ARRR! A Yo-Ho-Ho and Jim’s Pirates of the Caribbean Marathon! - Part One

I’m not a violent man, being more inclined to harm myself a million times over before lashing out at the world around me, but the thought of sitting through these five dreaded symbols of modern Hollywood’s excess and tedium truly did make me want to break things.

And yet here we are.

In truth, I’ve never actually watched one of Gore Verbinski’s saga of swashbuckling daring-do. Well, I did once try to sit down to the first one, but, upon realising it was going to be a drippy romance featuring the two dullest actors cinema has ever managed to dredge up, Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley, I turned it off immediately. I’d actually felt conned, in a “bait and switch” sort of way, having been promised a light-hearted adventure centred around the charming Johnny Depp. But, instead, I appeared to be threatened with the torture of seemingly-endless scenes of pouting and bosom heaving from Bloom and Knightley.

So, for reasons that escape me, perhaps just journalistic curiosity or utter self-loathing, I thought I’d finally actually sit down and try the series out, so I can at least say that they’re bad and mean it. Or I could end up being completely blown away by them and rally against every single professional critic the world over in support of the films. I mean, they’ve made five of them, so there must surely be something audiences are enjoying, right?!

As has become the way with my marathon posts, this will be a “live” document, where I shall not be going back during the editing process to update my expectations and opinions, whether they change or not. Who knows what impaired mental state I will be in by the end of today, but hopefully it shall reflect in the telling.

Sigh, I can’t believe I’m about to say this…

Let us hoist anchor and set sail for adventure!

Or, most likely, boredom.

THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL

“I practice with them three hours a day!”

“You need to find yourself a girl, mate.”

And to think I was all prepared to hate. I can’t remember the moment I shut this film off on my first viewing many cursed moons ago, but that feeling didn’t return today. As it turns out, the much-feared scenes of romance between Bloom and Knightley are very, very, very wisely trimmed down to the bare minimum. I assume the editor of this motion picture is a very smart individual indeed. Depp plays a bigger part than I had initially suspected, and Geoffrey Rush proves that any film is elevated by his joyful presence. Except for Frida. That film is just the fucking worst. This film’s score, not composed by, but bafflingly “produced” by, Hans Zimmer, reminded me of one of his insipid 90s action nightmares. You know, back when he was shit. I’m not joking, 30-years-ago you could check to see if Hans Zimmer had done the music for a film and you’d know to avoid it. Sorry, Hans, but it’s the truth. These days I believe he wins Oscars and whathaveyou. Beside being pummelled by the real composer’s Zimmer-esque score, Verbinski’s directing of the visuals is pretty flat, with the cinematographer trying their darnedest to compensate by adding shafts of light and glittering gold. However, the contemporary overuse of digital colour grading often flattens the images out even more, to where you feel like you’re developing cataracts. The minor plot twists and turns are more convoluted than interesting. I just stopped caring for what was going on, eventually. At a certain point, Depp and Rush have a sword fight, knowing full well that neither man can be killed. So why should we care?! They actually point this out in the dialogue, but that doesn’t forgive it. Besides our cackling pirate leads and wet love interests, the film is populated by RADA’s entire crew of finest d-stock nobodies. And Jonathan Pryce, who rallies amazingly with his natural adorability. It sadly turns out that Bloom and Knightley are, indeed, just awful, and I genuinely winced anytime one of the pair opened their gobs. But what is one expected to do? Taking all the negative points above into consideration, I still somehow managed to enjoy my 2 hours and 23 minutes watching Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. In fact, once the credits and sequel-bait had ended, I strangely found myself looking forward to reaching for the second disc. And so we bravely face the rapids of…

DEAD MAN’S CHEST

“Did we kill it?”

“No, we just made it angry!”

This one nearly broke me. So soon out of the starting gate too! I even went so far as to get up and leave the room to start making my lunch, planning never to return. Well, maybe just to switch the necessary electrical appliances off. But that’s it. What can a rational person surely say after watching a film without a plot?! I’m actually asking. Instead of a central narrative guiding light, we merely have a series of events, barely strung together by a notion. Dead Man’s Chest feels like a comma in the series, rather than a proper entry. A side quest or appendix, you might say. Let it forever be remembered that the greatest folly of mankind, besides the abandonment of hunting and gathering, genocidal religious persecution, and the invention of the open plan office, was to disguise Bill Nighy in computer-generated prosthetics. Oh how much more fun the film would have been with that lovely face of his smiling at us for 2 hours and 31 agonising minutes. This first sequel looks better, at the very least. There’s more depth to the cinematography and it feels like a lived-in world, rather than an awkward children’s pageant. I’m guessing Mr Verbinski had no great artistic desire to adapt a theme park ride into a movie back in 2003, thus becoming Disney’s director-for-hire. But, following the success of The Curse of the Black Pearl, the budget went up and so did Verbinski’s interest. And so did the stupid. Everyone returns to race about on the high seas to save Keira Knightley, for some unknown reason. I can’t think of a single one, personally. All the events end up revolving around a squid-faced monster-man-thing-whatever who wants his heart back. I think. Perhaps they explained why Nighy looks the way he does at some point, but I clearly wasn’t listening nor cared to. I oddly remembered the most about this instalment, so I’m gonna go ahead and assume it was on TV throughout the decades and I left it on in the background while doing something more mentally nourishing. The ridiculously-long sword fight between three characters then two characters then whoever has no doubt gone down in cultural history as a low point in cinema. I know nothing about the theme park ride, so maybe two animatronic pirates ride a waterwheel somewhere amongst it all, but such a physics-defying image certainly doesn’t work here. The kraken turns up. Goodness knows why. Geoffrey Rush comes back from the dead. Goodness knows why. Johnathan Pryce bothers to show up for a few pointless scenes amongst all the other pointless scenes. Goodness knows why. But it all looks great and Hans Zimmer is officially the composer of the score now, which means there’s more oomf but less charm. Maybe watch this one in half-hour shifts, as if it were a miniseries. Your time is not worth sacrificing to sit through the whole thing in one sitting. Trust me on this.

AT WORLD’S END

“Nobody move! I dropped me brain.”

After a grimly macabre opening, which I quite appreciated, this third piece of evidence in the Pirates of the Caribbean trial then moves onto a Mission: Impossible-style caper, swings by The Matrix, veers off into Lord of the Rings territory, then parks up next to Once Upon a Time in the West. Go figure. While having even less of a plot than the previous instalment, At World’s End manages to be far more engrossing and, dare I say it, fun. For a time. It is often a unique study in what happens after the damsel in distress is rescued, when she and her smug saviour have to now try and get along. In three words, they do not. Then there’s something about going to an alternate dimension to rescue Johnny Depp. Then a cabal of international pirates get together to try and fight Tom Hollander because he’s evil.  Or something. Then a woman grows to be the size of a ship’s mast and explodes into a thousand small objects. I just… I just… I just don’t know! The characters engage in many formal meetings, as if trying themselves to work out what the hell is going on in the story. Scenes just keep taking place without any impetus or meaning. At one point I cried: “What the bloody hell is going on?!” and “Just finish!”. It’s almost like the film is too scared to end. Was it meant to be the grand finale of a trilogy?! The villain has an unnecessarily elaborate death scene, so I assume he and the director are close friends. Bloom and Knightley, who’s involvement in the series should have ended two films ago, have an emotional goodbye for some reason. Again, I have no idea why. I’m guessing there was a towering stack of notes from studio executives and principal actors that the four credited writers had to consolidate into one document. A single talented writer could have made sense of it all. So, yes, stuff is happening on screen and none of it makes any sense. It’s a fascinating exercise in how not to write a movie. But, again, I was bizarrely engaged with the odd flash of colour amidst all the chaos and tedium. Geoffrey Rush is an absolute delight as always, and clearly relishes his pirate character. Depp sadly appears to be on autopilot. Bloom and Knightley are as ghastly as they are in everything. We don’t get a humanised Bill Nighy, sadly, although we do get a genuinely touching speech from Pryce lamenting how we waste our lives concerned with petty nonsense. Good for him, at least Jonathan gets to sail away with some dignity. Keith Richards’ cameo is cute. Oh and Chow Yun Fat is in there, who’s advances Knightley’s character fights off. I don’t know how she manages it, as my knickers would come flying straight off! But, apart from these minor diversions, I cannot truly describe in words how nonsensical this movie is. You really do need to experience it for yourself. Humans made this. Adult humans. Can you believe it?!

Right, that’s it for one day, folks. I simply cannot physically and mentally continue. I shall face the final two films tomorrow instead, as I genuinely fear my opinion will be negatively influenced by the cognitive meltdown I am currently having.

I was going to cheat and pretend I’d done it all in one day, but I think you poor bastards have enough to read as it is.

To be continued…

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

If you’re ever feeling down…

Usually the YouTube sub-genre of talented kids being annoyingly talented makes me want to break things, which is not a trait I’m particularly proud of, but this girl rocking out on her Epiphone Casino makes a rare exception. I mean, she’s just having so much fun! Plus, the fact that her guitar is almost as big as she is makes for extra amusement/cuteness.

Wish I looked that cool when I played.

She’s also motivating me to pick up the guitar myself again, which I’ve not felt inspired to do for awhile. I do strum an acoustic every now and then, but very halfheartedly. I’m not sure what’s going on there, but I’m not happy about it.

I may even have a tinker with my own Casino later on today, which is a worn (which basically means there’s little to no gloss on it) black model, but I like the tone of it so much that I’d be tempted to upgrade to a “proper” premium model.

So, yeah, if you’re ever feeling down or just generally annoyed at the world, stick on this video and think to yourself: “Well, at least that little girl is out there somewhere rocking away on her guitar”.

Then everything will be alright.

I promise.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The Whittling Post Digest - Issue 16

Ah Mondays, where fresh-faced souls, reinvigorated by a hearty weekend break, head out into the sun to take on a whole new set of challenges and mingle amongst their fellow citizens! Bollocks, right?! Well, at least it’s not fucking raining here in South Yorkshire. In fact, it’s downright warm. I’ve actually inverted my sleep pattern so as to avoid the agonising daylight I get here on the top floor of my block of flats. I’m pretty sure it’s different from your sun. It’s also nice and quiet when you wake up at midnight, so it kinda feels like I have the entire estate to myself. No boy racers revving, no kids screaming, no adults screaming, no dogs barking. Just one fat nerd and his man-cave.

So, what’s been going on within all this darkness? Quite a few things, but my motivation to write any of it down has been lower than it could possibly be. That’s nothing personal, of course, it’s just my brain decided it’d had enough of doing anything productive for the best part of a week. But, here I am, hitting keys and hoping something will come out of it.

Let us explore the power of words together!

NEON GENESIS EVANGELION

As with most anime, UK distribution of Evangelion has been sketchy since the demise of VHS. I will never understand why it was easier to produce those giant, fiddly blocks of plastic than simple discs of data, but apparently it was. The odd Evangelion movie would float about in shops, but it wasn’t terribly clear to me where they stood within the franchise. Anime franchises aren’t simple, after all, as they can and do span multiple films, series, OAVs, video games, novels, their original manga, and improvised street theatre. Then, a few weeks ago, I subscribed to a well-known streaming service for a month, and there was Neon Genesis Evangelion, just sitting there, daring me to look at it. “Are you the first incarnation?!” I wondered, “Or are you a remake/reboot/prequel/inspired-by load of bollocks?”. As it turned out, it was the original, which was a surprise, as I mistakingly thought said streaming service only hosted newer productions. So, yes, over the weekend I’ve been watching the original 1995-96 Evangelion, and I am completely 100% organic made-in-England no added sugar swept away! And I have no idea why. On the surface, there isn’t much else to this show that other mecha anime, such as Gundam and Patlabor, have. It’s big robots fighting, while humans argue below. But it’s clear that the mecha fights were the last thing on the minds of the producers, who knew to keep such moments reduced down to intense skirmishes, rather than gratuitous battles. I’m on Episode 7 now, but I still have no idea what the “angels” attacking our human heroes are. Are they extra terrestrials? An enemy nation? Terrorists? Rogue AI? I do not know. Yet not knowing, whether their origin has actually been mentioned or not, doesn’t seem to matter. Instead, I’m being drawn in by the strange cosiness of the show’s tone. It’s nice. You could almost call it “a soap opera that just happens to have giant robots fighting every now and then”. And so I will! I actually care what happens to the handful of maudlin main characters, not their mecha overlords. I’m riveted by the humans’ thoughts and feelings and interactions and awkward silences. The sparse-nature of the robot skirmishes helps to heighten their importance, which has the knock-on effect of increasing my interest in them. A controversial opinion, perhaps, but I just find giant robots and kaiju boring as hell. With Evangelion, however, I don’t get up and go put on the kettle when the walking superstructures start appearing out of Tokyo-3. Amazing! In fact, I’m enjoying it all so much that I’ve bought the recent physical boxset, which includes (along with the original series) what appear to be nebulous re-edited film summaries and remakes. I’ve also bought the ANIMA series of audiobooks, which I think I will now save until I’ve finished the original 26 episodes, as I believe it’s a sequel storyline. Although the word “alternate timeline” has come up in my research, so it might be safe to audioread them without fear of being spoiled. Hmm, if this paragraph goes on any longer, I may turn it into a full review, but I think I’m pretty much done here. Let me know if you’re an Evangelion fan too and which character you cosplay as. Or LARP as. I’m not sure which is politically correct anymore. So yeah. Onwards!

ALIEN: ROMULUS

While I do own Alien Covenant somewhere on disc, I have no plans to watch it. Yes, Prometheus pissed me off me that much. But, with a new director and a promise of actually being faithful to the world of the original trilogy (I count Resurrection as a spinoff), I decided to brave last year’s Romulus. And I’m now stuck halfway through. It feels like enough has happened to just call it a day. I really can’t take anymore running around in the dark that my poor eyesight is unable to discern anyway. I get it, there’s an alien on a space station with an evil robot and an evil corporation and a female protagonist and cow prods and flamethrowers and blah blah blah. Can’t we just have a film set in this wonderful fictional universe without having to repeat stuff we’ve seen before?! An open world video game set in the Alien universe would make my dar. My life, even. Some of the music cues in Romulus are unique and interesting. The annoying cockneys are at least real cockneys and not transatlantic “mockneys”. I think the filmmaking is good, but I can’t really see any of it to say for sure. The CGI clashes with the retro look, which takes me out of things regularly. I dunno, I do want to watch the second half but, urgh, do I really have to mummy?! Please let me know if it’s worth it, dear readers.

BABYLON 5

I’ve had the complete Babylon 5 franchise boxset collecting dust on a shelf for about a decade now. Every other month I ask myself: “So, Jim, are you going to finally tackle Babylon 5 this week?!”. Well, I think now is the time. I’ve dug it out of my boxset mountain, blown off the dust, and checked a story chronology online (so I know where to kick things off), therefore I will be watching the movie The Beginning very soon. Actually, I’ve already watched it, but I want to watch it again for clarity, as there’s a lot of world building in it that flew over my head on the first viewing. So, yeah, I’ll get to the main series eventually, which I only watched an episode or two of back when I was a wee teenager, so there’l be plenty to discover. Will I become engrossed in the epic space drama, or will I just be annoyed that it feels like a low-rent Star Trek?! We shall see…

JOHN WATERS

As I similarly discussed above regarding anime, the films of John Waters have been poorly, if not at all, distributed in the UK over the years. I’ve seen Serial Mom, but that’s about it. No, that is it. I’ve seen (heard, really) Waters’ guest appearance on The Simpsons, I’ve watched the documentary I Am Divine multiple times, and yet I’ve never seen the legendary Pink Flamingos. Then, during my annual check to see if his films have started being released over here, there they were! Three John Waters films released in the UK on Blu-ray by Criterion! And I now own them. I did try to watch one, but found I was totally in the wrong mood for it, and you do need to be in the right mood for John Waters. But at some point this week or next week or the week after, I shall indeed be sitting down to Multiple Maniacs, Female Trouble, and, yes, Pink Flamingos. I’m tempted to make it a full-day marathon, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to cope. I shall meditate on the matter with Yoda at the Jedi Temple. 

ARTHUR AND THE INVISIBLES

Actually, the 3-film boxset of Arthur films. At least, I believe there are only three. Erm, I hope there are only three. I won’t say much here, as I do wish to crank out a full review, but I’ve watched the first of Luc Besson’s Arthur trilogy. But, like Babylon 5: The Beginning, I feel the need to watch it again, now that a few things about the mysterious (to me) film series have become apparent. My feelings are mixed to positive. There is some confusion in there. Some joy. Some boredom. But mostly, erm, mixed to positive. Perhaps just mixed. Coming soon, basically.

DISENCHANTMENT

I will go to my grave not being able to understand why I can’t focus on Disenchantment. Technically, it has everything in the right place: it’s a Matt Groening show, it’s set in a fantasy universe, it’s a dark comedy, it’s well made, the voice acting is great, the jokes are funny. But, alas, I just can’t seem to get into it. I can’t even remember its title. I regularly have to look it up to remind myself. That can’t be a good sign, surely! People can’t even remember the name of your damn show. But I don’t hate Disenchantment. In fact, I sort of like it. I even want to like it more. But there’s something about it, similar to the way I feel about Guillermo Del Toro movies, that is fundamentally missing and fails to capture my heart. If you have the answer, please furnish me with it. I’ve just restarted watching it for the second time, getting further with it than before. You know, beyond the second episode. All I can say is, thank goodness for John DiMaggio! The show seems to be upping his character’s involvement, which it really, really needs. His medieval fantasy king talking with what I assume is a New Jersey accent is just a constant joy. There’s also Maurice LaMarche in there too, who I always cheer “Yay! Maurice!” for any and every time I hear him in anything. He genuinely seems like a sweet guy in real life too. Oh and the great and truly potty Tress MacNeille is also present. I can only hope something will click with this show eventually, as I really want to love it as much as I love The (Early) Simpsons and Futurama. Don’t let me down, universe!

MUSIC

I’m what you might call “in between genres” right now, which is somewhat frustrating. When this happens, I usually turn to instrumental stuff, so I’ve been hitting Tangerine Dream and Jean-Michel Jarre and Miles Davis pretty hard this week. I really should expand my field of listening, but I’m not feeling particularly adventurous right now. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for by including this little stream-of-conscious rant, but hey-ho. If there’s anything you can recommend that has the chance of keeping me busy and off the street, then do say hello.

HARRY CALAHAN

My review of Dirty Harry has bizarrely attracted 163 views so far, which is pretty damn crazy. It’s never the reviews you think! I did begin watching Magnum Force, but found I simply wasn’t in the mood. I will hopefully make a return and satisfy whoever the hell is so interested in my thoughts on the first one, but it doesn’t feel like it’ll be soon. I really need to be in the correct mindset to watch a film, and sleazy 70s cop thrillers just ain’t where I’m at right now, punk.

Well, I’d say that’s all for now, kittens. I’m still watching a lot of classic Joel-era MST3K, listening to that pre-history podcast, and generally trying to stay off the booze. My birthday’s coming up, which I was considering having a drink for, but I’m scared I’ll fall off the wagon permanently. And I’ve been doing so well! I guess I’ll see how I feel closer to the time. For now, I shall leave you to the springtime and whatever else is going on in the world. I have almost completely cut myself off from it, much to the relief of my stress levels, so I dearly hope all is well.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Time is Not Yours EP

Hmm, what does one say about the world on a dreary Bank Holiday Sunday evening after getting up at 6 pm?! I guess we’ll just have to see. But, here I am, suffering something of a low-mood attack and considering falling off the sobriety wagon. Nothing’s happened in my life to cause these feelings, mind you. Quite the opposite. In fact, it’s been quiet as a mouse this past week. That, however, is not enough to stem the tide of mental illness, so I find myself scurrying to put up my emotional fortifications and find something to distract my descent into existential turmoil.

“Hey, Jim, why don’t you review that new Say Sue Me release?!”, came a quiet voice form inside.

“Nah, I don’t feel like writing today. Or any day, for that matter!” I said, in an show of self-pitying defiance.

“Well, just start writing about yourself and how you’re feeling, then see where you go from there, huh?” Said the voice again, before scurrying away to form more things for me to worry unnecessarily about.

And that’s where you now find me.

During a voyage of intentional musical discovery, I was looking around the streaming service of my choice for unfamiliar indie bands from around the world. Since the rise of angry arm chair politics on social media over the past decade, I’ve found myself utterly sick of hearing the English language. I now only physically leave my home once a month to pick up medication; I don’t watch television; and the only films or television shows I do watch are generally from the pre-2010s. My only allowances are a YouTube channel and a couple of podcasts.

There.

My appreciation of music has very much hit same issue. I struggle to listen to all the stuff I’ve been into over the past 20 years of my rock education, sticking mainly to Dutch power-pop, instrumental jazz, noise rock, or traditional music. And East Asian indie. I can’t remember now whether I discovered Say Sue Me through a such-themed playlist or a dream pop (nee shoegazing) playlist, but they grabbed me straight away.

The East Asians, and I type this paragraph while desperately trying not to put my politically correct foot in it, seem very skilled at taking elements of western culture and just making them better. Their songwriting is tighter, their playing has more depth, their recording has greater ingenuity, and dammit if they don’t work their arses off! Western rock bands moodily eek out maybe a couple of albums a decade, at most, while I’m now discovering the Asians usually crank out masterpiece after masterpiece once a year or so.

Well, some of their bands do, as the South Korean subject of this post takes a little more time and seems to have the western “one album every 4 years” approach.

So, yes, Say Sue Me has released three studio albums since 2014, along with a bunch of great singles and EPs that feature enough separate material to comfortably fill up a double album, with me coming across them just after their third album - the truly wonderful The Last Thing Left.

I’ve gone into this enough on previous posts, so I wont labour the point here, but 2022 was the year my best friend died, with Say Sue Me, along with The Vaccines, very much becoming the soundtrack to my grief. Not for any particular reason, of course, they were simple bands I had started listening to around that period. In fact, every time something new by Say Sue Me comes out, I think to myself: “Hey, I should really recommend this to my best fr… oh wait, I can’t”.

Then I get understandably upset.

In preparation for writing this post, I’ve been listening back to all of Say Sue Me’s previous releases, with The Last Thing Left assumedly being the most difficult listen. My neighbours will have hard me drunkenly singing out loud to the songs “Around You”, “No Real Place”, and “Photo of You” many times over the past three years, before ultimately descending into miserable sobbing. But it wasn’t an emotional chore listening back to The Last Thing Left, as there’s a reason why I fell in love with Say Sue Me in the first place.

Their songs are catchy, full of medley, and truly, truly miserable in the best sense of the word.

It’s indie music, basically.

So, here we are in 2025 and, to paraphrase the title of their first album, I’ve sobered up. I’m struggling a little with it this morning AKA evening, but I’m confident I won’t be hitting the bottle later on. And last week, Say Sue Me released this EP, which I’ve been slowly getting to grips with amid a torrent of other mental stuff, of which you have just had to patiently hear about.

The record opens with the title track, which is what EPs and singles are want to do, that finds us in familiar musical territory. There are definitely flashes of the band’s “Old Town” in the rhythm section, almost to a frown-inducing extreme. But now there’s a layer of fuzz in the guitars and, during the bridge, an interesting touch of very mild chorus effect over the vocals. “Time is Not Yours” isn’t the EPs standout track, but it does settle you in nicely to the band’s signature sound. What with their 50s surf vibe, intensive touring of America, and handful of Christmas songs (???), these South Koreans really are keen to break the west and remind a potentially new audience who they are, and this track does it perfectly.

“Vacation” begins almost like it’s going to be an epic ballad, but soon we hear mischievous Oasis bends on the guitars and a wonderfully expressive and rubbery bass part Then, after a minor preamble, the song escalates into a grand party-song-for-people-who-don’t-like-parties. You know, for those who’s idea of a party is an afternoon in the pub followed by staggering home to watch bad movies with a case of shitty lager. Yes, the very heart of Britpop, essentially. “Vacation” is big and dumb and fun and truly worthy of singing along to at a rowdy music festival.

By now, we’ve started to notice something new. A fattening of the band’s sound. Our lead singer and her lead guitarist usually play single-coil Fender instruments, a Stratocaster and Jazzmaster, respectively, but now it sounds like they’ve “gone Gibson”. I have seen live footage where the singer is playing an SG, but now they seem to very much be committing to that larger sound.

And so we get “In this Mess”, echoing “Ghosts of a Different Dream” by Guided by Voices, who Say Sue Me have recently paid tribute to with a cover of “Smothered in Hugs” on their odd 2022 anniversary release titled 10, which is seemingly a compilation of studio offcuts or something. I’m really not sure, but it’s worth a listen! “In this Mess” is a classic example of a Say Sue Me rhythm-dominated jam, where the vocals were probably cobbled together right at the end of recording. We also get some liberal use of a wah pedal, which I don’t believe we’ve heard much of on previous releases. Again, this track has a much bigger sound than we’re used to. The jangle of the band’s first three albums is starting to be replaced by something much darker.

And I love it.

With “Mexico”, we get a hypnotic instrumental, which includes hints of My Bloody Valentine slow-tremolo work, rather than cheeky Oasis bends. It features another driving rhythm section, which, to be honest, Say Sue Me doesn’t know how not to do. If I had the eyesight to drive, this would be perfect music to listen to whilst speeding down a lamplit motorway at two in the morning, just before I pull off into a service station for a coffee and Danish pastry. Who knows, perhaps it’s the opening song to their current live shows, which would not surprise me in the least.

And so we end on “Bone Pink”, an upbeat acoustic ditty that swings us back around to the start. It’s solid Say Sue Me fair, designed to be strummed on a Busan beach (unless it’s a landlocked city, of course) over a long weekend. We’re back to minimal effects, the surf vibrato or tremolo or chorus (I’m never sure of the difference) is upped, and the singer gives us sombre lyrics about going slow and not going far.

Or something.

It doesn’t get much simpler than that, with “Bone Pink” being the perfect way to end things.

There we go. Apart from my narcissistic preamble, Time is Not Yours is a joyful return from a band that can only keep getting bigger and more interesting. While my mobility is now low enough that I’d be reluctant to venture out and experience Say Sue Me live, I would certainly consider it if they visited the North of England. If this is a hint at a forthcoming new album, and EPs usually are, then I’ll be first in line at the hipster vinyl record shop ready to barter an organic turnip for my copy.

Erm, I’m not sure if that worked, but I’m leaving it in anyway.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!