw conclusions on the wall
Some speak of the future
My love she speaks softly
She knows there’s no success like failure
And that failure’s no success at all

5. "Tangled Up In Blue" (1975)

Famously, George Harrison was a fan of this one. And who wouldn't be? I personally love Planet Waves, New Morning and even Selfportrait (remember, Dylan was massacred for that one), but it was Blood On The Tracks that restored everyone's faith in Dylan back in the day. Quite simply, "Tangled Up In Blue" is a masterpiece both lyrically and melodically.  

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs
There was music in the cafés at night
And revolution in the air
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside

4. "Hurricane" (1975; live version from The Rolling Thunder Revue)

Dylan saw the violinist Scarlet Rivera playing in the street and thought she just had to be in his live band. And what a revelation she turned out to be. This political epic would be an undisputed highlight of next year's Desire, but Rivera absolutely tears it on this live version that can be found on the Live 1975 bootleg (which no person with even a passing interest in Dylan should be without). My head starts spinning when I just think about this performance.

Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell

3. "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" (1963)

This was very effectively done in the new film. As Dylan is recording the song, a studio engineer asks: "Who wrote this?" Dylan's manager gives the laconic reply: "He did". More than 60 years on, it is still mind-blowing that someone could put their pen to paper and just do it. 

Still I wish there was somethin’ you would do or say
To try and make me change my mind and stay
We never did too much talkin’ anyway
So don’t think twice, it’s all right

2. "Ballad Of A Thin Man" (1965)

I used to have a theory that even a Dylan hater would love this song. And I've actually known a couple of people who proved me right. I can't think of another song in which every lyrical line, every bang on the piano makes my spine tingle and brings on a new wave of goosebumps.

You raise up your head
And you ask, “Is this where it is?”
And somebody points to you and says
“It’s his”
And you say, “What’s mine?”
And somebody else says, “Where what is?”
And you say, “Oh my God
Am I here all alone?”

1. "She's Your Lover Now" (1966)

And yet I choose this one today, the Blonde On Blonde outtake (partly reminiscent of "One Of Us Must Know") that was first released in 1991. I don't even know why. I just remember that back when I heard it for the first time, I began to laugh uncontrollably. My stomach and my chest were actually contorting with nervous, stifled giggling. It has only happened a few times in my life. Some of James James' short stories did it. "Astronomy Domine" did it. Joaquin Phoenix's acting in The Master did it. Dylan did it with "She's Your Lover Now". I guess this is just my physiological reaction to what is commonly referred to as 'genius'. 

P.S. Plus, the abrupt ending is genuinely hilarious.

Yes, you, you just sit around and ask for ashtrays, can’t you reach?..