The Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews

Tuesday 24 August 2021

Dutty Wine

 


I’ve been meaning to get this necklace for ages! It's from Omolola Jewellery and it is glorious!

Pre the global pyramid, right about now, I'd have been umming and ahhing about going to Carnival on the Bank Holiday. The first Caribbean Carnival was established by the epic Claudia Jones to celebrate West Indians in London. The same people who had been invited to the U.K. as British Citizens to rebuild the decimated country after it had been bombed to dust. They came with scotch bonnets. With plantain. With spices and seasoning and music and style and culture! Imagine leaving the balmy warmth of the Caribbean to come to cold rainy racist England and not even have the food you like? Yikes. At the very least, they had one another and thought, "We're fucking amazing! Let’s have a street party! No let’s make it a carnival! A carnival like the way we would back home! Embrace how fucking amazing we actually are!" (Watch Steve McQueen's Small Axe series!)

Notting Hill Carnival was thus born in West London and before Richard Curtis got his sticky fingers in the area, it was very much (like most of ‘urban’ London) where you went to party, to hear those steel pans, to smell the jerk oil drum smoke, chew on some sugar cane, jump and wave to dancehall, to eat and drink, to feel the joy of a culture that has tsunami’d across the world. Where else would John Boyega “catch wines”?!? 


And it was always basically on my doorstep! But then… We all got a bit of Carnival fatigue. The weather would never be good enough. There would always be too many people and you would never find your friends where you’d say you’d meet. The food began to be ever more expensive and the police presence more oppressive. Reality tv stars would go for street cred (I saw Proudlock from Made In Chelsea one year and told myself not to go any more!) And yet, on a Monday afternoon, I’d find myself on the tube, shuffling behind people in Jamaican flag print dresses, with whistles around their necks and vuvuzelas blasting at the tube platform to join my fellow carnival goers. 


No one would ever assume that I’m anything other than very African, so I would feel free to wear prints, huge Ghana flag earrings, paint a Black star on my wrist as a symbol of my patriotism to my motherland and found myself even more embraced by my West Indian family. You can’t tell me that doing “tunderclap!” simultaneously with fifty other people isn’t anything other than exhilarating!


I’m truly going to miss it again this year, probably more than last year because we’ve had a taste of freedom. It’s too great of an open air festival to risk apparently (didn’t stop masses from gathering during England’s World Cup run but let’s not talk about that disgraceful episode). 


So for a variety of reasons, one being bad ass from For The Last Time Paris Amihere and her outline tattoo of Ghana and the other being I couldn’t find any Ghana flag earrings, I bought this necklace. That way I keep the spirit of carnival as close as Ghana to my heart. 

Carnival 2022 will be a madness and I can’t wait! 


Happy Bank Holiday!! 

Tuesday 3 August 2021

Island in the Sun


Sigh. Collectively, we really need to talk about the way we deal with Black women on reality tv. Love Island (LI) is back and to be honest, after the year we’ve had, post an Oprah Interview, BLM protests and George Floyd, I didn’t want to see another Black woman be dragged for merely existing. 

Kazana Kamwi is probably one of the best LI contestants ever cast. She’s bubbly, bright, sexy, intelligent and articulate. Her skin is smooth as cocktail ice and her bold choice of colours in her mini dresses and bikinis set off the richness of melanin in her skin. And yet, here come the critiques. She’s too happy. She’s too excited for other people. She can’t read that someone is not interested in her and obviously using her. She should say what’s on her mind with her chest. She’s doing too much. She’s not that attractive and the worst of all “she needs to go home coz the crying is too much.”

The lack of grace that is extended to Black women is just disgusting and disappointing. We are not a monolith. We don’t all react to situations the way that someone else would and certainly not always as we should. 

LI is an intense vacuum. You’re spending 24 hours a day with people very attractive people with NOTHING ELSE TO DO so of course feelings will naturally develop faster, like bacteria in a Petri dish in warm conditions. Four days to you and me in the LI villa is equivalent to months. So if someone is laying it on Factor 50 thick, selling you dreams about the outside world, how there’s no one else for them except you, wouldn’t you believe it? Apparently Kaz should have had her guard up on level ten and judge all men that enter by the standards of previous contestants. “Play the game!” The game is to find love, you bunch of bellends!

The same people complained about Yewande being too quiet and not making an effort. Worst of all, Kaz is being accused of “embarrassing us” as in the Black collective. I’m questioning how? Has she bullied anyone? Been violent to any other persons? Shown aggression? No! Not even remotely, despite obvious microaggressions. Her composure and restraint will become legend when this series is finished, I promise you. “Kaz would never!” will be the values by all future cast members will abide by! 

It’s perfectly acceptable to cry when someone upsets you. Why hold it in or back? It will make you unwell and is never good for your mental peace. The villa is a never ending void where you’re stuck with the persons or people who have hurt you in one way or another and those persons more than likely don’t have the range to communicate appropriately how they feel and acknowledge how they’ve made you feel. Can you imagine having no escape from that and then having armchair psychologists tweeting “it’s not what I’d have done.”

Really? Let’s see your dating profile at 24? Tell me who was selling you the world wrapped up in a Metro newspaper? Share with the class! No? 

What’s really sticking in my craw is the intense judgement that is laid on Kaz’s head for being upset at what we perceive to be manipulation - a man seeing a woman happy and deciding he doesn’t like it and needs to be a part of that happiness. Whatever decisions she makes now will be critiqued and theorised and dissected in the way that no other contestants will be. It won’t be admitted because this country is so fucking backward still but it’s misogynoir.  Always misogynior. Legitimately just say you hate Black women and go! It’s simpler and I can block you! 

The “be kind” rhetoric never covers Black women, does it? It’s always “she’s a lost cause.” (For not picking a Black man during Casa Amor week.) Why is she still crying!” (Because the boy she coupled up with tried to gaslight her on his return) “She’s doing too much!” (Because she told said gaslighter about himself with savage precision) “She’s moving mad!” (For being exactly who she is!) 

I am relieved there were no cameras around when I was 24 years old; making insane decisions and crying over people I didn’t need to waste a tear over! I swear to God, I don’t know how I’m alive with the shit I pulled. I’m giddy that I’ve got the perspective of age and distance to be able to judge my actions and not live vicariously through a girl who hasn’t lived through what I have and shouldn’t be hardened by the mill the world runs women through before Black women are sent off to the harsher grinder to be drained of any lightness and positivity and confidence. It’s clear to me that Kaz is a gorgeous woman of her convictions in an environment that has the most beautiful of girls doubting themselves. 

Because she is a dark skinned Black woman, Kaz absolutely deserves even more of our patience and our care and our understanding. Why should we be so quick to wash our hands of her, as if we’re her parents twenty years ago and she only got 98% on her English exam? It’s “support Black women!” Until it’s actually time to do so. 

The time is right here, right now. And before you say, it’s just TV, remember that the presenter, Caroline Flack and two contestants committed suicide and previous Black cast members received death threats. Even the most recent evictees have had awful messages of hate and racism. It’s just TV, but these are still people. Human beings, not SIMS characters. 

Give Kaz and the Black women you see on TV some grace; some patience and most of all some damn kindness! In a world that’s not going to do that for her, you do it! Do for her what wasn’t done for you and if you can’t, go to therapy and stop projecting the mistakes you wish you could undo onto her. I beg. 


https://www.psychotherapy.org.uk/find-a-therapist/


BetterHelp | Professional Counseling With A Licensed Therapist

Saturday 24 July 2021

Side Eye

Hiyaaah. It's going to be me dragging this country again - and it's not as if it doesn't deserve it! 

Something twigged in me when I was listening to a space in Twitter. People don't know that Britain had a civil rights movement. The laws in place now, the shoulders upon which this government is claiming that we are now almost a "post racial society", formed on the efforts and struggles and determination of Black and brown Brits. We had our own version of Black Panther Party, feeding people, providing education. We had Bristol Bus Boycotts - same city where the Colston statue was brought down last year during the BLM protests. We had riots in Brixton with water hoses from fire trucks knocking protestors off their feet. We marched, we got into parliament, and demanded change. That people are convinced that British racism has never been direct but covert, is so incorrect, it's concerning. Understanding that this has always been the way for this country needs to taken in. 

Let me take you into a very brief history. Britain has been exceptional at rebranding. Despite 18 and 19 century architecture, arts, education, and hilariously, philanthropy being directly funded by the transatlantic slave trade, Britain has done its best to distance itself from its origins. To the point where it's not taught at school. Only that William Wilberforce is one of the "greatest Britons" for forcing the end of slavery. The funny thing is, British slave owners were paid off with a government loan to end the trade. What's even funnier is that my family only stopped paying towards that loan to compensate in 2015. Two thousand and fifteen. Meaning that I have paid it off. Me. A Black African. My parents. Black Africans. Have compensated slave owners in this country to end the trade. Me. 

Some people don't know about "the Greatest Briton" Churchill's role in the Bengal Famine that killed around 3 million people. Or his efforts in Kenya where concentration camps were used and killed around 14,000 people. They then burned the paperwork to hide their involvement in those deaths. Or the UK's involvement in the Middle East (including Iran and Iraq) that began the issues in Israel/Palestine. Or that present day Zimbabwe was named Rhodesia after Cecil Rhodes (a violent racist "imperialist") or that the current government was very anti-Nelson Mandela and were against sanctions on South Africa. One of our Prime Ministers, David Cameron who not only benefitted from that slave owner compensation, but was involved in a group at Oxford University that called for Nelson Mandela's assassination. 

Racism isn't just calling someone a monkey or the n-word and that's what Britain has been very good at. "What's wrong with calling you black, that's what you are, isn't it?" Yes I may be a fucking bitch, what's my Blackness got to do with it? It's never been forward facing here. It's always been "it's for your own good" "it's because you don't know how you" "it's civilized" "you wouldn't survive otherwise" "we know better than you and it's not because of race at all, why would you be so awful to even suggest that?" The Irish know this. Southern Asians know this. Black Africans and Caribbean know as well. The open racism of the 50s to the 80s - the "no Irish, no dogs, no Blacks" has stepped to "migrants are the bane of our country and we're full up". It's been rebranded to cover up what anyone non-white will know and understand clearly to be as racist as possible. And then the best part of that rebranding is that they can say it's not racist. Prove that it is. You're the racist for bringing it up.

It's never been covert. It's as blatant as it's always been, it just needs the history to understand what it is. That's why you have white 'allies' saying "it's just a few of us!" or "that's not who we are!" Yes it is. It's what this country, who colonized three quarters of this planet for spices that they don't know how to use, has always been. A man with a superiority complex and a small dick. 

From the census in 2011, 13% of London is Black (African/Caribbean) and across the UK 3% is. It's not a lot, but given the number of us, the change we have effected and impacted on our own is vast and shouldn't be underestimated or understated. While it seems dire right now and overwhelming, because of social media and because of traditional print media, there are so many of us still fighting, still educating, still doing our utmost to challenge Britain's goodie goodie, gentile image and thank God for Meghan Markle and Prince Harry because if anything that's blown that image to pieces, it's them. You look at young Black athletes and sportspeople openly calling out the nonsense they experience not just in print but on social media as well. You can't gaslight an entire section of the population and not have all your grimy roots exposed. It means persevering. It means continuing to call it out. To undermine the rebranding so it can't be hidden behind. I hope that this country doesn't ever get to escape its racism and xenophobia and that its treatment of its Black and brown people, particularly its treatment of Meghan. Ever until there is acknowledgement, remorse and reparations. 

I said to a friend and I'll say it again, this country will never move forward until it accepts and makes reparations for the extensive wrongs it has done and the abuse it has inflicted on its Black and brown populace. Until then, I am happy to tear this country a new one until it does. 

Clink clink bitch! We're having a glass of rose to go with this!


Sunday 27 June 2021

Apples and Bananas

 


I love how I'm spamming my own blog with this book... Then again, it is my first book in a long time and it's the first book I've been able to make available on Apple Books!

Grief, the way I was emotionally tested by this; how long it took to upload, the additional formatting... Let me never go through that again, please Lord, I've been good (ish) I don't deserve it! (much)

So enough of the wingeing and on with the linkage: For The Last Time on Apple Books

This is an ePub version for those with the Apple Books app. Paperback will be on Amazon shortly and if you want a PDF? Email me. I've got you! 


Thursday 17 June 2021

The Last Time

 


And it's here!

Goodness that took a long time to review. Not that it's long as hell (once more with feeling, it's 102,000) but I used the new Word feature called "Read Aloud". It's never not hilarious to have an automated female voice repeatedly stating "what the fuck?" 

Anyway! Let me celebrate my first release in over eighteen months! I hope you can read it. It's a difficult subject and it was difficult to write at times, but first and foremost my new favourite phrase is to preserve your peace. If it's going to be a triggering subject, don't read it. There's been enough disturbance over the last two years (let alone a global panasonic) not to unbalance whatever calm you've cultivated. 

What my characters experience, my female characters in particular, is toughhhhhh. One of my oldest friends, after I explained the story and some spoilers, looked at me over a rather large glass of wine and said "Do you need help?" She said it with a laugh, but there was a slight professional edge to the question (she's in psychiatry). I told her I worked it all out of my system in this book and to be honest, reading it and giving myself nightmares probably helped even more. 

With that sense of freedom, you can read For The Last Time on Amazon here: For The Last Time on Amazon

I'm waiting for Apple Books to release the goods, but in the case you can't get an ePub or PDF version, feel free to email me your request. I have PayPal and I have formatted the devil out of this book!

As Issey's daughter says, "Talking is healthy."

It truly is... 


Monday 24 May 2021

You Don't Know

 


Shall we get ready to rumble?! While I get stuck into formatting this badboy of 102,000 odd words into shape, I can tell you a little bit more about it, because I can't keep this to myself. I mean, I made my editor cry, I made myself cry and I actually had a nightmare because of this too. Yikes! Not selling it am I? Imagine writing a book and then it keeping you up and night because you have literally scared yourself silly. I mean there isn't a demon or a ghost running around the pages of this story, but... some of this truly is messed up. I did it to get some things off my chest and while I feel like it was literary therapy for me, it's still very close on the surface of what I've actually processed and there's not enough emotional distance for me to box it up into the 'that happened and it's acceptable' rather than traumatising. Oh God, I'm going to traumatise you lot too, aren't I?

I've already warned that's it a different lane from the usual Billy London fare, in that it's not an out and out romance. It's undoubtedly a love story, but a love story between family - family that you choose and family that you don't. Oh, my characters are going to bang like bunnies, it wouldn't be a story by me if they didn't, but it's banging in keeping with the people that they are. And there are jokes. I can't help myself, like my main character, Issey, I tend to make light of terrible situations, so I can manage it in my brain. But as you'll see from just the trigger warning, you'll need to be in the right place to read this and even then some of it may still shock you. 

Let me explain: 

Blurb - 24 May 2021

T/W - discussions of suicide, sexual assault, stalking and suicide

“My name is Issey Deroche-Maurel. My mother was married to Derek Carpenter. He was my stepfather and twelve years ago, he was murdered on my wedding day.”

At the height of the macabre delectation of true crime podcasts and in the midst of a global pandemic, Issey Deroche-Maurel and her traumatic past have been discovered. Seizing upon the opportunity to tell her side of an impossible story, before it's told for her, Issey gives herself the voice to speak. For herself. For the people she loves. For the very last time. 

Now that I've set it up, read on here:

Excerpt - 19 August 2008 

Issey’s shoulders began to ache with the effort of keeping as much distance between herself and the officer as humanly possible. “I talked to over a hundred people. I can’t recall all of it.”

“Why don’t I believe you then?”

“Because I’m sure recalling a conversation is far easier with a recorder or a notebook to hand,” she snapped.

His eyebrows drew together slightly, a slight wrinkle forming there. “What are you trying to hide?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she lied sweetly.

Roylings softened his voice. “What you’re doing is obstructing justice. You’re legally required to help the police in our enquiries.” She blinked at him. “Do you know what happens to pretty little rich girls like you in prison?”

Oh, don’t you fucking dare, she thought, despite how her stomach dissolved in sudden fear. She shook her head.

“Things that make Harvey Nichols seem a long way away. Things that make period pains look like a walk in the park. Things that make women a lot stronger than you go mental. Things that make you wish for a weapon. Do you understand? You help me out, Mrs Buchanan, and you’ll never need to know.”

She scratched her neck. “I told you I can’t remember.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Batting those lashes at me to see if I give up. I’m sure every male you’ve come across has bent to your will. There’s always an exception to the rule.”

“Yes. I married him.”

She looked at Roylings, her eyes bright with laughter. “I’m sure the floor’s clean enough for you to roll over whenever you’re ready.”

Roylings leaned in a little closer, and she could see the dark blond stubble that coated his lower jaw, and that his eyes weren’t black or brown, but a deep, very dark blue. “You’re playing out of your depth.”

“Something to strive for while I’m not on honeymoon.”

“How about you strive for bail when I arrest you for obstruction to justice?”

Issey’s temper finally surfaced. She was not one given to making threats, but hey, when in Rome… “How about I do you for harassment, sexual and racial discrimination?”

He laughed in her face. “I would love to know how you’d even attempt the last one. Go on, Mrs Buchanan. Enlighten me.”

She cleared her throat and said in her most delicate lady-of-the-manor voice, “The moment you met me, you have made your dislike of me patently obvious. I would figure that to be some deep-seated dislike of women in general and right now you are using your height and weight as an advantage over me as a woman. Sexual discrimination. Your methods of interrogation are proving to be rather brutal, given you have offered no form of counsel and no tape recorder. I am assisting you with your enquiries, not being questioned. You made that distinction to me. With the recent family bereavement in mind, it is hardly admirable policing. Harassment. The fact that you’re an inch from my face, I’m immensely surprised that you cannot see that my father is Black.”

She saw his eyes widen in astonishment, as she concluded, “Racial discrimination. I am a fantastic journalist, and I can spin this in such a way that you’ll be collecting your pension this time next fortnight. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for the Met being under scrutiny for the way they treat ethnic suspects, yet again, would you?” Her eyes gleamed as a rather malicious smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “I like a good fight.”

He looked at her as if he had discovered a new species. “What box do you tick when you have to fill in those equal opportunities forms?”

“Mixed, obviously,” she said, trying not to show how irritated she was in making the clarification.

“Those laws are there to protect the vulnerable in society,” he reminded her, as if they were having a congenial conversation. “Those who are truly abused by the system.”

“And I am taking advantage of that law.” She lifted her brows. “Why, do you think that racial discrimination is reserved for those who are all black or all Asian or all white? I deserve to be protected from unwarranted slurs against my character. You clearly have issue with me. And my proximity to Blackness may be one of many.”

“You are unbelievable,” he told her in part admiration. “You know that it would be laughed out of any court.”

“The very fact that you suggested that it would be constitutes an abuse of my right to be protected by that law.”

“I doubt it.”

“You would,” she derided, “you’re the one I’m pointing the finger at.”

“You are very defensive.”

“I always am when men try to bully me.”

“Help me out,” he encouraged. Good Lord. Any guilty person would have told him what he wanted to know to stop the range of moods he went through.

“Why don’t you ask Clare Windsor?” Issey said eventually. “She was right next to Derek when we had our instantly forgettable conversation.”

“Who’s Clare Windsor?”

“If you stop hovering over me, I’ll show you.” He stretched up and watched her flick through the pictures. “Here. If that’s all, I’d really like to go home now.”

Roylings inclined his head in the affirmative. “You can tell your mother that she’s no longer needed either. Whatever you’re trying to hide, Mrs Buchanan, it’ll be better for you if you own up to it now.”

“It’s Ms Deroche-Maurel,” she corrected, only to be promptly ignored.

“Take a note,” he said with a taut edge to his voice. “This is the part where you’ve walked freely into the lion’s den. Don’t scream if you get eaten.”

Issey picked up her purse. “No one can eat a whole me. There’s far too much to go around.”

He laughed suddenly. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you? Does your husband have any idea what he’s got himself into?”

Eyes wide open. She lifted a shoulder. “I doubt it.”

He opened the door for her and walked her towards the reception. “Anything else that comes to mind—a conversation, perhaps—please, let me know.” He stared at her, as if he had recognised his sparring partner, and was looking forward to beating her stupid.

Over Derek’s dead body? No, thanks, I’ve got better use for my time. “Of course.”

He held the door open for her and she slipped her sunglasses back onto her nose. Vanessa was still on the phone, standing by her new Audi.

“Of course, of course, yes, darling, very soon. Bye-bye.” She turned to her daughter. “All done, darling?”

“You’re my witness,” Issey ground out.

“To what?”

“That…that poor excuse for a police officer is trying to stitch me up.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes you, that’s all.”

Issey sucked in a calming breath. As she had a feeling that Roylings could be watching her from the station, she stopped herself from shaking her mother to sanity. “Mother, your husband was murdered. The faster they sort this out, the better they look.”

Vanessa waved her hand through the air. “I think they’ve made a terrible mistake. No one would go out of their way to murder Derek, and not at your wedding.”

You and I came pretty close, she was so close to retorting, but she held it back. Her mother continued, “Honestly, it’s the most upsetting thing I’ve heard, next to George Best being an alcoholic. Broke my heart.”

“Really, Mother? Unless you want to add daughter convicted of murder to that, then watch out for me.”

Vanessa gurgled with delighted laughter. “He seems so intent on you because he finds you attractive. You shouldn’t be surprised, not at this age. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean it won’t happen.” She tweaked at her hat smugly. “Well, you are my child.”

“He’s just…”

Vanessa pressed the alarm release to her car. “You ought to go out. It’ll be good for you. Here…” She handed over a gold-embossed invitation. “Derek and I were supposed to attend Zack’s charity dinner for that heart foundation. I suppose Lorccán will still be at work.”

Issey twisted her keys about her fingers. “I suppose so.” Best place for him, really. Out of each other’s way.

Vanessa opened the door and gracefully stepped into the car. “Don’t brood too much, will you, darling? It rather undermines my widowhood.”


Thursday 13 May 2021

Look Back


I've been quiet on here - obviously not on Twitter if you follow me there, that's where I write all my nonsense - because I've been working hard both with the day job and with the edits on the book! Round one finally submitted! 

So to celebrate, let's get some music on board. It's the only thing that's sustained me through the madness of this tale. I've been toying with this story for a while. It's a whodunnit because why not? Then the pandemic hit and we are all wearing masks, not touching, having video calls with our grandmas and how would a whodunnit at a wedding when the guestlist is down to thirty with no reception work? Cue Hot Muse Hank. While listening to a great podcast by John Sweeney, HMH told me that I could keep everything as is, but have the characters talk about what happened to them as though it happened years ago, rather than currently. 

"You're a fucking genius!" I said to Hot Muse Hank. He made a face and said, "Well try it and see if it's easy."

Spoiler alert - it was NOT easy. You really forget things that were happening last week, let alone twelve nearly thirteen years ago, and then thirteen years from that date. I changed names and forgot to change names all the way through. I changed genders and forgot that I'd done that and read through thinking, who the hell is she? when I meant he. Foolishness. Did Hot Muse Hank help? Did he fuck. He reminded me that while it'd been his idea to take things way back into time, it was also my idea to follow his idea. 

Also, let me do an early warning on the content of this book. While it'll have my trademark humour, it's pretty dark. There's a lot of murder, discussions on sexual abuse and assault and stalking. Once I have the book up, you can download a sample to see if it's for you but please be assured that if it's not, I promise you, I understand. 

Anyways, the podcast within a book within a whodunnit takes place in 2020, with the murder at a wedding taking place in 2008. With me? For authenticity, all the music tracked is either from last year or 2008 or earlier. If you had seen me having a whole concert to myself doing this, you would agree with Hot Muse Hank that I have lost my natural mind. All good though! 

Music a la podcast style:

For The Last Time Soundtrack

  1. 2WEI – Echoes
  2. Sam Sparro – Black & Gold
  3. Foals – Like Swimming
  4. Tom Mc Rae – A Day Like Today
  5. Interpol – The Heinrich Maneuver
  6. Rufus Wainwright – Not Ready To Love
  7. Placebo – Pure Morning
  8. Björk – Unravel
  9. Kate Nash – Nicest Thing
  10. Zero7 ft Mozez – I Have Seen
  11. Tom Ashbrook – Klass
  12. She Wants Revenge – Tear You Apart
  13. Radiohead – Talk Show Host
  14. Bloc Party – Biko
  15. Jimi Hendrix – Voodoo Child (Slight Return)
  16. Guillemots – Little Bear
  17. TÄ€LÄ€ – Cabin Fever  
  18. Portishead – Undenied
  19. MJ Cole – Sincere
  20. Aqualung – Good Times Gonna Come
  21. The Naked And Famous – The Sun
  22. Amy Winehouse – Tears Dry On Their Own
  23. Damian Marley – Welcome To Jamrock
  24. Kanye West ft Consequence, Cam’ron – Gone
  25. Stevie Wonder – I Don’t Know Why
  26. Madonna – Candy Perfume Girl
  27. David Bowie – All The Young Dudes
  28. Tricky – Ponderosa
  29. Portishead – Strangers
  30. Radiohead – Nude
  31. UNKLE – Price You Pay
  32. Madcon – Beggin’
  33. Lamb – Lullaby
  34. Coldplay – Spies
  35. Paramore – We Are Broken  
  36. Death in Vegas – Hands Around My Throat
  37. Damien Rice – Eskimo
  38. Tom McRae – Walking2Hawaii
  39. Bat For Lashes – What’s A Girl To Do
  40. Tricky – Hell Is Around The Corner
  41. Basement Jaxx – Everybody
  42. Mark Ronson ft Daniel Merriweather – Stop Me
  43. New Young Pony Club – Ice Cream
  44. Massive Attack – Teardrop
  45. Massive Attack – Unfinished Sympathy
  46. Radiohead – Paranoid Android  
  47. The Ting Tings – We Walk
  48. Low – Breaker
  49. Radiohead – Everything In Its Right Place
  50. 702 – You Don’t Know
  51. Cassie – Me & U
  52. Ledisi – You And Me
  53. José González – Killing For Love
  54. Sigor Rós – Svefn-g-englar
  55. U2 – If God Will Send His Angels
  56. Bobby Womack – California Dreamin’
  57. PJ Harvey – The Garden
  58. Faithless – Crazy English Summer
  59. Little Dragon – Twice
  60. Malcolm McLaren – About Her
  61. Bon Iver – Creature Fear
  62. Air – Photograph
  63. Bonobo ft Fink – If You Stayed Over  
  64. White Lies – Unfinished Business
  65. Coldplay – Prospekt’s March/Poppyfields
  66. Alexandre Desplat – Elegy
  67. Linkin Park – Hands Held High
  68. Bloc Party – Kreuzberg
  69. Vanbur – In Cold Light
  70. Active Child – Cruel World