The Best Things I Saw, Read, Heard & Played Each Year from 1985–2024, probably.
It's my autobiography in entertainment, based on Memory, Research, Guesswork & Existential Anguish.
These are the cultural highlights that were most important to me At the Time (Aged 0–38), plus retrospective overall picks.
Importantly, many best things of the year Weren't Actually Released in That Year, because there are loads of other years to catch up on and I'm not some zeitgeisty freak. No, I am clearly normal.
Updated in Real Time 'til I die, lose control of my faculties or decide there are better things to do, whichever's most likely.
1988 – Postman Pat (1981–82)
1989 – The Real Ghostbusters (1987)
1990 – Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles seasons two and three (1988–89)
1991 – Thunderbirds (1965)
1992 – Bits of The Simpsons (1989–90)
Too exciting for terrestrial TV, we could only get glimpses by hanging out with rich kids who had Sky or buying/renting the stingy two-episode tapes, overplayed to get your money's worth. On regular TV, Turtles wannabe Toxic Crusaders (1992) was another one-season wonder, The Fiddley Foodle Bird (1992) had quite a long name you could unimpressively learn if you were that kind of child, The Tomorrow People (1992) was more intriguing sci-fi than Watt on Earth (1992), Uncle Jack and the Dark Side of the Moon (1992) was the best of those, and junior Red Dwarf SpaceVets (1992) would make do until the real thing came along. Stingray (1964) was an acceptable substitute when the BBC ran out of Thunderbirds (1965–66), but I didn't care for Captain Scarlet. Mr. Bean was big over Christmas, we had the blue video (1991).
1993 – The Animals of Farthing Wood series one (1993)
My generation's Watership Down, this uncompromising survival serial was probably the first time I was really gripped by a programme. Though, for whatever reason, I decided that vintage Tom and Jerry (1940–67) was going to be the thing I was "into" this year, for want of an organic obsession before Steven Spielberg's dinosaurs stampeded in over the summer. I got a video and some comics. Rugrats (1991–92) and Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) were other hot new cartoons. The Beano Video (1993) was a big deal. Mr. Blobby's video pathetically ripped off Mr. Bean, but we still laughed, idiots.
1994 – Red Dwarf VI (1993)
1995 – Bottom series two and three (1992–95)
I now had my very own telly in my bedroom, so was free to watch mature programming (debatable, in Bottom's case) any night of the week, provided I did it sneakily. The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer (series two, 1995), Shooting Stars (series one, 1995) and an episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus ('Deja Vu,' 1970) aren't the strongest exhibits for maturity either. Blackadder Goes Forth (1989) shockingly killed off Mr. Bean, Goodnight Sweetheart (series two and three, 1995) probably seems more clever when you're a kid. Beyond comedy, Agent Scully's abduction arc (season two, 1994) was the height of nostalgic X-Files, Chiller's 'The Man Who Didn't Believe in Ghosts' (1995) scared the shit out of me, and I bought some Cosgrove Hall videos on holiday to relive my lost youth.
1996 – Alfred J. Kwak (1989–90)
I'd seen a couple of episodes in the past, but a very-early-morning summertime repeat run was a chance to take in the full bildungsroman (bill, like a duck's bill). The Spider-Man cartoon was also surprisingly satisfying in its sprawling season-long serial (season two, 1994–95) and Agent Z & the Penguin from Mars (1996) was my favourite CBBC drama in a few years. On grown-up TV, Mission: Impossible (1966–73) was ingenious when it wasn't ridiculous and The X-Files started to get complicated (seasons two and three, 1995–96). The Americanized Doctor Who pilot "movie" (1996) was watchable, but I wasn't disappointed when no series materialised. The Only Fools and Horses "finale" trilogy (1996) was a satisfying ending, so I was disappointed when further specials materialised.
1997 – Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987–94)
Radicalised by First Contact, the BBC's qui-weekly transmissions of all four 'Trek series (1964–96) became required viewing, supplemented by video purchases and rentals since it took most of the year for repeats to reach good TNG. Sliders (1995–96) and assorted Quantum Leap (1989–93) were good Trek bookends. The long-awaited Red Dwarf VII (1997) was a disappointment, but Jonathan Creek (series one, 1997) was a new keeper, The X-Files (seasons three and four, 1996–97) was still good, and I was non-ironically fascinated by the Teletubbies (1997). I caught up on scattered old-school 'Dwarf and Blackadder (1985–91) courtesy of my new school's library, and tardy BBC Simpsons eventually crawled out of the old VHS era (seasons one to three, 1990–91).
1998 – Star Trek: Deep Space Nine seasons five and six (1996–98)
1999 – This Morning with Richard Not Judy series two (1999)
My life after university would have branched completely differently if I hadn't happened to catch this subversive Sunday lunchtime show at the right impressionable age, made the annual pilgrimage to see them in Edinburgh every year as a student and later decided I might as well live there. It was funny too, and no small achievement to win the year that also saw the debuts of The League of Gentlemen and Bang, Bang, It's Reeves and Mortimer and the ends of Deep Space Nine (in a Christmas video binge) and golden-age X-Files (season five on the BBC, 1998). I also liked Operation Good Guys series two (1999) and caught up on Big Train (1998), Ali G (1998–99), Kevin Turvey (1981) and more classic Red Dwarf (1988–92), which was better than new Red Dwarf.
2000 – The League of Gentlemen series two (2000)
I preferred the first series, but the League continued to push serialised sketch "comedy" to new extremes with memorable monsters like Papa Lazarous and Herr Lipp, the latter making me feel justified in bringing the video along on a school Germany trip where the teacher provided reluctant but helpful translations. At a friend's sleepover, I exchanged sleep for completing Red Dwarf courtesy of his dad's videos (1991–93) and caught the few episodes of Rex the Runt (1998) I'd missed by staying up recklessly late on school nights. The X-Files season six (1999–2000) was the last of the classic years I really bothered with and I abandoned Star Trek: Voyager before the end too (season six, 1999–2000). In the mainstream, Big Brother series one (2000) was an interesting experiment that surely didn't need to be repeated and Derren Brown started this year, so take him as read generally going forward.
2001 – Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997–2001)
When I caught bits of episodes on the BBC over the years, I found this series strangely intriguing but knew I wasn't supposed to be watching, because it was a girls' high school programme. Eventually, my brother bought some videos and showed me 'Hush,' and I was on board. The Office was the big comedy that year, and the Brass Eye special a landmark, but the super-low-budget, self-absorbed, pointless quest of The Dave Gorman Collection spoke to me more at the time. The Tom Green Show (1994–2000) tickled different funny bones, but would mainly make me tut nowadays. I caught up with the last of classic ('90s) Simpsons courtesy of a friend's Sky box, but mainly watched music channels. Tool had the best videos.
2002 – Stargate SG-1 (1997–2002)
2003 – Farscape (1999–2003)
Similar to Buffy, I caught a couple of bad episodes and dismissed this series, until it got cancelled on a cliffhanger and my brother's description of the weird way they'd ended it made me curious to check it out. Having exhausted the good years of Stargate on DVD (1998–2001), I suddenly had a new show to be obsessive about. Family Guy (1999–2003) was my other favourite new-to-me show to collect on DVD back then, then I outgrew it before it returned. For want of official Lee and Herring DVDs or videos, I bought blocky .wmv files off eBay to see Fist of Fun (1995–96) and the rest of TMWRNJ (series one, 1998), downloaded the one episode of Bottom I'd missed in childhood, which turned out to be the best ('Gas,' 1991), and QI (2003) was quite interesting for a decade or so, before I lost interest.
2004 – I'm Alan Partridge series one (1997)
I'd enjoyed series two at the time as much as your average person who incessantly quotes it, but the first series is on another level and became one of my favourite sitcoms when I saw it belatedly on the Paramount channel after our household belatedly went digital. Paramount was also helpful for filling in the rest of Monty Python's Flying Circus (1969–74) and The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer (1993–95) that I hadn't seen growing up. The episode with Vic & Bob's "secret" factory tour is the closest I've come to laughing myself to death. Lee Evans live videos (1994–2002) were most amusing and Brass Eye (1997) was my most watched DVD outside of the Red Dwarfs. Farscape: The Peacekeeper Wars (2004) was alright, but I preferred things ending on the bleak cancellation cliffhanger.
2005 – Spaced (1999–2001)
2006 – Twin Peaks (1990–91)
I was fifteen years late to Peaksmania, but this fusion of eerie supernatural horror, quirky detective procedural and trashy soap captivated me all the same. Until it became unwatchable overnight half-way through the second season and bloodily crawled its way to deserved cancellation, shame. Lost also got its hooks in me when catching up on the first two years on DVD (2004–06), but then it started to follow Twin Peaks' downward trajectory and was getting insulting. They'd pull it back next year. I also watched some Classic Doctor Who (70s–80s; stubbornly not the new one) and lots of random Seinfeld (1989–1998) on YouTube. Derren Brown's Something Wicked This Way Comes (2006) blew my mind. Time Trumpet (2006) could have been better, but I'll take it.
2007 – Peep Show (2003–07)
I got off on the wrong foot with David Mitchell in Bruiser (2000), because he looked like someone annoying from school. But school was years ago now, and I was ready to appreciate one of the all-time great sitcoms at its peak. I also caught up on six years of Curb Your Enthusiasm (1999–2007) and three years of New Doctor Who (2005–07) in the autumn. When the quality sharply increased in the latter half of series three, I had to accept, however grudgingly, that I was in for life now. Never mind. Lost's third year (2007) similarly ramped up towards the end with a classic cliffhanger. Police Squad! (1982; in color), The Armando Iannucci Shows (2001), Noble and Silver: Get Off Me! (2001), Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (2004) and Extras (2005–07) were briefer binges.
2008 – Lost season four (2008)
This fuzzy, dawdling series suddenly came into focus when the writers were allowed to set an end date. The strike-afflicted fourth year was the shortest they had, which made it even sharper and my favourite run by far. Doctor Who's fourth series (2008) was a guiltier pleasure until Steven Moffat's ace library two-parter reminded me why I was sticking with it, and his Jekyll (2007) was fun too. Peep Show's fifth series (2008) might have begun the decline, but not to the extent that it wasn't still the best comedy going. I made my zombie-loving friends watch Dead Set (2008), so I must have been watching Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe (2006–08). The Comic Strip's 'Bad News Tour' (1983) and 'Mr Jolly Lives Next Door' (1988) were classic vintage telly.
2009 – Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle (2009)
I was happy for Stewart Lee, getting the almost totally uncompromising stand-up series he deserved, but happier for myself getting to watch it for however long it was allowed to last (longer than expected). Lost got too obsessed with its own mythology in its fifth year (2009), but was still the most addictive thing on TV. Newswipe with Charlie Brooker (2009) made me start paying attention to the real world, Carl Sagan took me on a personal voyage through the Cosmos (1980), The Lost Room (2006) was a fun little miniseries and I watched all of Deadwood (2004–06), a curious entry but more worthwhile than the tons of mediocre sci-fi I sat through. Jonathan Creek beat Red Dwarf in the '90s TV revival specials (2009), Psychoville (2009) was fun, but a bit of a difficult second album, Peep Show (2009) was probably good.
2010 – Battlestar Galactica (2003–09)
I didn't consider watching this remake of that crap-looking Star Wars rip-off from the '70s until it kept getting relentlessly recommended, then I burned through it obsessively in a few weeks. To cram in other favourites buried in this disproportionately strong year, Doctor Who was rebooted again (2010) and the best it had ever been or likely will be, Sherlock (2010) was a new treat that's always worth keeping an eye out for, Arrested Development (2003–06) and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (2005–10) buried the old joke about lame American sitcoms for good, Lost (2010) ended just fine, shut up, Mid Morning Matters (2010) was a triumphant return for Alan, and An Idiot Abroad (2010) was therapeutic when I experienced some of the same frustrations in the same places.
2011 – Doctor Who series six (2011)
It wasn't the best or most consistent TV series I watched in a year that saw the first and still best run of Black Mirror (2011) and catching up on three years of America's finest drama Breaking Bad (2008–11) and two years of America's finest sitcom Community (2009–11) before continuing with those. It wasn't even as good as the previous year's Doctor Who. But this colourful children's time travel family sitcom was a treasured travel companion on cross-country bus journeys, and this year's over-egged over-arching plot was right up my street, even if they dropped the ball part way through and it rolled inaccessibly under a cabinet by the end of the year. It would never be this special again. Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle and Psychoville also made strong returns, but not as exciting, obviously.
2012 – Louis Theroux documentaries (1998–2012)
This year or last (but I think his 2012 porn update was out already), I watched some sensible TV for a change. I still haven't watched all of his stuff, it can get a bit much. More trivially, Sherlock returned with a second mixed bag to help us manage Doctor Who's decline, though I still liked some of those episodes. Red Dwarf X was the sitcom's best run since 1993, which isn't the highest bar, but I felt euphoric when nervously watching the first episode in a hotel room in Hanoi and realising it was actually good. Breaking Bad was getting less funny but more gripping and Derren Brown did some interesting Experiments (2011) before a misjudged zombie nadir (2012). And not not technically telly, but Stewart Lee: Carpet Remnant World (2012) was the first of his shows in recent history that I hadn't got to see live before watching on a screen.
2013 – Breaking Bad, The Final Season (2013)
2014 – Black Mirror, 'White Christmas' (2014)
I watched all of The Twilight Zone (1959–64) around this time, which is deservedly legendary even if it has as many misses as hits, but Black Mirror's festive portmanteau was better than all of those, with an ending that's equal parts hilarious and unimaginably horrific. Inside No. 9 (2014) was a very welcome addition to the anthology fold, but its peaks were yet to come. Masters of Horror was also high quality, but I didn't require more after the first year (2005–06). The Doctor Who cycle entered the recovery phase with its eighth series and Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle returned weirder than ever in its third (2014). I liked Broadchurch too (2013), mainly for the scenery and soundtrack though. Watching/rewatching One Foot in the Grave (1990–2001) made me belatedly appreciate one of the classic sitcoms.
2015 – Doctor Who, 'Heaven Sent' (2015)
2016 – Taskmaster (2015–16)
2017 – Limmy's Show (2010–13)
I was late to Limmy, and this amorphous, auteurial mass has its ups and downs. But even when it wasn't being funny, profound or aff its heid, it was making me nostalgic for mundane day-to-day Scottish life and those voices and words they have. Didn't finish the pish third series, mind. Planet Earth II (2016) can represent all the worthwhile documentaries I've forgotten to mention generally. Stalwarts Inside No. 9, Better Call Saul and Black Mirror made reliable returns, Bob Mortimer added considerable value to Taskmaster and WILTY, and The Handmaid's Tale was an attractive sequence of moving portraits, even if I'd read the book already. New Twin Peaks (2017) could have been brilliant if they hadn't been given all those extra episodes to pad it to hell.
2018 – Detectorists (2014–17)
Mackenzie Crook's "gentle" rural sitcom was only groundbreaking in the literal sense, but it was a nice thing to settle in and watch. Fleabag (2016) was a differently good sitcom. More not-that-old classics were True Detective season one (2014) and The Leftovers (2014–17), and it took me curiously long to get around to Firefly (2002–03). My favourite 2018 things were Taskmaster series seven, Inside No. 9, Better Call Saul (still should've been a sitcom), Stewart Lee: Content Provider and James Acaster: Repertoire. Doctor Who's reboot didn't rekindle my enthusiasm, but 'It Takes You Away' was the most enjoyable episode in a few years and cryptic Short Treks minisode 'Calypso' was the most I've enjoyed 'Trek since 1999.
2019 – Mr. Show (1995–98)
2021 – Babylon 5 (1993–99)
2022 – Dark (2017–20)
Checking off another satisfying space saga, if you can make it through the Nazi stuff, even if dense subtitles and bare-minimum animation meant I might as well have read the books. Bloodthirsty chop-em-up Berserk (1997–98) was the condensed fantasy version. In live action, Unsolved Mysteries' (1987–93) unsimulated retro charm, insensitively-authentic reconstructions and whiplash-inducing variety made its vintage investigations into true crime and bollocks more compelling than any dreary modern equivalents. The Change (2023) was another welcome folk sitcom, Inside No. 9 (2022–23) was still good, obviously, re-re-re-rebooted Doctor Who (2023) was fun again, and Cosmos (1980) got an overdue rewatch.
2024
Best TV Show of 1985–2024:
1989 – The BFG (1987)
1990 – Ghostbusters (1984)
1991 – The Addams Family (1991)
Like Ghostbusters, I might not have been aware that this was a comedy when my Dad took me to see it and I was horrified by Wednesday and Pugsley gorily chopping off what I didn't realise were false limbs. The haunted house ambience stayed with me forever though. I'm confused about where my Batcave and other Bat memorabilia fit into the Christmas chronology, but I don't think I'd seen Tim Burton's Batman (1989) before this Christmas' premiere. Superman and Superman II (1978–80) also made an impression, prompting me to fill an exercise book with stories about various super versions of me. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze (1991) was more big-screen mediocrity I must have liked, since I got the comic. Short Circuit (1986) and Home Alone (1990) were other films I saw sooner or later.
1992 – Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey (1991)
1993 – Jurassic Park (1993)
It's fair to say this was a more memorable cinema experience than Dennis (1993), Tom and Jerry: The Movie (1992) or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III (1993), but I liked most of those at the time. I watched fish-out-of-water time-travel comedies Back to the Future (1985), Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986) and Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971) around the same time on TV, so I've always associated those. Clash of the Titans (1981) was some inspiring mythology I should've had more of in my life, The Jungle Book (1967) was probably peak Disney, The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) was the most fitting Christmas video ever, and I was chuffed to see my first 15 and 18 certificates when Mum let me watch Batman Returns and Alien³ (1992).
1994 – The Mask (1994)
1995 – Back to the Future Part II (1989)
This retrofuturistic classic was my favourite of the films back then, before Part III (1990) expertly wrapped up the best trilogy ever. Age apartheid was lifted on video rentals as kids and their parents started to watch things together, most notably Addams Family Values (1993), Baby's Day Out (1994), Forrest Gump (1994), Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), Stargate (1994) and Total Recall (1990). On grown-up telly, I liked Ghost (1990) for the supernatural drama rather than the romance and Carrie (1976) made a more lasting impression than the other horror films (though A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987) was differently memorable). And Now for Something Completely Different (1971) was all downhill from the opening sketch, but at least meant I got to see those films in order, and Wallace and Gromit won Christmas with A Close Shave (1995).
1996 – Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
1997 – Men in Black (1997)
1998 – Titanic (1997)
1999 – Planet of the Apes (1968)
2000 – 12 Monkeys (1995)
2001 – Wayne's World (1992)
2002 – Nosferatu (1922)
2003 – Mulholland Drive (2001)
2004 – 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
2005–06 – Adaptation. (2002)
2007–08 – The Wicker Man (1973)
2009 – The Machinist (2004)
2010 – Moon (2009)
2011–12 – Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)
2013–14 – Metropolis (1927/1984)
2015 – Interstellar (2014)
2016–17 – Powaqqatsi: Life in Transformation (1988)
2018 – Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
I finally got around to watching a whole lot of classics this year. It was satisfying and moreish, with far too many good ones to list. This was the best new-to-me Kubrick, Strangers on a Train (1951) was probably my favourite Hitchcock (along with Vertigo, Psycho, Rope, The 39 Steps, et al), Skyfall (2012) maybe my favourite Bond and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988) a delightful new-to-me Gilliam. Other old films enjoyed but not obsessively catalogued until now included It's a Wonderful Life (1946), Star Trek forebear Forbidden Planet (1956) and The Haunting (1963), despite me having rudely dismissed it outright at 14 for being "made in black and white decades ago." Blade Runner 2049 (2017) was the best almost-new film.
2019 – The Seventh Seal (1957)
2020 – The Phantom Carriage (1921)
2021 – My Neighbor Totoro (1988)
2022 – House (1972)
2023 – Persona (1966)
2024
Best Film of 1985–2024:
1980s – My Special Christmas: A Personalized Story about You and Santa (1989)
1990–92 – Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles Adventures (1990–91)
The British Turtles comic was a mismatched hybrid of bland and boring home-grown strips and the properly good and surreal US Archie comic that sparked my imagination and unsettled me in a good way around the time I started school. They were joined by a shellload of Turtles books, while comic allegiance over the years passed through Thunderbirds (1991–92 reprints) and the short-lived Bucky O'Hare and Toxic Crusaders to old-school, home-grown Buster (1993). Now that I could use the Fisherprice portable tape player by myself, I could have Batman: Funhouse of Fear (1989) read to me whenever I chose, though Christmas books like Sarah Hayes' Away in a Manger (1987) were listened to on the downstairs hi-fi, in season, among the decorations, as is proper. Garfield annuals (1990–91) were the best annuals.
1993 – Dinosaurs! (1993)
1994 – Dave Morris, Knightmare: The Dragon's Lair (1993)
The feature story wasn't very interesting, rather it was the multiple-choice gamebook at the back that made reading a viable alternative to playing on the Amiga. I kept Martin Handford's Where's Wally: The Fantastic Journey (1989) in my school bag to help me deal with Amiga cravings. The junior novelisation of The Mask (1994) would do until the video came out, and Bruce Coville's My Teacher Is an Alien (1989) was some nice X-Files lite to tide me over to Thursday. If this was the year we went to the Isle of Wight for the first time, the Brading Wax Museum souvenir guide (1989), with its vivid torture scenes, was a long-time favourite. I enjoyed Amiga Format magazine (1994) for the cover disks and the 5% or so that was about games and got several casual issues of Sonic the Comic (1994).
1995 – Sonic the Comic (1995)
1996 – Bruce Coville, I Left My Sneakers in Dimension X (1994)
There was no indication that this was the second book in a series when I was impressed by the cover, nor that the promised science fiction would turn out more like Space Narnia. These things weren't hindrances. When I spotted a familiar logo on a charity shop bookshelf, I tackled my first adult book, Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park (1990), then it was back to unchallenging children's TV with Mark Haddon's Agent Z and the Penguin from Mars (1995), choosing to repeat what I'd already seen rather than trying one of his other ones. My brother chose an interesting book on Strange Coincidences (1990) from a Ripley's Believe It or Not! gift shop, I started a solid Point anthology of Thirteen More Tales of Horror (1994), and it was the last great year for Sonic the Comic (1996), boosted by back issues (1994) bought from the amused guy in the year below me at school who'd outgrown them.
1997 – The Official Star Trek Fact Files (1997)
After Aliens Ate My Homework (1993) and Aliens Stole My Dad (1995) left Bruce Coville's alien saga on a cliffhanger for 21 years, I stopped exploring strange, new worlds and repetitive Trek fixation consumed all. This seemingly endless partwork got less interesting as the years went on, but when I was fresh to the franchise, I devoured every dry page of the pretend encyclopaedia more eagerly than anything useful I've ever read. Which is why for historical accuracy I have to reluctantly nominate it over Grant Naylor's expanded reimagining of Red Dwarf (1989), even though that's up there with the all-time best books. Better Than Life (1991) doesn't hold together so expertly, but it's still the essential sequel.
1998 – Monty Python, The Complete Monty Python's Flying Circus: All the Words (1989)
1999 – Stewart Lee and Richard Herring, Lee & Herring's Fist of Fun (1995)
2000–02 – Terry J. Erdmann with Paula M. Block, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (2000)
Deep Space Nine was my favourite Trek, so I was very pleased when the compulsory episode guide turned out to be so definitive. My brother's Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Monster Book (2000) was a valuable primer for old horror lit and films, and digging up the fabled Red Dwarf Smegazine (1992–94) in a box in a comic shop felt like discovering an ancient holy artefact, but it proved to be more interesting as a time capsule than for its own merits. Recreational reading declined sharply in my GCSE years, when Cradle of Filth's Cruelty and the Beast album booklet (1998) was the most substantial thing I read outside of school, but picked up again in time for A-level, with Stephen King's The Shining (1978) being my first ebook (Word doc on CRT monitor).
2003 – Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: A Trilogy in Four Parts (1979–84)
2004 – Douglas Adams, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (1987)
2005–06 – Phaidon Press, The Art Book (1995)
One of the most straightforward coffee table books out there, I'd seen this around before I found it on someone's bookshelf while dog sitting and gave it a good old viewing. Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting (1993) and a Narnia read/re-read were other extracurricular rarities. John Milton's Paradise Lost (1674) was the best thing I read at university, my appreciation growing each time I returned to it for another essay so I didn't have to read more books, but there were more back-to-back treats from the likes of Robert Louis Stevenson's Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde (1886), Arthur Conan Doyle's The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1892) and H. G. Wells' The Time Machine (1895) when we caught up to the best decade in literature.
2007 – Neil Gaiman and artists, The Sandman (1989–95)
I enjoyed T. S. Eliot, Virginia Woolf and other modernists we studied, but they couldn't compete with the comics I dived into after graduating. Neil's mythology mash-up is just about my favourite written thing, especially early on and peaking early with The Doll's House. From Hell (1989–98) was my favourite from Alan Moore, but less welcoming to re-reading than the likes of Saga of the Swamp Thing (1984–87) and Watchmen (1987). I also enjoyed Neil's Mr. Punch (1994) and Garth Ennis' Hellblazer run (1991–94), even if it blurs together through consistency and method drinking. Iain Banks' The Wasp Factory (1984) was my favourite "normal" book, which tells you something about the types of books I was reading.
2008 – Philip Pullman, His Dark Materials (1995–2000)
2009–10 – Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine, Last Chance to See (1990)
2011 – Alan Partridge with Rob Gibbons, Neil Gibbons, Armando Iannucci and Steve Coogan, I, Partridge: We Need to Talk About Alan (2011)
2012 – Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose (1980)
2013 – Dan Simmons, Hyperion (1989)
This genre-bending mash-up spoiled me for epic sci-fi sagas, not that I bothered with the sequels. Umberto Eco's The Prague Cemetery (2011) was a bleaker pseudohistorical mystery, lightened by overly detailed dining interruptions, and The Sirens of Titan (1959) was my ramshackle favourite of several more Kurt Vonneguts. Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane (2013) may have been the only newly published book I read, but might have been the best of those anyway. The Flamingo Anthology of Fantastic Literature: Black Water (1994) was the last and best of the various weird collections that accompanied me on long bus journeys when travelling, and turned out to be a keeper when I settled down.
2014 – Shaun Tan, The Arrival (2006)
2015 – James Joyce, Ulysses (1922)
2016 – Alan Moore and Jacen Burrows, Providence #1–10 (2015–16)
2017 – Edgar Allan Poe, The Complete Stories (1832–49)
2018 – Wayne Douglas Barlowe, Expedition: Being an Account in Words and Artwork of the 2358 A.D. Voyage to Darwin IV (1990)
2019 – David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas (2004)
2020 – Rhys Hughes, The Million Word Storybook: Female Edition (2015)
The Smell of Telescopes (2000), Stories from a Lost Anthology (2002) and The Just Not So Stories (2013) were my favourite normal-length collections I read in the weird Welshman's projected 1,000-story cycle (I think I've read exactly half, depending on how the novels fit in), but plumping for a generous bumper 'sampler' made the decision easier. Isaac Asimov's The End of Eternity (1955) and Stephen King's Carrie (1974) were my favourite vintage novels, Jeff VanderMeer's Annihilation (2014) my best newie. Less pretend, the audiobook of Walter Lord's A Night to Remember (1955) was an immersive real-time Titanic sinking simulator and Richard Wiseman's Paranormality (2011) made me nostalgic for ghostbusting.
2022 – Angela Slatter, Sourdough and Other Stories (2010)
Enough life has passed that my friend's vainly/insightfully self-published hardback blog was a joy to revisit, having been along for that ride as parallel observer, snarky commenter (see earlier this sentence) and occasional special guest star. It took longer for me to rejoin Tony Hawks on his trip Round Ireland with a Fridge (1998), which might be my longest gap between abandoning and finishing a book unless I ever pick up The Hobbit again. Playing the Moldovans at Tennis (2000) succeeded as an equally pointless sequel. Richard Littler's Discovering Scarfolk (2014) had some cracking gags, but is probably better as a website. In kid lit, Aleksandra Artymowska's Alice in Wonderland: A Puzzle Adventure (2019) was the best stocking filler I never had.
2024
2000 – The Offspring, Ixnay on the Hombre (1997)
2001 – AFI, The Art of Drowning (2000)
Other albums dominated the year as my naive taste developed from more jolly punk times courtesy of mid-90s Green Day and Pitchshifter's Deviant (2000) through angsty 'nu'-metal led by KoЯn (1994–99) and Disturbed's The Sickness (2000), getting a bit more artistic with Marilyn Manson's Antichrist Superstar (1996), Cradle of Filth's Cruelty and the Beast (1998) and Fear Factory's Obsolete (1998) before old-school Metallica ruled the Michaelmas term (1986–91 albums). But infatuation with the aesthetic goth punks over Christmas would have made this my pick for that year, and it's remained a singular festive tradition to this day.
2002 – Metallica, Ride the Lightning (1984)
I started to settle down and consolidate on the music front. After a horror punk interval with more AFI albums and EPs (1997–99) and the Misfits' Famous Monsters (1999), I completed my Metallica collection (1983–2003) and explored more classic, hairy metal, appreciating Manowar (1982–2002) both ironically and sincerely before ending up in more wholesome Iron Maiden country (1980–2000) and gradually growing to love them the most. Nine Inch Nails' The Downward Spiral (1994) provided the soundtrack to the only book I read, since it was the closest thing I had to ambience. Fear Factory's Demanufacture (1995) was the hardest stuff in my drinks cabinet so far.
2003 – Iron Maiden, Live After Death (1985)
I was never completely sure which 'Maiden studio album was my favourite (settling on Seventh Son eventually... I think), but this live release showcasing the best of the first five made that decision easier. I listened to it a lot, so it's not cheating. On cassette, to be authentically old-school, which amused the friends who already despaired at my 'gumby' taste. Beyond Maiden, but sticking with the letter I, In Flames' The Tokyo Showdown (2000) and Iced Earth's Something Wicked This Way Comes (1998) were other favorites. There was also Queensrÿche's Operation: Mindcrime (1988), Symphony X's The Divine Wings of Tragedy (1997), Blind Guardian's Nightfall in Middle-Earth (1998), Ayreon's Flight of the Migrator (2000) and Bruce Dickinson's Accident of Birth (1997) and The Chemical Wedding (1997–98), the best Maiden albums of the '90s.
2004 – Iced Earth, Alive in Athens (1999)
Iced Earth climbed to the elite ranks of Maiden and Metallica when I heard their early work (1990–95), introduced via this impressively comprehensive triple live album, as did Black Sabbath when I started their discography from the top (1970–72). Aside from the Big Four, other frequent spins were Dream Theater's Images and Words (1992) and Metropolis Pt. 2 (1999), Edguy's Mandrake (2001) and Hellfire Club (2004), Avantasia's Metal Operas (2001–02), Judas Priest's Metal Works '73-'93 and the distinctly mellower sounds of Vangelis' Blade Runner (1982/94), The Cure's Disintegration (1989) and Opeth's Damnation (2003). Well, I was an adult now. Technically.
2005 – Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon (1973)
Further progressive metal voyages with Dream Theater and Ayreon and journeys into classic rock kicked off by David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust (1972) culminated in a summer of prog rock as I fulfilled my poncy literature student destiny. This peaked early with early-to-mid-70s Pink Floyd ('Echoes' (1970) a contender for world's best song) and King Crimson's In the Court of the Crimson King (1969), while Jeff Wayne's disco rock opera reimagining of The War of the Worlds (1978) is up there with civilisation's finest achievements. The uni 'rock' (i.e. metal) society was the hub of my social life, that side of things summed up by Judas Priest's Painkiller (1990), and I moved on to mid-70s Sabbath.
2006 – Bathory, In Memory of Quorthon (2006 compilation)
When my chronological prog voyage reached the choppy seas of the 1980s, I rebelled against that polished pomp by going raw and sinister. This triple-CD anthology gave me plenty to sink my fangs into and led me down a Viking metal niche in the company of Amon Amarth (1996–2002), Månegarm (2003–05) and Týr (2003). Arsonist-murderer Burzum's Filosofem (1996) fascinated me, in and out of morally dubious context, while The Misfits' Static Age (1978/96) was a lighter shade of dark, a nostalgic punk reprisal with acceptable vintage. Candlemass (1986–89) filled my Sabbath void after I finished them off, and Bowie's discography would remain stalled at Scary Monsters (1980) for a few years.
2007 – R.E.M., Murmur (1983)
My break-up/graduation year was soundtracked by the echoing elegies of Warning's Watching from a Distance (2006), Burzum dungeon dirges (1992–94), the melodic aggro of Dismember's Massive Killing Capacity (1995) and the reflective solitude of Ulver's Shadows of the Sun (2007). After that, I started a new, more optimistic life in Edinburgh, which was mainly scored by jangly '80s R.E.M. and Automatic for the People (1992), Against Me's bouncy New Wave (2007), Agalloch soundscapes (1999–2006), the pleasant parts of Aphex Twin (1992–96) and the gloomy parts of The Cure (1980–82), which sounded positively upbeat after what I'd been putting myself through previously.
2008 – Depeche Mode, Violator (1990)
Churning out metal reviews for cash largely killed off my enthusiasm for that scene, especially since outliers like Agalloch's folky The White (2008), Aphrodite's Child's proggy 666 (1972) and Black Widow's witchy Sacrifice (1970) stood out more than the best of the samey metal did. So I caught up on a few decades' worth of light pop rock instead, most frequently Depeche Mode, The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead (1986), The Smashing Pumpkins' Siamese Dream (1993), Coldplay's Viva La Vida (2008), more '90s R.E.M. and the less gloomy parts of The Cure (1983–87). I had jobs and friends, so evidently didn't feel the need to compulsively chronicle things any more. For a bit.
2009 – The Who, Who's Next (1971)
I'd checked out Tommy (1969) and Quadrophenia (1973) earlier when going through the classic concept albums, but The Who didn't really click until I stripped back to them just playing songs. My neofolk appreciation moved on from black metal bands mellowing out to bands who specialised in that type of dark pastoral music, and Death in June's But, What Ends When the Symbols Shatter? (1992) seemed to be the peak of that. Working through a torrent of Pitchfork Media's arbitrary best 500 songs led me to check out more from Joy Division, Björk and many more. Going back to the '60s, The Velvet Underground and Nico (1967) and The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds (1966) did more for me than The Beatles ever did.
2010 – Neutral Milk Hotel, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (1998)
This was a favourite thing to listen to around the time I took an aeroplane over the sea and started travelling, so this is a sentimental pick too. Soon after, I found out that old stalwarts Iron Maiden had a new album out (The Final Frontier), which will always remind me of throwing up in a Jerusalem hostel toilet. Industrial Legacy Vol. 5 – Neofolk and Neoclassical (2008 compilation) and The Best of Simon and Garfunkel (1999 compilation) soundtracked nature walks. The Edinburgh part of the year was accompanied by Against Me's White Crosses (2010), Nick Cave's The Boatman's Call (1997) and Murder Ballads (1996) and Roger Waters' Amused to Death (1992).
2011 – Dream Theater, A Dramatic Turn of Events (2011)
A bit of a metal throwback year generally, with new albums from Dream Theater and Iced Earth's Dystopia (2011) being their best releases since I started paying attention and belatedly discovering Dio's best band via The Best of Rainbow (1981 compilation), 'Stargazer' (1976) instantly becoming a top two/three song. Then I had to let the side down by enjoying a chillaxed Enigma best-of (2009) during a stormy plane ride. Carl Orff's 'Gassenhauer' (1920s), Virgin Steele's 'Veni, Vidi, Vici' (1998), Big Blood's 'Graceless Lady' (2008) and Machine Head's 'I Am Hell (Sonata In C#)' (2011) were other favourite songs of the year with memorable associations.
2012 – The Devin Townsend Project, Ghost (2011)
2013 – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, No More Shall We Part (2001)
I got around to comprehensively completing Nick Cave this year (1983–2013), and this new-to-me one with its engrossing melancholy storylines was the one I ended up playing the most. Led Zeppelin was the new old band of 2013, principally Houses of the Holy (1973), and new new band Ghost's Infestissumam (2013) was wickedly enchanting. The Antlers' Burst Apart (2011) and Ben Folds' Rockin' the Suburbs (2001) were more wholesomely resonant, new David Bowie (2013) was dependably good and Stratovarius' Fourth Dimension (1995) was quite the student throwback by this point.
2014 – Radiohead, The Bends (1995)
2015 – Dead Can Dance, Anastasis (2012)
The catchy noodling of Steven Wilson's Hand. Cannot. Erase (2015) was my retrospective pick of the year when I realised how much I liked it on a delayed second listen in 2016, but at the time I was too caught up in Dead Can Dance's mystical vistas. Iron Maiden's new album was almost entirely underwhelming, but worth it for 'Empire of the Clouds' (2015). Hans Zimmer's Interstellar (2014) joined my favourite soundtracks, I exhumed the corpse of horror punk with Samhain's November-Coming-Fire (1986) and had a brief affair with a Pet Shop Boys best-of (2010) that heralded retro developments to come.
2016 – Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Penguin Cafe Orchestra (1981)
The second release by ambient chamber jazz ensemble Penguin Cafe Orchestra was my most listened-to album that year, providing versatile background music for all tasks. I listened to Ralph Vaughan Williams' 'The Lark Ascending' (1921) even more (Nicola Benedetti version), but we're doing albums, not singles. If those sound a bit stuffy and grown-up, my other most-listened-to, new-to-me albums were Rush's guitar-driven Grace Under Pressure (1984) and Clan of Xymox's electro-drum-groovin' self-titled LP (1985), so I'm still down with the kids. The kids of 30 years ago. Anathema's Distant Satellites (2014) was their first album of the millennium that I didn't find boring.
2017 – Tubeway Army, Replicas (1979)
I can't remember what prompted me to finally give electric goth Gary Numan a try. I probably read something about this album's Philip K. Dick-inspired concept, that'd do it. It's sort of like Fear Factory if you took away all the bloody noise. Speaking of bloody noise, I got around to listening to Cradle of Filth's Hammer of the Witches (2015) and it was the best work the extreme literary goths had done since the '90s. Checking out more of punk goths The Damned, Strawberries (1982) and Phantasmagoria (1985) were keepers. Bit of a goth year generally. Uriah Heep's Demons and Wizards (1972) was more good fantasy rock about nonsense.
2018 – The Cranberries, Gold (2008 compilation)
Belatedly discovering this famous band I'm too obscure to have heard of wasn't a direct result of the news, but it only took a couple of songs for me to be interested enough to google them and learn why they were probably being recommended by YouTube during my moody '90s rock marathon. The Smashing Pumpkins' Adore (1996) and Angelo Badalamenti's soundtracks for Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992) and The Straight Story (1999) were more '90s things I belatedly enjoyed; ELO's Time (1981) was disappointingly older and Chromatics' Kill for Love (2012) annoyingly more modern, just to break the theme.
2019 – ２８１４, 新しい日の誕生 (Birth of a New Day) (2015)
This ethereal neon ambience turned out to be a better modern Vangelis than Vangelis to score my sci-fi reading and life at the laptop generally. Other favoured atmospheric book/work soundtracks and destressers in this instrumental year included 2814 collaborator HKE's HK (2015), Vangelis' rustic Earth (1970), Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony (1808), Dorothy Ashby's solo jazz harp on Django/Misty (1984), psychedelic sofa surfing with The Ventures (1960s) and Csarnogurszky István's various windswept projects and collaborations (2015–19). While it wasn't new to me, I was also mildly obsessed with John Williams' Superman theme (1978) for a while there.
2020 – Lazerhawk, Redline (2010)
I couldn't get enough of DIY synth-drowned faux-80s background muzak this year. Asthenic's YouTube mixes (2017–20) cultivated my preferred dreamy blend, other favourite derivative originals included Kiile's Kiile (2016), Miami Nights 1984's Turbulence (2012), Perturbator's I Am the Night (2012), Windows96's uncanny One Hundred Mornings (2018) and Rygar's space disco throwback comeback Modulation (2012). Pet Shop Boys' Introspective (1988) was the best of the real deal, Television's Marquee Moon (1977) the best cultured recommendation, Nils Frahm's All Melody (2018) the best weird books backing and Gary Numan's Sacrifice (Extended Mixes) (1995) my favourite gloom tunes.
2022 – William Basinski, The Disintegration Loops (2002–03)
I purged my system of esoteric electronica by belatedly appreciating the lo-fi aggro of hardcore punk at 37. T.S.O.L.'s Dance With Me (1981), Charged G.B.H.'s City Baby Attacked By Rats (1982) and The Exploited's Horror Epics (1985) were old-school highlights, and Liquids' Life Is Pain Idiot (2021) an inexplicably appealing modern din, but the legitimate insanity of Rudimentary Peni's debut and Cacophony (1988) was the most compelling, especially when following along with the words and pictures for maximum multimedia madness. In a darker corner of the cosmos, Midnight Odyssey's Funerals from the Astral Sphere (2011) provided curiously versatile book backing.
1998 – Chris Barrie reads Red Dwarf & Better Than Life (1992–94)
2003–04 – Lee and Herring (1994–95)
The forerunner of TMWNJ with its blend of live double-act routines in the studio and pre-recorded character sketches, the even smaller radio audience and discordant segues from Stew's borderline-unlistenable music collection set a relaxed and intimate atmosphere that made for really pleasant listening. The sole Lee and Herring bootleg (1994) that's always been floating around mainly made me sad that there aren't loads more, but a Christ on a Bike audience recording (2001) made do until I finally saw Rich's first post-double-act solo show on its miraculous resurrection in 2010. Selected Blue Jam (1997–99) was good when it remembered to be funny.
2007 – Why Bother? (1994)
I wasn't the biggest fan of the Derek and Clive albums (1976–78), having eagerly checked them out when all the comedians I admired lauded them as the best thing ever, but they had their moments. I was more tickled by this later Peter Cook gem, swapping dead weight Dud for Chris Morris as a worthy adversary. I also finally gave a proper listen to The Day Today precursor On the Hour (1991–92), impressive early Lee and Herring thing Lionel Nimrod's Inexplicable World (1991–92) and Bill Hicks' albums (1990–97). Later on, I was bewitched by Alan Moore's poetic seances with The Moon and Serpent Grand Egyptian Theatre of Marvels, particularly The Highbury Working (2000).
2008 – The Ricky Gervais Show (2001–08)
2009–11 – As It Occurs to Me (2009–11)
2012–13 – The Bugle (2012–13)
2014 – Good Omens (2014)
2022 – Welcome to Night Vale (2012–14)
2023 – From the Oasthouse: The Alan Partridge Podcast (2020–23)
1980s–90 – The Real Ghostbusters toys (1987–88)
1991–92 – Scrabble (1938)
1993 – DeluxePaint IV AGA (1992)
1994 – Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (1992)
1995 – Sonic 3 & Knuckles (1994)
1996 – Super Mario World (1990)
Mario had never appealed as much as Sonic, but this immersive entry obsessed me for a couple of weeks or so over the summer of '96 when we got a second-hand SNES. Starwing (1993) was great too. I can't remember what was going on in Amiga land, Worms (1995) probably. More traditionally, I requested Monopoly (1935) and expensive video board game Atmosfear: The Harbingers (1995) for Christmas, which would be good for socialising, until I couldn't be bothered any more.
1997 – The Secret of Monkey Island (1990)
1998 – Simon the Sorcerer (1993)
1999 – Worms Armageddon (1999)
2000–01 – Final Fantasy VII (1997)
2002–03 – Diablo II (2000)
2004–07 – Beneath a Steel Sky (1994)
2008–13 – Loom (1990)
2014 – Joe Dever's Lone Wolf gamebooks (1984–85)
2015 – Dizzy fan games (1992–2015)
The resourceful 8-bit egg is still going strong thanks to the efforts of passionate autistic fans at Yolkfolk.com, from the painstakingly traditional to the pathetically juvenile. Steve Rennie's lateral thinking challenges and Sonic Mania-style reimaginings of the classics were impressive, but Tom Ward's Knightmare Dizzy was the most fun. Finally bothering to learn how to use an Amiga emulator, I discovered some more new-old classics, though I mainly bashed blocks on MegaBall and Poing 5 (1997).
2016–18 – Cthulhu Realms (2015)
Steam deckbuilding games hit the sweet spot of repetitive, satisfying, low-effort hand-eye activities that kept me slightly more active during audiobook sessions than I would be turning pages. This one was the best for its levity and complexity, though predecessors Star Realms (2014) and Ascension: Deckbuilding Game (2010) had more superficial longevity through stat-swapping expansions. After inheriting my first smartphone, Goat Simulator (2014) was a highly entertaining distraction for one weekend before I unlocked everything and the novelty wore off.
2019 – Dave Morris' Heart of Ice (1994)
2021–23 – Carcassonne (2000)
Importantly, many best things of the year Weren't Actually Released in That Year, because there are loads of other years to catch up on and I'm not some zeitgeisty freak. No, I am clearly normal.
Updated in Real Time 'til I die, lose control of my faculties or decide there are better things to do, whichever's most likely.
~ Best TV of 1985–2024 ~
To look at my bedroom decor in Chatham Way, you'd figure I was more into Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends (1984–88). Thomas was good too, but I was more taken with the low-key exploits of the village postman and his clingy cat, even if I disagreed with the lyrics of the theme song and insisted it should be "letters through your gate post" every time. Bertha (1985–86) was the sci-fi version. Stoppit and Tidyup (1988) was fun, but The Big, Bad I Said No was scary. Sesame Street taught me the Americanized alphabet that my mum had to condition me out of and I caught the tail end of Play School before the landmark transition to Playbus.
Exciting American action figure cartoons (He-Man and the Masters of the Universe (1983–85), ThunderCats (1985–88)) had overtaken preschool programming by the time I hit preschool, but I had time for Greenclaws (1989). Home-grown animated sitcom Count Duckula (1989) was another favourite, which boded well, and I'd sit through every episode of Fun House (1989) even though it was always exactly the same. The BBC's The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1989) was the most memorable live action show, though Doctor Who's 'Ghost Light' (1989) gave me nightmares, so I'm glad I didn't miss out on that tradition completely.
The lean, green, ninja fighting teens were the coolest thing a spoiled, nerdy boy from rural Cheshire could comprehend, and my Turtles Christmas would prove an even bigger blowout than my Ghostbusters one. SuperTed (1983–86) probably would've been my favourite otherwise. The likes of Inspector Gadget (1983–86), The Dreamstone (1990), Dennis (1986–88), Fantastic Max (1988–90), DuckTales (1987–89), Art Attack (1990) and the enduring ChuckleVision (1990) were further encouragement to be an indoors kid.
These retro repeats won over the next generation (back to back across channels with The Crystal Maze (1991)). Duckula predecessor Danger Mouse made a '90s comeback, but I was even more taken with underdog spin-off Victor & Hugo: Bunglers in Crime (1991). The promising Bucky O'Hare (1991) would never return after its debut run; the tense Watt on Earth (1991) would. Knightmare (1991) became even tenser with the introduction of Lord Fear, to the point that my younger brother had to tell me when it was okay to come back into the room. Jim Henson's The StoryTeller (1987–89) creeped me out too.
1992 – Bits of The Simpsons (1989–90)
Too exciting for terrestrial TV, we could only get glimpses by hanging out with rich kids who had Sky or buying/renting the stingy two-episode tapes, overplayed to get your money's worth. On regular TV, Turtles wannabe Toxic Crusaders (1992) was another one-season wonder, The Fiddley Foodle Bird (1992) had quite a long name you could unimpressively learn if you were that kind of child, The Tomorrow People (1992) was more intriguing sci-fi than Watt on Earth (1992), Uncle Jack and the Dark Side of the Moon (1992) was the best of those, and junior Red Dwarf SpaceVets (1992) would make do until the real thing came along. Stingray (1964) was an acceptable substitute when the BBC ran out of Thunderbirds (1965–66), but I didn't care for Captain Scarlet. Mr. Bean was big over Christmas, we had the blue video (1991).1993 – The Animals of Farthing Wood series one (1993)
My generation's Watership Down, this uncompromising survival serial was probably the first time I was really gripped by a programme. Though, for whatever reason, I decided that vintage Tom and Jerry (1940–67) was going to be the thing I was "into" this year, for want of an organic obsession before Steven Spielberg's dinosaurs stampeded in over the summer. I got a video and some comics. Rugrats (1991–92) and Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) were other hot new cartoons. The Beano Video (1993) was a big deal. Mr. Blobby's video pathetically ripped off Mr. Bean, but we still laughed, idiots.1994 – Red Dwarf VI (1993)
Gears shifted abruptly when my mum started night classes and my dad naughtily let me stay up past the watershed to watch whatever he was watching, regardless of suitability for an eight-to-nine year old. This is about the right age to develop a lifelong love of Red Dwarf, though maybe a bit soon for Cracker. It also meant I got to watch The X-Files (1993) right from the start (1994 on BBC2). Back on kids' TV, The Ren & Stimpy Show (1991–93) felt just as naughty as those grown-up shows, Incredible Games (1994) was a worthier successor to Knighmare than the promptly-cancelled Virtually Impossible, and Animaniacs (1993) was about as '90s as it gets.
1995 – Bottom series two and three (1992–95)
I now had my very own telly in my bedroom, so was free to watch mature programming (debatable, in Bottom's case) any night of the week, provided I did it sneakily. The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer (series two, 1995), Shooting Stars (series one, 1995) and an episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus ('Deja Vu,' 1970) aren't the strongest exhibits for maturity either. Blackadder Goes Forth (1989) shockingly killed off Mr. Bean, Goodnight Sweetheart (series two and three, 1995) probably seems more clever when you're a kid. Beyond comedy, Agent Scully's abduction arc (season two, 1994) was the height of nostalgic X-Files, Chiller's 'The Man Who Didn't Believe in Ghosts' (1995) scared the shit out of me, and I bought some Cosgrove Hall videos on holiday to relive my lost youth.1996 – Alfred J. Kwak (1989–90)
I'd seen a couple of episodes in the past, but a very-early-morning summertime repeat run was a chance to take in the full bildungsroman (bill, like a duck's bill). The Spider-Man cartoon was also surprisingly satisfying in its sprawling season-long serial (season two, 1994–95) and Agent Z & the Penguin from Mars (1996) was my favourite CBBC drama in a few years. On grown-up TV, Mission: Impossible (1966–73) was ingenious when it wasn't ridiculous and The X-Files started to get complicated (seasons two and three, 1995–96). The Americanized Doctor Who pilot "movie" (1996) was watchable, but I wasn't disappointed when no series materialised. The Only Fools and Horses "finale" trilogy (1996) was a satisfying ending, so I was disappointed when further specials materialised.1997 – Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987–94)
Radicalised by First Contact, the BBC's qui-weekly transmissions of all four 'Trek series (1964–96) became required viewing, supplemented by video purchases and rentals since it took most of the year for repeats to reach good TNG. Sliders (1995–96) and assorted Quantum Leap (1989–93) were good Trek bookends. The long-awaited Red Dwarf VII (1997) was a disappointment, but Jonathan Creek (series one, 1997) was a new keeper, The X-Files (seasons three and four, 1996–97) was still good, and I was non-ironically fascinated by the Teletubbies (1997). I caught up on scattered old-school 'Dwarf and Blackadder (1985–91) courtesy of my new school's library, and tardy BBC Simpsons eventually crawled out of the old VHS era (seasons one to three, 1990–91).1998 – Star Trek: Deep Space Nine seasons five and six (1996–98)
Deep Space Nine became my favourite 'Trek the deeper I got into it, peaking with its serialised Occupation/war arc around the same time Voyager did with its first Borg arc (season four, 1997–98) in VHS hops ahead of the lagging BBC. What do you know, The X-Files (seasons four and a bit of five, 1997–98) and Jonathan Creek (series two and special, 1998) were probably at their best here too, while BBC Simpsons got as far as season five (1992–94). I boarded the South Park bandwagon (1997–98) for a bit, but connected more with the home-grown claymation strangeness of Rex the Runt (1998). The Human Body (1998) was a classic documentary, not just for the nudity. Red Dwarf Remastered (1998) may have been a butchering of a classic sitcom, but at least meant I got to see those early episodes at last.
1999 – This Morning with Richard Not Judy series two (1999)
My life after university would have branched completely differently if I hadn't happened to catch this subversive Sunday lunchtime show at the right impressionable age, made the annual pilgrimage to see them in Edinburgh every year as a student and later decided I might as well live there. It was funny too, and no small achievement to win the year that also saw the debuts of The League of Gentlemen and Bang, Bang, It's Reeves and Mortimer and the ends of Deep Space Nine (in a Christmas video binge) and golden-age X-Files (season five on the BBC, 1998). I also liked Operation Good Guys series two (1999) and caught up on Big Train (1998), Ali G (1998–99), Kevin Turvey (1981) and more classic Red Dwarf (1988–92), which was better than new Red Dwarf.2000 – The League of Gentlemen series two (2000)
2001 – Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997–2001)
Once I got past the military trappings, this elaborate film spin-off proved to be a fun and worthy Star Trek replacement, until it lasted for too long, got less fun and I got similarly disillusioned. Series two of The Office and I'm Alan Partridge and series one of Look Around You were probably the best new comedy. The League of Gentlemen's third series was deliberately difficult, but I liked the odd-numbered entries. The BBC repeated The Day Today (1994), which it's fair to say I got more out of than when I was eight.
2003 – Farscape (1999–2003)
Moving to university, not having telly, having a social life instead and YouTube not being around yet meant I barely saw any TV outside of boxsets. And those were usually Farscape again as I worked through it with various people, or collecting '90s sitcoms and sketch shows I'd already seen. This new-to-me one somehow got mixed up in there. I couldn't totally relate to their lifestyles, but by setting quite low standards for how to be an adult as I entered my 20s, I found it comforting. I also got the Vic Reeves Big Night Out (1990–91) DVD, which had ramshackle DIY charm, but wasn't on the same level as their later BBC sketch shows.
2006 – Twin Peaks (1990–91)
2007 – Peep Show (2003–07)
I got off on the wrong foot with David Mitchell in Bruiser (2000), because he looked like someone annoying from school. But school was years ago now, and I was ready to appreciate one of the all-time great sitcoms at its peak. I also caught up on six years of Curb Your Enthusiasm (1999–2007) and three years of New Doctor Who (2005–07) in the autumn. When the quality sharply increased in the latter half of series three, I had to accept, however grudgingly, that I was in for life now. Never mind. Lost's third year (2007) similarly ramped up towards the end with a classic cliffhanger. Police Squad! (1982; in color), The Armando Iannucci Shows (2001), Noble and Silver: Get Off Me! (2001), Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (2004) and Extras (2005–07) were briefer binges.2008 – Lost season four (2008)
This fuzzy, dawdling series suddenly came into focus when the writers were allowed to set an end date. The strike-afflicted fourth year was the shortest they had, which made it even sharper and my favourite run by far. Doctor Who's fourth series (2008) was a guiltier pleasure until Steven Moffat's ace library two-parter reminded me why I was sticking with it, and his Jekyll (2007) was fun too. Peep Show's fifth series (2008) might have begun the decline, but not to the extent that it wasn't still the best comedy going. I made my zombie-loving friends watch Dead Set (2008), so I must have been watching Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe (2006–08). The Comic Strip's 'Bad News Tour' (1983) and 'Mr Jolly Lives Next Door' (1988) were classic vintage telly.2009 – Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle (2009)
I was happy for Stewart Lee, getting the almost totally uncompromising stand-up series he deserved, but happier for myself getting to watch it for however long it was allowed to last (longer than expected). Lost got too obsessed with its own mythology in its fifth year (2009), but was still the most addictive thing on TV. Newswipe with Charlie Brooker (2009) made me start paying attention to the real world, Carl Sagan took me on a personal voyage through the Cosmos (1980), The Lost Room (2006) was a fun little miniseries and I watched all of Deadwood (2004–06), a curious entry but more worthwhile than the tons of mediocre sci-fi I sat through. Jonathan Creek beat Red Dwarf in the '90s TV revival specials (2009), Psychoville (2009) was fun, but a bit of a difficult second album, Peep Show (2009) was probably good.2010 – Battlestar Galactica (2003–09)
I didn't consider watching this remake of that crap-looking Star Wars rip-off from the '70s until it kept getting relentlessly recommended, then I burned through it obsessively in a few weeks. To cram in other favourites buried in this disproportionately strong year, Doctor Who was rebooted again (2010) and the best it had ever been or likely will be, Sherlock (2010) was a new treat that's always worth keeping an eye out for, Arrested Development (2003–06) and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (2005–10) buried the old joke about lame American sitcoms for good, Lost (2010) ended just fine, shut up, Mid Morning Matters (2010) was a triumphant return for Alan, and An Idiot Abroad (2010) was therapeutic when I experienced some of the same frustrations in the same places.2011 – Doctor Who series six (2011)
This year or last (but I think his 2012 porn update was out already), I watched some sensible TV for a change. I still haven't watched all of his stuff, it can get a bit much. More trivially, Sherlock returned with a second mixed bag to help us manage Doctor Who's decline, though I still liked some of those episodes. Red Dwarf X was the sitcom's best run since 1993, which isn't the highest bar, but I felt euphoric when nervously watching the first episode in a hotel room in Hanoi and realising it was actually good. Breaking Bad was getting less funny but more gripping and Derren Brown did some interesting Experiments (2011) before a misjudged zombie nadir (2012). And not not technically telly, but Stewart Lee: Carpet Remnant World (2012) was the first of his shows in recent history that I hadn't got to see live before watching on a screen.
The almost unbearable march to the end was the big TV event of 2013, even more than Doctor Who's 50th anniversary, which turned out better than even the optimists probably expected with several impressive specials after a weak run earlier in the year. Black Mirror's second run (2013) was mostly great too, and Brooker did some other good things. After struggling through the mediocre latter days of The X-Files (1993–2002) that I'd wisely bailed on the first time around, its sister series Millennium (1996–99) turned out to have a similar tragic trajectory on a more compact scale. The Prisoner (1967), the Quatermass serials (1953–79) and The Stone Tape (1972) were my best vintage telly. Tales from the Crypt (1989–96) was all over the place, but usually good for a laugh. Kevin Eldon's series It's Kevin (2013) was nothing special, but noteworthy for stealing my photo.
2014 – Black Mirror, 'White Christmas' (2014)
2015 – Doctor Who, 'Heaven Sent' (2015)
The increasingly less colourful kids' sci-fi saga stopped feeling so vital this year, before annoyingly delivering its best episode yet, so I had to keep going. For completion's sake, I also continued my time travels through "Classic" Doctor Who, filling in the majority of the old series that I hadn't watched already (1963–84). It debatably wasn't worth the time investment, but Tom Baker was mostly fun. Better Call Saul (2015) was a rare prequel worth watching, the second run of Inside No. 9 (2015) improved on the first (especially 'The 12 Days of Christine' and 'Cold Comfort') and there were a few gems in Ripping Yarns (1976–79). Peep Show ended alright (2015).
2016 – Taskmaster (2015–16)
At the end of a stressful weekend, I saw this recommended and blasted through the first two series in 24 hours, just in time for the third. Watching Tim Key violently emptying a bath and Joe Wilkinson going from elation to crushing disappointment when his potato-in-one got disqualified were just what the doctor ordered. It was around this time that Would I Lie to You? (2007–16) replaced QI as the secondary panel show of choice. You don't need too many of those in your life. Angel (1999–2005) was the best not-new series I finally got around to, new Black Mirror, Better Call Saul, Stewart Lee's Comedy Vehicle, Alan Partridge's Scissored Isle, that one Inside No. 9 and that one good X-Files were the best actually-new things. Westworld scratched my Lost itch and Stranger Things was fun, but calm down.
2017 – Limmy's Show (2010–13)
I was late to Limmy, and this amorphous, auteurial mass has its ups and downs. But even when it wasn't being funny, profound or aff its heid, it was making me nostalgic for mundane day-to-day Scottish life and those voices and words they have. Didn't finish the pish third series, mind. Planet Earth II (2016) can represent all the worthwhile documentaries I've forgotten to mention generally. Stalwarts Inside No. 9, Better Call Saul and Black Mirror made reliable returns, Bob Mortimer added considerable value to Taskmaster and WILTY, and The Handmaid's Tale was an attractive sequence of moving portraits, even if I'd read the book already. New Twin Peaks (2017) could have been brilliant if they hadn't been given all those extra episodes to pad it to hell.2018 – Detectorists (2014–17)
Mackenzie Crook's "gentle" rural sitcom was only groundbreaking in the literal sense, but it was a nice thing to settle in and watch. Fleabag (2016) was a differently good sitcom. More not-that-old classics were True Detective season one (2014) and The Leftovers (2014–17), and it took me curiously long to get around to Firefly (2002–03). My favourite 2018 things were Taskmaster series seven, Inside No. 9, Better Call Saul (still should've been a sitcom), Stewart Lee: Content Provider and James Acaster: Repertoire. Doctor Who's reboot didn't rekindle my enthusiasm, but 'It Takes You Away' was the most enjoyable episode in a few years and cryptic Short Treks minisode 'Calypso' was the most I've enjoyed 'Trek since 1999.
Two great comedy actors turned out to be great comedy writers too, updating Python's obsessive sketch segues, fourth-wall destructions and non-sequitur denouements with HBO cussing. Sitting through the more mainstream entirety of Seinfeld (1989–98) was a pleasant chore, while The Comic Strip Presents... (1982–2016) was a bumpier ride in good company. Vintage sci-fi saga Blake's 7 (1978–81) was all new to me, occasionally impressive when it wasn't being unwatchable, and I got considerably more out of dense mockumentary Smashie and Nicey: The End of an Era (1994) than I did when I was eight. True Detective season three was my favourite 2019 thing, other returning shows I got around to were just okay.
2020 – Miami Vice seasons one and two (1984–86)
A winning formula of 25% groovy soundtrack, 25% goofy retro charm and 50% actually good drama (more an ovelapping Venn diagram in pastels) made this the most fun I had with telly this year, until the novelty wore off. I got further with Parks and Recreation, which was better than expected for a spin-off of a remake, until the American sitcom churn got wearying (2009–13). More easily digested were essential protopython At Last the 1948 Show (1967), the best run of Curb Your Enthusiasm in memory (2020), dependable, delayed returns for Inside No. 9 and Better Call Saul (2020), triumphant TV movie Red Dwarf: The Promised Land (2020) and DIY horror series Local 58 (2015–19), if you can spare the 20 minutes. In the real world, epic documentary the Up series (1964–2019) was profound in its mundanity.
Too wilfully unapproachable for me to get into back in the day, I got around to the economical sci-fi epic in the end, and Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995–96) can represent all the arcane, angsty anime I missed out on at the appropriate age. New levels of entertainment awaited in completing childhood favourite Knightmare (1987–94) and Happy Families (1985) was an obscure comedy gem. Meanwhile, in the 21st century, Ghosts (2019–21) and Stath Lets Flats (2018–21) were enjoyable newish sitcoms, Taskmaster's homegrown (2021) and New Zealand runs (2020–21) felt like the best in several years, and new Inside No. 9 (2021) was predictably, forgettably dependable.
Time-travel meisterwerk or convoluted colonoscopy? Either way, it was satisfyingly tight. More currently, Severance (2022) got off to a promising start, Better Call Saul (2022) bowed out in inevitable style, and Inside No. 9 and Taskmaster (2022) chugged dependably on. Old-school Pokémon (1997–99) was the most entertaining kids' show in the rotation, and self-styled best YouTuber in the universes Dad was a fun distraction for a while (2019–21).
2023 – Legend of the Galactic Heroes (1988–97)
- Prehistoric Planet (2022–23) ****
- Cyber City Oedo 808 (1990) ****
- Taskmaster New Zealand seasons four and five (2023–24) ****
- Taskmaster series fifteen to eighteen (2023–24) ****
- Black Mirror season six (2023) ****
- Inside No. 9 series nine (2024) ****
- Back in Time for Birmingham (2022) ****
- The Expanse (2015–22) *****
- Taskmaster Australia seasons one and two (2023–24) ****
Red Dwarf (1988–2020)
Not the best sci-fi and not the best comedy, but good enough at both to be greater than the sum. It's not only nostalgia, but that helps.
Lee and Herring's This Morning with Richard Not Judy series two (1999) occupies a hallowed bubble immune from external judgements.
~ Best Films of 1985–2024 ~
A Christmas broadcast made this the only film I can say with reasonable certainty I watched in that decade, though admittedly I mainly remember watching it on tape in the next couple of years. I'd catch up on all the '80s goodness.
Considering I'm already corrupting my three-month-old daughter with bits of classic films in an attempt to instil some magic, no doubt I absorbed plenty of movies at a formative age that helped make me the man I am today.
Considering I'm already corrupting my three-month-old daughter with bits of classic films in an attempt to instil some magic, no doubt I absorbed plenty of movies at a formative age that helped make me the man I am today.
Whether it was at the cinema or on video, I'd seen Ghostbusters II (1989) by the time I was reading the Ladybird photo novelisation. I saw the blatantly superior first one on TV at the end of the year and was delighted that Stay-Puft from out of my toys made an appearance. Dad took me to see Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990), but even riding the crest of obsession, it didn't do all that much for me. Festive TV treats included E.T. (1982), Flight of the Navigator (1986) and Labyrinth (1986; best).
1991 – The Addams Family (1991)
Like Ghostbusters, I might not have been aware that this was a comedy when my Dad took me to see it and I was horrified by Wednesday and Pugsley gorily chopping off what I didn't realise were false limbs. The haunted house ambience stayed with me forever though. I'm confused about where my Batcave and other Bat memorabilia fit into the Christmas chronology, but I don't think I'd seen Tim Burton's Batman (1989) before this Christmas' premiere. Superman and Superman II (1978–80) also made an impression, prompting me to fill an exercise book with stories about various super versions of me. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze (1991) was more big-screen mediocrity I must have liked, since I got the comic. Short Circuit (1986) and Home Alone (1990) were other films I saw sooner or later.
I wonder what Oliver's mum made of this film when she took a few of us along to see it for his birthday, and whether any of them were as amazed by its high-concept strangeness as I was. I'd annoy my brother by renting it out repetitively in the future rather than trying something new. It would've made more financial sense to just buy it. Beetlejuice (1988) was another mind-warping favourite that I wouldn't properly grasp until I watched it again decades later. Basil the Great Mouse Detective (1986) and The Land Before Time (1988) were more comprehensible. Innerspace (1987) was pretty funny, The War of the Worlds (1953) pretty scary.
1993 – Jurassic Park (1993)
1994 – The Mask (1994)
Kids' TV previews made this live-action cartoon look irresistible, and I wasn't let down when I went to see it on holiday. I read the junior novelisation a couple of times to tide me over until the video release, then watched that repeatedly until I suddenly never did again. Aladdin (1992) was a rare Disney video, though I preferred the Amiga game. In a first, we requested All Dogs Go to Heaven (1989) after experiencing its story and sound samples badly mangled on a crap game and wanting to see the real deal. Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) was on telly, so all children were required by law to watch it, as was twee goth fable Edward Scissorhands (1990). Someone's video of Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey (1993) was illegally exhibited at school when a teacher couldn't be arsed.
1995 – Back to the Future Part II (1989)
This retrofuturistic classic was my favourite of the films back then, before Part III (1990) expertly wrapped up the best trilogy ever. Age apartheid was lifted on video rentals as kids and their parents started to watch things together, most notably Addams Family Values (1993), Baby's Day Out (1994), Forrest Gump (1994), Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), Stargate (1994) and Total Recall (1990). On grown-up telly, I liked Ghost (1990) for the supernatural drama rather than the romance and Carrie (1976) made a more lasting impression than the other horror films (though A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987) was differently memorable). And Now for Something Completely Different (1971) was all downhill from the opening sketch, but at least meant I got to see those films in order, and Wallace and Gromit won Christmas with A Close Shave (1995).1996 – Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
Still my favourite film, even if I only watch it about once a decade now, rather than at least once a day as I did for a couple of weeks after spotting it in someone's house. Life of Brian (1979) wasn't as immediately gratifying, I'd grow into it. Airplane! (1980) was another enduring comedy classic, the Naked Gun sequels (1991–94) and Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls (1994) were more of their time. I went to my last kiddy cinema outings with Toy Story (1995) and Muppet Treasure Island (1996) before going solo to Star Trek: First Contact (1996) and being radicalised on the spot. Independence Day (1996) was a visually impressive but less inspiring alien invasion, Jumanji (1995) was lots of fun, and we caught up on the Wallace and Gromits (1989–93).
Getting to see the Star Wars trilogy (1977–83) for the first time and on the big screen should probably be the most lasting memories, but Star Wars doesn't have the same impact when you're already in double digits, so I was more taken with the sci-fi/comedy blend of the MIB and Mars Attacks! (1996). My 'Trek voyages on TV and video were limited to the famously erratic odd-numbered entries, though I always thought Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984) was great and I liked the lacklustre Star Trek Generations (1994) at the time. Star Trek V was always a load of shite though.
Top 'Treks Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982, telly) and Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991, video) would be more acceptable, in-character picks, and are ones I come back to today, but seeing this cloying disaster blockbuster on the big screen was the most immersive experience I've had watching a film. I've had Titanic-ish dreams. Armageddon (1998, cinema) was an entertaining popcorn flick, Event Horizon (1997, video) scared the shit out of me. I finally saw the original and best Naked Gun (1988, telly), and Groundhog Day (1993, video) was another comedy keeper.
1999 – Planet of the Apes (1968)
Dad's 'Apes boxset didn't get dug out as often as the Back to the Futures and Star Warses, but this was a classic all the same. The Sixth Sense (1999) was my favourite cinematic horror, but The Blair Witch Project (1999) was a good ride and I gave The Haunting remake (1999) more credit than I would today. South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut (1999) was fun but disposable, whereas it'd take me a long time to fully appreciate Monty Python's The Meaning of Life (1983). Star Trek: Insurrection (1998) and The X-Files film (1998) were okay, but not all I'd hoped they'd be, though nowhere near as disappointing as Guest House Paradiso (1999). A dejected two-star review was the first content I ever published online the following year.
2000 – 12 Monkeys (1995)
The first non-Python Terry Gilliam film I saw and one of his more restrained, which works out for the best. The Truman Show (1998) was the other best film I saw that year, but I didn't appreciate it at the time. I was late to The Matrix (1999) party, catching up on VHS because it was obviously more important to see the likes of Guest House Paradiso and Kevin and Perry Go Large on the big screen. Also on VHS, Cube (1997) was a nice blend of intriguing, horrifying and unintentionally amusing. I had my first DVD experiences with American Pie (1999) and Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999) to really make the most of the format.
I found this funny when I saw bits of it as an eight-year-old, but seeing it properly as a newly minted rock fan, it temporarily usurped Holy Grail to become my new favourite. It's still very funny, even if you can't unsee the expansion of a minimalist comedy sketch to film proportions once you learn that. The 40% of Wayne's World 2 (1994) that isn't lazy parodies is good too. Alien (1979), Sleepy Hollow (1999) and The Crow (1994) seduced me with their dark aesthetics, but I wouldn't appreciate the latter's glorified cathartic violence nowadays. Trekkies (1997) was a rewatchable documentary, if a little mean spirited.
2002 – Nosferatu (1922)
This cheeky Dracula rip-off is best experienced as your first silent film for added otherworldly unnervingness. I had no idea something so old could be so captivating, that was a valuable lesson. Of less impressive vintage, Jason and the Argonauts (1963) was nostalgic retro fantasy fun, but not as fun as Conan the Barbarian (1982). I wouldn't have given the Schwarzenegger & sorcery vehicle the time of day by myself, but it was the shared experience of laughing at its dodgier aspects and flat-out appreciating most of it that made it part of my Friday night routine around Dan's when Sky Movies circulated it for a while. My brother got Fight Club (1999) on DVD, that was quite good.
My first (and best) David Lynch film is another sinister and enduring favourite. I was lucky enough to watch it away from home without internet access, so I could enjoy the privilege of confusion briefly before presumably looking it up the next morning and being told what to think. I checked out Blade Runner (1982) after reading the book and admired the audio-visual feast, shame it kept getting interrupted by plot. Terry Gilliam's Brazil (1985) was another memorable dystopia, but not all I'd built it up to be. Ring (1998) likely had more of an impact than I realised, considering some of the nightmares I've had.
Impressed by Clarke's Rendezvous with Rama, I started to read 2001, but gave up before we left prehistoric times and ordered the DVD instead. I was blown away. Which is a shame for Akira (1988), Dark City (1998), Donnie Darko (2001), Eraserhead (1977), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), Shaun of the Dead (2004), This Is Spinal Tap (1984) and any other good films I foolishly squandered on 2004 when they couldn't hope to compete, rather than saving them up for a fallow year. At least 2001's out of the way now, so it can't ruin anything else.
This smart-arse film about filmmaking was my favourite we studied on my literature and film course, being a masturbatory metafiction writer myself at the time. Rear Window (1957) was second best, which I had fun overanalysing to death.
Memento (2000), Withnail and I (1987) and Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii (2002 version) were my favourite extracurricular films, though Troll 2 (1990) was so superlatively worst, it was almost best.
Memento (2000), Withnail and I (1987) and Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii (2002 version) were my favourite extracurricular films, though Troll 2 (1990) was so superlatively worst, it was almost best.
I'd been curious about this procedural folk horror musical murder mystery ever since it was mentioned as an influence on The League of Gentlemen. Their Apocalypse (2005) didn't spell a promising cinematic career for the troupe, though the Wicker Manish Hot Fuzz (2007) was probably my favourite British comedy film this side of Monty Python. I also belatedly discovered the joy of Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) and took an intriguing and confusing voyage through The Mindscape of Alan Moore (2005). Citizen Kane (1941) and King Kong (1933) were my favourite very old things and Borat (2006) and The Dark Knight (2008) the best new things, even if I didn't love them as much as I think you're supposed to.
We couldn't get enough of these rug-pulling mysteries in the 2000s, maybe Fight Club or The Sixth Sense started it? This wasn't great or anything, but I liked the unpleasant atmosphere. Living without internet for a while, I put the DVD collections of flatmates to use and ticked off a lot of IMDB Top 250-type certified classics. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975), The Silence of the Lambs (1991) and Paperhouse (1988) were the ones I liked best, more than your Godfathers and things. Mixed feelings about Blue Velvet (1986). Pink Floyd – The Wall (1982) was better than expected after the Tommy (1975) debacle.
Some good releases this year, including Inception (2010), Shutter Island (2010) and Four Lions (2010), which I nevertheless didn't bother to see at the cinema or support financially, so I'm the problem. More characterisically out of date, Children of Men (2006) and The Road (2009) were good, depressing sci-fi, while This Is England (2006) was significantly more depressing and affecting for not being sci-fi, that stayed with me. Zowie Bowie's Moon didn't seem all that harrowing by comparison, but it recaptured some of that 2001 magic science ahead of Interstellar (2014; the future).
I treated myself to some nostalgia and false nostalgia when watching/rewatching the Indiana Jones and Jurassic Park trilogies, but this was the only new-to-me entry that was any good. I didn't watch many films generally, Source Code (2011) being my favourite new film almost by default. Mark Gatiss' History of Horror documentary led me to watch Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Witchfinder General (1968) and some less classic horrors. Hellraiser (1987) was cheesetastic and ingeniously gross.
I failed to get through Fritz Lang's archetypal allegory as a teenager, not having the accessible cheese of the Moroder soundtrack to hold my hand back then. Other new-very-old favourites of my silent season were L'inferno (1911) and phantasmagorically infotaining docudrama Häxan (1922), while Dracula (1958) and The Vampire Lovers (1970) were my favourite Hammer horrors watched around an unatmospheric tropical Halloween. Top Secret! (1984) and The World's End (2013) were funny; When the Wind Blows (1986) skilfully balanced humour and unbearable misery; Threads (1984) didn't bother with the humour part.
I didn't read any reviews, so don't know whether this eco sci-fi epic was overhyped or underrated, but I can't think of a better modern SF film. Predestination (2014) was a decent adaptation of Heinlein's terminally tangled short story. I don't know how The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008) compares to Fitzgerald's story, or The Prestige (2006) to that significantly less famous writer's book, but both had plenty of atmosphere. Pan's Labyrinth (2006) was a good inappropriate kids' film and Coherence (2013) was creative in its low-budget minimalism.
2016–17 – Powaqqatsi: Life in Transformation (1988)
I made the effort to watch more documentaries rather than entertaining fluff, even if this trilogy was mainly to get context for Philip Glass' soundtracks that had been part of my work playlists for years. The Imposter (2012) was my favourite recent one, which I won't spoil more than its title completely does already. Back in the world of thoughtful fluff, Ex Machina (2015) and Arrival (2016) were decent sci-fi films, and fake silent film The Call of Cthulhu (2005) was very well done. Hugo (2011) and Moonrise Kingdom (2012) were nice films, Eyes Wide Shut (1999) and Melancholia (2011) were artfully not nice.
2018 – Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
I finally got around to watching a whole lot of classics this year. It was satisfying and moreish, with far too many good ones to list. This was the best new-to-me Kubrick, Strangers on a Train (1951) was probably my favourite Hitchcock (along with Vertigo, Psycho, Rope, The 39 Steps, et al), Skyfall (2012) maybe my favourite Bond and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988) a delightful new-to-me Gilliam. Other old films enjoyed but not obsessively catalogued until now included It's a Wonderful Life (1946), Star Trek forebear Forbidden Planet (1956) and The Haunting (1963), despite me having rudely dismissed it outright at 14 for being "made in black and white decades ago." Blade Runner 2049 (2017) was the best almost-new film.
I'd been obligated to watch Bergman's morbid classic ever since I saw it parodied in Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey at six. It's a similarly bogus journey, though more unremittingly bleak and apocalyptic than zany. Seven Samurai (1954) was another good seven-based film, Sunrise (1927) was F. W. Murnau's best non-vampire-based film and Blazing Saddles (1974) was one of the only Mel Brooks films worth watching. As a near-lifelong Red Dwarf fan, I finally got around to checking out major influences like Silent Running (1972) and Dark Star (1974).
Watching silent and subtitled films to help me get through completely unrelated audiobooks is one of my various strange quirks. This ghoulish fairy tale was a new, almost-century-old favourite, and Battleship Potemkin (1925) and Rashomon (1950) were good too, despite the overblown reputations. When I turned the sound on, On the Waterfront (1954) was a worthy talkie, Suspiria (1977) was an insubstantial feast for the senses and Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) was some fun nonsense.
Studio Ghibli's whimsical fables didn't feature in my own monocultural childhood, but as the first films approved for my daughter's magical future nostalgia, her verbatim roleplaying of Totoro kids and Kiki's Delivery Service (1989) rubbed off, and it delayed the inevitable Disneys for a while. Notable stops on my own belated anime odyssey included Ji-fi anthologies Neo-Tokyo (1987) and Memories (1995), arty Angel's Egg (1985) and pervy climax The End of Evangelion (1997).
Stubbornly persevering through the J-horror canon, this demented haunted funhouse romp reigned supreme, while Onibaba (1964) and Occult (2009) were more blandly respectable picks. I recklessly bumped Spirited Away (2000) up the parenting schedule by a few years, but didn't like it as much as the toddler-friendly ones after all. Grave of the Fireflies (1988) was more impressive, but I probably won't be fast-tracking that one. L'avventura (1960) was a decent grown-up film.
I was going to sum up Bergman's enigmatic two-hander monologue as a less explicit Mulholland Drive, then I remembered the cock. Other good oldies included feature-length Twilight Zone Carnival of Souls (1962), dark Lapland fairy tale The White Reindeer (1952), public information drama Gaslight (1944) and sombre silent L'inhumaine (1924). In anime, military sci-fi launchpad Legend of the Galactic Heroes: My Conquest is the Sea of Stars (1988) impressed me enough to commit to its 110-part sequel and Voices of a Distant Star (2002) was an adorably retrofuturistic short.
- Inferno (1980) ****
- Daughters of Darkness (1971) ****
- Lips of Blood (1975) ****
- The Babadook (2014) *****
- I Saw the TV Glow (2024) ****
- Hour of the Wolf (1968) ****
- Les Diaboliques (1955) *****
- The City of the Dead (1960) ****
Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)
More a legacy pick than an active favourite, but it still makes me laugh on the thousandth or so viewing. The Back to the Futures (1985–90), good Star Trek films (1982–91, not '88) and probably even bloody Wayne's World (1992) are more timeless comfort viewing that never get old. In more recent decades, the likes of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Nosferatu (1922) and Mulholland Drive (2001) get dusted off every few years, while My Neighbor Totoro (1988) and Kiki's Delivery Service (1989) are perfect kids' films I caught on the parenting side.
~ Best Books & Comics of 1985–2024 ~
I saw through the crudity of incongruous typewriting over template art of stockings and street signs before I saw through the Santa myth, but this was actually pretty special, taking Me on a world tour that introduced me to the Northern Lights and a vision of Russia I still naively conjure when reading Gorky and listening to Rimsky-Korsakov and the like. Other live audiobooks from the short decade were a mix of fairy tales and cartoon annuals I couldn't read to myself yet.
1990–92 – Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles Adventures (1990–91)
1993 – Dinosaurs! (1993)
Turtlemania's grand finale saw me seeking out the elusive early-episode novelisations (1990) in an artistic parallel to Donatello tracking down the fragments of the Eye of Sarnoth, but it was 1993 now, so there were also dino books and magazines that dispensed with patronising comic strips in favour of stats and a collectable T-rex. I did more extracurricular learning with Sun, Stars & Planets (1990), stocking puzzler The Crystal Maze Mystery: The Crystal Thief (1993) kept me from waking everyone up on Christmas morning, Alvin Schwartz's In a Dark, Dark Room and Other Scary Stories (1984) was good for scaring younger siblings, and the Garfield Annual 1993 (1992) was the motivational prize promised and won for learning to swim on holiday, since priceless life skills aren't their own reward.
1994 – Dave Morris, Knightmare: The Dragon's Lair (1993)
The feature story wasn't very interesting, rather it was the multiple-choice gamebook at the back that made reading a viable alternative to playing on the Amiga. I kept Martin Handford's Where's Wally: The Fantastic Journey (1989) in my school bag to help me deal with Amiga cravings. The junior novelisation of The Mask (1994) would do until the video came out, and Bruce Coville's My Teacher Is an Alien (1989) was some nice X-Files lite to tide me over to Thursday. If this was the year we went to the Isle of Wight for the first time, the Brading Wax Museum souvenir guide (1989), with its vivid torture scenes, was a long-time favourite. I enjoyed Amiga Format magazine (1994) for the cover disks and the 5% or so that was about games and got several casual issues of Sonic the Comic (1994).1995 – Sonic the Comic (1995)
The most literary years of my childhood were still ruled by a franchise cash-in thanks to Nigel Kitching and Richard Elson's smart and satisfying adaptation of Sonic 3 & Knuckles and further extrapolations. Roald Dahl's The Witches (1983) was my favourite proper book, which should've kicked off a Dahl odyssey, but the only other one I remember reading was James and the Giant Peach (1961). It's probably because I got distracted by Narnia, though The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952) and The Magician's Nephew (1955) set too high a standard that the next couple didn't reach, so I didn't finish it. I did get through Gillian Cross' Demon Headmaster series (1982–94), and Robert Swindells' Room 13 (1989) made me want to visit Whitby, which we did the next year. That's not to mention all the Sonic books, because they were crap.
1996 – Bruce Coville, I Left My Sneakers in Dimension X (1994)
There was no indication that this was the second book in a series when I was impressed by the cover, nor that the promised science fiction would turn out more like Space Narnia. These things weren't hindrances. When I spotted a familiar logo on a charity shop bookshelf, I tackled my first adult book, Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park (1990), then it was back to unchallenging children's TV with Mark Haddon's Agent Z and the Penguin from Mars (1995), choosing to repeat what I'd already seen rather than trying one of his other ones. My brother chose an interesting book on Strange Coincidences (1990) from a Ripley's Believe It or Not! gift shop, I started a solid Point anthology of Thirteen More Tales of Horror (1994), and it was the last great year for Sonic the Comic (1996), boosted by back issues (1994) bought from the amused guy in the year below me at school who'd outgrown them.1997 – The Official Star Trek Fact Files (1997)
A second-rate substitute for seeing the episodes, even more so than novelisations, but it was the '90s and I had to make do. Howarth and Lyons' Red Dwarf Programme Guide (1997) was also primarily a way for me to experience shows I wouldn't get to see for a while. I at least used Phil Farrand's Nitpicker's Guide for Next Generation Trekkers (1993) in its intended supplementary manner, making those bad early episodes more tolerable by taking the piss. With my foundation year in the franchise complete, I was ready to follow and completely spoil new developments with Star Trek Monthly (1998).
Lee and Herring became pretty much my favourite thing after TMWRNJ, so I was ecstatic to find this in the library, especially when it turned out to be great. I also got my mitts on the long-sought-after The Art of Star Trek (1995). The Viz Book of Crap Jokes and More Viz Crap Jokes (1996–99) were sometimes brilliant in their desperation and Blackadder: The Whole Damn Dynasty (1998) proved a great holiday companion, back when you couldn't just take telly around with you.
2000–02 – Terry J. Erdmann with Paula M. Block, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (2000)
It's a shame I didn't discover these books when I was even younger, so they could have had more of an impact. Philip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (1968) was my first proper sci-fi book, followed shortly by Arthur C. Clarke's Rendezvous with Rama (1973) before this new enthusiasm fizzled out too soon. Christopher Marlowe's Doctor Faustus (1592) was the best book taught at school, and Dave Gorman and Danny Wallace's Are You Dave Gorman? (2002) was a nice alternative take on the show.
I didn't really grasp Adams' densest and strangest book until I read it again more than a decade later (and maybe not even then), but there was enough dazzling mental imagery to encourage me to plough through regardless. Otherwise, I mainly read books by comedians, David Baddiel's Time for Bed (1996) being quite relatable and Stewart Lee's The Perfect Fool (2001) and Richard Herring's Talking Cock (2002) helping to fill my Lee and Herring hole before I got to see them in the flesh.
2005–06 – Phaidon Press, The Art Book (1995)
2007 – Neil Gaiman and artists, The Sandman (1989–95)
I enjoyed T. S. Eliot, Virginia Woolf and other modernists we studied, but they couldn't compete with the comics I dived into after graduating. Neil's mythology mash-up is just about my favourite written thing, especially early on and peaking early with The Doll's House. From Hell (1989–98) was my favourite from Alan Moore, but less welcoming to re-reading than the likes of Saga of the Swamp Thing (1984–87) and Watchmen (1987). I also enjoyed Neil's Mr. Punch (1994) and Garth Ennis' Hellblazer run (1991–94), even if it blurs together through consistency and method drinking. Iain Banks' The Wasp Factory (1984) was my favourite "normal" book, which tells you something about the types of books I was reading.
Philip Pullman and a full cast read his modern classic of magical atheism to me while I worked low-effort festive overtime in a quiet office. I enjoyed the second book especially for its nostalgic CBBC drama vibes. Working through the silver tier of comics, Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon's Preacher (1995–2000) and Alan Moore's Supreme: The Story of the Year (2002) were a lot of fun. Art Spiegelman's Maus (1980–91) was less fun, but worthy. I predictably enjoyed Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) and Cat's Cradle (1963), Ken Follett's The Pillars of the Earth (1989) was more of a surprise.
2009–10 – Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine, Last Chance to See (1990)
I found this gonzo extinction odyssey insightful and affecting, even before I'd travelled some of the world and seen some of these doomed creatures in the incarcerated flesh. I expanded my mind further with plenty of pop science, pop psychology and pop philosophy from the likes of Carl Sagan, Richard Wiseman and Julian Baggini, but nonsense like Charlie Brooker's TV Go Home (2001) and Robin Hardy's Cowboys for Christ (2006) was more fun. The Complete Ghost Stories of M.R. James (1895–1911) accompanied my aimless wanderings around Edinburgh and, irrelevantly, Corfu.
2011 – Alan Partridge with Rob Gibbons, Neil Gibbons, Armando Iannucci and Steve Coogan, I, Partridge: We Need to Talk About Alan (2011)
Probably the funniest fictional book I've ever read (not in the mood for maintaining the illusion, sorry), this lightened up a rainy write-off of a month in the Philippines. Richard Adams' Watership Down (1972), Iain Banks' The Bridge (1986) and Dan Simmons' Drood (2009) were considerably less cheery, the vague anthology Mysteries (1994) was a good bus book, and I decided that every home should have a D'Aulaire's Book of Greek Myths (1967). I'll have to work on that.
This smart-arse monastic murder mystery was a constant companion when eating beachside curries in Sri Lanka, and I was so engrossed in the fruitless quest for meaning that my real memories of the place are mixed up with mouldy manuscripts, secret chambers and giant lion statues. Oh hang on, that one was real. Neil Gaiman's Anansi Boys (2005) was the best of his novels I'd read up to that point. Stewart Lee's How I Escaped My Certain Fate and its follow-up (2010–12) were reliably amusing transcripts of things I'd already seen.
2013 – Dan Simmons, Hyperion (1989)
This silent graphic novel is one of the most affecting books I've ever "read," relating to the alienating experience of arriving in a strange land now that I was settling down (for the medium term, at least). Joe Dever's Lone Wolf gamebooks (1984–85) are some of the most fun I've had reading, until I lost my cumulative stats and bailed. Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897) and Patrick Süskind's Perfume (1985) were exquisite and atmospheric. Jon Ronson's Them (2001) and The Men Who Stare at Goats (2004) were hilarious and maddening.
Homer's Odyssey (~800 BCE) was the perfect primer for this show-off book that I did actually enjoy, because challenges are satisfying. Other favourites in a year when I arguably read too many books included The Fantasies of Robert A. Heinlein (1940–58), Robert Shearman's Remember Why You Fear Me (2012), Italo Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveller (1979), China Miéville's The City & the City (2009), Junji Ito's Uzumaki (1999) and Arthur Machen's The Hill of Dreams (1907), then there's all the ones that were merely great.
2016 – Alan Moore and Jacen Burrows, Providence #1–10 (2015–16)
There were still a couple of instalments left to go in the new year, but this Lovecraft mash-up was already jostling for position at the top of the Alan Moore ladder (the end let it down, if anything). It kicked off a Lovecraft revival that saw me enjoy and/or tolerate his complete stories (1905–36), preceded/exceeded by China Miéville's send-up Kraken (2010). Virginia Woolf's The Waves (1931), Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House (1959) and Mary Doria Russell's Doc (2011) were three ace books that happened to be written by women. Just a random observation.
This might not have been the most consistent short story bibliography I read that year, but peak Poe is some of my favourite stuff in literature. I don't do poems though. Arthur C. Clarke's The Collected Stories (1937–99), Clive Barker's Books of Blood: Volumes 1–6 (1984–85) and Robert E. Howard's The Complete Chronicles of Conan (1932–35) also had more hits than misses to recommend them. It's a shame William Hope Hodgson didn't stick to his strengths more.
I could have read some important non-fiction to learn more about the dying fauna of our actual planet, but this convincing pretend zoography was more captivating. Alan Moore's Jerusalem (2016) was powerful, but wearying. Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962) and Philip K. Dick's Galactic Pot-Healer (1969) were a more sensible length.
David "Not That One" Mitchell's pastiche mixtape isn't wholly successful, but it gets points for the sheer cheek of pulling it off. Neverwhere (1996) turned out to be the best Neil Gaiman novel and Ubik (1969) the best Philip K. Dick novel, so that's good to know. Dave Morris' Heart of Ice (1994) was another classic gamebook and Richard McGuire's Here (2014) a very ambitious flipbook. In non-fiction, Robert Anton Wilson's Prometheus Rising (1983) and Simon Barnes' Rewild Yourself (2018) rewired my brain, Danny Wallace's Join Me (2003) was the superior Dave Gorman sequel and J. F. Roberts' The True History of the Black Adder (2012) was a grand indulgence.
2021 – Arthur Conan Doyle, The Original Illustrated Strand Sherlock Holmes (1887–1927)
Serialising obese anthologies to get the best value out of this category, this semi-reread's consistent cases and Gary Larson's daily doses of surreality in The Complete Far Side (1979–2003) proved to be timeless archives for the ages, while The World Treasury of Science Fiction (1937–88) made some more dubious selections. Al Ewing and Henry Flint's Zombo (2009–13) and Kris Straub's Broodhollow (2012–14) were differently insane comic sagas, Horace Walpole's gloomy The Castle of Otranto (1764) and Arthur C. Clarke's grandiose The City and the Stars (1956) were my favourite stand-alone novels, A. A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh (1926) was the most charming children's book.
An exquisite rustic tapestry extended by The Bitterwood Bible (2014), it'll be a while before I can share these bedtime stories. In more family-friendly literature, The Hutchinson Treasury of Stories to Read Aloud (2003) was a good value picture book album and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (1964) and The BFG (1982) were the best Roald Dahls I hadn't read before, unless I had. Borges' The Book of Sand (1975) and Mark Samuels' The White Hands and Other Weird Tales (2003) were other good grown-up books, even if they didn't have pictures.
2023 – Oliver Gaywood, ...done with travel (2023)
- Matthew Gregory Lewis, The Monk (1796) ****
- Alan Partridge with Neil Gibbons, Rob Gibbons and Steve Coogan, Big Beacon (2023) *****
- Steve Aylett, The Crime Studio (1994) ****
- Jonathan Morris, Doctor Who: Touched by an Angel (2011) *****
- Naomi A. Alderman, Doctor Who: Borrowed Time (2011) ****
- Ben Egloff and artists, The Game Master's Book of Astonishing Random Tables (2023) *****
- Various, Red Dwarf Series Sourcebook (2002) ****
Best Book of 1985–2024:
Neil Gaiman and artists, The Sandman Omnibus, Vol. 1 (1989–92, collected 2013)
I've always treated The Sandman as a ten-volume series of themed paperbacks, but if I'm picking the best book that physically exists, this conveniently collects my preferred half of the run (#1–37 + special) and beats the Alan Moores on quantity at a generous 1,040 mostly excellent pages. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Red Dwarf are probably the best "normal" books, Paradise Lost is the best "poem," Rhys Hughes writes the best short stories.
~ Best Albums of 1985–2024 ~
Childhood novelty appreciation of 'Jilted John' and 'Bohemian Rhapsody' aside, I'd never been especially bothered about music before this collection of energetic modern punk with tongue-in-cheek lyrics and (importantly) skeleton art opened the gate.
Further Offspring albums were the logical next step (1989–2000), let's overlook the Blink-182 (1999).
2001 – AFI, The Art of Drowning (2000)
2002 – Metallica, Ride the Lightning (1984)
I started to settle down and consolidate on the music front. After a horror punk interval with more AFI albums and EPs (1997–99) and the Misfits' Famous Monsters (1999), I completed my Metallica collection (1983–2003) and explored more classic, hairy metal, appreciating Manowar (1982–2002) both ironically and sincerely before ending up in more wholesome Iron Maiden country (1980–2000) and gradually growing to love them the most. Nine Inch Nails' The Downward Spiral (1994) provided the soundtrack to the only book I read, since it was the closest thing I had to ambience. Fear Factory's Demanufacture (1995) was the hardest stuff in my drinks cabinet so far.2003 – Iron Maiden, Live After Death (1985)
I was never completely sure which 'Maiden studio album was my favourite (settling on Seventh Son eventually... I think), but this live release showcasing the best of the first five made that decision easier. I listened to it a lot, so it's not cheating. On cassette, to be authentically old-school, which amused the friends who already despaired at my 'gumby' taste. Beyond Maiden, but sticking with the letter I, In Flames' The Tokyo Showdown (2000) and Iced Earth's Something Wicked This Way Comes (1998) were other favorites. There was also Queensrÿche's Operation: Mindcrime (1988), Symphony X's The Divine Wings of Tragedy (1997), Blind Guardian's Nightfall in Middle-Earth (1998), Ayreon's Flight of the Migrator (2000) and Bruce Dickinson's Accident of Birth (1997) and The Chemical Wedding (1997–98), the best Maiden albums of the '90s.2004 – Iced Earth, Alive in Athens (1999)
Iced Earth climbed to the elite ranks of Maiden and Metallica when I heard their early work (1990–95), introduced via this impressively comprehensive triple live album, as did Black Sabbath when I started their discography from the top (1970–72). Aside from the Big Four, other frequent spins were Dream Theater's Images and Words (1992) and Metropolis Pt. 2 (1999), Edguy's Mandrake (2001) and Hellfire Club (2004), Avantasia's Metal Operas (2001–02), Judas Priest's Metal Works '73-'93 and the distinctly mellower sounds of Vangelis' Blade Runner (1982/94), The Cure's Disintegration (1989) and Opeth's Damnation (2003). Well, I was an adult now. Technically.2005 – Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon (1973)
2006 – Bathory, In Memory of Quorthon (2006 compilation)
When my chronological prog voyage reached the choppy seas of the 1980s, I rebelled against that polished pomp by going raw and sinister. This triple-CD anthology gave me plenty to sink my fangs into and led me down a Viking metal niche in the company of Amon Amarth (1996–2002), Månegarm (2003–05) and Týr (2003). Arsonist-murderer Burzum's Filosofem (1996) fascinated me, in and out of morally dubious context, while The Misfits' Static Age (1978/96) was a lighter shade of dark, a nostalgic punk reprisal with acceptable vintage. Candlemass (1986–89) filled my Sabbath void after I finished them off, and Bowie's discography would remain stalled at Scary Monsters (1980) for a few years.2007 – R.E.M., Murmur (1983)
2008 – Depeche Mode, Violator (1990)
2009 – The Who, Who's Next (1971)
I'd checked out Tommy (1969) and Quadrophenia (1973) earlier when going through the classic concept albums, but The Who didn't really click until I stripped back to them just playing songs. My neofolk appreciation moved on from black metal bands mellowing out to bands who specialised in that type of dark pastoral music, and Death in June's But, What Ends When the Symbols Shatter? (1992) seemed to be the peak of that. Working through a torrent of Pitchfork Media's arbitrary best 500 songs led me to check out more from Joy Division, Björk and many more. Going back to the '60s, The Velvet Underground and Nico (1967) and The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds (1966) did more for me than The Beatles ever did.This was a favourite thing to listen to around the time I took an aeroplane over the sea and started travelling, so this is a sentimental pick too. Soon after, I found out that old stalwarts Iron Maiden had a new album out (The Final Frontier), which will always remind me of throwing up in a Jerusalem hostel toilet. Industrial Legacy Vol. 5 – Neofolk and Neoclassical (2008 compilation) and The Best of Simon and Garfunkel (1999 compilation) soundtracked nature walks. The Edinburgh part of the year was accompanied by Against Me's White Crosses (2010), Nick Cave's The Boatman's Call (1997) and Murder Ballads (1996) and Roger Waters' Amused to Death (1992).2011 – Dream Theater, A Dramatic Turn of Events (2011)
A bit of a metal throwback year generally, with new albums from Dream Theater and Iced Earth's Dystopia (2011) being their best releases since I started paying attention and belatedly discovering Dio's best band via The Best of Rainbow (1981 compilation), 'Stargazer' (1976) instantly becoming a top two/three song. Then I had to let the side down by enjoying a chillaxed Enigma best-of (2009) during a stormy plane ride. Carl Orff's 'Gassenhauer' (1920s), Virgin Steele's 'Veni, Vidi, Vici' (1998), Big Blood's 'Graceless Lady' (2008) and Machine Head's 'I Am Hell (Sonata In C#)' (2011) were other favourite songs of the year with memorable associations.2012 – The Devin Townsend Project, Ghost (2011)
Hevy Devy's New Age chillout album was just what the doctor ordered when I holed up in a Korean mountain lodge for a few weeks and had lots of baths. Thin Lizzy were my new old band of 2012, with historical epics to rival Iron Maiden's and straightforward rockers when you can't be arsed, mainly dividing my time between Jailbreak (1976) and the self-aggrandising Black Rose: A Rock Legend (1979). Dire Straits' Love over Gold (1982) and Brothers in Arms (1985) were other passive-aggressively recommended keepers, I got irrelevantly infatuated with Marillion's Misplaced Childhood (1985) while in Australia, and found lots to admire in oft-maligned '90s Bowie. Bit of a dad-rock year generally.
I got around to comprehensively completing Nick Cave this year (1983–2013), and this new-to-me one with its engrossing melancholy storylines was the one I ended up playing the most. Led Zeppelin was the new old band of 2013, principally Houses of the Holy (1973), and new new band Ghost's Infestissumam (2013) was wickedly enchanting. The Antlers' Burst Apart (2011) and Ben Folds' Rockin' the Suburbs (2001) were more wholesomely resonant, new David Bowie (2013) was dependably good and Stratovarius' Fourth Dimension (1995) was quite the student throwback by this point.2014 – Radiohead, The Bends (1995)
I was mainly on an Icelandic kick with Ólafur Arnalds (2010–13), Sigur Rós (1999–2005) and others, but this was the year I finally 'got' Radiohead. By going from the top rather than jumping in at the accepted classics, I found it much more enjoyable... for an album or two. Maybe in a few more years I'll be smart enough to understand why I'm supposed to like O.K. Computer (1997) more. I also found myself enjoying Marillion's "decline" more than their heyday by sticking exclusively to the soft-rock second disc of The Best of Both Worlds (1989–95). The new-old Pink Floyd album (2014) was boring though.
2015 – Dead Can Dance, Anastasis (2012)
2016 – Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Penguin Cafe Orchestra (1981)
2017 – Tubeway Army, Replicas (1979)
I can't remember what prompted me to finally give electric goth Gary Numan a try. I probably read something about this album's Philip K. Dick-inspired concept, that'd do it. It's sort of like Fear Factory if you took away all the bloody noise. Speaking of bloody noise, I got around to listening to Cradle of Filth's Hammer of the Witches (2015) and it was the best work the extreme literary goths had done since the '90s. Checking out more of punk goths The Damned, Strawberries (1982) and Phantasmagoria (1985) were keepers. Bit of a goth year generally. Uriah Heep's Demons and Wizards (1972) was more good fantasy rock about nonsense.2018 – The Cranberries, Gold (2008 compilation)
Belatedly discovering this famous band I'm too obscure to have heard of wasn't a direct result of the news, but it only took a couple of songs for me to be interested enough to google them and learn why they were probably being recommended by YouTube during my moody '90s rock marathon. The Smashing Pumpkins' Adore (1996) and Angelo Badalamenti's soundtracks for Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992) and The Straight Story (1999) were more '90s things I belatedly enjoyed; ELO's Time (1981) was disappointingly older and Chromatics' Kill for Love (2012) annoyingly more modern, just to break the theme.2019 – ２８１４, 新しい日の誕生 (Birth of a New Day) (2015)
This ethereal neon ambience turned out to be a better modern Vangelis than Vangelis to score my sci-fi reading and life at the laptop generally. Other favoured atmospheric book/work soundtracks and destressers in this instrumental year included 2814 collaborator HKE's HK (2015), Vangelis' rustic Earth (1970), Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony (1808), Dorothy Ashby's solo jazz harp on Django/Misty (1984), psychedelic sofa surfing with The Ventures (1960s) and Csarnogurszky István's various windswept projects and collaborations (2015–19). While it wasn't new to me, I was also mildly obsessed with John Williams' Superman theme (1978) for a while there.2020 – Lazerhawk, Redline (2010)
2021 – Deep & Chilled Euphoria (2001 compilation)
The spoils of another year's ceaseless search for nice background music. After coming down from the non-existent rave, I filled up on a Ray Lynch Deep Breakfast (1984) while browsing Kraftwerk's 3-D Der Katalog (2017) before nervously wandering Harold Budd's Abandoned Cities (1984), crawling through Massive Attack's Mezzanine (1998), stepping into Windows 96's Glass Prism (2020), getting invasively scanned by Filmmaker's Screening Plexus (2021) and emerging in Hawkwind's Hall of the Mountain Grill (1974) to experience Still Corners' Strange Pleasures (2013) with Jim Kirkwood's Master of Dragons (1991). That's the last time I take etc.
These haunting sounds of decay proved a perfectly fitting soundtrack to my diminishing work. Popol Vuh's Hosianna Mantra (1972) and Hiroshi Yoshimura's Flora 1987 (2006) were other contemplative moods and The Frozen Autumn's Chirality (2011) was the best gothic revival. Solaris' Marsbéli Krónikák (1984), Jess and the Ancient Ones' altar-rocking debut (2012) and Droid Bishop's Rebirth of the Machine (2019) made do when things were somewhat more upbeat.
2023 – Rudimentary Peni, Death Church (1983)
2024
- Molchat Doma, Etazhi (2018) ****
- ZZ Top, Afterburner (1985) ****
- Prism, Nothin' Unusual (1985) ****
- Various, Household Shocks (1980) *****
- Catapilla, Changes (1972) ****
- Alice Cooper, Billion Dollar Babies (1973) ****
- Various, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon Sailor Stars Music Collection, Vols 1 & 2 (2010) ****
- Dystopian Society, Overturned Reality (2015) *****
- Devil Master, Ecstasies of Never Ending Night (2022) ****
- Various, Top Gun soundtrack (1986) *****
Best Album of 1985–2024:
The Cure, Disintegration (1989)
It didn't win 2004, because the spider took its time to weave its sturdy webs until I was irrevocably entangled. This ethereal trip would have been my top pick for the last eleven years or so, since I calmed down, and it's comforting to also have Pink Floyd on tap when needed. For something more upbeat there's instrumental synthwave, and these days I'm more likely to go back to '90s Green Day than the rock and metal that followed, so there's a tidy loop for you.
~ Best Radio Shows, Podcasts & Spoken Word ~
Audiobooks belong in the books category, however good the production, but I'll make an exception for these teenage bedtime stories, which were my favourite thing to listen to, over and over again, before I liked any music. Chris "Rimmer" Barrie's impressions of his cast mates and other assorted characters help to solidify the novel universe as an equally valid alternative to the TV series, these two tastefully abridged "seasons" standing alongside the best of those.
2003–04 – Lee and Herring (1994–95)
2007 – Why Bother? (1994)
2008 – The Ricky Gervais Show (2001–08)
Ricky, Steve and Karl would get dusted off for another guilty go-around several times over the next few years when I got bored of listening to more worthwhile audiobooks. The Chris Morris Music Show (1994) was another retro radio gem, particularly for his pitch-black, semi-improvised roleplays with Peter Baynham, while Adam and Joe's BBC 6 music show and Collings and Herrin were current weekly treats. My relaxing data entry job and wanderings were also soundtracked by various radio dramas, most notably The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1978–80), Clive Merrison Sherlock Holmes (1989–1998) and People Like Us (1995–97).
2009–11 – As It Occurs to Me (2009–11)
Herring achieved peak podcast when he loosely reimagined his BBC radio series as a recorded live event. The raw immediacy, desperate running gags, irresistible catchphrases and ever-dangling peril of failure and/or insanity made AIOTM (AIOTM) one of my favourite things in the world over its three-year run, dramatically crossing over with Collings and Herrin until both podcasts ended around the same time as other stalwarts Adam and Joe, Ricky, Steve and Karl, and Robin and Josie's Utter Shambles (2006–12). Over on traditional radio, I enjoyed So Wrong It's Right (2010–11), The Unbelievable Truth (2006–11) and The Twilight Zone (2002–11).
2012–13 – The Bugle (2012–13)
Without Collings and Herrin around to give a scatalogical look at the news, I had to settle for world-class satirists Oliver and Zaltzman instead. The Frank Skinner Show handled the mundane observations front, Herring interviewed lots of interesting people in his new podcast RHLSTP (RHLSTP), Josie Long's Lost Treasures of the Black Heart podcast (2013) brought back the feeling of the Fringe, and The Post Atomic Horror Podcast (2010–13) was a nostalgic 'trek. Meanwhile, Leonard Nimoy and John de Lancie's Alien Voices audio plays (1997) presented a more appealing alternative to audiobooks for getting through some of the vintage sci-fi classics and Cabin Pressure (2008–11) was a good radio sitcom.
I walked and worked through the uneven sprawl of Big Finish's multiple Paul McGann Doctor Who ranges, Lost Stories, Unbound hypotheticals and other miscellaneous audios (2001–13) to plug the long telly gap, then this quality radio adaptation swooped in right at the end of the year and reminded me that I prefer comedy after all.
2015–18 – The ParaPod (2015–17)
2019–21 – Cliché & Son of Cliché (1981–84)
The podcast's reign ended when I became a shut-in and decided that proper audiobooks and discographies were a more worthwhile use of my ears when I wasn't just watching telly, but Ian & Barry briefly brought it back as I belatedly burned through each new batch of nostalgic bullshit-busting. YouTube "true" horror stories were the new audio alternative when I felt like paying less attention, Lazy Masquerade being one of their less annoying curators (2015–18).
2019–21 – Cliché & Son of Cliché (1981–84)
I got more out of Grant Naylor's vintage radio series than just spotting all the proto-Red Dwarf jokes and connections, though that was part of it, and Ganymede & Titan's DwarfCast Book Club (2020–21) was a nice excuse to obsessively revisit classics. I'm still too apathetic for Robert Newman's political stand-up (2001–05), but there were some good puns. Archive Daniel Kitson (2004–05) and golden-age Billy Connolly stand-up albums (1985–91) were more relatable, and I finally got to hear nine minutes of a coveted TMWRNJ-era Lee and Herring live bootleg (1998), shame it wasn't the full show.
"The city council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens and the hierarchy of angels. The reminder is that you should not know anything about this."
It's a shame I didn't know about these transmissions when they first came out to confuse my exotic wanderings. An increasingly self-indulgent cult, but a dependable stockpile to work through between audiobooks.
Peak pod Partridge that I'll listen to again, which is fortunate, since this category hasn't had much going on for the last decade.
2024
- Maker's Ultimate Rabbit Holes & Conspiracy Theory Iceberg series (2024) ****
- London Particular (2020–23) ****
Best Spoken Word of 1985–2023:
Lee and Herring (1994–95)
I like to imagine mid-90s people tuning into Radio 1 FM for bland pop hits and being confused by the strange comedy and antagonistic music selections of Lee and Herring, Chris Morris & co. Amazing times.
~ Best Toys & Games, When I Played Any ~
If I followed the trends like a good little spoiled conformist, the Christmas continuity will have been a Ghostbusters '88, Batman '89 and Turtles '90, culminating in my dad lining up for hours outside Toys 'R' Us to secure the highly sought-after near-interchangeable plastic. The kit was even samey across the brands, but Ghostbusters had the horror-comedy edge. Over time I became less interested in figures and more contented doing the same jigsaws over and over, the best being the ingenious Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles Pizza Power Puzzles (1990). I'm obviously forgetting loads.
1991–92 – Scrabble (1938)
Whether I was enjoying an unfair scholarly advantage over a younger sibling or the democratic chaos of Dizzy Dinosaur (1987), board games were the big treats before the digital age came along to ruin everything irrevocably. I liked Cluedo (1949) too, though the dream of Mouse Trap (1963) was more exciting than the tedious reality. The Dandy and Beano Card Game (1990) had refreshing age-appropriate complexity compared to most tie-in crap.
We probably got some decent board games this Christmas too, but those are so first-part-of-the-1990s. We were an Amiga household now, and Dpaint and Wordworth (1993) took my creative juvenilia to the ephemeral virtual dimension. Out of the small batch of games that came with the A1200 or shortly after (in the classic 'red monitor' era, before it was fixed), I was initially more impressed by cartoony platformers Oscar (1993) and Alfred Chicken (1993), but budget puzzler Spellbound Dizzy (1991) proved the more satisfying (and frustrating) challenge in the long run.
What a massive diss to the Amiga library we cultivated over the year – from two-player frolics with The Chaos Engine (1993) to Pinball Fantasies (1992) and the Dizzy Collections (1991) – that Sega can swoop in at Christmas to snatch the crown. But I was most drawn to the colourful platformers (Zool (1992), Wonderdog (1993), et al.), and those all wanted to be Sonic. The MegaDrive was technically my brother's, which meant I suddenly spent a lot more time in his room playing Sonic 1 (1991), 2 or Knuckles (1994). We were rarely desperate enough to play Back to the Future Part III (1991).
We lacked the vital plug-in Sonic 3 (1994) for what felt like much longer than it probably was. Earthworm Jim (1994) was the best non-Sonic game on the console, but Ristar (1995) was another worthy rival. The Amiga 1200 held its own, largely thanks to the PD library. It was worth digging through the trash to find the likes of MegaBall AGA (1991). We got a second-hand Game Gear too, which was a bit like a Mattel Hoverboard going head to head with a Pitbull, but an interesting alternative nonetheless.
1996 – Super Mario World (1990)
Mario had never appealed as much as Sonic, but this immersive entry obsessed me for a couple of weeks or so over the summer of '96 when we got a second-hand SNES. Starwing (1993) was great too. I can't remember what was going on in Amiga land, Worms (1995) probably. More traditionally, I requested Monopoly (1935) and expensive video board game Atmosfear: The Harbingers (1995) for Christmas, which would be good for socialising, until I couldn't be bothered any more.
Between console eras, it was time for an Amiga renaissance as my dad bought several second-hand machines complete with pirate games (in both senses) and kept up with new releases. This interactive comedy was the best, even if I kept relying on a walkthrough. Frontier: Elite II (1993) was pretty mind-blowing, but I never progressed very far, Slam Tilt (1996) was peak pinball, Worms: The Director's Cut (1997) went above and beyond, Fantastic Dizzy (1991) was the best Dizzy game, even if I have a soft spot for the more basic ones, and the Mortal Kombats (1994) were gory delights.
Monkey Island 2: LeChuck's Revenge (1991) may or may not be better than the first, but it was a worthy follow-up before they brought in voices to ruin the atmosphere. I preferred this Pratchettesque fish-out-of-water fantasy though, with such pleasant scenery and music that you didn't mind wandering aimlessly for hours. Swapping between nine floppies got a bit tiresome though, the hard drive was a revelation. My mum bought us a PC this year or last, which I pushed to its limits playing Dig Dug (1982). My brother got a PlayStation, but there was nothing too exciting on there yet.
The hypnotic Deluxe PacMan (1992) on Amiga was my most frequent play, and Golden Axe (1989) was a snazzy latecomer, but the PlayStation won me over with an Amiga remake. Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver (1999) appealed to me too in its gothic gloom, but I didn't play more than the demo. I bought a box of Deep Space Nine cards for the Star Trek Customizable Card Game (1998), because I wanted to look at them. It's not like I knew any fellow collectors to play against.
I was never into anime or post-16-bit gaming generally (I'm too mature, with my children's adventure gamebooks and Doctor Who), but that didn't stop me getting engrossed in this colourful eco cyberpunk fantasy epic and devoting every extracurricular second to it over a number of weeks. I found Final Fantasy VIII (1999) to be a more satisfying challenge gameplay-wise, but its style was really dull and lifeless by comparison.
I don't know how this hack-'n'-slash-'em-up dungeon game compares to the competition, since it was satisfying enough that I didn't bother to look into them much. Predecessor Diablo (1996) couldn't help looking basic and limited by comparison, but it made up for that in atmosphere. The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind (2002) went the other way by being overwhelmingly expansive, so I didn't end up achieving much of virtual worth. On a friend's console, Gauntlet: Dark Legacy (2002) kept things entertainingly old-school in a way that was almost insulting to parents who'd shelled out for an Xbox.
ScummVM opened a treasure chest of nostalgia and retro treats that I still haven't worked through, with occasional gaps of five years or so between games when I forget. While there's no beating the Monkey Islands™, this dystopian mystery shares the second tier with Simon the Sorcerer as one of the best alternatives. I'm glad I caught up eventually. Over the next few years, I scraped out the barrel of the 16-bit Gens library for the express purpose of writing sarcastic game reviews for pennies, but there were no hidden gems to be found there, with the possible exception of Columns III: Revenge of Columns (1993).
2008–13 – Loom (1990)
Probably best known as the topic of a product placement gag in the more famous Secret of Monkey Island™, I won't have been alone in being surprised that Loom turned out to be a real thing. A fantasy game with a straight face and stripped-down interface, this was like playing an interactive novel, but it was a bit too easy. Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis (1992) proved more of a challenge, or maybe I just lost interest. I don't think I played any video games when travelling, but insane card game Fluxx (1997) and strategic board game RoboRally (1994) were memorable real-world alternatives.
2014 – Joe Dever's Lone Wolf gamebooks (1984–85)
I was delighted to find a retro gamebook among the dog-eared Danielle Steels and Millennium Bug survival manuals at a local used book shop at the end of 2013, and I played through half of the series over the next few months online at Project Aon and in the jungle when miraculously finding an incomplete set at a resort on Borneo. I lost my handwritten notes at some point, along with my enthusiasm to continue, since I would've had to start from the beginning again to get all my cumulative stat bonuses and special items. No, I couldn't have just guessed or cheated, what kind of scumbag are you?
2015 – Dizzy fan games (1992–2015)
The resourceful 8-bit egg is still going strong thanks to the efforts of passionate autistic fans at Yolkfolk.com, from the painstakingly traditional to the pathetically juvenile. Steve Rennie's lateral thinking challenges and Sonic Mania-style reimaginings of the classics were impressive, but Tom Ward's Knightmare Dizzy was the most fun. Finally bothering to learn how to use an Amiga emulator, I discovered some more new-old classics, though I mainly bashed blocks on MegaBall and Poing 5 (1997).Steam deckbuilding games hit the sweet spot of repetitive, satisfying, low-effort hand-eye activities that kept me slightly more active during audiobook sessions than I would be turning pages. This one was the best for its levity and complexity, though predecessors Star Realms (2014) and Ascension: Deckbuilding Game (2010) had more superficial longevity through stat-swapping expansions. After inheriting my first smartphone, Goat Simulator (2014) was a highly entertaining distraction for one weekend before I unlocked everything and the novelty wore off.
After starting over countless times and trying to explore the full range of characters, paths and options packed into this TARDIS-style gamebook, I did cheat a little bit when I could tell I was right at the end and backtracked from death a couple of times just to finish the bastard. I never did end up flying that shuttle or visiting half of the places on the map, how does he fit it all in? Black Mirror's 'Bandersnatch' (2018) should have been an easy victory for the year's best game, but aside from a nice meta angle on free will, it didn't take interactive television much beyond where Star Trek: Borg (1996) was 20 years ago. Sonic Mania (2017) was fun, but see previous point.
2020 – Ascension: Storm of Souls & Immortal Heroes (2011–12)
I didn't play any digital games this year, going back to boards, cards and variably extravagant counters to pick up where I left off with Atmosfear in the '90s. This mainly involved investing in familiar deckbuilding card games in much more limited form than I'm used to playing them on the computer for free, because there's rent to pay and only so much shelf space. Ascension put in the most effort to justify the upgrade (though I might be easily swayed by oversized boxes and plastic treasure), and I bought enough Star Realms (2014–15) to accommodate several players (who might be out there somewhere), but budget-friendly one-box wonder Cthulhu Realms (2015) is still probably the best.
This multiplayer multiple-choice medieval jigsaw soon proved itself a worthy addition to the family board game canon, with plenty of ridiculous expansions for custom levelling up. Splendor (2014) proved similarly satisfying in its strategic tedium to the slightly older Backgammon (~3000 BC), Back to the Future: The Card Game (2010) was a smart if clinical re-themed tie-in, expanding Star Realms based on arbitrary discounts (2014–21) gave me the belated juvenile joy of trading card collecting without the risk, and a 1000-piece Garden of Earthly Delights jigsaw (2019) satisfied a long-term craving.
- My Little Pony: Tails of Equestria – The Storytelling Game (2016–21) *****
- Rhino Hero: Super Battle (2017) ****
- Cartograph (2022) ****
- Forbidden Island (2010) ****
Best Game of 1985–2024:
Sonic 3 & Knuckles (1994)
Scrabble's the best board game, Ascension's the best card game, Lone Wolf's the best gamebook series. I'm not a huge gamer, if you can't tell.
~ Best Gigs, When I Went to Any ~
We caught Paul & Barry's tour when holidaying in the kidtastic town, presumably by happy accident rather than design. The only bits I remember are a contrived situation where Barry was poking a cucumber through a suggestively-positioned hole in a barrel for a corpsing Paul to chop off and Paul splatting my brother in the face with custard pie foam, which he wore proudly until the interval when our mum made him wash it off, spoilsport.
I never cared all that much about seeing bands. My first year of minimalist gig going was bookended by formative favourites The Offspring in a massive Manchester arena in January and electro weirdo Mortiis in a small Manchester pub in December, close enough to see his mask incrementally peeling.
Respective support acts AFI and Pro-jekt were arguably better than the headliners.
Respective support acts AFI and Pro-jekt were arguably better than the headliners.
My first pilgrimage to the Edinburgh Fringe was motivated by seeing Richard Herring's Twelve Tasks of Hercules Terrace, but former double act partner Stewart Lee ended up winning this round. nobleandsilver's Man was the first Fringe show I saw, and I didn't need hindsight to know that it wasn't the smoothest gateway I could have chosen. Simon Munnery and Daniel Kitson were great, but if I was too young and inexperienced to get the most out of them.
A brief and less meticulously planned trip up to Edinburgh meant I didn't get around to seeing anyone who wasn't Lee or Herring, but they were both reliably excellent. Lee's Jesus routine alone effortlessly beat Herring's Someone Likes Yoghurt assortment, but I still went back for a second late-night helping of Just the Yoghurt, nyum nyum nyum. Dragonforce was a decent music gig, but I was mainly there for Edguy, who it turns out had become rubbish.
Moving to Edinburgh shortly before the Fringe, I could take my time experiencing the best of the fest... but unemployment and dire financial straits meant I still crammed everything into the half-price preview days. As well as finally getting why Kitson's so revered, Richard Herring's midlife crisis beat Stewart Lee's postpartum lightening up to start balancing the scales. Mark Watson, Josie Long and that student band playing Burzum songs in a Lancaster pub were good too.
2008 – Richard Herring, The Headmaster's Son, Edinburgh
Herring's touching childhood story (not in that way) beat Stewart Lee's Scrambled Egg TV try-out workshop, but that had its moments, and not only for getting to hear him say "egg." Dean Haglund's X-Files Improv was mainly stock Whose Line Is It Anyway antics, but you got what you came for. Seeing novelty pirate metal band Alestorm was a bit unconventional by this point, but I was mainly there for Týr. SSPIA's sceptical investigation was the only event at Mary King's Ghost Fest I attended, because I was in it.
2009 – The Return of Nine Lessons and Carols for Godless People, London
This sci-comedy variety performance brought together all the sorts of people I was into at the time, from Lee and/or Herring through Robin Ince and the pop scientists to Alan Moore. It was worth the trip down to London. Up in Edinburgh, Lee and Herring were both on career-best form with If You Prefer a Milder Comedian, Please Ask for One and Hitler Moustache respectively. Kitson, Jerry Sadowitz and improv troupe Dead Man in a Box were good too.
It was nice of Stewart Lee to arrange a bash for my farewell Fringe. His Vegetable Stew TV workshop was funny too, if less memorable than the first one. Finally getting to see Richard Herring's Christ on a Bike: The Second Coming after listening to a bootleg for years and seeing Lee and Herring stalwart Kevin Eldon's stand-up debut were more treats I didn't deserve, and helped me to convince myself that I was ready to move on from this chapter of life.
Best Gig of 1985–2021:
Stewart Lee, Stand-Up Comedian (2004)
His shows were consistently excellent, and the Princess Diana finale in this one was arguably bettered by the following year's Jesus finale, but this was the first one I saw, an excited child plonking himself in the front row and getting interrogated about his death metal shirt.
Aimee
Now do yours.
