What is the best music ending in the number 5?

Here is the best music ending in 5. It's a list you didn't know you needed but now you very much definitely want a list of music ending in the number 5.

1. Jackson 5
2. Jurassic 5
3. MC5
4. The Furious Five
5. The song 9 to 5
6. Christian rock band Deliriou5
7. Ben Folds Five
8. The tune Take Five
9. Mambo Number 5
10. Stars on 45
11. Maroon 5
...a large gap, then...
92. The 1975

How would I score this list? A mediocre 5 out of 10. There are a couple of glaring omissions, which can be attributed to one of two reasons. Reason one: my research team got kidnapped by aliens halfway through their task. Reason two: There is no research team: I spent five half-hearted minutes on Google before posting, which explains why my list is poor. I'll let you decide which reason is true.

My tens of friends on social media were quick to point out my five-themed failings. Here is a selection of their responses.

Willie said: "Poor old Dave Clark", a sentiment echoed by Dominic, Paul and Tim. My list did indeed lack the Dave Clark Five, a London rock band that took on the Beatles during the British Invasion with hits like Glad All Over.

The Connells' flaccid earworm hit ’74–’75 was suggested by Paul, which is a reasonable shout. The vocal ensemble Apollo5 was offered by Rob, although their version of Only You isn't a patch on the versions by Yazoo and The Flying Pickets. And Miles suggested Levellers 5, a bunch of Lancashire indie rockers championed by John Peel. Quite good suggestions, I think.

Both Ian and Jon asked me why I didn't include the cheeky pop scamps Five. You'd think this was a good call, but Five disqualified themselves when they styled their name as "5ive", thereby placing their 5 at the start of their 5.

John Paul suggested the "five" segment for Sesame Street's pinball counting animation. Sarah suggested Enid Blyton's dog-bothering child adventurers The Famous Five. And my cousin Dave suggested "Half of Perfect Ten". All these people should be arrested for crimes against the number five.

I would make this into a series, going through every number in the history of numbers, but I would rather give myself a citrus enema with a carton of Five Alive.

Overall verdict? Five stars. Excellent work, me and my friends.

What's the tea on Mr Scruff's miniature tour?

In the battle to secure the future of independent music venues, Ninja Tune beat juggler Mr Scruff is doing his bit.

Tickets for Mr Scruff's upcoming tour will have a £1 levy designed to fund the grassroots music scene. As far as add-on costs go, better this than the bottomless black hole that folks like Skiddle call "administration fees". Charging to generate an e-ticket? Are you (s)kidding me?

He's calling his tour the Miniature Arena Tour, which is cute. His chosen arenas include Cosmic Slop in Leeds, Wylam Brewery in Newcastle, Sneaky Pete’s in Edinburgh, and the Snoggy Snotbucket in Lytham St Annes. One of those was made up by me. It's the Snotbucket one. But it definitely sounds like somewhere he should play.

The UK live music scene is in a bit of a pickle. Tonnes of places have stopped running events, and dozens are closing. The scene is woefully underfunded despite contributing squillions of smackeroonies to the UK economy and providing a social glue that stops a lot of things becoming unstuck during difficult times.

Mr Scruff's support for grassroots music is a good move, and it makes up for my one massive bugbear about Mr Scruff. He likes tea. He's always going on about tea. Tea this, tea that. Tea, as every right-thinking person knows, is horrible ditch-water that tastes like disappointment. I'd rather suck on Elon Musk's damp underpants. Yuck.

In the distant past, Mr Scruff was a shelf-stacker at a Kwik Save supermarket. My theory is that this job seeded his tea obsession. So beloved was tea to him, I reckon he stacked the tea bags extra neatly. Lined up those corners of the boxes nice and flush. The coffee shelves were scattered and wonky, and the hot chocolate section was a clutter of broken jars. But the tea bags? Those shelves were spotless, and if a customer dared take a packet of English Breakfast off the shelf, he'd bat their hand away. "My tea," he'd hiss. "My precious tea."

Anyway, he's a wrong-un when it comes to tea, but he's right about small venues.

While you're here, have a nosey at this old video about Mr Scruff (screenshot from Selectors: Mr. Scruff, above). You'll see his dog and his record collection and the concrete he puts under his decks and his iconic cartoons and lots of shots of Manchester.

Further Fats: There goes the hear: Manchester has enough gigs (2011)

Further Fats: Why did the Fat Roland cross the road? (2017)

Orbital's A Beginner's Guide: when compilations become a loop

The popular beat combo Orbital have released a new greatest hits album. It's called A Beginner's Guide and it's to help people begin their loopy journey with Orbital.

Let's be honest. I can be honest with you, right? We don't necessarily need another Orbital greatest hits. 2002's Work covered their classic era, from Chime to Funny Break. Warner Music put out the Halcyon collection for the US market in 2005. Orbital20 marked the duo's 2009 reformation, while a delayed thirtieth anniversary collection 30 Something dropped in 2022.

There's a lot of greatest hitting. That's two-and-a-half compilations for every member of Orbital. Or five compilations for every Phil Hartnoll out of Orbital.

But then, heck, why *not* bring out a new compilation? There are 140 million people born every year, and not a single one of them is an Orbital fan, what with them being newly born babies. The world is constantly being updated with potential new ravers.

The design of the album is gorgeous. A retro government information vibe, with musty overtones of library music. The artwork makes me feel like I'm living in the 1970s, but without the racism and the lead petrol. A doff of the hat must be given to Julian House at Intro, a design and film agency that has done work with The Prodigy, David Holmes and Marc Almond.

The sleeve notes for this album have been written by Professor John O’Reilly. It's not the first time Orbital have dabbled with an academic. Professor Brian Cox yabbered over 2018's There Will Come A Time. Professor Stephen Hawking partied with them at the Paralympics on Where Is It Going. There's even a track called Professor Clark Arrives on their underrated soundtrack to The Pentaverate. Orbital are like the pied piper, but for profs instead of rats.

So if you like the idea of buying a record that contains Belfast, Beached and Dirty Rat – plus Illuminate if you get the CD edition – purchase your copy from your favourite music emporium. 

Further Fats: Bleep Years day fourteen – Orbital's Planet Of The Shapes (2012)

Further Fats: What is the best track on Orbital's green album? (2022)

Dream Machines book launch covers the entire history of everything (and talks about cassette tapes for a bit)

The Manchester launch for Matthew Collin’s new book Dream Machines: Electronic Music in Britain From Doctor Who to Acid House^ was an ambitious affair.

The launch was held at the Louder Than Words festival^ on 16 November 2024. It attempted to cover every beat of electronic music history, from post-war experimentalism to the rise of techno. In a 90-minute event, this mission was doomed to failure, but that's okay – we had a jolly good time attempting the impossible.

On the panel, Matthew was joined by Graham Massey from 808 State, DJ and rapper Aniff Akinola, and member of Quando Quango, Hillegonda Rietveld. A bunch of sonic superbrains, wrangled by question-master and host Ryan Walker.

There was love for Daphne Oram. They discussed Barry Gray’s puppetry electronica. There were mentions of Cabaret Voltaire and Human League, of course. Respect for the “untutored electronics” of Hawkwind, the first band Massey saw live.

They highlighted contrasts too. The opposing tones of the cold Kraftwerk and the sensuous Stevie Wonder. Electronic music as being simultaneously music of the people and music of the avant-garde. And despite bleepy music breaking into the pop charts, they discussed the outsiders and the mavericks of electronic music culture. “I love it, and I love you,” said Collins.

Remember cassette-swapping culture? They touched on how the advent of cassette players fed the hobbyist scene, as people explored new sounds on their own terms. Indeed, Akinola said his childhood was devoid of pop music because of his parents’ religious beliefs, yet the family still had a top-end Aiwa cassette recorder because his mum wanted to record her pastor’s sermons.

And the huge, huge importance of dub music. “It was a new way of experiencing music as a listener,” said Matthew. “It changed everything.” 

Dub wasn’t easy to produce during its earlier development, said Akinola. “We had it harder in the old days, because we didn't have sound systems that physically assaulted you!”

What else? The list is long. I think it was Rietveld that mentioned using an LFO wobble as a rhythm track. They chatted about Malcolm X samples. About learning to cut tape as an editing technique. Blacktronica and West London broken beat. Gary Clail and Adrian Sherwood. The influence of StreetSounds compilations. “Voodoo rage” becoming “voodoo ray”. Mantronix using scratching samples at the Hacienda, much to the chagrin of other DJs in the room. Larry Heard’s “brutal electronics” arriving in our ears seemingly without origin. 

As you'd expect, the Roland TB-303 came in for praise. Its unexpected rise as an acid machine happened because people ignored its original intention as a bassline instrument.

Explained Akinola: “Its sonics are close to a saxophone which is near to the human vocal range. So it’s almost speaking to the human consciousness. This is why I think it was such a popular instrument, when it was used in the wrong manner.”

It was a proper Manchester event, with old Hacienda ravers present in the audience. Just before the launch, Akinola and Massey realised they had gone to the same secondary school, Burnage High. I didn’t say anything. I was a Parrs Wood lad.

As I'm a former bookseller, let's do a proper plug for the book. Dream Machines is "a paean to all the originators and early adopters of electronic music", according to Stephen Mallinder. '"A perceptive and highly entertaining breakdown of the crucial development of some of the most innovative music of my dreams," says Martyn Ware.

You can buy the book from all good bookshops^ and some evil websites.

Further Fats: Chosen Words – R is for Rhythm (2010)

Further Fats: I too am a book killer – the Manchester Central Library book disposal (2015)

Ultimate 90s number one: Things can only get Doopier

As I write this latest instalment of the Ultimate 1990s Number One contest, the world seems to have gone to hell in a handbasket. Which is a phrase that is thought to have originated from the practice of guillotined heads that land in baskets, as featured in an 18th century book by Winslow Ayer about civil war. Thanks, Wikipedia.

So with that bloody backdrop in mind, let's turn our attention to the painfully trivial task of deciding, of all 1990s UK number one singles, which was the bleepiest banging tune. Here are the latest contenders in this never-ending chart battle. Of the 120+ featured so far, only 15 tracks have made it through to the next round.

The contenders

B*Witched: Blame It On The Weatherman  |  Billie: Because We Want To  |  Boyzone: When The Going Gets Tough  |  Boyzone: You Needed Me  |  Chaka Demus & Pliers: Twist And Shout  |  Cliff Richard: The Millennium Prayer  |  D:Ream: Things Can Only Get Better  |  Doop: Doop  |  Puff Daddy and Faith Evans featuring 112: I'll Be Missing You  |  Robson & Jerome: Unchained Melody / White Cliffs of Dover 

God's number one

In a 2010 blog post about Christian music, I described Cliff Richard's The Millennium Prayer as "stripping the charts of all that is good and holy". This belch of Satanic nonsense paired the words of the Lord's Prayer with the tune of Auld Lang Syne, with all the grace of a vicar performing a baptism on roller skates. The song must be exorcised from this competition, like wot they did with that spinny head girl in that Tubular Bells movie.

 

Now, I'm not saying Boyzone are Beelzebub: that's for you to decide. Two of Boyzone's six 1990s number one singles appear in this selection. One is a Comic Relief cover of a Billy Ocean song, and one prevented Geri Halliwell's Look At Me from getting to number one. So mixed fortunes. But they have no place in a bleepy banger contest.

Not a massive tune

Here is another clutch of singles that I will gladly eliminate from this competition.

Despite versions by the Beatles, the Isley Brothers, the Tremeloes and Salt N Pepa, Chaka Demus & Pliers is the only group to get Twist And Shout to the top of the UK singles chart. Its one redeeming grace is that it knocked Mr Blobby off the top spot.

I described Unchained Melody as a "massive tune" in a March 2024 edition of Ultimate 1990s Number One. However, a cover of Unchained Melody by two blokes from the TV series Soldier Soldier that, incidentally, made Simon Cowell a millionaire cannot, on any level, be described as a "massive tune". Robson & Jerome? Nope.

In the video for B*Witched's Blame It On The Weatherman, the inoffensive songsters fanny about on a soggy juggernaut. In the week this topped the charts, Underworld's Push Upstairs made a brief appearance at number 12. Underworld should have been number one. They weren't. I blame this on the B*Witched women.

Time crime

The next two tracks are bangers. They are bangier than an old banger driven by a sausage which is also known as a banger.

Is Billie Piper a better Billy than Billies Joel, Ocean or Bragg? Yes, because she went and did time travel with that phone box doctor guy who wasn't a real doctor. The music video for Because We Want To had Billie prancing about in a UFO, which is way more impressive than a Tardis. Anyway, definitely a banger. But not bleepy.

Sting sued Puff Daddy after the rapper ripped off The Police for the Notorious BIG tribute I'll Be Missing You. This is not Mr Puff's worst crime. The lyrics are appalling as is his clunky rap flow. Also not his biggest crime. He prevented Bitter Sweet Symphony from getting to number one. Also not the biggest crime. Somehow, the song is still a banger.

Is it the best thing?

This leaves us with two chart-topping acts with electronic music credentials. But are they banging enough to get through to the next round of this competition?

The Dutch duo Doop had a massive smash hit for their electro swing take on the Charleston. Their follow-up singles appropriated easy listening and ska. The video for their single Huckleberry Jam had a fart joke. Nothing good came from Doop by Doop.

And finally, you can walk my path, you can wear my shoes... After its release in early 1993, D:Ream's Things Can Only Get Better took a full year to reach number one in the charts. It then lingered in our consciousness for years thanks to New Labour. However... 

Their debut single U R The Best Thing is a better song, with Cunnah's breathless vocal delivery (Cunnah pictured above). If that had been the single under consideration here, they'd be straight through to the next round. But Better? It's almost a banger, it's almost bleepy. But not quite there.

No-one makes it through to the next round of the Labour leadership conte-- er, I mean, Ultimate 1990s Number One. Shame. And I didn't even mention Professor Brian Cox.

More Ultimate 90s number ones 

Fat Roland's blog: happy 20th birthday

At the risk of raising your heart rate until your eyelids burst, I’m happy to announce that this blog is 20 years old today.

On 13 November 2004, in a post titled ‘Fat Roland’s blog’, I wrote 49 simple words heralding a new series of “blogs”, by which I probably meant “blog posts”. Blogging made sense: I'd spent much of my life as a journalist (see picture). And the rest, as no-one has ever said about any blog ever, is history.

On that same day, BBC weather bods promised the coldest night of the year. The Strokes and The Libertines dominated the front page of the NME. And it was the end of the Wu Tang Clan’s Ol’ Dirty Bastard, who died at far too young an age, as did John Balance from Coil.

Meanwhile, in my metaphorical basement, I was tapping away on my metaphorical typewriter. Early blog posts featured my under-developed thoughts on X Factor, Bill Drummond, Sandi Toksvig and, er, the Formula One driver Takuma Sato. A lot of it wasn’t that focussed.

In 2009, I decided to take my blogging seriously. Have you had one of those friends that suddenly becomes a knitter? They’re clacking out scarfs like a machine? This was me and blogging. I went from 50 to 140 posts a year, pledging to myself that I would post at least every three days.

My blog posts became more interesting. Speculation about Aphex Twin's new album. Guides to the Mercury Music Prize. being silly about The Prodigy, my bestest Warp tracks. critiquing Michael Jackson. An ill-advised pretend letter to James Blunt. A fake Autechre album leak. My sacking as a DJ and my debilitation from a stroke. Gaining MC Hammer and Barack Obama as readers (!) thanks to this post and this, or at least the people who run their socials. It has been quite the ride. 

I won’t bore you with the rest of this blog’s history, so here’s a precis of all the things my blog has led to. Think of this as a montage sequence, like wot they did in the A-Team. 2010: win blogging awards. 2012: become columnist for Electronic Sound magazine. 2014 and 2015: win awards for my spoken word gubbins. 2016: quit my day job to earn money from literature and performance. 2022: blog is infiltrated by the deep state, who use it to control your 5G. Okay, I made that last one up. I owe all of this to my bloggerising.

This blog still limps on, like a decrepit family cat that plops around the house in places you least expect. The site's view counts once reached the giddy highs of ten-thousand-plus, and have since dropped to the hundreds. A Blogspot page flattered by some Photoshop design is not "where it's at". I'm very much okay with that: it's a humble home but it's my home.

I asked ChatGPT to write me a tribute to blogging. A heart-warming paragraph extolling the joys of web logs. Here is what the AI came up with:

Blogging is a beautiful, chaotic celebration of personal expression. Whether it’s crafting whimsical rants or profound musings, each post offers the joy of connecting with the unseen. It's an archive of thought, a playground for creativity, and a space where ideas grow at their own unruly pace. Long live blogs!

And now, here is that same text rewritten by me, but with key words replaced with electronic music artists and/or animals.

Blogging is a beautiful, chaotic Sweet Exorcist of personal X-Press 2. Whether it’s Tomcrafting Whildchild rabbits or profound Mu-ziq, each polecat offers the Joy Orbison of Kon Kan-ecting with the unicorns. It's an armadillo of thought, a Playgroup for creativity, and a Spicelab where ibexes grow at their own unraccoony Plaid. Daddy longlegs LFO blogs!

Jeez, that was rubbish. Aaaaand that's how blogging works.

Pictured: Me (right) working at a newspaper in the mid-1990s. Cheeky news man Tristan Freeman on the left. Photo by Mark Waugh^.

Further Fats: Hammer time for Fatty Bumchops: how to blog properly (2011)

Further Fats: Blogging highlights 2004-2014 (2014)

Lunar tunes: Jon Hopkins sends his music to the moon

Not content with flattening audiences with his massive bass frequencies, Jon Hopkins will now attempt to destroy the entire universe by sending his music to the moon.

You see, Nasa have this box of memorabilia called the Lunar Codex, in which is stored tens of thousands of artistic creations. It's like the Blue Peter time capsule, the only difference being it's not in a garden, and its sodden contents won't be scowled at by a tortoise.

The Hopkins tune Forever Held will be one of the tracks rocketed to the moon as part of the Lunar Codex. The string sections on the track are by Ólafur Arnalds out of Kiasmos, so it's a double-whammy as far as I'm concerned.

It's a great track to choose. Forever Held is the kind of airy panorama that Hopkins is so good at, and the strings are truly moving. If anything, it's going to make any passing aliens blubber with emotion, their extra-terrestrial tears finally granting the moon that elusive liquid we've been hoping for. 

Nasa's Creative Director Erica Bernhard has made a visualiser for the track, which is just a fancy way of saying video. This will also be included in the capsule. She says Hopkins' composition "asks us to consider our place in the universe and our responsibility to the planet." No pressure, Jon.

It's not the first time Nasa have dabbled with dance music. Earlier this year, they hosted a 'Kennedy Under The Stars' techno party, which included a resident DJ in their Rocket Garden, a miniature golf course which had their colossal Apollo Saturn IB rocket instead of a lighthouse, and circus acts dressed up like the Blackpool illuminations.

This sounds amazing, so if the Kennedy Space Centre wants to invite me to the next one, I'm well up for this. I will dress up as Buzz Aldrin or a xenomorph or something, and if you're paying for my travel to Florida too, I'd like to go in a rocket please.

So well done, Jon Hopkins. Your music is venturing to the moon, trundling down and up craters like a disco Wallace and Gromit. Don your space helmet and watch the video for the track^.

Further Fats: The devil has all the best IDM: Jon Hopkins (2010)

Further Fats: Watching space from inside papier mâché (2016)

No Bounds Festival 2024 – a review

I spent the weekend at No Bounds Festival in Sheffield, marvelling at the splendour of the city's cathedral and revelling in the raves held in its grubby old factories.

This was my second trip to the festival. You can read my review below. What I didn't include is I treated myself to a hotel room with a proper veranda, I trilled with delight when I crossed its spooky Cobweb Bridge, and I had a smashing time having a pint with my mate Lee.

Also you can see me in one of the photos on the Electronic Sound website. See if you can spot me. It's like Where's Wally with emphasis on the wally.

I sit at a picnic bench in the cold night air. Surrounding me is a cluster of industrial buildings, and inside each of these is a rave. Dirty techno rhythms pulse from inside, and the windows dance with colour. In the relative peace of this outdoor smoking area, a student called Chris joins me and exchanges pleasantries. He tells me about the DJs he has seen here and the DJs he wants to see. In turn, I preach about the strange sounds I heard in the cathedral, and I ask if he is going to chapel on Sunday. He does not flinch. This is No Bounds Festival. It is no ordinary rave...

Continue reading my review on the Electronic Sound website^ – including the stunning full photograph by James Ward featured above