We're here. At last. The end of this nonsense. My top three albums of 2025.
At various points throughout the last couple of months, I considered naming each one of these my Album of the Year. They're each so different, there's no way to compare them... and choosing which one goes on top inevitably says more about me than it does about the record in question. Maybe the easiest thing to do would be to say they're all the top, in their own distinct way...
3. Panic Shack - Panic Shack
Panic Shack are four young women from Cardiff, and they sound like that on every song. There's a pop punk thing going on in the music, equal parts Ramones, Runaways and Donnas, with maybe a splash of Cerys, and not just because they're Welsh.
When I started this countdown with Wet Leg at #25 (although actually it turned out to be #26... so strictly speaking, Wet Leg didn't even make this list), I said how much I'd been looking forward to their second album... and how disappointed I was that it wasn't half as much fun as their debut.
The fun came when I discovered Panic Shack, who in their own way are covering similar lyrical ground to Rhian Teasdale... but with a lot more self-awareness and without the lack of a vague whiff of misandry that's begun to seep into the Wet Leg ouvre. And if you're going to name your song after a TV personality (Davina McCall?) at least do it for a valid reason.
I've no idea what it's like to be a young woman in the 21st Century, I can hardly even manage being a middle-aged man right now, but Panic Shack provide a witty and endearing peek into their lives. The issues of body positivity (or negativity) - stick thin vs. large boobs - crops up in a couple of tunes, leery blokes obviously get a look in, and the tragedy of jeans without pockets is obviously a huge issue. Whatever the subject though, Panic Shack always remember to make it fun. If only Wet Leg could have done that.
2. James McMurtry - The Black Dog And The Wandering Boy
So the reason I didn't want to make Panic Shack my album of the year was purely that it stank of Old Man Trying To Sound Hip. The next two records then are far more what you'd expect... both from artists who have previously topped a year end chart too. I don't think either of these albums is quite as good as their predecessor... but those records were career bests in my humble opinion, and it's very difficult to follow a career best with something even better, But - as discussed with Pulp - weight of expectation can be a killer.
Anyway, James McMurtry's latest. It's another cracker from the finest grizzled Americana storyteller or his generation... makes you wish he'd write a novel or two like his old man. He inhabits his characters so well, be they the jaded South Texas lawman who can't keep pace with modern times...
South Texas lawman, the work just ain't the same
Used to you could clock 'em good if they called you any names
Now he's up on charges for showin' 'em who's the boss
He reckons after Vietnam, we musta all gone soft
I used to be young
I used to understand
I used to be strong as any man
I used to be tough
Nobody bothered me
Now I've had about enough, this don't suit me
It don't suit me
...or the MAGA militia, weighed down by the chips on their shoulders...
Nowadays we're feelin' stressed
It's all for us and damn the rest
Tellin' each other have a blessed day
All camoed up and standin' tall
Buildin' bombs and border walls
As all collective conscience falls away
And they wave those stars and bars
Is that really who we are?
Sons of the second sons
Products of genocide
Polishin' up our guns
Payin' on double-wides
Sons of the peasantry
Tellin' ourselves we're free
Sons of the loyal serfs
Salt of the blessed Earth
In search of a savior
...or even a poor little grown-up puppet boy like Pinocchio, with all his innocence lost...
Pinocchio's in Vegas with his eye on the prize
He's a real boy now, his dick grows when he lies
But his face stays frozen like it's still made of wood
It displays no emotion as he cleans 'em out good
At that back room table most any Friday night
He don't even need the money, he's just in it out of spite
When the claims came to light, Pinocchio was blue
The lawyers had a field day, just like they always do
First, they tried to fleece him for a rainbow's worth of gold
He had to sue Walt Disney over copyright control
He got less than he wanted, more than they'd a-give
Both sides are bitter, both sides'll live
Along the way, he tackles depression, old age and the state of America today with world weary wit and wisdom. He even has a word to say about 9/11...
Annie, what you doin' in Nebraska?
Does anybody know what's goin' on?
Annie, what you doin' in Nebraska?
Trade Center's gone, Trade Center's gone
I never thought much of the younger Bush
He never seemed to have a clue
He sat there smilin' with that children's book
While they decided what to do
No one could find him 'til that big blue plane
Set down at Offutt AFB
We've all seen worse now, but his name's still mud
For goin' down that rabbit hole while Arafat gave blood
OK, let's stop there shall we.
There's one more record to go, but I might as well save it till tomorrow.
What else am I going to do on New Year's Day?
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