I’ve heard worse things — the death rattle of a close relative, for example: Kylie’s Disco reviewed

Grade: B– Uh-oh. Might have to be careful here, pull my punches a little bit. The editor is a big fan of the caterwauling Aussie. We have enormous editorial freedom at The Spectator, but one needs to exercise a little discretion. Last time I reviewed a Kylie album he was very kind about my writing, but I could see a deep sadness in his eyes. He also adores Mariah Carey. Conservatives are weird about music. Luckily — luckily, luckily, luckily — this is a lot better than her previous effort, Golden, which had been an attempt at a country album. She was about as believable a country singer as, I

The sound of pop eating itself and throwing up: A.G. Cook’s Apple reviewed

Grade: A The future, then. The sound of pop eating itself, throwing up into a bag and then getting a spoon and digging in. A mash-up of everything — largely very sickly EDM, but also trance, house, power ballads, industrial techno, soft rock, winsome acoustic guitar. Meticulous to the point of almost derangement, endlessly inventive both musically and rhythmically, full of arch puns. Such as the album’s title here — Apple. Mr Cook is the boss of the record label PC Music. Geddit? Sides splitting? That’s the other thing — the future also promises to be very irritating. What you cannot doubt is A.G. Cook’s nerdish attention to detail, nor