How I won the Champions League for Liverpool

The time has come to admit it, with apologies to Tottenham fans. In 2019, Liverpool and Spurs contested an all-English Champions League final in Madrid. Many reasons have been advanced for Liverpool’s 2-0 triumph. Some – well, mainly Glenn Hoddle – say the early Liverpool penalty was harsh. Some say Liverpool controlled the game from start to finish because they had better players. Some rue a couple of missed Spurs chances in the second half.

Only now can I reveal the real reason. From the night that Liverpool got to the final – after that astonishing 4-0 demolition of Barcelona at Anfield – I missed the bottom step every time I walked down a flight of stairs. Truly! I have no idea why this superstitious gesture – which started in a triumphant dash back from the loo after the semi final win – had the impact it did. But for what seemed an age between the semi and the final, I stepped over the bottom step every time – sometimes nearly injuring myself on escalators. This was my private ‘for luck in the final’ superstition.

You may scoff, but it worked. Liverpool won their sixth European Cup.

This is not an isolated example. I’ve been laughed at for wearing a Liverpool shirt while watching games on the telly – and for changing it at half time when things aren’t going well. The sight of a single magpie on match day has been known to convince me of an impending defeat. And I have scrabbled around picking up filthy pennies on dusty floors to bring luck not to me, but my favourite football team.

When my daughter was a child, she watched a large portion of a vital Liverpool match at Crystal Palace, and went to bed when we were 3-0 up. Unbelievably, Palace clawed it back to 3-3, seemingly wrecking the dream of a first Liverpool league title since 1990. My deranged response was to wake my sleeping child and insist she watch the rest of the match with me – my infallible logic was that her being in the room had put Liverpool three goals up. Sadly, I must report that the intervention did not work on this occasion. I obviously should have not let her go to bed in the first place as it clearly broke the spell.

It’s not just me, by the way. Football fans as a breed are weird. From wearing the same pants they wore during a particular victory, to threatening not to shave until their team wins a game or even a cup, bizarre fan superstitions and rituals are rife if not always hygenic. I’ve read of a guy who thinks if he glances at the match clock and the number is symmetrical, his team will win. Of a woman who ran around the garden when willing her team to score – and then kept up the tradition for years afterwards when they did. Of fans eating the same pre-match meal, of sitting in a particular seat to watch or even refusing to watch with people they deem ‘unlucky’. Some shout the same mantra at the start of every game, whether they are there for it to be heard or not. And players themselves have their own closely repeated pre-match rituals that they hope will bring them luck.

All of this of course reflects that football (like any sport) often requires a degree of luck for results to go your way. If you can’t influence it at all – especially as a fan, where the most you can do is a sing a song or yell at players/officials in the ground if you’re actually there. It’s enirely, 100% out of your hands and seemingly in the lap of the gods.

Little wonder that we invent little superstitions, mantras and rituals and kid ourselves they might make a difference. It’s another form of praying, I guess – I’m sure Heaven has to put on extra staff during penalty shoot-outs. Everyone is the main character in their own drama and so of course you want to influence the script, even if the reality is you have no means of doing so. Or as psychologist Dr Josephine Perry puts it: “When we’re out of control, or feel out of control because we can’t control the thing that’s in front of is, we like to find things to take control.”

Every football ground, every sports stadium, every pub or household where people gather to watch sport, all of these places are full of people who have dressed, eaten, danced or in my case stepped their way through a bizarre tradition that they hope will give them that control. The fact that it won’t doesn’t matter – it’s just part of being a fan and part of the madness of loving sport.

And reflecting on that sixth European Cup, you can talk about the heroics of Mo Salah,and Divock Origi all you like. But you need to know that neither was scoring that night if a strange man in his 50s hadn’t nearly broken his neck leaping over bottom steps for several weeks before it.

The 30 best Oasis songs…definitely maybe

It’s been Oasis’ summer. A barnstorming return to live performances, universal acclaim, even a revival of Britpop fashion. And seeing the brother reunite at Wemlbey was one of my 2025 highlights – and honestly, it might even rank as the best gig I’ve ever attended.

The band’s focus on the early years in those concerts – essentially the first two albums and early singles/B sides, with only Little By Little from the 21st century – was smart and well-judged. There’s no question that the first 3 years or so are really Oasis in their absolute pomp. That doesn’t mean to say there were no gems on the later albums – Little By Little is a good example – but most lists of their greatest songs is dominated by the early years.

I’ve had a go here – like any such list, mine changes depending on mood and vibe. Like seeing them at Wembley, my list is above all a reminder of what a magnificent band Oasis really were. That combination of swagger, optimism, chutzpah and great tunes brilliantly executed is reflected in the fact that 30 years later, kids are still singing their songs. And – I’ll come back to this a few times below – Noel at his best wrote some doozer lyrics.

So here, in reverse order, is my list of their 30 greatest songs – feel free to share yours!

30. D’ Yer Wanna Be Spaceman? (1994)

A great early B-side (to Shakermaker), this was the era when Noel just seemed to be churning out one brilliant throwaway tune after another – this one doen’t even make the much-loved B-sides compilation, The Masterplan. (We’ll come back to a major omission from that later, too.)

29. (What’s The Story?) Morning Glory (1995)

‘All your dreams are made, when you’re chained to the mirror and the razor blade’. The title track to their second album comes in with an aplomb and energy that never leaves. It’s Oasis at their most shouty and bombastic.

28 . Bring It On Down (1994)

Alan McGhee describes hearing this live as ‘the moment I knew they were special’. It’s a visceral cry of rage – ‘You’re the outcast, You’re the underclass’ – and still going down a storm live in 2025.

27. Digsy’s Dinner (1994)

The lyrics may be a daft tale about throwing up lasagne, but like the later earworm She’s Electric, it almost defines catchy. ‘These could be the best days of our lives’ is such an optimistic, heartlifting line and the whole thing is just a perfect slice of rock pop.

26. Hello (1995)

The perfect reunion opener, it’s actually one of their most underrated songs – definitely evocative of Slade, before they go full Gary Glitter at the end (which they maybe wouldn’t have done a few years later).

25. Stay Young (1997)

One of many great Oasis B-sides – this one for D’ You Know What I Mean?’ – and one of many examples of how Noel Gallagher in his prime wrote lyrics that capture a universal feeling or sentiment in a simple and immediate way few others can – in this case the desire to ‘stay young and invincible‘ and the perhaps autobiographical at the time ‘Come what may, we’re unstoppable’.

24. Lord Don’t Slow Me Down (2007)

One of the real gems of the later years, this non-album single evokes The Who and was released to promote the documentary of the same name. Even if they had slowed down since the 90s, this brought back a taste of their triumphant period.

23. Sad Song (1994)

Not even a B-side but a bonus track from Noel’s inasanely produtive period, it’s a beautiful and reflective tune and an early example of how some Oasis songs are better suited to his voice than Liam’s.

22. Little By Little (2002)

Another example here. Heathen Chemistry is in my view the best of the post-Morning Glory studio albums and it’s no surprise that this Noel-led singalong became a staple of his solo sets – and of course, the 2025 tour.

21. Songbird (2002)

From the same album, a gorgeous love song written by Liam was not what anyone expected at the time, but here it is.

20. Talk Tonight (1995)

The first Oasis ‘split’ actually came in 1995 when an exaperated Noel walked out after a chaotic US gig and wrote this song about the woman who he said ‘saved’ him. A B-side of their first UK number 1, Some Might Say – and a better song.

19. Columbia (1994)

A surprise miss from the 2025 set, this was the opener in those early glory years, including at Knebworth. Another great example here of Noel’s simple but evocative lyrics ‘I can’t tell you the way I feel, because the way I feel is oh so new to me’.

18. (It’s Good) To Be Free (1994)

Another brilliant B-side, another memorable Noel Gallagher line: ‘It’s the little things that make you so happy’. Again, it’s not profound – it just captures something you feel in your soul (if you have one!) and that kinda makes it profound.

17. Going Nowhere (1997)

And another. Apparently written in the late 80s before Oasis even existed as Noel dreamt of stardom ‘I’m gonna buy me a motor car, maybe a Jaguar, maybe a plane or a day of fame’ and wonders why his life is ‘so tame’.

16. The Importance of Being Idle (2005)

Oasis’ last number one single, and voted best song of 2005 by readers of Q magazine, it’s so close to the Kinks that it feels like pastiche. It was a sharp reminder that Oasis were still capable of brilliance. The same style would be reflected in Noel’s solo debut single, The Death Of You and Me.

15. Stop Crying Your Heart Out (2002)

A glorious, moving singalong to the downhearted, which became the BBC’s choice of theme for England’s 2002 World Cup exit – and for me, the best of the post-glory years Oasis songs.

14. Married With Children (1994)

Brilliantly droll closer to Definitely Maybe, probably early Oasis at their most Beatlesesque (though the general comparison is overplayed). Smart, witty lyrics ‘I hate the way that even know you know you’re wrong, you say you’re right’ and ‘I hate the way that you are so sarcastic and you’re not every bright’ – understated, underrated song.

13. Cigarettes And Alcohol (1994)

Barnstorming and brilliant and more dreams of stardom, peppered with a demand to just ‘make it happen’ – ‘You could wait for a lifetime to spend you days in the sunshi-ine’ . Liam at his most snarling, Noel at his cleverest – yes it’s the riff from Get It On, but that just adds to its charm – everything here is turned up to 11.

12. Whatever (1994)

A stand-alone single in between the two great albums, it’s up there with the finest tunes – ‘It always seems to me, You only see what people want you to see.’ Uplifting, optimistic and one of those songs that just evokes happiness.

11. The Masterplan (1995)

‘Take the time to make some sense of what you want to say’. Simply gorgeous. That this song, Wonderwall, Round Our Way and Underneath The Sky were all on one EP says a lot for Noel’s prolific songwriting at the time.

10. Acquiesce (1995)

Another great B-side – another one from the no 1 Some Might Say EP that was better than the lead single. One of the most iconic, stomp along, triumphant Oasis anthems: ‘I don’t know what it is that makes me feel alive; I don’t know how to wake the things that sleep inside.’

9. Rock n Roll Star (1994)

What a way to announce a stunning debut album – those first few bars promise something special and the rest of the song does not disappoint. Again, Noel dreaming of stardom, Liam belting and sneering out the words. Brilliant.

8. Supersonic (1994)

And what a way to announce yourself to the world: Oasis first single was one of those ‘WTF’ moments in pop history, you simply had to sit up and take notcie. Lyrically one of Noel’s best: ‘I want to be myself, I can’t be no-one else’ and ‘She’s sniffing in a tissue, selling the Big Issue’. among the best lines. Apparently written in a few minutes with a G&T, hence the gin and tonic reference.

7. Slide Away (1994)

A huge fan favourite and plenty would have this at #1. A genuine love song about Noel’s stormy relationship with his then girlfriend and that iconic ‘shi-ine’ again from his brother: ‘Let me be the one who shines with you’.

6. Wonderwall (1995)

It’s so ubiquitous now that it’s hard to remember how stunning this song was when it came out. A step change in the battle of Britpop, Noel’s tender lyrics put through Liam’s attitude factory showed a side to the band that blew radio listeners away . There is a reason songs get played so often, you know. And again, the beautiful simplicty of ‘I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now’ and ‘There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how.’

5. Half The World Away (1994)

Reportedly Noel’s favourite B-side and made famous as the theme to The Royle Family, it’s another massive crowd favourite as Noel – again – wistfully dreams of leaving town and finding a better life.

4. Don’t Look Back In Anger (1995)

Every bit as iconic as Wonderwall, Noel has never been in better voice in another super-charged anthemic singalong. More cheeky theft – this time the opening bars of Imagine and even a quote from John Lennon – ‘They said the brains I had went to my head’ – it took on new meaning as an anthem following the Manchester bombings. At this stage, Oasis were just unstoppable.

3. Live Forever (1994)

Liam’s favourite to sing, Noel’s moment of realisation that they might be really on to something special. Another than many would rate as the best of their best, it’s a masterpiece from start to finish. ‘Maybe I will never be all the things that I wanna be’ and ‘You and I are gonna live forever’ – simple, beautiful words again.

2. Champagne Supernova (1995)

There is no better rock pop anthem than this – another of those that just elevated Oasis so far above their alleged rivals that it felt like game over. Drunk lads and ladettes hugging in a circle bellowing ‘Where were you when we were getting high?’ – this song felt like a focal point of the 90s. And has there been a better description of being off your face than ‘Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball’? (If you don’t get it, you’ve not been there!)

  1. Round Are Way (1995)

‘Yer what?’, I hear you say? But for me, this song (complete with Slade-like comedy spelling) is the ultimate Oasis song, the one where you really see McGhee’s description of their second album as ‘a council estate singing its heart out’. It”s glorious from start to finish: reflecting the ebullience of the band’s rise with a reflection on their childhood; 25-a side football matches in which the ‘next goal wins’, meeting at the dole office to sign on ‘just before the staff clock in’. And a rousing, immediate chorus that just sweeps you along. It’s a mystery – in fact a travesty – that this song did not make the afore-mentioned B-side collection. It’s not just their best B-side, it’s their greatest song – for me, anyway.

Mad for it! The triumphant return of Oasis

As Oasis mania sweeps Britain like it’s 1995 and the opening gig of a reunion tour we thought would never happen gets wall to wall five star reviews, it must be a tough time to be one of the peculiar obsessives who take every opportunity to diss the most successful band of the 1990s.

Flash your pan at the song that I’m singing, Liam sang on the title track to Be Here Now, the album largely heralded as the start of their long decline. Noel’s lyric perhaps acknowledged the received wisdom was that Oasis would be a brief and ultimately forgettable 90s craze.

Not so. It was clear when each Gallagher brother separately played Glastonbury in recent years that their songs had found a whole new Gen Z audience. Kids who know nothing of their contemporaries Blur, Pulp and Suede were singing along word perfect to even some of the lesser Oasis hits. So much for Oasis not enduring well. The clamour for a reunion spanned generations, even as the continuing war of words between the Gallaghers made it look impossible.

When, in the words of their PR, ‘the guns fell silent’, the rush to get tickets for the live performances was a rampage. There was furious fallout over the dynamic pricing – cue more headlines hyping the tour – and a fair bit of forecasting how terrible the whole thing would be. But the Gallaghers, while being pretty honest about the fact that they were doing it for the money, were never going to let that happen. If Oasis were to reform after all these years in the face of this demand and hype, it would have to be, to quote Liam, ‘biblical’. Turns out that at least two of the reviews of the first night used exactly that term – and many who were there described it as the greatest gig they’d ever attended. It’s a triumph on every level for the band – once again cheering the country up in gloomy times – and one in the eye for the naysayers.

There is of course a pre-1998 bias to the setlist. The days when Noel Gallagher was randomly chucking stone cold classics on to B-sides and seeming like the world’s most prolific writer of brilliant tunes only lasted a short period – but as Alexis Petredis puts it in The Guardian, ‘the show serves as a reminder of how fantastic purple patch Oasis were’. Hindsight is always 20:20: a better strategy might have been to save some of the throwaway classics up (The Masterplan would have been a great third album). That said, every Oasis album has its gems – Stop Crying Your Heart Out, The Importance of Being Idle, The Shock Of The Lightning, Lyla, Gas Panic and Little By Little – the one 21st century Oasis tune to make the live set – are great examples, as is one off single Lord Don’t Slow Me Down.

But there is no question that Oasis peaked in their ”golden years” in the mid-1990s – and the Gallaghers are savvy enough to focus their live performances on that era. After several failed attempts, I have managed to get a ticket – and I’m not sure I have ever looked forward to a gig more. So to celebrate, here’s my own collection of the days when Oasis truly burned like a champagne supernova in the sky.

Are podcasts for people who don’t love music?

I love music. Listening to it – getting lost in its mood, its way of telling us things about ourselves, its ability to take us to a different place – is one of the very greatest pleasures in my life. And while my preference is very much ‘popular’ over classical music, I appreciate that both can have those impacts on a listener. Music is one of the most truly remarkable things humanity has created and its ability to move us is one of the best things about being alive.

What music I listen to depends on mood. My tastes are pretty eclectic and I’ve listed them in other blogs. I’m often intrigued by what inspired a song or piece of music, what’s the story behind it – or what story is the song telling me? Other times its just the rhythm and the beat and the sentiment: does it make you feel like partying, does it make you cathartically sad, does it make you think or even change your perspective? All of these things have happened to me, happen to me, while listening to music.

If I am home alone, home in company, travelling, doing housework, napping – music is almost always my preferred accompaniment. I dont’ switch on the TV unless there is something specific I want to watch. I don’t mind going to the cinema, but I am not sure I’d hugely miss it. Theatre is an occasional treat and better than the movies. Books are an absolute must, even on a par with music, but way more demanding of time in a busy life. Listening to music is the most simple pleasure: it can be on in the background, even if in my case it will almost always force its way into my thoughts and conversation. The streaming era is an absolute boon: I can now listen to pretty much any music I want to at any time, I can discover new and old music whenever I want, I can (and endlessly do) compile playists by theme, artist, mood or genre. Spotify is like a close friend.

I only listen to the radio occasionally now, but when I do I also prefer music to talk radio. I’ve had my periods of waking up to the Today programme, which still largely sets the news agenda in the UK. I have spent time listening to Radio 4, Five Live, even Talksport – and unlike podcasts, they do at least feel more designed to dip in and out of . But (by definition) there’s no music and I soon start to miss that. Of course, the old beauty of music radio – a song you love or had forgotten coming on unexpectedly – is not quite what it was in the era of streaming and curated playlists, but it still has its pleasures. And I’m still more likely to stick the radio on than a podcast.

I spoke to a woman on a train a few weeks ago who referenced a podcast, then cringed and said :”I’m such a middle class cliche!”. She had a point: the middle classes talk about podcasts now they way they used to talk about books or tv shows. One in five of usin the UK now regularly listen to podcasts – and sometimes it seems that everyone in the public eye (or wanting to be) has one.

People often ask me why I don’t listen to more podcasts. I have often wondered myself, because there are some brilliant ones out there. I do listen to some. Top Flight Time Machine, The Anfield Wrap, The Rest Is Politics – an eclectic mix in itself. But I don’t seek out podcasts or find those covering my areas of interest – politics, news, football, even music – essential listening. I find ‘investigation’ podcasts dull – I’d rather read it in a book, thanks – and I find my mind wandering during most podcasts. When listening to music, this is not a problem, it may even enhance the experience. But with podcasts, you might miss a key bit and have to go back (easier when reading a book) or you might just lose concentration on what’s being said. Or I might, anyway.

But the big reason why I don’t listen to many podcasts is the opportunity cost. If I’m listening to a pod, I’m not listening to music – and I’d take one of my Spotify playlists over The News Agents any day. It makes me wonder if people who listen to lots of podcasts just don’t share my adoration of music. I’m not saying they don’t like music – most people do, to some degree – I’m just wondering if it matters to them the way it does to me. There’s so much music to listen to, so many worlds to get lost in – but I am maybe beginning to realise that not everyone consumes music in the obsessive, all-encompassing way I do. People may like and appreciate music, but having it on most of the time and being somewhat lost in it a fair amount of that – isn’t for them.

So the podcast boom is all good and there are lots of things to enjoy in life that aren’t music. I even enjoy some of them myself. It’s also possible to love music and love podcasts. But if you love music the way I love music , finding the time and will to listen to podcasts regularly is honestly a struggle. Maybe I just love music too much to two-time it with people talking.

David Bowie’s 60 best songs – just for one day

Ok, I said I would never do this. It’s exceptionally difficult as such a huge Bowie fan to rank his best songs for three reasons. First, the sheer number of brilliant, life affirming, life changing songs that you have to leave out of what I have decided is a top 60. I’m already feeling sad for Warszawa, The Width Of A Circle, Sons Of The Silent Age, Station To Station, Fantastic Voyage and literally 40 odd others. Second, because other Bowie fans – and I love you all – will virulently disagree. But third, and most important, because the order can never stay the same, it changes daily, it depends on mood and mode and me. To coin a phrase, it’s always ch-ch-changing…

But today, in reverse order, this is my top 60.

60. I’m Afraid Of Americans 1997

Not everyone liked Bowie’s drum and bass phase – I did as, like everything else he did, it Bowiefied the genre – but it’s hard for anyone to argue against this tune. Sweeping industrial techno sound and a chorus to die for – we’re all afraid of Americans these days, maybe he was just ahead of his time again…

59. Stay 1976

Bowie’s white soul phase peaked with Station to Station; this funk soul rocker was a live favourite at the time; musically it’s in fact a harder, funk-based reworking of John, I’m Only Dancing.

58. The Bewlay Brothers 1971

The closer to Hunky Dory is a dense, poetic and fantastically odd tune that is probably the most experimental on the album. At different times, Bowie has said it is about his relationship with his own schizophrenic brother, that it is written for the US market because Americans ‘like to read into things” and that he has no idea what was going through his mind when he wrote it.

57. Big Brother/Chant Of The Ever Circling Skeletal Family 1974

The dystopian Diamond Dogs ends with this double header, like Sweet Thing/Candidate on the same album it’s two songs spliced together that have to be heard as one. Big Brother is dramatic and sounds like something from a stage musical; Chant is funky and its lyrics a repetitive Shake it up, Move it up’, conjuring visons of a zombie family getting down and grooving.

56. Cactus 2002

A magnificent cover of a Pixies song for the acclaimed Heathen album, Cactus has a raw power that knocks the original for six.

55. The Next Day 2013

The title track to the album of the same name is ebullient and defiant in the face of what sounds like a religious execution. Bowie suddenly and unexpectedly returns with a blinding album and a riposte to rumours about his health: ‘Here I am, not quite dying’.

54. Lady Grinning Soul 1973

What to say about this? It’s different to anything else on Aladdin Sane and probably to anything else in Bowie’s catalogue: the the outstanding piano work from Mike Garson and Bowie’s stunning vocal carry along a beautiful song.

53. The Hearts Filthy Lesson 1995

Bowie’s 90s revival was almost ignored in the era of Britpop, dance and house, but this industrial rock blinder stands the test of time – and of course became the perfect theme to the iconic movie Seven. (Disappointing lack of apostrophe in the title, but I’ll forgive him.)

52. Lady Stardust 1972

One of the most underrated tracks on Ziggy Stardust, and apparently inspired by Marc Bolan, it fits the Ziggy story arc perfectly: ‘Lady Stardust sang his songs of darkness and dismay…And he was alright, the band was all together...’ The past tense suggests things are about to unravel for Ziggy…the path to his Rock n Roll Suicide is opening up.

51. Boys Keep Swinging 1979

The raw energy in this tune comes from Bowie swapping around his musicians so everyone is playing a different instrument; it’s another case where the chord sequence is the same as another song, in this case Fantastic Voyage from the same album, Lodger. Lyrically a pisstake of machismo and cliches around masculinity.

50. Velvet Goldmine

A terrific blast of glam rock from the Ziggy sessions, it’s fun, catchy and apparently in Bowie’s own words ‘a little too provocative’ for release at the time – the subject matter being quite rude. The title is inspired by the Velvet Underground, arguably Bowie’s biggest influence. (It’s also too easily forgotten and I have just edited it in to this playlist, with apologies to Word On A Wing!)

49. Up The Hill Backwards 1980

Unusual time signatures yet somehow a singalong, this song about someone in crisis has been seen as relating to Bowie’s divorce from his ex-wife Angie, but as often with Bowie, there’s a kind of apocalyptic element to it all.

48. John, I’m Only Dancing 1972

A floor-filler at any Bowie night, he later said this single was his attempt at a ‘gay anthem’ . Aligned perfectly with his recently declared bisexuality and the glam rock sound he popularised, it was apparently inspired by a conversation with his drummer John Cambridge about Bowie dancing with his future wife, Angie.

47. The Prettiest Star 1973

Written as a love song for Angie and another of Aladdin‘s great moments: gorgeously sentimental and catchily glam.

46. Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) 1980

Bowie stormed into the 80s with the album from which this is the title track: post-Berlin he was inspiring and reflecting the emerging new romantic scene, much as songs on the album derided his copiers. This is a tour de force; dark, gothic and relentless.

45. Drive-In Saturday 1973

Like many Bowie songs, this one is based in a future world: a post-apocalyptic one in which people watch films to remind themselves how to have sex. From the seminal Aladdin Sane, its catchy chorus and doo-wop backing vocals made it a massive hit, strangely underplayed today.

44. Where Are We Now? 2013

Impossible to forget Bowie’s sudden re-emergence after a ten-year hiatus with this devastating single directly referencing his Berlin years and the hiatus itself in a song that is now kind of haunting. ‘As long as there’s me, as long as there’s you.’

43. Diamond Dogs 1974

Bowie’s desire to record an album as a 1984 soundtrack were thwarted by George Orwell’s estate, but the album he eventually made went a stage further, presenting a post-holcoaust world in which this blistering, rocking title track set out a dark and horrific future. A schoolmate of mine once put it on out of curiosity when babysitting: he got scared and switched it off.

42. Letter To Hermione 1969

Even David Bowie had his heart broken… this devastated and intimate missive to his ex Hermione Farthingale doesn’t hold back on just how pained he was. Almost Dylanesque in title and execution, it’s short, heart-rending and beautiful.

41. Modern Love 1983

As pure pop as Bowie ever got, but as cool as you would expect a Bowie/Nile Rodgers collaboration to be. From the opening bars and the ‘I know when to go out’ spoken words, it’s unstoppable.

40. Time 1973

Camp,,theatrical and melodramatic, Bowie claimed he tried to write down all his thoughts about time and ended up writing a gay love song. As in some of his other material, strong elements of musical theatre here.

39. Saviour Machine 1970

Here’s Bowie writing about the dangers of artifical intelligence back in 1970; file with his warnings in later life about the d.angers of the internet. Another portentous song presenting another terrifying future; in common with much of The Man Who Sold The World, this is Bowie’s sound at its heaviest.

38. It’s No Game (Part. 1) 1980

I could cheat and pair it with Part 2: the two versions bookend the brilliant Scary Monsters album. This is wild: Bowie screams out the words while a Japanese woman (actress Michi Hirota) narrates. It almost shouldn’t work, but it does, spectacularly. Part 2 is calmer, but you kind of miss Michi.

37. We Are The Dead 1974

The more I write about Bowie, the more post-apocalyptic songs and scenarios emerge. This is Bowie at his most melodramatic and windswept: there’s a camp sadness to the verse and then a mild hysteria to the largely spoken chorus. Like Ziggy Stardust, the Diamond Dogs album suggests a start-to-end narrative and this is a key part of it. Who needs Orwell when Bowie makes the future even scarier?

36. Wild Is The Wind 1976

Thankfully, Bowie’s cover was modelled on Nina Simone’s rather than the Johnny Mathis original…one of his very best vocal performances, he just belts the life out of a glorious romantic ballad. The perfect closer to Station To Station.

35. You Feel So Lonely You Could Die 2013

The absolute chutzpah, the style, of stealing his own intro and ending to the iconic Five Years on an album which also lifted the Heroes cover. I always interpreted The Next Day as an ageing Thin White Duke getting his comeuppance in later life: this song is a brutal tale suggesting exactly that, an ageing war criminal being tracked down and brutally punished.

34. The Stars (Are Out Tonight) 2013

Viintage Bowie indie rock from The Next Day, the song takes a sardonic swipe at people’s obsession with celebrities and the fickle nature of celebrity-fan relationships.

33. Absolute Beginners 1986

Now here is a love song. Bowie didn’t write that many and the mid-80s was not his finest hour, but this is up there with the greats – both his and the other great love songs. Theme song to a medicore movie, but goodness me, it’s a tune. ‘I absolutely love you’ – indeed.

32. Moonage Daydream 1972

The song that introduces the Ziggy Stardust character, a bisexual alien rock star landing on earth. It’s big, dramatic and glam: Mick Ronson in great form on guitar and Bowie never in better voice.

31. Quicksand (1971)

Dark and beautiful, this captures early Bowie at his most poetic and melancholic: ‘Don’t believe in yourself, Don’t deceive with belief, Knowledge comes with death’s release’. Gorgeous.

30. The Man Who Sold The World 1970

There is something haunting and menacing about this song that belies its gentle accoustic delivery. It’s a story, but a dark and mysterious one. Only really got the recognition it deserved after Lulu covered it; Nirvana did the third best version. Not sure who ‘the man’ is, but the words always make me think of Judas.

29. Kooks 1971

A real surprise this, Bowie at his most Anthony Newley singing to his newborn son. ”If the homework brings you down, then we’ll throw it on the fire and take the car down town’. Sweet, sentimental and an anthem for every wannabe cool parent ever.

28. Soul Love 1972

One of Bowie’s unheralded greats. Explores the notion of undying love through the eyes of a grieving mother, a loved up young couple and religious mania. ‘Love is careless in its choosing, Sweeping over cross and baby, Love descends on those defenceless‘. Majestic.

27. Fame 1975

As funky as Bowie gets and one of the big songs on maybe his first big reinvention, moving from glam rock to plastic soul on the Young Americans album. John Lennon contributed and delivered the high backing vocal that arguably takes the song from good to great and gets a writing credit as a result; this became Bowie’s first US number 1.

26. After All 1970

Another of the curious but highly addictive ones, this sinister ballad sounds like childhood dreams gone horribly wrong. Implied references to Nietzche and Aleister Crowley don’t reduce the darkness, but the song is sung gently and sadly and the arrangement is almost a waltz.

25. Blackstar 2016

Bowie departs with a classic leftfield and experimental turn: this whole album is both groundbreaking and in places hard to bear, as the great man confronts his mortality. The epic title track combines jazz, art rock, drum and bass and acid house and the fusion is astonishing, the lyrics deeply moving: ‘Something happened on the day he died’ and ‘On the day of execution’ make it clear what’s on his mind.

24. Panic In Detroit 1973

Bowie once said Aladdin Sane was a result of his paranoia with America and nowhere is that more evident than in this driven rocker, featuring images of revolutionaries, alienation, violence and mayhem. Like the soundtrack to a riot.

23. Space Oddity 1969

Bowie’s initial breakthrough became synonmous with the moon landings but it has much more to offer than timing: it’s eerie and almost plaintive throughout, the sense of a man in space who is scared, alienated and unsure why he is there. Iconic; the legend really starts here.

22. Sorrow 1973

Taken from the covers album PinUps and easily its standout. A simple 60s love song previously recorded by The McCoys and The Merseys, Bowie glams it into a massive hit record and the best of his cover versions down the years.

21. Oh! You Pretty Things 1971

The first song recorded for Hunky Dory so it may be the debut of the band that became the Spiders From Mars. With futuristic lyrics about homo sapiens being replaced by the ‘homo superior’ ; it seems to nod to novels like The Midwich Cuckoos and has obvious appeal to rebellious 1970s teens: ‘Don’t you know you’re driving your mamas and papas insane?’

20. Rebel Rebel 1974

Maybe the straightest rock n roll tune he ever did, this has a riff and a pop rock chorus to die for: a timeless and androgynous glam rock anthem. Classic.

19. Let’s Dance 1983

That huge Nile Rodgers intro, that funky riff and Bowie’s voice at its most cool and powerful. A glorious pop song that topped the charts on both sides of the Atlantic.

18. Lazarus 2016

It feels almost too coincidental that the single that was out when Bowie died started with the soon to be devastating words ‘Look up here, I’m in Heaven’. Another song from Blackstar where he openly faces his own death. ‘I’ve got scars that can’t be seen’ ‘You know I’ll be free’ and even a fearful ‘Look up here man, I’m in danger’. Powerful if crushingly sad.

17. The Jean Genie 1973

A stomping, floor-filling rocker and a Bowie classic, it was apparently inspired by Iggy Pop with a slight reference to author Jean Genet. The riff is exactly the same as Sweet’s Blockbuster, which came out slightly later, but the similarity is acknowledged as a coincidental. Blockbuster topped the charts, whereas this iconic masterpiece was kept off number one by Little Jimmy Osmond’s Long-Haired Lover From Liverpool. Honestly.

16. All The Madmen 1970

Another song potentially inspired by his brother, it’s a song about insanity, asylums and isolation. It starts slow and gentle then bursts into a sweeping rock chorus: ‘I’d rather stay here with all the madmen, Than perish with the sad men roaming free’. Almost One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest in a song.

15. Queen Bitch 1971

Inspired by the Velvet Underground and one of glam rock’s finest tunes, it tells the story of a man who seeks out hookups after the singer rejects his advances. Camp, sexual and sharply witty words, ramped up guitars and a massive chorus, it’s cool, immediate and brilliant.

14. Young Americans 1975

The sudden change in sound was almost like Dylan going electric, but what a way to introduce the world to Bowie’s take on soul and funk. Loosely a story of uncertain newly weds, it throws in references to American teen life, disappointing sex and President Nixon. It’s more observational than apocalyptic and a wholly different sound to his previous work, with saxophone up front and centre in the arrangement and a notable change in his voice. His relentless singing in the end section ‘You ain’t a pimp and you ain’t a hustler…’ lifts an already great record to new levels.

13. Changes 1971

The iconic opener to Hunky Dory became a sort of theme song for the artist and an obvious title for compilations. It addresses both his own creative struggles at the time and tensions between generations – ‘Where’s your shame, You’ve left us up to our necks in it?’. And of course ‘Ch-ch-ch changes…’ is a great Bowie moment as the chorus kicks in.

12. Sound and Vision 1977

Low represented perhaps the most astonishing change of direction of all; Bowie working with Brian Eno in Berlin to create an entirely new sound that must have alarmed his marketeers at the time. While this is easily that seminal album’s most commercial song, it is a tune that would stand out in any era; that then unique drum sound, the ‘Blue, blue, electric blue’ chorus and the long intro before his voice kicks in with ‘Don’t you wonder sometimes‘ are quite stunning. While it’s essentially a song about Bowie’s depression and need for isolation as he battles his addictions, it’s an upbeat firecracker of a tune.

11. Golden Years 1976

Bowie stages a funk and soul disco on a track that bridges Young Americans and Station to Station; the post-glam Bowie is now in full flow. When he occasionally dips into romance, like with almost anything he dips into, he does it better than most: ‘I’ll stick with you baby for a thousand years, Nothing’s gonna touch you in these golden years’. Tremendous from start to finish, both musically and lyrically.

10. Ziggy Stardust 1972

The actual story of Ziggy and what happened to him, filling in the gaps other songs hint at. It’s Bowie at his storytelling best, with that fabulous riff and the Spiders on Mars on fire. Glorious.

9. Cygnet Committee 1969

It pains me that this nine-minute epic is so little recognised, because it’s truly one of the best songs Bowie or anyone else ever wrote. Another dystopian story about a failed revolution that ultimately makes things worse, it makes disparaging references to the hippy dreams of the 60s and seemingly to relgious faith and zeal: ‘We can force you to be free And we can force you to believe’ and ‘I will kill for the good of the fight for the right to be right’. Another builder; it starts slowly and gently, but never without an air of threat – and powers towards an end of Bowie repeatedly screaming ‘I want to live’. If you haven’t heard it, you really should.

8. Suffragette City 1972

A blinding rock n roll song that storms in from the opening guitar riff and never lets up: the Velvets meet Little Richard and party wildly. The Spiders excel again and Bowie is at his most rocking and suggestive; that fake ending with ‘Wham bam, thank you ma’am’ is inspired and the whole thing roars along and takes you with it. If you don’t love this, I’m not sure music is for you.

7. Ashes To Ashes 1980

Major Tom is back, but he’s an addict now and floating aimlessly in space. This was one of the first songs I heard as a teen that actually stunned me; its lyrics, the synthesised guitar sound, the awesome accompanying video and Bowie’s voice combined to produce something that was not like anything else I was listening to. I loved it and it probably sparked my love of Bowie and my trawl through his back catalogue. Bowie said once that this song was about the end of the space age dream: there had not really been any point to putting man up there in the first place. The words also reflect his earlier struggle with addiction.

6. Sweet Thing/Candidate/Sweet Thing Reprise 1974

The centrepiece of the dystopian world of Diamond Dogs this is really one song in three parts. Bowie’s voice is deeper that any point hitherto as he tells the dark, dramatic story of a world descended into chaos: fake streets full of drug dealers, sex in doorways and anarchic hedonism. It’s bleak, seedy, scary and magnificent.

5. Five Years 1972

Bowie in storytelling mode again and guess what, things are not looking good for humanity! The news that the Earth will die in five years’ time is seen through the reactions of various characters – some hysterical, some violent, some simply devastated – and one ‘smiling and waving’ from an ice cream parlour – ‘I don’t think you knew you were in the song’. A fabulous opener to the peerless Ziggy Stardust album.

4. Starman 1972

Bowie’s second coming; the performance of this song on Top of the Pops catapulted him into public consciousness after a few lean years and arguably represents his real breakthrough. It’s a brilliant song and concept, the alien Ziggy communicating with teens through the radio and them being both excited and scared to tell their parents. ‘He’d like to come and meet us, but he thinks he’d blow our minds’. Well, he kind of did from this point onwards.

3. Heroes 1977

This has become maybe his most iconic song since he performed it at Live Aid; it’s amazing to think that while it was well reviewed, it was a fairly minor top 20 hit at the time and seen as part of Bowie’s continued experimentation in Berlin. The story, about star-crossed lovers meeting by the Berlin Wall, was recently revealed by an ex girlfriend to be about a day she spent with Bowie in the city https://www.theguardian.com/music/article/2024/sep/06/bowie-song-heroes-inspired-by-stars-day-with-girlfriend-new-documentary-says. It’s powerful, passionate and anthemic: who could not be inspired by the idea that we can all be heroes, just for one day?

2. Life On Mars? 1971

I’ve said before this was the first song to give me goosebumps as a child. As happened a few times with Bowie, it was like nothing else I’d ever heard. Rick Wakeman’s dramatic piano, the rising strings and the way the chorus kicks in with ‘Saaaaail-oors fighting on the dancefloor – oh man, look at those cavemen go‘ – just wow. Another chord sequence nicked – this time from My Way – it’s an upgrade on Sinatra’s anthem and just one of those songs that sets Bowie apart.

1. Rock n Roll Suicide 1972

Goodness me. I still remember hearing for this for the first time and being blown away. There has never really been another song like it and I contend there is no other song as good. From the almost chilled opening ‘Time takes a cigarette’ to the build up of chev breaks snarling as the protagonist stumbles across the road, to that point where it all changes and Bowie bellows ‘Oh no love, you’re not alone!’ … And now it gets melodramtic and hysterical and Bowie is screaming ‘Give me your hands!’ and it feels like somehow a song has broken the fourth wall, and Ziggy/Bowie is there with you and ‘you’re wonderful‘. And now, we know for sure, because that abrupt and beautiful ending is the coda: Ziggy is dead. This is just a fantastic , overhelming and life-affirming piece of music.

So there we have it. If nothing else, I hope this list has inspired you to listen again to some of these great tunes. Here’s the full set on a Spotify playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/523lMFN33RGyzOjvh1FdMz?si=J_YDPoc-QYiHKhtZgkKwhA&pi=e-7Nky-wiYSyC5

Best of the best: Beatles albums ranked

It’s not as remarkable as it seems that The Beatles continue to top ‘best band of all time’ polls over 60 years since they first burst on to the scene. Not only were they the first real rock band, they also set the tone for what came afterwards, moving from blinding rock n roll songs to astonishingly inventive, innovative music that changed the face of not just pop music but western culture. And it’s not just that many of the tropes of rock and pop were invented by the Fab Four, it’s that the songs and albums more than stand the test of time – and are still being sung by teens today. Put simply, they top the polls because they are the best band of all time – and it’s starting to look like they always will be.

Ranking the work of great artists is always a fool’s errand – everyone will disagree somewhere, often vociferously – so let me be clear that this is my very personal ranking of their studio albums from weakest to greatest. And let me also be clear that if I do this again next week, the order will probably change.

12. Yellow Submarine. It’s debatable that this should be included at all – the soundtrack to the animated film of the same name was viewed by the band as a contractual obligation released between two absolute classics: The Beatles (aka the White Album) and Abbey Road. Side two is not even the band: it’s George’s Martin’s score from the movie – and the album contains only four new Beatles songs, alongside the previously released title track and All You Need Is Love. It’s an easy enough listen – All You Need Is Love is obviously a classic and Hey Bulldog and Only A Northern Song are decent – even the orchestral score is nice. But it’s hard to count it as a proper Beatles album.

11. Beatles For Sale. Their fourth album is typical of the early mix of originals and covers, perhaps a bit more downbeat than the albums that preceded it. At the time it continued their emerging legend and has some truly great moments. including Eight Days A Week, their belting cover of Rock and Roll Music and sombre Lennon tunes I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party and I’m A Loser. It’s only as low as #11 because they did greater albums.

10. With The Beatles. Different times: the Beatles’ second album came out in the same year as their first and finds the new sensations fresh, raucus and lively. Standouts include All My Loving, It Won’t Be Long and some of their best early covers: Please Mr Postman, Money (That’s What I Want) and Roll Over Beethoven. The first two Beatles albums feel like a live set put on to vinyl: you get a genuine sense of how thrilling and astonishing it must have been to see them on stage.

9. Let It Be. Released after the split but recorded before Abbey Road, this album was a notoriously difficult one to make, with tensions between the group running high. The production tweaks from Phil Spector infuriated McCartney and were cited in the band’s break-up. Nonetheless, there are some stone cold classics here and much to love: the brilliant title track is maybe the ultimate McCartney standard and how can you not love a collection that includes Across The Universe, Get Back and The Long And Winding Road, not to mention less celebrated tunes like Two Of Us, I’ve Got A Feeling and Dig A Pony. Maybe not as coherent as some of their albums, but a great listen – and I’d argue McCartney’s rearranged version, Let It Be …Naked is even better.

8. Please Please Me. One-two-three-FOUR! What an intro, what a sound, what a time to be alive. Those of us who recall the sensation of punk when it first emerged have nothing on those who were there when rock n roll bands really became a thing. This album bounces of the walls even today: goodness knows what people made of it at the time; I guess the sensation was similar to first hearing Elvis, but this time with a whole band that played and wrote their own songs, had a distinctive look and sound – one might almost call it a brand – and seemed to change pop culture at the drop of a hat. It is hard to cite this as just a great debut album; it’s the debut of a whole movement that would change western society forever. To open with I Saw Her Standing There and end with a rampaging Twist and Shout – with a fabulous mix of originals and covers in between – it’s just blistering. The title track, their cover of Chains and Do You Want To Know A Secret? also stand out, but being there at the time must have been astonishing.

7. Help! Their fifth album finds them fully in their stride and contains some of their very finest tunes: Yesterday, Ticket To Ride, You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away, The Night Before, I’ve Just Seen A Face and Help! itself, a classic which has occasionally made my Desert Island discs. Also written as a soundtrack to the movie of the same name, it’s just a rollicking good collection of tunes – and of course the title track reflects Lennon’s bewilderment and panic in the midst of Beatlemania.

6. The Beatles. Also known as the White Album. Ok, I can sense a few diehards parting company with me here and there is definitely a case for this being higher,as it contains many works of genius. It would be higher if they’d been a bit more strict with the songs they included: there are maybe five or six fillers that aren’t needed and Revolution 9 is the sort of thing that could have been sneaked out as a joke on some rare b-side. Don’t get me wrong, I love the album, but some quality control could have put it in the top 2 or 3. Standouts for me are the divine Blackbird, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Sexy Sadie, Julia, Back In The USSR, Helter Skelter, Mother Nature’s Son, Glass Onion…I could probably go on. They’d emerged by now as an entirely different proposition but an equally explosive and influential one.

5. A Hard Day’s Night. This is a near perfect early Beatles album and I wanted to get one from the early years in the top 5. It’s also the soundtrack to a film and it’s the first album with songs written entirely by the band, with George emerging as a formidable writer alongside Lennon and McCartney. Another astonishing opening – that opening chord to the title track – and just so much to love alongside it – Can’t Buy Me Love, I Should Have Known Better, If I Fell, And I Love Her – and arguably their most sophisticated track to date, Things We Said Today. (We had that at my wedding, doncha know?)

4. Abbey Road. It kind of becomes impossible at this stage of ranking as nearly everything is brilliant. This one maybe loses a tiny bit of ground due to the silliness of Maxwell’s Silver Hammer and Octopus’s Garden but there is a case for the medley on side 2 that starts with You Never Give Me Your Money and ends with, well, The End, being the finest moment in their recording history. Also includes my favourite Beatles song, Something and another Harrison classic, Here Comes The Sun along with the seminal Come Together. And THAT iconic album cover.

3. Rubber Soul. This was my favourite Beatles album for a long time: it’s an outstanding collection of songs that hangs together so coherently that Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys thought it had raised the bar of what an album could be – almost inventing the concept of an album as a piece of art in itself and reducing the focus on singles. It’s a another huge leap forward in the band’s development and ability to lead the way by some distance. Again, lots of standouts: Norwegian Wood, Nowhere Man, In My Life, Girl, Drive My Car, Michelle. Also includes Harrison’s spectacularly underrated and underplayed If I Needed Someone and one of my favourite Ringo singalongs, What Goes On? The first Beatles album I listened to properly and the first one I loved.

2. Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Like the Beatles topping best band polls, there are good reasons why this is often voted the greatest album. In truth its ubiquity in the polls often sees it marked down in lists like this and it’s been as low as #5 in my previous rankings, but you just can’t get away from the fact that this a massive moment in pop music and popular culture: it’s the moment rock n roll became something else entirely. Way beyond the ‘silly love songs’ McCartney would later celebrate in another great pop song, this feels like the start of art rock as a mainstream thing. The creativity and invention in the production is staggering – A Day In The Life is many people’s favourite Beatles tune and it’s hard to see the antecedents for such a song. She’s Leaving Home is sad and beautiful, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds is maybe the trippiest tune the world had heard at that point. The title track and the way it segues into With A Little Help From My Friends – ok, Ringo surpasses What Goes On? here – plus dreamy village green vignettes like Being For The Benefit Of Mr Kite and Fixing A Hole – even the music hall throwback, When I’m 64 – it’s just one good song after another. Above all. it’s a leap of creativity and innovation that probably no-one saw coming.

1.Revolver. Best of the best – and when you look at the list it tops, that’s no mean achievement. If there are really three distinct phases of The Beatles – the raw n raunchy rock/pop love songs, the trippy hippy invention and the mid-period that joins the two, my top 3 suggests the mid-period is my favourite of all. I recognise others will take a different view. This is a perfect album and probably the one you’d use to introduce the Fab Four to someone who had been hiding under a rock all their lives. It’s probably also the template for the Britpop rockers of the 90s. Tomorrow Never Knows just comes from another dimension, the first time any artist had played music backwards in the studio for effect – unquestionably a song that changed music and maybe a clue to the invention to come on Sgt Pepper. The whole album is studded with timeless classics , hanging together much as Rubber Soul had – this concept of the rock album now fully in its stride. Hard to leave out anything – though Yellow Submarine is not everyone’s favourite, it works well here – but absolute standouts include Eleanor Rigby, Here There And Everywhere, For No-one, And Your Bird Can Sing, Got To Get You Into My Life, I’m Only Sleeping, I Want To Tell You – but I am still leaving out songs that are among their greatest. An absolute masterpiece.

So there we have it. We will never agree this order – I am not sure I even agree with myself now I’ve written it. But let’s agree this: The Beatles were a phenomenon that probably won’t be surpassed in popular music. We rightly celebrate them alongside the very greatest artists in any genre.

Who killed the Champions League?

The Champions League – successor to the old European Cup, in which the champions of each European country competed to be champions of Europe – had a controversial start. The inclusion of multiple teams from the same countries gave the lie to its name: it was no longer made up of champions. You could finish third or fourth in your league and still be declared European champions a year later. The format favoured the ‘stronger’ nations with multiple places and as it became a cash cow for those teams, it entrenched and deepened inequality as the rich got richer, weakening competition in domestic leagues as well as European competition. Like the Premier League, it was a takeover by the money men, driven by global TV and advertising revenues over the needs and preferences of match-going football supporters.

All that said, it was a huge success both on its own terms and in terms of high quality football and drama. It became without question the highest level of elite football – streets ahead of the World Cup in terms of quality – and it served up some impossibly exciting ties which never seemed to be over. Witness Real Madrid v Man City, the Man United-Bayern Munich final in 1999 (“Football, bloody hell!”) and the dramas closest to my own heart, that crazy final in Istanbul in 2005 or Liverpool’s even more impossible comeback against Barcelona in the 2019 semi.

It was, to coin a tiresome phrase, box office. It was true that the group stages were at their most exciting when there was a big match up or we had reached the stage of teams potentially going out. But in eight groups of four teams, all playing each other home and away, it did feel like most games mattered to some degree. A couple of disappointing results could very easily see a team exit the competition.

It seems incredible that you can have this near perfect , high quality competition – from the often tight group stages to the drama of the knock out rounds – and somehow contrive to make it boring. But that is what UEFA – and greedy big clubs who couldn’t make their ill-conceived dream of a European Super League happen – have managed to do.

We now have a single group of 36 teams, who don’t even play against each other but all play eight games – eight games – against different levels of opponent, at home or away. The upshot of that drawn out process is that a mere 12 of the 36 teams are eliminated. The top eight of in the so-called ‘league’ go through the the last 16 while the remaining 16 teams compete for a place in it via further knockout round. It’s a good job players and coaches aren’t already complaining of too much football leading to burnout.

The effect of the new format has immediately become clear: too many games, too little jeopardy. Man City dropping a point at home to Inter might have shaped a group in the old world: in the new one, they have 7 more games against random opponents and would have to perform quite badly – maybe even at the level of their Manchester neighbours – to find themselves at any risk of going out.

The Champions League has given me some of my best moments as a fan, but even I opted out of watching Liverpool win against tough opponents in Leipzig last week – I had a better offer and Liverpool winning their first three games, while impressive, doesn’t especially raise excitement or expectations in such a drawn-out competition. The whole thing feels moribund, even if we are talking Liverpool playing Madrid or Arsenal meeting PSG – it has none of the risk or rhythm of the old group stages and losing a game here or there probably won’t matter. If the aim was to create more excitement, more dead rubbers seems to be the outcome.

Part of the problem is that, contrary to what Real Madrid and Barcelona think, most fans don’t want endless match-ups against them. Those big European ties were always a garnish on top of the week-in week out rivalries of the domestic leagues. It might be the case that the Champions League-enriched teams have become tiresomely dominant in their own countries, but one reason a European Super League doesn’t quicken the pulse of anyone but TV executives and people who never go to games live is that fans are a critical part of the spectacle. And most of them don’t want to spend their lives and earnings travelling across Europe to watch their teams. As an occasional treat, European football is great, but we don’t crave it every week.

Of course, the audience for the Champions League is overwhelmingly a TV audience and that audience exists way beyond Europe. The target for all of these bloated tournaments – the new European competitions, the expanded World Cup, the abomination that is the new Club World Cup and the beyond pointless international Nations League that so tediously disrupts our domestic games so frequently – is televisual. The revenue comes from TV companies and advertising, not match-going supporters. As an almost exclusively armchair fan these days, maybe I should be pleased. But I’m not. I’m bored. Bored of too much football and depressingly aware that ludicrously packed schedules will severely dilute the quality of the product and lead to more injuries and burnout.

Whether this sentiment is shared by TV audiences in countries where most fans never attend European football matches in real life may be a factor in whether the dreary new format persists. If TV viewers switch off owing to the interminable games without consequence, TV execs will soon reconsider what they are willing to pay. I don’t know whether most football fans want a diet of football without jeopardy – I doubt it, but maybe endless Madrid v City clashes have more appeal than I think. In the end, I find myself hoping that viewing figures for the opening stages collapse, as that may be the only way to force a rethink.

This week, Liverpool face Bayer Leverkusen, with Anfield legend Xabi Alonso returning to his old haunt as manager of the German club. Manchester City face Sporting Lisbon, managed by the man who will soon manage Manchester United. Two ‘box office’ games on paper, but the results will be nowhere near as consequential as they would have been if they were group games last year. I’ll watch the Liverpool game without that sense of defeat being near disaster or a win a huge step forward. It all feels just a bit too inconsequential. UEFA and the money men have made the Champions League not so much ‘box office’ as a bit dull.

Photo: Sky Sports

Time to join the Twitter quitters

It was fun at first. A novelty, being able to communicate with the world in 140-word soundbites, to share our passing, pithy, wannabe witty thoughts. It brought people together, was a good place to chat about football and music. It quickly became the quickest source of news and if you got your following strategy right, it took you straight to all the articles you wanted to read. It was occasionally tetchy, often funny. It was addictive too, and I soon found myself spending too much time on Twitter, too embroiled in silly arguments about everything from sport to politics.

Over the years, it changed. As more people came online, the old etiquettes started to fracture. As algorithms became increasingly sophisticated, people started to split into tribes. Debate became polarised; sharing opinions on some issues suddenly required unanimity on all. Cancel culture and doxxing made the discussions ever more toxic. Then Elon Musk arrived and started un-banning people who had spread hate and misinformation; the algorithms changed again until a large proportion of the content I saw seemed to fit one or both of those categories. Then a set of horrific child murders took place in Southport and Twitter was up front and centre in circulating lies about the suspect’s identity, leading directly to racist rioting on British streets.

If it wasn’t already all over, it is now.

I understand why people use X – the malevolent version of an already toxified site – and for the same reasons, I still will to a degree. It remains the quickest source of news and of reaching some of the content across multiple publications that I would like to read. It can be helpful professionally. But I can’t in all conscience continue to scream into that toxic void: I won’t be tweeting, retweeting or ‘liking’ anything on X. As of today, I’m a Twitter quitter.

Bully for me I know; it’s not like it will make an iota of difference whether or not Rory from the UK is providing his latest hot take or pointless anecdote. My hope is that if regulation cannot address the real and present danger that X and other social media provides, some of our leading institutions and celebrities will also soon walk away and start the endgame for the site. It’s surely only the absence of a viable alternative that has prevented that happening already. Advertisers are already withdrawing in their droves.

As some of my friends have pointed out, X and other social media are only part of the problem. A big one in the case of the UK riots – and a number of platforms have been able to unite sinister and malevolent forces that would otherwise have remained isolated. But social media has amplified a trend where politicians, journalists and others deliberately generate and give credence to blatant lies. Call it ‘fake news’ if you like, but Donald Trump and others have ushered in an era where your own ‘alternative facts’, if repeated often enough (and amplified via social media) can compete with and even replace the truth.

There is no question that social media has fuelled and enabled this trend, but it did not create it. An era in which everyone has their own truth is a frightening and dangerous one: liberty and democracy are under genuine threat if the word of demagogues and their mouthpieces become established fact in the eyes of millions. Witness the events of January 6 in the US or the last week in the UK: both propelled by deliberate and widely shared falsehoods.

But social media is the engine by which these untruths reach millions. The lack of responsibility taken by social media companies and their resistance to regulation has to be addressed urgently. The glee with which Elon Musk is cheering on the misinformers may be specific to X, but there are other platforms where there is little or no moderation and where lies, conspiracy theories and plots to commit violence and terrorism are easily shared and advanced. Social media has grown up as a free-for-all with no regulation: that can’t be allowed to continue. Even our biased press is subject to some rules and sanctions.

On the bright side, quitting Twitter has made me think more widely about the control my phone exerts over my life. I’ve today deleted both the X app and the Facebook app; I may access them when I need to but scrolling socials is no longer going to be my default response to a break in conversation or an idle moment on a journey. I’ve got out of the habit of reading books regularly – let me have your recommendations! -I don’t exercise enough. I probably don’t converse or socialise enough. All these things become more possible without endless doom scrolling.

So if I have one thing to thank the dreadful Elon for, it’s inspiring me to a digital detox that I hope will be life-changing. I’m afraid that I’ll probably still continue to blog occasionally – maybe I will even write more – but hopefully that’s a small price to pay.

Southgate’s not the one

In the final analysis, at least we are spared the books, the seminars, even an update to the enjoyable if slightly deluded play. Because make no mistake, that is where we were headed. What lessons can we learn from Gareth Southgate’s success in winning an international tournament? was going to be the question and management consultants everywhere were going to be holding up the now benighted Sir Gareth as having developed a model of leadership transferable to banks, public services and FTSE 100 companies. Maybe the man himself could even have followed Adrian Moorhouse on to that particular gravy train.

And alongside Southgate: the management webinar would sit the myth of Southgate: the unfairly maligned. A man who stuck to his guns, who kept his head when all about them were losing theirs. It was already starting to happen after England finally turned up for a game – or half a game – against the Netherlands at Euro 24. ‘Put some respect on his name’ we were told, as Southgate’s record in international tournaments was trumpeted as evidence that he was maybe England’s best ever manager. And as Ollie Watkins’ brilliant late goal finally gave the nation a “football’s coming home” moment after several mediocre displays, people were starting to deny the evidence of their own eyes – hope and joy can do strange things to you.

It is of course a fact that technically, only one England manager has a better record in international tournaments than Gareth Southgate and he is the guy that won the World Cup. It’s also a fact that only a handful of nations have ever won international silverware and that it’s a bloody difficult thing to do, however good your players – because, get this, other teams have good players too. And it is hard not to like Southgate the man – he’s intelligent, considered and seemingly an all round decent individual. But none of these facts or qualities make him a great manager, or even a particularly good one.

Yes, that record looks good on paper. Since winning the World Cup in 1966, England had not made another final and had made only two semi-finals. Southgate has made two finals and one semi, taking England closer to glory than any manager since Sir Alf Ramsey. But is this due to inspired tactics and leadership, or to an outstanding crop of players and – let’s be honest – the luck of the draw?

The only major teams England have knocked out of tournaments under Southgate are Germany and the Netherlands. At Euro 24, only late moments of magic from individuals saved them from going out to Slovakia and Switzerland, and another inspired late strike beat the Netherlands. The old tradition of England losing to the first really good team they play – whether Croatia, Italy, France or Spain – has not really been overturned, they have just played them later.

Southgate was lucky to get the England job just ahead of, or in some cases during, the emergence of a number of generational English talents – Bellingham, Kane, Foden, Saka, Rice and the criminally under-used Alexander Arnold. We might not talk of golden generations any more, but this clearly is one. It is certainly a team you would expect to get past most of the opponents it did to reach the afore-mentioned finals and semi-finals. While the grim Roy Hodgson era admittedly saw a less gifted line up going out to Iceland, England’s modern record prior to that consisted of narrow exits, most often on penalties, against teams like Argentina, Brazil, Italy, Germany and Portugal

Those coming close to demanding apologies for criticisms of England’s performances prior to the semi-final at the 2024 Euros are deluded. Southgate went into an easy group with excessively cautious tactics, was almost entirely reactive in changing things that were clearly not working, misused and then discarded Alexander Arnold and persisted with players who were clearly out of form (Kane, Walker, Foden) at the expense of those clearly ready to make an impact (Palmer, Watkins and the virtually unused Gordon and Toney). Moments of individual genius rescued him twice; let’s give credit where due for sending on Watkins for another against the Netherlands.

England got to the final with their one decent performance of the competition and even that was largely confined to the first half. Jordan Pickford hoofing long balls like it was 1974, no movement up front and too many players behind the ball until England were losing characterised most of their tournament, and was the approach again in the final, where their luck ran out against a very good Spain team.

It is tempting to imagine what an England side managed by a less cautious coach would look like. Would a Jurgen Klopp – or even an Eddie Howe – set up in a 4-2-3-1 defensive formation against Slovenia? Would they find room for creative talents like Palmer and Alexander Arnold, and make more use of the pace of Watkins and Gordon? Would they over-rely on a teenage midfielder whose team had been overrun in that area all season, or use him as an impact sub? Would they take a spare left back if their first choice had not played for five months, or rely on an ageing right-footed player who was never that good at his peak?

I like Gareth Southgate as most people do, but the disappointment of another final defeat is maybe a price worth paying for avoiding the mythology that was about to develop around him. He tried his best, he got lucky with the players he had at his disposal and with the draw in tournaments. But it might not be the worst thing for football that his dated, reactive and negative tactics didn’t bring football home.

Imagine…on tragedy chants at football games

Imagine your child, parent, sibling or friend went to a football match and died. Crushed to death in the most horrific manner imaginable. Imagine that for years, the authorities made a huge and concerted effort to cover up the cause of their death, to blame your loved one and their fellow supporters. Imagine that, as is often the case, the truth eventually came out, entirely exonerating the dead and other supporters and exposing a cover-up and false narrative as scandalous as any in UK history. Imagine finding that they did not die by accident, but were unlawfully killed due to inept policing and planning.

Imagine going to a football match, or watching it on TV, and hearing supporters of other clubs singing songs taunting you about your grief, blaming your loved one and their fellow supporters in moronic and tribal denial of the facts. Imagine the choking gestures and the songs growing ever louder the better the team your loved one supported is doing.

Imagine that every time your loved one’s team wins a trophy or a big match, the tragedy in which they were involved trends on social media. Imagine the moral contortions of people claiming that the chants do not relate to the tragedy in which your loved one was unlawfully killed, but to another tragedy in which fans of another team were killed, for which your supporters were rightly blamed and prosecuted. Imagine people seeming not to understand the meaning of the word ‘always’ or the pain their grief taunting is causing. Imagine people justifying the chants on the basis that fans of the team your loved one supports have been guilty of vile tragedy chants of their own in the past.

Imagine the authorities finally start to act, arresting and charging some of the worst offenders picked up by TV cameras or CCTV. Imagine a handful of people are banned from grounds, while crowds of thousands seem to go unpunished. Imagine welcome punishments and crowd bans for clubs and countries whose fans are guilty of racism, while no sanction is made against those whose fanbases continue to taunt and revel in your grief.

Imagine our sanctimonious football authorities, self-righteous clubs and thick, tribal supporters all agreed enough was enough. Just imagine.

Picture: Nottingham Forest banner against tragedy chanting