“The stale smell of England’s dreams and desires”: says it all. A very English travelogue but not an idealised gin in teacups version: our England is one of festering resentment, petty bigotry we’re too scared to admit to and crippling economic recession. The right wing talk about us “taking our country back” and turning the clock back but an ideal England never existed. You can’t be nostalgic for a fantasy. But you can write a song about it which includes percussive use of a bathroom door hit with drumsticks.