The second and final album of Cheeseman, Ohio native Amanda Fish before her untimely death in 1978 is an oft-overlooked acoustic masterpiece. More poignantly, every track appears to foreshadow in some way the trousers-related accident that was to follow just three months after its release. Songs such as 'I'm definitely going to die within the next few weeks, honestly', and 'That inner seam doesn't look right to me, and I have a terrible feeling about it' may come across as outdated or irrelevant to todays musical palate, but that is to miss the point entirely. Best listened to with the volume right down. And ones trousers. Personal Recollectionz by @lolbertz "The Amanda Fish obituary in the Financial Times was very special indeed. 'Frankfurt on alert as DAX plunges 30 points' it read. Marvellously oblique. My copy of this album on cassette is soaked in urine. Absolutely drenched, it is. These days she's probably most famous for dying, and for he

'We recorded this album', said ToDs Julian Ferris-Phatson upon its release in 1982, 'so that nobody would ever have to listen to it. Ever.' A bold claim for sure, but then this is a recording that makes many bold claims in its own right. Indeed the second track on side five of the triple vinyl set is called 'Bold Claim'. As is, confusingly, the first track on side six. The Table's eighth album and third of their infamous electro-prog-gothic-gospel-funk phase, this was their final release before the departure of 3'6" bassist and founder member Isaac Lark to form the Bold Claimants. A rare and previously unreleased 'side seven' finally surfaced in 2000, while Table of Drops continue to tour to this day, albeit with cellist Sunita Bee the only surviving member from their 70s heyday, and given her legendary reluctance to perform with other musicians, the shows consist primarily of solo cello music entirely unrelated to the ToDs back catalogue. P

Of all the bands to ride the Britpop wave of the mid-1990s, few are regarded more uniquely than Mexborough janglers Cashpoint , represented here by their 1996 offering, the enigmatic 'Pigs of Idiom'. Eager to avoid the problematic 'second album syndrome', Cashpoint very wisely skipped straight to their third, and in the process created an uneven masterpiece that raised more questions than it answered: Why are we here? Why do we ask why we are here? And how many trombones is it possible for one man to play concurrently? While Jimminy Plinth's guitar work is less consistent than on their debut and drummer Ron Kegg's barbituate habit is very evident on tracks like 'Limeater' and the closing 'Murdered like the dead', this is nonetheless a record that both captured the mood of the era and questioned the fact that it did. Personal Recollectionz by @lolbertz "I remember seeing Cashpoint live at the Trainwreck in Camden on my 19th birthday. We were