If the reports that the BBC will close down 6 Music are true, it is a great shame. Of course, this could be seen coming. The BBC has been utterly weak in almost every respect for the past few years, and it is difficult to escape the notion that it is too big, with too many outlets. Of course, when effectively forced to cut back, it will opt to close down the high quality products, rather than those that are merely popular.

6 Music is the only mainstream radio station where you can regularly hear genuinely experimental and alternative music on a regular basis. It is the only station that confounds expectations and delights in challenging the listener.

The Freak Zone is a jewel in 6 Music’s crown, dedicated to playing esoteric music from today and undiscovered gems from the past. For sure, it is a challenging listen at times — but that is the very point.

Similarly, Jarvis Cocker’s Sunday Service is truly unique. One of the most eclectic playlists I have ever heard is mixed with ponderings on, for instance, the sad beauty of abandoned Christmas trees.

I have effused before about Adam and Joe, which I think was genuinely the best programme on radio. These are just three of the must-listen radio programmes that 6 Music has brought us.

6 Music should have broadened its horizons

There is simply no commercial alternative. In short, it is precisely the sort of thing that the BBC should be doing.

In fact, I have in the past been critical of 6 Music for not being adventurous enough in the past. The BBC does, after all, already have three other major music radio stations, each of which is dedicated to playing different strands of mainstream music. There is, of course, nothing wrong with that. But this should have provided 6 Music with the opportunity to explore the outer reaches of music more freely.

Instead, 6 Music has ended up being slightly unsure of its role. It has come to attain a dual identity. One is that of a genuinely exploratory musical agenda, for discerning listeners who are passionate about the music they already love, and are itching to discover new music.

The other is that of a mere weakened popular music station with a vague indie bent. This aspect made it like a transition station for listeners who have moved on from Radio 1 but can’t yet bring themselves to listen to Radio 2. Hence the travesty of George Lamb. There are plenty of commercial alternatives for these people to turn to. This is an audience that doesn’t need to be catered for by the BBC.

Instead of trying to gain listeners with gimmicky attempts to cater for the masses, 6 Music should have set its sights higher by increasing its quality. It could be transformed into a station that is genuinely dedicated to music that you won’t find on other radio stations.

And there is no need to stop at music. It could encompass culture as a whole. Why shouldn’t such a station also champion alternative comedy, experimental drama and the like? It could be like a well funded version of Resonance FM.

Instead, the BBC appears to have taken the coward’s option. Instead of setting its sights towards enhancing the station so that it becomes a great hub for alternative and experimental culture, it has weakly chosen to throw in the towel. Instead of realising the potential of 6 Music and promoting it properly, the BBC has left it in a corner to gather cobwebs and eventually die.

The BBC’s disregard for experimental culture

This would be palatable if it weren’t for the fact that experimental music has been increasingly marginalised on the BBC’s other radio stations over the past decade as well. As if the passing of John Peel wasn’t enough of a blow to adventurous music on the BBC, the corporation appears to be determined to dismantle every last piece of its experimental music programming.

A decade ago Radio 1’s evening schedule was brimming with experimental music. But the station’s few remaining programmes dedicated to experimental music have all been shunted to shorter, graveyard time slots. To take just one example, Rob da Bank’s programme is on at the truly insulting 5-7am on a Saturday. Meanwhile, Mary Anne Hobbs’s Breezeblock is on at 2-4am on Thursday morning.

New experimental music has all but disappeared from Radio 3 as well. Since Mixing It was removed from the schedules, all that has remained is Late Junction, which has itself been marginalised in recent years.

In short, the BBC is doing less of the sort of programming it should be making, and replacing it with the sort of thing that ought to be left to its commercial rivals.

Absolute to the rescue?

The Times suggested that Absolute Radio may be interested in buying 6 Music should the BBC decide to close it down. It seems to me as though Clive Dickens was merely making a point about the inefficient way the BBC has run 6 Music.

But the idea that Absolute might acquire 6 Music and keep it alive is an interesting prospect. I have find myself being increasingly impressed with Absolute. I am sure that it has taken inspiration from 6 Music as it tries to re-build itself without the Virgin brand behind it.

Like 6 Music, Absolute thinks of itself as a home for good music (although in practice it just trots out middle-of-the-road dad rock). It mixes this with the use of comedians like Dave Gorman, Frank Skinner and Iain Lee as presenters.

This is the exact model that 6 Music has used throughout its existence. The station was launched by Phill Jupitus, who presented the 6 Music breakfast show for several years. Since then, 6 Music has been home to several comedians.

I find it doubtful that a radio station like 6 Music would flourish as a commercial operation. But if anyone can pull it off, it is Absolute. It would be fabulous.

The BBC has failed to convincingly promote digital radio. The lack of publicity is the real reason why 6 Music has so few listeners. Fewer than 10% of Radio 1 listeners are listening on a digital platform. When 6 Music is only available on digital platforms, it is no wonder it appears to perform so poorly. Only one in five people in the UK have even heard of the station. Hence Adam Buxton’s joke that it is “the secret station”.

Yet, over 54% of Absolute Radio’s listeners (approximately 31 minutes in) outside of London now listen on digital. The BBC, with all its supposed marketing might, has failed to generate anything like this sort of result, despite having shedloads of cash dedicated to the exercise.

The BBC is now weak and ineffective. It has failed digital radio, and it is now failing to commit to the very adventurous programming it is supposed to be dedicated to.

Warp Records celebrated its twentieth anniversary this year with an extravagant box set, Warp20 (Box Set). Measuring in at 10 inches × 10 inches × 3 inches, it truly is a thing of beauty. Packed in there are five CDs and five 10 inch records, full of Warp goodness old and new.

It was not cheap either, so was only for the most fanatic of Warp followers. Luckily for Warp, there are plenty of fanatical followers — myself included.

Warp20 (Chosen)

Also released separately as a 2CD album on its own, Warp20 (Chosen) is designed to be a collection of the best of the first twenty years of Warp Records.

The first ten tracks, making up disc one, were chosen by voters on the internet. As such, the top ten is sadly predictable. You really could have forecast in advance the inclusion of the likes of ‘Windowlicker’, ‘Roygbiv’ and ‘My Red Hot Car’ in the top three.

The inclusion of most of these tracks was surely never in doubt. Certainly, the top eight are bona fide Warp classics (I am not so sure about Jimmy Edgar’s ‘I Wanna Be Your STD’ or Clark’s ‘Herzog’, but I can understand their inclusion). There is also a noticeable skew towards the late 1990s / early 2000s. Only one track, LFO’s ‘LFO (Leeds Warehouse Mix)’, is from before 1998.

It is clear that the current fans of Warp Records — at least those who voted in the internet poll — are a bit like me. They were not around for the birth of the label, and cling on to the late 1990s IDM explosion as Warp’s classic sound. I think this is Warp’s best period too, but I would have preferred a greater variety in the first disc.

Luckily, the second disc is on hand to provide some of that variety. Label boss and co-founder Steve Beckett chose a further fourteen tracks which make up disc two. While all the usual suspects are again present and correct (giving the likes of Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada and Autechre two appearances on the compilation), other periods and genres are given rightful recognition.

Ultimately, though, while there are a couple of gems here that I didn’t previously own, Warp20 (Chosen) is a bit redundant for me, and no doubt for almost everyone else who bought this box set. If you are such a great fan of Warp that you are going to shell out eighty quid or so, you almost certainly need no such overview to the label.

Perhaps of more value is the fold-out poster of comments posted by the internet users who placed their votes, providing (relatively) qualitative information to accompany the raw top ten.

Warp20 (Recreated)

This is the surprise highlight of the package — a double-disc album of Warp artists covering classic Warp tracks. It shows you how far Warp has come in the past ten years. For its tenth anniversary, Warp released an album of Warp artists remixing classic Warp tracks.

But with a more diverse range of artists on its roster, and plenty of artists with a different set of skills, it seems as though it makes more sense to ask artists to do covers rather than remixes. The results are pleasingly wonderful. Clearly, when you take maverick musical geniuses and ask them to take on the works of other maverick musical geniuses, the results are going to be deliciously skewed and entertaining.

The album opens with Born Ruffians covering Aphex Twin’s classic humorous tracks from the mid-1990s, ‘Milkman’ and ‘To Cure a Weakling Child’. The band’s stripped down approach works surprisingly well. The vocals are shouted out as though from the rooftops, rather than being distorted by electronic effects, adding to the comedy effect.

Another surprise highlight is Maxïmo Park’s take on ‘When’, originally by Vincent Gallo. This is a wonderful piece of dark synth-pop. Hopefully it signals a new direction for Maxïmo Park, whose sound has otherwise become stale.

Meanwhile, Jamie Lidell’s version of Grizzly Bear’s ‘Little Brother’ is just as beautiful and organic as the original. It is another instance of an artist revealing something otherwise unheard in his audio arsenal.

But the real highlight of the album is ‘Phylactery’ by John Callaghan, which is based on Autechre’s ‘Tilapia’. This transforms one of the first signposts of Autechre’s foray into increasingly unique and obscure electronics into a wonderfully wonky pop song.

One instance where a remix may have been a better idea is when Luke Vibert tackled ‘LFO’. The results are actually rather good — undoubtedly a Luke Vibert take on a classic Warp track. But it certainly lacks the punch of the original. This makes it a slightly trudging, though intriguing, listen.

Overall, though, Warp20 (Recreated) is a marvellous document. It reveals sides to Warp artists that hadn’t been revealed before. It’s like peering into the fourth dimension of an already-extraordinary label.

Warp20 (Elemental)

This disc contains an hour-long mix of 65 Warp tracks, created by remix maestro Osymyso. A similar mix, by Buddy Peace and Zilla, was released five years ago along with the WarpVision DVD. Although Osymyso had five years’ worth of extra material to work with, I am less fond of his effort. Nonetheless, the creativity involved in creating such a mix, containing a diverse array of Warp music from the past twenty years, still astounds me.

Warp20 (Unheard)

Moving on to the vinyl in the box set, we have three ten inch records made up of eleven previously (sort of) unheard tracks. Incidentally, these are smartly presented with a minimalist design and debossed text.

The selection kicks off with Boards of Canada’s immersive ‘Seven Forty Seven’. This is not, strictly speaking, unheard. It was originally featured in an interactive Boards of Canada website several years ago. But it is the first time it has been presented as a track itself. It is so good that I can’t work out why it hasn’t been released before.

This is followed up by the equally exciting ‘Oval Moon (IBC mx)’ by Autechre. Named after IBC, the Manchester-based pirate radio station through which Autechre first made their name, this is real old school stuff. Having been produced in 1991, it is almost as old as the Warp label itself! And it’s excellent.

After these two stonkers, the rest of the collection does not quite stand up to the same level. But it is still a good listen. Fair efforts from Clark, Plaid and Flying Lotus are included, along with classic unreleased material from Elektroids and Nightmares on Wax.

Meanwhile, the plodding and uneventful ‘Sixty Forty’, originally from a 2003 Peel Session, is probably the most disappointing Broadcast song I have ever heard. The collection is rounded off with ‘As Link’, a new Seefeel track, whetting appetites for their rumoured comeback.

Warp20 (Infinite)

Musically, the box set is rounded off with a couple of records made up entirely of locked grooves. There are fifty loops in total, plundered from Warp’s back catalogue. It is an interesting experience to experiment with them for a bit, but probably of limited use to anyone who is not a DJ.

Warp20 (1989-2009) — The Complete Catalogue

The final item in the box is a large book that documents the artwork for every release on the Warp label. It is interesting to leaf through and assess how the label progressed over the years, and recall the memories of hearing all of this wonderful music for the first time.

Warp Records is almost as well known for its strong visual identity as for its music. There is some fantastic artwork in the Warp catalogue. While this book is not at all the best way to appreciate the artwork, it does serve as an excellent historical document cataloguing Warp’s classic covers.

Over the next four days I’m going to do what every other bore worth his salt does at this time of year, and that’s writing a big list showing off all the records I bought this year. I list them in reverse order of preference. Or I just put them all in a hat and drew lots. See if you can guess which. I might as well have drawn lots, because coming up with twenty decent albums that weren’t reissues of some sort was like shitting a building.

To be honest, it hasn’t been a vintage year for music. This year I’ve preferred to buy music from the past, because I worked out that there must be so much better music from the period zero to 2005 than music from today. Which is obviously true because even the top album on this list probably wouldn’t have made it into the top five of last year’s list. If I didn’t separate reissues and whatnot into their own separate list, they would have taken up most of the top ten.

Why has this year been so rubbish? Mostly because the media has been collectively masturbating to the boring drones of The Arctic Monkeys to the exclusion of almost everything else. These dullards are the future of music? I certainly hope not, because they could hardly sound less contemporary. It’s just like when The Strokes became huge five years ago for re-hashing the seventies. What is around the corner? There must be something… please?

Right. What you’re getting today is my list of top albums from #20–#11. The series will be rounded off with a top ten, and in between you’ll get a couple of other posts of other stuff. Enjoy!

20. FM3 & Dou Wei — Hou Guan Yin

A pleasant little album. There’s not much else to say about it. If you liked the music on the Buddha Machine, give it a shot. Even if you didn’t much like the Buddha Machine, you could well like this — although I’ve not spotted anybody else giving it much attention.

What I said about it at the time

19. Pulp — The Peel Sessions

You see, I couldn’t even resist including this one. Although it isn’t technically a re-release, there is not a single piece of music on this record that isn’t at least five years old. It compiles all of Pulp’s Peel Sessions — including the 1983 session which Jarvis hoped would never be released — and some other live bits and bobs. It’s certainly an interesting listen, even if they hit the odd bum note. A must for any Pulp fan.

What I said about it at the time

18. Plaid & Bob Jaroc — Greedy Baby

This audio-visual collaboration was hit by many delays, and it seems as though it was a right pain to make. Sounds like it will be a disaster, but it actually isn’t bad. Which is quite surprising really, considering how boring Plaid’s recent music has tended to be. Both the music and the visuals vary in quality from track to track, but overall this is not too shabby — as long as you’re not expecting too much.

What I said about it at the time

17. Malcom Kipe — Lit

I wasn’t too keen on this album at first. It seemed okay, but nothing particularly special. But I really grew fond of it. I found that it was a great album to listen to in the summer. Very nice stuff indeed. A bit like the Plaid album, as long as you’re not expecting anything revolutionary, you might well enjoy this.

What I said about it at the time

16. Clark — Body Riddle

The damp squib of the year. After all the hype, and the amazing Throttle Furniture EP that came out at the start of the year, this album was a bit of a disappointment. Perhaps this was because expectations were so high, but I just found this album a bit underwhelming. In fact, I thought the freebie EP that came with it, Throttle Clarence (a collection of music from the Clarence Park era), was much better! If you lump in Throttle Furniture and Throttle Clarence, Body Riddle would easily enter the top ten; maybe even the top five. Body Riddle on its own, though, is a disappointment.

What I said about Body Riddle and Throttle Clarence at the time
What I said about Throttle Furniture at the time

15. London Sinfonietta — Warp Works & Twentieth Century Masters

This is yet another album where none of the music came from 2006. Oh well. This is a compilation of highlights from the celebrated Warp Works concerts that explore the links between contemporary electronica a la James and Jenkinson and ‘avant garde’ composers of the twentieth century such as Steve Reich and John Cage. There is plenty of interesting music here. I know I’ll certainly be investigating Karlheinz Stockhausen more in future. Perhaps the most intriguing parts of the album are the bits where classic Aphex Twin and Squarepusher tracks are re-worked for acoustic and performed by London Sinfonietta. The results are sometimes patchy, occasionally rewarding — but certainly interesting.

What I said about it at the time

14. Thom Yorke — The Eraser

It’s certainly been a good year for frontmen to be breaking away from their successful bands to pursue a solo career. Yorke is the first of three in my list, but his was the most disappointing album. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting too much. To be honest, it is quite an average album. But there are some great moments. My particular favourite is ‘Black Swan’, which like grey funk; cold but groovy. There is too much of the old fuzzy pampered rockstar politics as well. He ensured that carbon emissions were kept to a minimum, and he did this by chopping down more trees than was strictly necessary.

13. Boards of Canada — Trans Canada Highway

A lot of people have gone off Boards of Canada now. I guess the novelty has worn thin. I thought The Campfire Headphase was pretty poor, but the Trans Canada Highway EP is a little gem in my opinion. It gives you what you’re looking for as a Boards of Canada fan, without resorting to re-hashes or minor variations of their most-loved albums. What a track ‘Skyliner’ is!

What I said about it at the time

12. Hot Chip — The Warning

This album is proof that all a half-decent band needs to get exposure is a major label deal. Everybody is banging on and on about Hot Chip at the moment — and for good reason. This is quite a good, enjoyable album. But I prefer their previous album, Coming on Strong. I shouldn’t complain though. It’s great to see such good music getting so big. So full marks in that respect.

11. DAT Politics — Wow Twist

This was my introduction to DAT Politics. I didn’t like this album much at first. Its pace was unrelenting, and there was very little variation in style (with the exception of ‘Fake Friend’). But after a while it really grew on me. If you like brash and colourful electronics, you can’t really afford to miss this.

Right, that’s the first ten sorted out. Tomorrow I will bring news of three sloppy turds.

For a band that’s been on ‘hiatus’ for the past five years, there has been a remarkable amount of activity on the Pulp front. Jarvis Cocker’s solo album is due to be released very soon. Pulp’s three most popular albums — His ’n’ Hers, Different Class and This is Hardcore — have recently been re-released, each with an extra disc of bonus b-sides, rarities and suchlike.

It’s a bit odd, because when Pulp’s greatest hits album was released a few years ago it didn’t even enter the top 70. But they must have decided that enough time has passed for people to get nostalgic about Pulp.

The £15+ per go I’m being asked to pay for the re-releases of albums I already own from a period when I was such a big Pulp fan that I own all of the b-sides anyway is a bit much. I’ll wait for the prices to come down. But when I was browsing in Virgin the other day I spotted this CD in the corner of my eye and I jumped on the chance to buy it.

It is the ‘complete’ set of Pulp Peel Sessions. It certainly feels complete with two CDs and twenty-nine tracks spanning twenty years. Most people are probably unaware, but Pulp were actually formed in the late 1970s. Their first Peel Session was in 1981, about fifteen years before anybody else had heard of them! Pulp also hold the dubious honour of having the longest gap between their first and second Peel Sessions — a fist-gnawingly long twelve years. Ouch!

Jarvis Cocker has always let it be known that he thinks that Pulp’s material from the 1980s is poor. I quite like most of it. The only genuinely dodgy album of theirs is Separations, their misfiring experiment into acid house territory.

In the liner notes to The Peel Sessions, written by Jarvis himself, he says that he has always resisted the release of Pulp’s first Peel Session because it sounds naive. Perhaps inevitably, it’s the most interesting aspect of the CD. I am actually quite impressed with these songs, performed by a band whose members were still in their teens (the drummer was 15). It certainly could have been a lot worse. Jarvis had nothing to be embarrassed about.

‘Wishful Thinking’ is probably the strongest song, although ‘Refuse to be Blind’ is an interesting glimpse into the slightly experimental approach that Pulp were taking even in their very earliest days. It does sound as though they were a bit overawed by all of the equipment they had at their disposal, but it doesn’t sound too bad for it.

With the first session out of the way, we skip a decade to the period when Pulp were first getting noticed in wider circles. The contrast is huge. It is a very different band. Jarvis is the only member remaining from the original lineup. These performances from the mid-1990s are not actually particularly strong. Cocker sometimes appears to forget his words, or miss his cue. Instead of putting in a quality performance, Cocker relied more on his charisma.

I can’t help but feel that most of Pulp’s eventual success was down to Cocker’s charisma. His famous idiosyncrasies, absent from the 1981 session, are in full force in the later sessions. Of course, the songs themselves aren’t bad. But it doesn’t quite sound like the Pulp most people probably remember.

The performance of ‘Common People’ is especially jarring. It sounds nothing like the powerful epic that would go on to make Pulp the kings of Britpop. It sounds like a really hastily-organised first rehearsal; a cheaply put-together demo tape. It starts of with a weak synth intro and Jarvis’ performance is nowhere near to being the rip-roaring interpretation that made the song what it was. It generally sounds as though their hearts aren’t in it. Imagine if the song had been produced by somebody else — they might never have been as big as they became.

Their later, post-success performances, are easily the most impressive on this collection. It exhibits a more back-to-basics, down-to-earth and comfortable band. They were no longer desperately seeking success, and they were no longer trying to cope with the success when it eventually came.

While We Love Life was not as popular as their previous three albums, I feel as though some of their strongest material came from this period. The assuredness of these performances echo this. ‘Duck Diving’, essentially a charming short story read out by Cocker, is a particularly good inclusion. I had not been aware of the existence of this at all.

CD2 is made not of conventional Peel Sessions, but of special concerts broadcast on Radio 1 including a celebration of John Peel’s 40^th anniversary in broadcasting. Sadly, as we know, there weren’t to be many more years. The inclusion of a jokey remark from Cocker that their performance of ‘Help the Aged’ is dedicated to Peel is a tad unfortunate. Luckily, when it’s all over we hear Peel himself make a sarcastic remark about it.

Although Pulp’s limitations as a live act are exposed here (for instance, what is going on in that out-of-tune performance of ‘Common People’?), these live performances are generally stronger than the actual Peel Sessions themselves. It’s a fairly broad selection of songs aswell. In a way we have been treated to a Pulp live album of sorts.

All-in-all, The Peel Sessions is a great album. It not necessarily great because of the quality of the music. But it is certainly an interesting document of Pulp’s evolution. We see three distinct phases exhibited on this album — from the slightly lackluster experimenting youngsters to the popular Britpoppers to the more mature, post-success, relaxed band that went on hiatus in 2001.

A very good documentation of the career of one of the key bands of the 1990s as filtered through the ears of John Peel.

• Pulp on Keeping It Peel

Radio 1’s revamp

Radio 1 have announced changes to their specialist schedule. But we don’t really have a full picture of what their plans are; just a few little headline-grabbing snippets.

As far as I can tell it is a refinement of the current system which sees a different genre assigned to each day (rock music on Tuesdays, urban on Wednesdays, dance on Thursdays). Recently Radio 1 added an ‘experimental’ section to their website alongside the other three. Radio 1 have quite a liberal interpretation of the word ‘experimental’. It seems to mean anything that isn’t utter shit.

Steve Lamacq has been removed. Thank goodness for that. I can’t stand the man. He belongs on 6Music, where nobody can hear him. The removal of Lamacq Live presumably frees up Monday to be used as another genre-dedicated day. So we’ll be seeing a dedicated experimental music strand, which is good news.

There is a clue here: Mary Anne Hobbes is moving to Thursday nights with a new show dedicated to “experimental dance music”. If you ignore Mary Anne Hobbes’ awful yapping, her Breezeblock programme is one of the best on Radio 1.

Chris Coco is leaving Radio 1 in September. He currently presents The Blue Room, which is a good programme although it’s difficult to listen to because of its timeslot (5am–7am on Saturday and Sunday mornings). I preferred Rob da Bank doing that programme though. Whenever I listened to Chris Coco he always seemed to be playing his own music.

Colin Murray is going to present a daily new music show from 10pm–12am. This effectively makes Colin Murray the first permanent replacement for John Peel, although everybody involved will probably be trying to avoid that comparison.

I don’t mind Colin Murray, but I’m not sure he’s the right choice for the late-night music slot. It seems to me like they have decided to drag a ‘face’ into the slot to attract fickle listeners. Will the quality of the music remain the same with Murray at the helm?

There is a new hour-long programme called In New Music We Trust which will be concentrating on a different genre each day. It sounds like a disaster already. It has a bad name and an hour doesn’t seem long enough to me. Without knowing more about the programme I can’t say much, but it sounds like a watered-down OneMusic.

DJ Martian sums it all up here. As his post shows, these announcements leave many holes yet to be filled, so it’s difficult to know what Radio 1 will sound like in the autumn.

Update: The Complete New Radio 1 Schedule. This actually looks like a disaster now. ‘In New Music We Trust’ now looks like a way of gently killing off the station’s dinosaurs.