Saturday, 21 February 2026

UndergRound Up of the Year, Part 2....


It sure does, or it does its best when times are hard and the chips are down and cold and soggy from life's piss and vinegar and.... (Can you tell this is just made up off the hoof, the Braw Book's farewell tour, the old bones picking through the (e)motions one last time?). Where these blogs used to be thorough they're now just tho rough (as Daffy Duck'd say!). Anyway, enough of that already and how about a bit more of this....


The ever-busy USS ORB touched down on earth in 2025 with the release of Buddhist Hipsters, their umpteenth album, and a definite continuation of the Good Doctor's elder statesman prolific ambient flourish. Ignoring the terrible cover, it's actually not too bad an album. There's no doubt current whizzkid Michael Rendall's bag of aural tricks is beginning to show its limitations, the formula going a little stale - here's the same soaring synth arpeggios, the same fuzzed ambient at play throughout. But with an array of new/old collaborators - hello, Steve Hillage's stuttering guitar intro, goodbye, Roger Eno's ivory tinkling outro - it's a consistent and pleasing listen overall, a lesser photocopy that could simply be a mash of their recent glories. It's certainly not, as DRAP's press release tells us (in the hope we pay up/attention), anything remotely like the glorious UFOrb, but it's still a record Agent Rob'd happily sit through in its entirety. That's ambientertainment for yer....

The Orb - Doll's House

"My mind is strong and healthy.
I will not permit my mind to dwell on any thought or any thing that is not harmonious.
My mind is filled with love, joy, peace...."


Shame on Rob, but, yes, last year was truly the year of exploring the Eno, geez, a man whose delicate but colossal fingerprints are all over just about every album in this Agent's collection. Stick the ageing iPod on shuffle and you think, 'Hey, It's Boards of Canada or is it FSOL or maybe SOTL....' but, no, it's all Brian Eno, all of it, always, the absolute aural GrandDNAddy of them all! Music. For. Everything! I rest my case, m'lud....

Brian Eno - An Ending (Ascent)


Funnily enough Brian Eno also lends his light-fingered production touch to both Laid and its more experimental sister album WAH WAH by James, Rob finally getting around to exploring this old but intriguing suburb of MADchester, before taking the subway even deeper underground to check out fellow (gone) natives New Fast Automatic Daffodils cult album obscurio Pigeonhole, a sort of stuttered, groovy, snapping undercurrent to Happy Mondays rougher and readier chart take....
 

Other than that, precious 2025 eartime was devoted to the likes of The Heads fuzzed off Dead In The Water, Flying Saucer Attack's shoegaze into the Distance, the forlorn acid-tinged strum Michael Head & The Strands, Killing Joke's deeply, darkly (un)funny Killing Joke, the supreme alt-slices of Deerhunter's Halcyon Digest, The Blue Nile's quietly beautiful and haunting Hats, the heart on yer sleeve indie of Jact's Jact - from former Pusherman singer Andy "Nice nice nice L.A., smack, crack, never coming back unless it's with the tormentos" Frank - to Mogwai's pulsing soundtrack to Zero Zero Zero....


Retro-wise there was the spiritual leaning soundtracks to Nosferatu and Aguirre The Wrath of God from mood masters Popol Vuh, the spritely twang of  Dillard & Clark's The Fantastic Expedition, Bruce Springsteen's stark and dusty The Ghost of Tom Joad, the soaring supergrouping of Manassas, to the jaw dropping, free forming, locked damn tight incomparable kosmische experimental grooves of CAN's Ege Bamyasi, Future Days and Flow Motion.... 


And ambi-techno side there was a clutch of classic early-era Dreadzone remixes, the sprawling ambient flush of Eluvium's Copia and  Johann Johannsson's Fordlandia....

Boards of Canada - Reach For The Dead

....the retro futurism of Boards of Canada's shimmering Tomorrow's Harvest, the warm groove of Dusted's When We Were Young, and the sparse heart beatings of Seefeel's Pure, Impure....


If in 2024 it was the supervillain MF DOOM who provided hip hop's holy “quinity”, then 2025's buncha fives was easily down to the Wu-Tang Clan bringing tha ruckus with Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), Liquid Swords (Genius/GZA), Only Built 4 Cuban Linx (Raekwon), Return To The 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version (Ol' Dirty Bastard) and IronMan (Ghostface Killah)....


In fact, underground hip hop blew up big Braw-side in 2025, with quality booms and baps courtesy of The Goats' Tricks of the Shade, People Under The Stairs "O.S.T.", Edan's Beauty And The Beat, Masters Of Illusion and Deltron 3030, records worth a-deep a-diggin' through those, er, crates for....


Or what about a hefty puff of Cypress Hill's 'blunted beatz', which sure helped Rob inch over the finish line on those late winter Fridays, AKA 'The Suicide Watches', those harsh times when a silent slip into the Clyde's welcoming inky blackness under cover of darkness would go completely (and beautifully) unnoticed. Thankfully he always chose to inhale and float the other way....

Cypress Hill - Hits From The Bong


Rob also acquired two nice Polish pop albums in 2025, Patrick The Pan's To Nie Najlepszy Czas Dla Wrażliwych Ludzi (It's Not The Best Time For Sensitive People - no sh*t!) and (finally!) Mrozu's Zlote Bloki, home to the eternally brilliant and supremely catchy Zloto, the headliner of Braw's ever-expanding Polska Pop Picks playlist on Youtube. Bardzo Dobrze!


And, as inevitable as its coming around again, just like the turn of vinyl, Rob succumbed to the temptations of Record Store Day for a second time in 2025, tracking down a copy of Verve's Voyager 1 - thanks Assai Records! - a prized early live excursion that catches them at their soaring, roaring 'Mad Richard' best.

Verve - South Pacific

It's not like Rob didn't have a decent MP3 boot of the original boot, but, well, isn't this exactly what RSD's all about, selling the same old back to the same old (suckers for limited edition marbled splatter clear 180gram vinyl in a gatefold sleeve) at a vastly inflated price? At least this was a simple reproduction in itself, a carbon copy reissue, nothing more - just let the music do the talkin', man....


And, as per 2024, the CD has long gone the way of all things charity, fostering such diamond deals in the rough as Grateful Dead's eternal Live/Dead, the artful hip hop of Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp A Butterfly, the drowning wooze of SOTL's Ballasted Orchestra, the late Brian 'SOTL' McBride's similarly soothing When The Detail Lost its Freedom, a very neat double cd reissue of David Crosby's 70s bombed out solo benchmark If I Could Only Remember My Name....

SOTL - Music For Twin Peaks Episode #30, Part 1

....to the sonic big bang of The Best of Lou Reed & The Velvet Underground, the zoned distortion of Spacemen 3's equally-ish influential Sound of Confusion, the Syd Barrett wired pop surge of The Pink Floyd's Early Singles, to the hushed thoughtfulness of Kingsbury Manx's S/T, all wrapping up with three essential compilations courtesy of the Virgin Ambient Series - A Brief History of, Imaginary Landscapes and Music of Changes - each jam packed with prime special spatial cuts guaranteed to itch parts of your mind other records can barely scratch....


This year was also a bit quieter on Bandcamp, but still we had the propulsive techno drive of Evan Mark and Steve Hillage's Dreamtime Submersible, another gently captivating outing from Bee Pieces....


....the warm ambient crackle of 2814's magical Birth of a New Day, the cut up indie innervisions of The Microphone's the Glow pt. 2, the guitar crackle of Duster's Stratosphere and the hushed ambient flow of Hiroshi Yoshimura's Surround....


....and never forgetting to copy and paste the endless drone blanket of Scotland's own Fordell Research Unit, the rattling post-everything of Boobs of DOOM and even a new-ish album from Agent Rob's own musical (misad)venture in the push and pull guitar melding of The Mind Robbers, or how about an old-ish release from his other creative outlet, the classic shifting post-indie 'strumentals of Welcome Racers! by Telemachus....?


The biggest reunion of 2025? Well, it certainly wasn't OASIS - tho against all (Rob's) odds they did absolutely clear up in terms of rave reviews - because it was in fact The Beta Band, those shape and genre-shifting misfits fae Fife (who opted to return with a Guy Ritchie country gangsters look). Yep, if anyone truly sold out their comeback in 2025 it was them (it's just a shame that they actually sold out their comeback to soulless music industry obliterating scum like  Spotify and Ticketmaster, a verrrry far cry from their bloody-minded contrarian days of old - exactly the modern horrors you'd expect them to kick back against, not fully embrace....)

The Beta Band, 2025 - no style

The Beta Band, 1999 - inner meet me

So far so-so. The gig itself was more or less (more!) a rerun of their first time out (before their time out), nothing new at all, kicking off with a lazy ffwd big screen recap - if anyone ought to have the comedy chops to spoof the hoary old 'let's get the band back together' mantra it's The Betas, but evidently, scope and time aside, they just couldn't be arsed rustling up a 5 minute skit to bridge the gap, or anything better than the middling rehashed t-shirts on offer - a wonder bee stuttered across the big screen intro that would've been an ideal addition to their earlier EP tee-stylings. Equally dispiriting was that poor broken Gordon Anderson's projected cameo went unacknowledged while ex-Stone Rose Mani's* appearance on celluloid was greeted with whoops of applause....

I saw The Beta Band in 1998 and
all I got was this lousy t-shirt....

*This is absolutely no criticism of Mani himself, simply Rob's observation (of the audience) at that time, one that hasn't changed following Mani's untimely death....


But let's rewind a moment to Rob being near first in the door - thanks internet stage times fake news! - to join fellow fools in lucking out as KLF's Chill Out shimmered the Barrowlands in all its seismic entirety! What a treat, lapped up like that first glorious cold pint! Next up a chap in a ski mask (Steve Mason) took to the decks to air out his 2004 DJ set - only now folk can live Shazam his obscure cuts into playlists as they go along - before John Maclean took to the stage for, er, more of the same. (C'mon, The Aliens could've played for 40 minutes instead, made it a thrilling all-in....)

The Beta Band - Push It Out

For the actual gig the sound wasn't really the best (suited to their myriad sounds), a bit muddy in places, though the drums shone, and they're arguably they're not the finest of players - there's a definite appeal to The Betas rough and (not quite) ready lack of polish, all agreeably loose and shambling, but disarmingly charming with it. Early "hit" Dry The Rain was the obvious highlight, their best song inspiring a rousing crowd sing along. But unlike in 2004, the dance expanse of The House Song techno-ing us out just couldn't save Rob's evening - the curve's still catching up, no doubt about it, but this was a frozen reunion, a seen it all before experience (not that anyone's presently doing anything kinda remotely like it, eh?!)....


Kicking off a clutch of concerts in a week Rob caught another blinding Glasgow gig from Braw faves Rose City Band, again pushing the good shjip as far out as musically possible.... Those incredibly instrumental dynamics and tremendously tasty keyboards, mmm! How about docking again in, say, the next 10 months? Braw'll be there....


Speaking of instru'mental', next up it's was Mogwai's turn to hit the Barrowland Ballroom for 2 shows, Agent Rob bopping along to the second, eager to see the post-rock (behemoths in) action. Of course, 'God gets you back' just as the 'gwai said, the Saturday night prior's set being the stuff (Rob's) dreams are made of, Helicon 1, Fear Satan, Yes, I'm a long way from home (only the absence of Summer failed to make this an all you need quartet)....

Mogwai - Summer

....while on the Sunday, God's day of rest naturally, they opted to swap them out for the twin lumbering titans of Like Herod and My Father, My King, roof raising tracks for sure, quite at home in the live set(ting), but neither a match for Satan's grievous groove and thunderous drop... Maybe it's just age, but the once comforting leaden tub thump of post-rock drums and all consuming white noise is becoming something of a sticking point with Rob, the nail driven relentlessly home over and over to the point of weak aural submission....


And just perhaps the most understated of this seven day sonic trio, the duo of  EARTH, was also the best (playing to a pitiful room of 500 while Olly Murs packed out 14,000 at the Hydro). Dylan Carson - from chubby lumberjack, his eyes rolling back in his head like a shark when he riffed, to sweeping emaciated Lemmy to hip bespectacled JAWS shark fisherman extra in the space of 15 years - simply a master of his instrument, hucking his guitar about like a toy while wringing a variety of amazing sounds from it, always in control.

Grateful he's not Dead

A sheer joy to watch, Rob suppressing the urge to shout "You made it Dylan!" in celebration of this grunge survivor who's since forged his own unique path, this wonderful one-man-genre....


The Horrors brought their gloomy new album to the QMU in November, rattling through track after track. To look at them you'd expect an evening of static glum but this couldn't be farther from the truth - this is a band that gives it their energetic all, throwing themselves (literally) into the live experience. If only Rob could shake that nagging feeling that they're somehow underwhelming otherwise - the guitar just.... just seems to be missing, as if it's not quite there, not cranked up to full volume, rendering all that hugely impressive thrashing about somewhat redundant (when it should be exploding Nick McCabe style, shattering the chord cosmos). Maybe try 11 next time out, eh? Again, as with EARTH, Rob had to suppress the urge to shout "Agent Johnny lives!" when Sea Within A Sea concluded.... Now all we need is for them to join forces with fellow indie thrashers DIIV and hit the road. Now that would be some double header indeed....


Which brings us neatly to another double header, the first of The Orb's two 'joint' tours of 2025, Ozric Tentacles playing second fiddle - The Orb just sample them and have likely never seen one! - from about 7:30 till 9, coming across as especially enjoyable when they found that dubby groove, less so when they went that serious dnb-ish uptempo. Still, at least the Ozrics seem to have hung on to most of their original members while in The Orb's case it's their 1990's hard drive, as they graced the stage from 9:15 till 10:35, presumably playing about as long as their laptop batteries last....

The Orb - Arabebonics

As ever they were just alright, roadtesting a few new Buddhist tracks throughout, following a strong beginning with Earth (Gaia) and a kinda Perpetual Dawn/Towers of Dub mash up. It was all just a bit too much stop/start, tho it was hard to tell if it was tech glitches or deliberate on the players part and geez, Alex, let's turn that knob that makes the beat go tinny (again!).... Unfortunately just as Rob started to think 'this is actually gonna be ace!', they ditched the roomy groove and spacious dynamics and from a blundering Pulsating Brain onwards it was (for Rob) mindless 4/4 that honestly could have been absolutely anything. Mind, for taking a punt on a ticket the day before it was alright - not as good as 2024's QMU, tho that was also a bit 50/50 for much the same reasons, so....


The Orb round two saw Dreadzone tag along for the ride, the pair entertaining another room full of old bald blokes with glasses who should know better than to attempt to dance (oh, me hips!).... and that includes Alex Paterson. (Still, it was over by 10pm, so slippers, book and bedtime by 11 for all concerned.) Tho there was fat chance chance of dozing off at The Orb's early evening 4/4 thumpathon, as they aired 5 tracks from their new album, admittedly a recent set rarity as they tend to go for the nostalgia jugular - long since bled completely dry (in Rob's opinion) - every time....

Dreadzone - A Canterbury Tale

Headliners Dreadzone are more an actual performing 'band', reverting (understandably) to rousing dub bangers but (sadly) leaving little room for their inventive and beguiling ambience - far better would have been a halfway house (music) between the two acts, if they met in the middle and mainlined a chilled and balanced bliss....


It seems only fair to wrap up our wrap up by going round, round, round like this sensation I've found in my soul, and back to the beginning, signing music off with a look at The Charlatans long-awaited-ish and well-timed-ish new long player, We Are Love. Of course, through the different days between albums Tim Burgess has become very much a singular star in his own right, with books, solo albums, listening parties and all sorts keeping the bowl cut busy, so much so it's hard to shake the feeling this is one to another solo effort with the old band dusted off and tacked on.

The Charlatans - Deeper And Deeper

Certainly, the music and lyrics are much more grounded, the former not nearly as switched up as his stretching solo adventures - The Charlatans classic sound is there but pulled back, panned and spaced out - and the latter in keeping with the same. Tim's just more mired in the mundane now (watering plants and piling up dishes), a far far cry from the glory days when he was just lookin' and just thinkin' (and, honestly, we were all actually listenin'). Below is Rob's own cheeky We Are Redux, based loosely around the running order of debut Some Friendly, shuffling the 'singles' and the superflous (Salt Water) to 'side one' to make for a more balanced two sides to every album, keepin' it old skool as ever....


Oddly enough, and again thanks due to Assai Records, Agent Rob took himself off to an exclusive-ish album launch gig at Oran Mor that wasn't the track by track run-through he anticipated, rather a belting micro greatest hits that he'll now run down in numbers (cos he honestly can't think of anything better).  Looking 4ward to it. Band on at 8. Band off by 9(:10). Ticket a mere £10 (as part of cd bundle for £23). 12 track setlist.  15 years (since he last saw them, the late Jon Brookes being anything but Some Friendly to his kit). Album #8 (in the charts). Truth be told, it was an infinitely better evening with... than Rob expected - "30 of those gigs or 1 OASIS?" texted a pal. The band were surprisingly tight and groovy and, of course, how could they fail when rolling out ever(Sproston)green favourites like Then, Weirdo, Toothache(!) and Just When You're Thinkin' Things Over....



Heck, but Rob digs Joel Gion - why, turns out the pair of them love the Columbia b-side by OASIS!- the goofball glue that (mostly) holds The Brian Jonestown Massacre together, and in the excellent In The Jingle Jangle Jungle he hit home with his 'be yourself'' mantra, instigating a summer of Braw band t-shirts, fighting back against staid societal norms and the dead eyed acceptance of blanket brand/bland conformity (hello, The North Face, Represent and White Fox)....

Joel at the soda fountain

We all know John Miller flew his freak flag high - geez, it was staked right outside Ice Station Zebra! - while Agent Rob tends to keep his furled up deep under wraps, where it steadily eats away at him, forever the unassuming sap, this former/failed writer, scriptwriter, comedian, musician and comic artist who now works away weekly, meekly and weakly in a slow death office job with no one but himself to blame - you can hear precious life tick away with every click, every cough, every clack of keyboard....


Even more astounding was Daniel Rachel's enlightening Too Much Too Young, a fascinating insight into the birth and life of 2 Tone Records - Jerry Dammers, just wow! - which traces the span of The Specials and all those who gratefully swirled in their 2 Toned orbit. Even if Rob's not so hot on much of the music itself - tho he did manage a truly inspired vod-ska powered dance to Message To You Rudy at a wedding - this book is an absolutely essential read, one that delivers on so many levels....

The Specials - Ghost Town


Again in 2025 Rob's page count continued to drop, equal parts eyesight and exhaustion*, but that didn't stop him enjoying master fictioneer(?) William Boyd's The Predicament, another slender but slick thriller featuring his character Gabriel Dax....

*Much like this blog's word count! Perhaps Braw should adopt the Douglas Adams approach, just up the font every time, the bigger text keeping the books looking the same length on the shelf while disguising the paucity of ideas therein. Keen readers may find the fifth Hitchhiker's Guide** in the Large Print section of their local library....

**And Another Thing... It's very likely the sixth (Eoin Colfer) book is still to be found in Poundland.... that is, if you still have a Poundland....


....and Leonard Nimoy truly was! He invested himself so deeply in the character, and in the wider Star Trek universe to the benefit of all. It's doubtful that, had he not taken such a firm hand in steering the movie franchise, whether the show would be as well remembered and revered to this day. The ears have it indeed! True old school gent Roger Moore also gets 007 out of 007 for his excellent My Word Is My Bond autobiography - just don't ask what Tony Curtis thought of Joan Collins!


While not really being one for, well, "books on things" (he'd much rather just watch or listen to), Rob has to admit there's nothing really much better or more definitive than Howe, Stammers and Walker's Doctor Who trilogy of The Sixties, The Seventies and The Eighties (even if that last decade itself was a bit bleh)....


Indeed rounding it up to an essential quartet is Timeframe: The Illustrated History, a whizz through the decades in memorabilia, comics and, in the most "burned into the childhood mind's eye", the glorious covers of the Target novelisations that fuelled the formative frenzy....

Do judge a Judge by his cover!

Another year, another few Dudley Moore lps salvaged from the ever-expanding MISSING Records and a few more final facts about him gleaned from (mostly) depressing reading about Peter Cook. In 2025 it was all about (first wife) Wendy Cook in her (mostly) sixties swinging (until it was punches!) So Farewell Then, which absolutely puts Peter on the map as the 'Father of modern satire', a man firmly in the driving seat until his faithful passenger, the aforementioned Mr. Moore, eschewed the increasingly dangerous (and drunk) driving and bailed, pretty much taking the career map with him and leaving Cook all but directionless. Say no more! (Sorry, wrong scriptwriter)....

"In 1979 Peter had offered to tape a television programme that Christopher (Booker) was making for him. A few months later they both tried to find the relevant tape in Peter's collection: 'There were three or four hundred videos,' says Christopher. 'We watched blank screens. Buzz and crackles and nothing. We tried for about 40 minutes and found nothing. It was a very good image of what had happened to him."

From So Farewell Then, The untold life of Peter Cook by Wendy E. Cook


Oddly enough, 2025's life affirming quotes of choice came not from film or fiction - though there's a few nice one liners to be found from various sources much further down - but from The Great Movies by the late film critic and expert Roger Ebert....



Again, how could you choose?

"When has a film so subtly and yet so completely captured nostalgia for happiness? The movie is about the simplest of human pleasures: the desire to get away for a few days, to play instead of work, to breathe in the sea air, and maybe meet someone nice. It is about the hope that underlies all vacations and the sadness that ends them. And it is amused, too, that we go about our days so intently while the sea and the sky go about theirs."

"When you see anyone - an athlete, a musician, a dancer, a craftperson - doing something difficult and making it look easy and a joy, you feel enhanced. It is a victory for the human side, over the enemies of clumsiness, timidity, and exhaustion."


Ah, Eddie Campbell, delivering two superior slices of topsy turvy autiobio-comics in the playful shapes of The Fate of the Artist and The Second Fake Death of Eddie Campbell - even if his recent digital artwork is less satisfying than his bygone inky goodness, he's still able to successfully subvert the medium like no other and deliver the quite unique goods....







Other comics of note were smattered all across the medium, from 2000 AD's Rogue Trooper to Spumco's short-lived Comic Book, to Doom Patrol: Crawling From The Wreckage, to (various variable) Batman(s) - The Cult, Arkham Asylum, Death and the Maidens, Whatever Happened To The Caped Crusader? - via the Japanese twins(!) of Hell Baby and Hayao Miyazaki's masterful Shuna's Journey, landing in and around the simple pleasures of blink-and-you'll-miss-him Bill Watterson's near peerless Calvin and Hobbes (itself an influence on Braw's own Buckfast Lane, didntcha know, as Rob tried to inject effort and skill back into the increasingly lazy tropes of the generic copy and paste webcomic?)....



....while homegrown hero Frank Quitely contributed several suitably wild illustrations to Frankie Boyle & Charlie Skelton's irreverent but relevant A Short History of the Apocalypse and the late John Byrne shone ever on in a rather lovely charity copy of his splendid Tutti Frutti tie-in book....


The arrival of Jez Jerzy in Part 2 can only mean one thing, another trip to Poland, kicking off a strange summer mired in gloom.... Witness the kids' birthday party that had couldn't have had a more funereal atmosphere, parents huddled under sodden gazebos while the world threatened to end outside and in - huge US Airforce jets circling, air raid sirens doubling up for the Polish fire service (phhh!), whispered talk of strategic infrastructures and frank, fearful conversations, "Should I be afraid? Should I run?" as the dogs of world war continue their long, low howl, tugging at everyone's trouser leg.... 



Not that this cloud of disquiet took the sheen off everything, and there was much to enjoy in Bielsko-Biała's Studio Filmow Rysunkowch, a loving assembled museum paying homage to their ongoing contributions to the world of animation....






Indeed, akin to Dundee, the city is peppered with several statues on a trail celebrating the many wonderful characters - as writ large in many Polish childhoods as Dennis and Minnie are in Rob's - that form a proud part of its cartoon heritage....


Better still (if that's possible?), let's go back to the future via the astounding Atomium and the city of Brussels with its 80 or so murals of (Franco)-Belgian strips, Tintin thru Corto Maltese via Asterix The Gaul, The Smurfs and Lucky Luke, a simply breath-taking trail around this fabulous city (especially if accompanied by their nice A5 guide that doubles up as an informative mini encyclopedia of bande dessinee to boot!), while the many museums and superior shops are just mindblowing, displaying a diverse range of absolute masters of their art at work! Saving on words - honestly the preferred option from both sides of the Braw coin - here's 37,000 worth in pictures. Keep on scrollin'....











Hugo Pratt's Corto Maltese




















Michel Vaillant's racing car

Even the plethora of merchandise is tastefully done (in a let's not just slap a Bat-Symbol on any old piece of worthless crap and flog it on at inflated prices kinda way).... 

Franquin's Gaston Le Goof


Gaston's Le Taxi


Franquin's Marsupilami


And just how had Rob never heard of Franquin, an absolute comic genius, his crazed, energetic style putting most Brit cartoonists of the same era in the shade - thankfully Cinebooks have dedicated themselves to The 9th Art, translating many of his works, and that of so many talented Eurothers, and bringing them to a hitherto ignorant English speaking audience....





Another revelation was the work of Claude Renard which just so happened to be on special display at the Comic Art Museum - yum! There was nothing for it but to stump up for Metamorphoses, pretty much collecting all of his strip art into a single handsome volume...



Oops, two simply immaculate panels from the same page of original comic art as snapped by Rob. And, yep, in true modern fashion he didn't even take the time to make a note of who the artist was. 'Nul points!'






And now, as the images above show, it's time for things to 'braw to a close', coming full (fool?) circle - yes, keen readers will know Rob's used that phrase before, hence.... Why there's JAWS and Popeye, Porco and and V making appearances, and a copy of Le Pony Express, a comic album Rob last flicked through in French all of 35 longshort years ago....


You'd likely be going back almost the same number of years to when The Incredible Hulk was at the top of Agent Rob's 'must read this month' comic book list, and so he was sad to hear of the death of writer Peter David in 2025. It must have been about 1991 or 1992 that Rob got him to sign a plain wee postcard (long since lost) at a Glasgow Comic Convention and, yes, he did look somewhat bemused....

La Di Diane!

The loss of Diane Keaton was also keenly felt by Rob, reverberating back 30 years or so, stirring up long lost memories of student days and a strange mixture of feeling and admiration. Everyone needs a muse at some point, ay?


And what else to say other than Gary 'Mani' Mounfield broke into heaven, the heart of The Stone Roses - he brought the suss, fashion and flair to Squire and Brown's previously laughable punk goth outfit - as well as the band's biggest fan, his sudden loss a complete shock to us all!

John Squire's 1000 words

Here's hoping he's been reunited with his late wife and Rob Collins, his only fishing partner from back in the Rockfield days, while in Rob's mind he'll be forever stoatin' out of Nice N Sleazy's one sunny afternoon to astonished cries of "That's Mani!"....

The Stone Roses - Daybreak


Ah, dear Futureshock, about as indicative of the state of the Glasgow comic scene, indeed Glasgow itself! in this shocking future, as Rob can think, a once glorious melange of inspiration and ideas simmered and beaten down to its bare and barely depressing bones (much like his own once creative mind now he comes to think of it)....

Agent Johnny.... Hail Odin!

And what of the new John Miller books? Well, the stop-start (mostly stop) Braw production machine has been busy behind the behind the scenes - what you see below is the workings of The Second John G. Miller Scrapbook, the pages all scanned and in order in their print template files ready for their 'digital transfer'....


It's not an easy process chipping at 350 pages worth of art and getting it into good order across three publications, but with the right amount of early morning shifts, the right amount of canny focus, it can be done! Preparation for print will proudly begin next month (March)....

"Why, halo there." The Saint's Volvo P1800

A Braw Book - Life in the Buckfast Lane

Right, winding down to wind up, it's time for those favourite things, beginning with a clutch of quotes that captured a moment....

“Sufficient to have stood but free to fall.”
William Boyd, Stars and Bars

"Congratulations! Failure's one of the basic freedoms”
The Fourth Doctor, The Robots of Death

"A man is what he thinks about all day long."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

And finally let's dot our ayes and cross our tees with Rob's favourite things of the year sawn by. How about John Martyn showing us all how it's done with the Visual Guitar Solo, or perhaps a bit of a freedom jazz dance from Jim Jarmusch's languid Permanent Vacation, or (just glimpsed here in the trailer), a kooky moment of instantly in lovable acting from Time And Tide (at 00:15) or the young girl walking up into the sky in Studio Ghibli's sweetly nostalgic and evocative Only Yesterday...?


But the clear winner has to be this clip of The Beach Boys from the rather strange It's OK tv movie, caught on the box a few months before the death of Brian Wilson, which also features Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi. Just watch at 00:40 to see a look of pure love pass between Brian, then just returning to the stage, and his drummer brother Dennis. A bolt of feelgood vibrations from the blue!

The Beach Boys - It's OK

And so here's to life disappearing in the (increasingly fuzzy) rear view mirror while the future that lies ahead looks just as wobbly. R for Roger, over and out....

Sunday, 11 January 2026

UndergRound Up of the Year, Part 1....


So here we are again, planet earth somehow (HOW?!?) managing to remain intact for yet another revolution around the sun - while we all anxiously hope for a genuine revolution here on the (Under)ground (Up), as those with Spectrum 48K mindsets seem determined to knuckle drag (indeed, bomb) us back into the dark(er) ages, barbarianism over civilisation. Imagine waking to find that all the resources, all the energy, all that precious human ingenuity that's being wasted on war and oppression was suddenly being used for good, to help us, to preserve us, to save us (from ourselves)!

The Fall of The Rebel Angels - Pieter Bruegel The Elder, 1562

….one can but dream on while Braw guides our faithful 5 or so readers through the past 12 months-ish of favourite irregular non-pop culture 'go-to's that keep the mental plates spinning (well, just about). Hard to think that '75 cultural terrorizors JAWS and 'Salem's Lot (and musical milestone Wish You Were Here and, well, another notable thing) hit the big (Hawaii) Five-Oh this year, clocking up a whopping half century! Where does the time go? So, sit back, wayyyy back, brace yourself for a burst of brackets (these ones!) and let the painful pundown begin (with a middling-aged start to a piddling middle and a frankly steaming end)....


This year's big screen hitter was MARVEL's Fantastic Four ....years too late to save the house of mouse's ideas! Or, indeed, the Fantastic Four(th attempt after so many so-so fanchise misfires), Agent Rob definitely looking fourward to this genuine outing, but.... but.... somehow it just never really hit the expected Baxter Building heights, all the loving retro design work squandered on pretty iffy effects, the towering Galactus coming up short - we'd rather he looked like the comics and not Finchy from The Office, thank you - while the less said about the Silver Surfer's senseless sex switch the better. If they'd had the actual balls to go for boobs and bald, played it all out weird alien androgyny then perhaps they might have, er,  pulled it off. As it was.... 

Hats off to the Thing!

I mean it! Hats off! What a terrible look!

Even kiddie fave The Thing, the one, er, thing Rob was sure they'd get right, somehow landed a little off - Rob just couldn't get his head around the stupid hats he was wearing around his head! - the whole, er, thing winding up a watchable yet (un)fairly pedestrian affair - the overall team casting didn't even hit the usual MARVEL mark, with no one really standing out or feeling like the best fit for their comic counterpart....



Far better in the emotional stakes was the slow-burn Bob Trevino Likes It. Sure, Rob hummed and hawed for a bit, shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as the same old US indie flick schtick played out across the screen, but in the end there's no doubt this subtle, overlooked gem would bring a tear to a glass eye....


Then there was Dune 2, which couldn't help but come off as a second best wannabe art-house opposite to Furiosa - Anna Taylor-Joy even briefly crops up in the dusty desert - the washed out waiting, the glum sunshine, the emotional tedium and overblown visuals making for a verrrry long haul all across the sands....




With virtually no worthwhile 'big on the small screen' television to speak of this year, Rob instead raided the Archives of DVDoom , those fillums that score high on the Brawtometer, to enjoy such fair as Studio Ghibli's deeper cuts - Only Yesterday, Ocean Waves, Whisper of the Heart, Grave of the Fireflies - as well as countless cult draws - After Hours, Stoker (from Braw fave Park Chan-wook) The Dead Zone, The Neon Demon (from Braw fave Nicolas Winding Refn), Donnie Darko, Flickering Lights (from Braw fave Anders Thomas Jensen.... whose The Last Viking is arriving in cinemas shortly....)

The Last Viking Trailer



....while checking out Akira Kurosawa's The Hidden Fortress - notable as it's down at heel dithering double act inspired STAR WARS' R2D2 and C3PO - and, Luca$ again, THX1138 - The Director's Cut (which is actually a dreadful Special Edition style hatchet jobbing of ropey CGI into the original film)....




....and how could Rob not mention Jacques (Mr. Hulot) Tati's Trafic, last partially seen on VHS over 35(?!) years ago, a wonderfully subtle slice of Gallic charm that motors along quite artfully - nothing pedestrian about its infectious automotive mood!  Honestly, how could you choose just one of these posters?


A big Braw thanks too to Talking Pictures TV for screening a clutch of his fringe French fancies, Playtime and Parade....


And as per last year, the local charity shop was always worth a browse, offering up plenty of 99p (or less) bargains, some 'one-watchers' others 'finders keepers' from 70's and 80s classics - Thief, Two-Lane Blacktop, Mean Streets, Night Moves (RIP the great Gene Hackman), California Split, The Sting (RIP the racing Robert Redford), The Right Stuff - to curiocult-ish films - Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans and Encounters At The End of the World (from Braw fave Werner Herzog)....


....Fast Times at Ridgemont High, A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy, Coffee and Cigarettes (from Braw fave Jim Jarmusch.... whose Father Mother Sister Brother just had its Scottish premier at GFF) The Liquidator, Quadrophenia, Gregory's Girl, Spinal Tap (RIP the riffing Rob Reiner)....


....through to copious world cinema gems - The Wages of Fear, Kumiko The Treasure Hunter, Red Cliff, Time and Tide, Wings of Desire, Burning, Black Book, Tekkonkinkreet, La Grande Vadrouille, Jamon Jamon, The Returned - and retro boyhood faves - Oh, Mr Porter!, The Vikings and Jason and The Argonauts....


And there was even precious (Christmas) time for Rob to put his worn feet cosy side up and indulge in some of his snowy fairest of favourites - The Fearless Vampire Killers, Noi Albinoi, Together, The Thing, Where Eagles Dare - wintry films that never fail to warm the heart.... 



....and while we're at it, it'd be rude not to mention the very rude Jez Jerzy: Nie Dla Dzieci! (Not For Kids), a fairly decent attempt to bring the underground hedgehog (and Poland) jerking and jiving into the third-ish dimension....


....aside from the eternally shining Bedazzled, what about The Wrong Box - just look at that glittering gold cast! - featuring a surprisingly warm turn from Peter Cook with Dudley Moore delivering at his humble bumbling best in this witty slice of sixties silliness. Rob even slogged his way through the career slush that is Santa Claus: The Movie, scratching likely his last Dudley itch with this fantastic looking North Pole (for 1984!) piece of myth over (supposed) mirth, Moore reduced to gentle mugging in a film of two sluggish halves (that ends in a resounding 0-0 draw). Funny (not) how a film that attempts to attack consumerism and mass production stoops to the very worst of American product placement by prominently featuring McDonalds and Coca Cola. (Rob then followed this up with the late Dud's fave composer, the spirited wonder of Bach's Christmas Oratorio....)

Then again, thanks to ITVX, there was the first season of The Muppet Show to enjoy with, surprise surprise, Moore guest starring alongside a musical robot that could emulate, and thus replace, any band. Hmm, sound familiar? As well as Dud it was also nice to see episodes with  John Cleese*, Peter Sellers and, geez, to see you nice, Bruce Forsyth. A 'Britcom' invasion Stateside indeed....

*While fellow former Python Eric Idle ended up on Braw's naughty list thanks to this quote, "I was 16 or 17 when I went to see the [60s satire revue] Beyond the Fringe, and it just changed me. Those people - Peter Cook, Jonathan Miller, Alan Bennett - changed the way we looked at the world we were living in." And what of Dudley's contribution? Still, Rob had to pass up a free ticket to catch Idle's 2025 tour, so all's fair....


And so it came to pass, Ncuti Gatwa's blink and you'll miss it tenure as Doctor Who coming to an abrupt close (only there were definitely no Weeping Angels, just rejoicing trolls), with an unholy CGI jumble, old school Omega turning up and, er, eating the revived Rani before being obliterated back to where he came from - truly top drawer stuff scraped from the bottom of the writer's barrel! And what about Susan, plopped into the fan-tease-tic mix only to, um, then completely disappear, hung by a plot thread. Cracking (over)stuff. Time for a Lord to "rest". Still, watching on iPlayer the whole thing loops back to the episode 'Rose' so maybe it's a sort of RTD infinity loop, round and round and round, again and again and again. But as to whether the horrorshow(runner) is over...? It certainly seems, as the Di$ney deal vanishes into the vortex, that RTD remains wholly committed to, well, what remains of his version of Doctor Who, y'know, now that he's basically writing it for himself!

Omega suffers the same shoddy CGI fate as 2024's Sutekh

There's a great quote from Alwyn W. Turner's book Terry Nation (The Man Who Invented The Daleks) that sums up NuWho (indeed any modern reboot)'s problem perfectly - “Had he consciously set out to create an enduring myth for the age of the mass media, it simply wouldn't have worked.”


Thankfully Rob could wash his mouth out with a return to Classic Who, now exploding into 1970's colour with the arrival of Jon Pertwee's all-action Doctor - nice to see him seemingly fresh off his last job, sporting a necklace and tattoos in the glorious opening HD of the wonderful Spearhead From Space. The show may be earthBBCbound, but the universe is still expanding at a great rate, with sooooo much to enjoy here, Rob revelling in a crushed velvet purple patch of previously unseen peak Pertwee! Why, there's more U.N.I.T., Ogrons, Autons, Axons, Silurians, Sea Devils, Draconians, Sontarans, Peladon, Three Doctors! – the super stars, great galaxies and chasmic cosmos  slowly aligning (in front of and behind the camera) all ready for Tom Baker's big bang. It's so constantly inventive you can forgive the occasional shouty villain (hey, Omega!), the endless damp earthy settings, atonal incidental music, or stretched six-parter – the hilarious Police Squad-esque gun battles of Colony In Space spring to mind – or continuity slip “A wine after my own heart.”, from the wonderfully time loopy Day of the Daleks....


And then there's the excellent support from Liz Shaw, the amazing Jo Grant and the genius arrival of Roger Delgado's scowling The Master, complete with his funky in-TARDIS filing cabinets! It's funny how the Third Doctor spends a lot if his time munching sandwiches, pulling comedy terror faces and slagging off The Brigadier's “blow it up” policy only to buddy up with Roger at the crucial moment, just as the nefarious plot holes threaten to go unstoppably awry. And it's so strange, with the benefit of hindsight, as the show switches up for Pertwee's final season – it feels like Tom Baker's already in the building with the time-tastic tunnel titles and Sarah Jane Smith making her debut. It's hard to imagine seeing this fresh for the first time week by week and not even knowing that it was going to get even better in 1975...


...and it does, Tom Baker blowing the bloody doors off the TARDIS from the get go, the high quality never really letting up across his first three years lording over the controls (The Brain of Morbius aside - good as it is, it perhaps leans too heavily into its Gothic influences), with the Planet of Evil a tantalising glimpse at how (in)credible Who would have looked if shot entirely on film. (And, hush, but Rob has to confess he's not a huge fan of Sarah Jane Smith, finding her a bit 'wet', a poor man's Jo Grant? – and do remember, just to put things into perspective, Rob is a poor man)....


Then quite suddenly, after the opening excellence of Horror of Fang Rock, series four wobbles around all over the place, super steely Leela suddenly comes over all feeble in the half (good idea) and half (craply realised) The Invisible Enemy, while stories like The Sun Makers, Underworld and The Invasion of Time are as flippin' floppy as Baker's broad brimmed hat.... By the time you're watching Sontarans clumping up the back stairs - evidently there's no lifts in Gallifrey, while the TARDIS one doesn't work - you begin to question just what all the retroactive fuss is all about....


Thankfully things get back on track(en) with the Key To Time series, a fairly decent clutch of stories revolving around the titular macguffin (or whatever it was called in the late 1970s). The Pirate Planet may be just about the very best sf idea of that time, only the Captain's OTT (or whatever it was called in the late 1970s) performance verges on walking the plank - something of a recurring theme of Douglas Adams's time on the show, a clunky comedy bounce for Baker that can't help but pull you out the story. Still, the luminous Mary Tamm is suitably refreshing as Romana, all Joanna Lumley glow and archly aloof, perfect for the Baker banter if a little too detached to sell the peril. (Tho Leela's still the proverbial (robot) dog's in Rob's eyes)....


Then we have Lalla Ward's turn as Romana for Baker's sixth (and silliest) series, all wide-eyed wonder/infatuation as she spars with Tom, suffers endless Baker dodgy double takes while besting boaby-shaped baddies and further wide berthing Douglas's dirty dozens of sub-Bob Holmes comedy stooges. However, there's absolutely no doubt that Lalla truly sells the Daleks in 'Destiny' in a way that Mary Tamm never could, and maybe even better than Barbara's first 'hand on the camera' encounter. High praise indeed....


The absolute treat here is being able to experience Shada in all its glory, the missing recording completed by animation in the style of the best Troughton recreations. Rollicking along on a similar vibe to series opener City of Death, lots of glorious location filming set to a jolly soundtrack, it's an uneven but still brilliant six-parter again from the mercurial mind of overseer Douglas Adams....


And what can be said of Tom's final series, a head to toe burgundy Baker looking (fittingly?) like the life's been sucked out of him, all gaunt features, lifeless curls and oblique, blank stares. (Heh, and who woulda thought, Jacqueline 'Barbara' Hill popping up in Meglos!) A shame that but this time the show's never looked better, the effects and design really upping a notch while the stories take a very welcome serious turn....


Indeed, as if proof were needed that everything comes Full Circle, here Rob catches up with himself, his earliest Who memories colliding with the then and the now, The Watcher his first genuine behind the sofa moment. Now it's off further back through time and space to enjoy the newly discovered episodes of The Daleks' Master Plan.... 


In 2025 Sunday became the scene of “event” tv, a back to the old school weekly episode of Twin Peaks (accompanied by a welcome single malt), one of the greatest shows of all time, equal parts silly and sinister, warm but undercut with menace, a show that seems to embrace the cheese of American television while probing at a dark belly underneath – is it celebrating the fact or laughing at it, who can say, as characters turn on a dime, the gentle amusement giving way to uncomfortable ideas. There's no doubt it still chills in and at all the right places. Of course, it's no secret that David Lynch hates the second season of TP and to some extent he's right - you could say the final nail in its coffin is when a boom microphone appears in the top of a scene between Audrey and Ben Horne in episode 13.... 


And, fittingly, for Braw's final undergrouting, Rob finally got around to Twin Peaks: The Return. What a seachange! Gone is the original's warmth (and much of the woozy music too), the show stretching out into a chilly American widescreen of scratching, repetitive atmospherics, unf'lynch'ing in its sex, violence and swearing....

"Dougie Jones."

It's almost become its very own televisual dark doppleganger in a sense by abandoning the myriad personal dramas of the original - that'll be the daft (but engaging) dynamics of S2 being jettisoned for a more linear though no less off-the-wall tale, Agent Cooper endlessly bumbling around and slow blinking like an AI Stan Laurel while returning characters are drip fed to us episode by episode....


Yet it's hard to shake the SNL skit vibe as out of shape actors squeeze into their old costumes and have an awkward bash at delivering their stilted dialogue (as the closing dedications to the late Killer Bob, Albert and Major Briggs trickle in). Still, there's a joy in seeing the original cast return, the second episode being a particular highlight as Laura, Leland and Sarah Palmer and the (not as freaky now) One-Armed Man backtalk in the Black Lodge, while James and - woo hoo, the joy! - Shelly hang out in The Roadhouse bar. But as to why Audrey Horne makes a (frankly terrible) late return as a frustrated pottymouth is anyone's guess....

"Gotta light?"

But Rob's always been a firm believer in letting the original creators (soarly or gloriously) f*ck with their IPs as per Lucas (STAR WARS), Ridley Scott (Alien) and even, sort of, George Miller (Mad Max), people with genuine vision at whatever (the) cost. Anything's better than the results of clueless fanboy wannabees farting out tepid soft sud reboots, missing all the easy targets to the satisfaction of, well, no one. (Quite what point this paragraph is making is unsure, I type therefore it is). Rob'll see just how much it is true now he plans to tackle Game Of Thrones from start to finish, his new Sunday joint....



Comedy ruled the (air)waves otherwise, from the tech-titters of the always on point Silicon Valley through to the artful situation-subversion of It's Garry Shandling's Show, The Larry Sander's Show, and Arrested Development, and UK cult comedic curio Snuff Box, leaving little time or space otherwise for either the (wearing a bit thin) concluding seasons of Homeland, the slyly watchable Sneaky Pete - Giovanni Ribisi at the head of the ever-crissing double-cross of a well assembled ensemble - the ambiguous motivations of The Night Of, or another turn from Miami's favourite serial killing series Dexter: Original Sin....


Then there's FX's bold and brash lip-smacking Chicago set dramedy The Bear, a rush of ugly characters swearing at each other as they attempt to hold head chef Carmy's late brother's beef sandwich shop (and themselves) together. Well, as tasty as the menu looks on paper - for starters, no one'd ever take away a meal from a place run like The Original Beef! - it's one of those shows full of fast talkin', larger than life (ie. they only exist on TV) American males for the main course, everyone giving it their absolute best sub-Scorsese intensity - by the time The Punisher's rustling up an expletive laden breakfast it's definitely too many cliched cooks spoiling this broth...


Having clocked out of Obi-Wan Kenobi after a few episodes Rob finally dipped his toe into the world of fan edits to see if the trimmed down to a movie version had The Force with it. In a sense it does, albeit a distinctly TV movie one, with shades of Episode IV, apes of Episode II's hunt for ? and a good grizzled turn by (a better suited to the role) Ewan McGregor. Sure, the hits are all very easy targets (that land perfectly as planned), but by ending on "hello there" it cannot fail but raise an affectionate fully circular smile....



Spinning out from comedy to the live stage in 2025 were firstly Tim Minchin, mildly but now firmly on Rob's radar after an evening that tickled everything from the funny bone to the broken heart, and secondly Inside No. 9, making a fantastic switch to the live arena in the old dab stage hands of Pemberton and Shearsmith....


Well, The Doomsday Machine permitting - who knows how many empires have risen and fallen since you began reading this post? - Braw will return in late February to cover a year in music, books and comics in our second half. In the meantime - and time is goddam mean! - here's a nice slice of early techno from Union Jack, a definite comfort in these beyond hellish times....

Union Jack - There Will Be No Armageddon