Five essential twee pop albums

The word ‘twee’ is still sometimes thrown around as a pejorative in music criticism, but dig a bit deeper and you will find a rich treasure trove of melodic goodness ripe for rediscovery. When twee pop bands began to appear in the 80s. some hated them for their apparent wimpiness or girliness, but in retrospect they had more in common with punk than top 40 pop – like those bands many of the twee popsters relied on their ideas and spirit rather than musical virtuosity.

Twee pop was also notable for rejecting the masculinity of mainstream music as well as its crass commercialism: these records were passed from fan to fan, promoted at DIY gigs and through fanzines. While it remains an underappreciated genre, it was hugely influential, with bands like Belle and Sebastian and Cults drawing on its mighty legacy. Here are some essential records to get your collection started:


Heavenly’s singer was Amelia Fletcher, a key figure in twee pop history who was also the vocalist in Tender Trap, Marine Research and Talulah Gosh, as well as being awarded the OBE for her day job work as an economist. This was her greatest (musical) moment though, a no-filler collection of sunshine-dappled jangle pop. ‘Starshy’ and ‘Sort of Mine’ are eminently hummable pop gems and ‘C is the Heavenly Option’, a duet with indie legend Calvin Johnson, is a cheeky, clever look at the dating quizzes in girls magazines. Not to be confused with the classical metal band of the same name.


“I’m not brave, I’m not special, I’m not any of those things” Bobby Wratten sighed on ‘Fabulous Friend’. The Field Mice were special though, perhaps the ultimate twee pop band. While some caricatured them as forever lovelorn saps, The Field Mice were far more diverse than their detractors allowed, moving confidently across genres such as shoegaze, acid house and blue-eyed soul and working in moods ranging from rainswept heartbreakers to mood-lifting, incessantly catchy pop. Highlights of this collection include proto-gay rights anthem ‘This Love is Not Wrong’ and ‘Emma’s House’, an evergreen pop gem. Varied as it is, what ties their work together is a rare sense of intimacy, as though you’re listening on someone’s most secret thoughts.


Named after the greeting favoured by workers at the fish markets, Allo’ Darlin’s first record was rich in tunes and charm. They’re led by unassuming genius Elizabeth Morris, an Australian who moved to London and recruited members such as Bill from the wonderfully named Moustache of Insanity to flesh out her songs, which are at once both light and whimsical and intelligent. There’s something of the wordplay and warmth of fellow Australians The Lucksmiths and a real sense of playfulness and joy: check out ‘My Heart is a Drummer’, an earworm with a melody reminiscent of ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’.


If The Field Mice are twee pop royalty, then Tullycraft are its court jesters – few bands have ever made music this purely fun. All their records sound like rallying cries for their devoted fanbase, but this is their best overall collection, inspired by everything from 60s novelty songs to punk and girl groups. ‘Our Days in Kansas’ is a heartbreaking, finely-observed portrait of a relationship gone sour, ‘Rumble With the Gang Debs’ is like the musical equivalent of an Archie comic and ‘Fall 4 U’ is a dinky little pop song you’ll never get out of your head. Then there’s ‘Molly’s Got a Crush On Us’ which shows their refusal to take themselves too seriously: “Well we’re the best band you’ve never heard / We almost always play to crowds of twelve”


After staking out their turf with their self-titled debut which included puntastic tales of getting it on in the library (‘Young Adult Friction’) and skuzzy candy grunge (‘This Love is Fucking Right!’), the New York group made a play for the big leagues with this irresistible second full-length. Burying gorgeous melodies under noisy guitars and teaming with a big name producer for the first time, the Pains went for a bigger sound on Belong, but they didn’t lose what made them special in the first place and this is an endlessly replayable collection of songs for outsiders.


Favourite FOFOP Episodes

The scruffy, uncompromised punk rock to commercial radio’s slick and bloated yacht pop, podcasts have provided a wealth of free and vital content in recent years, allowing comedians, broadcasters and just about anyone to put their thoughts on tape without the need for the middle man of radio management. One of the key podcasts is FOFOP (an earlier incarnation was called TOFOP), a series of rambling but often riotously funny conversations charting TV presenter/writer/ comedian Wil Anderson’s life as he moves to the US and decides to focus solely on comedy. As FOFOP passes the 100 episode milestone, here are some favourite epsidoes:

FOFOP 26: Snoop Dog

The most memorable appearance of ‘World’s Worst Co-Host’ Ramona, a French bulldog Anderson looks after, who almost pays the price for her curiosity in this excruciatingly funny tale. As with a lot of the best comedy, it flirts with tragedy and farce in roughly equal measure. Recorded just after the incident, this is a great piece of storytelling made all the better for Anderson and co-host Lindsay Webb’s still raw sense of relief and bemused disbelief.

FOFOP 67: Lil’ Bats

An ideal introduction to the winningly frivolous and pop-culture obsessed side of FOFOP, this is one of many episodes to feature comedy industry legend Justin Hamilton. The pair have an amazing rapport and an ability to hilariously riff on any topic, though their conversations almost inevitably return to a shared obsession, Batman. Here, they take on artisanal meth for hipsters, Robin Thicke and a range of other lengthy but inspired digressions. The best bit, however, is one of the podcast’s patented ‘gritty reboots’, this time a pitch for a pint-sized Gotham city crusader which is both an absurd concept and a better idea than many Hollywood studios have had lately. 

FONUS: An Unexpectedly Serious Conversation

A massive outlier in the reliably hilarious FOFOP back catalogue (and released as a bonus episode with the disclaimer that it won’t be for everyone), this is definitely the most sobering episode put to tape, but all the more memorable for its serious nature. Anderson and frequent guest Dave Anthony discuss the former’s shock as he deals with the news his sort-of-friend has been arrested for possessing child pornography. A thoughtful, disquieting look at how a crime affects a community, including those only tangentially involved.

FOFOP 53: Everyone Does It!

One of FOFOP’s best reflections on the intricacies and banalities of our obsession with celebrity culture, this hugely funny episode sees Anderson reunited with another JJJ alum, the hilarious and likeable Scott Dooley. The title here comes from an extended improvisation stemming from the most unlikely of starting points: an entry in the Daily Telegraph’s ‘celebrities spotted’ section where someone reported seeing Claudia Karvan using the bathroom in a Redfern café. What follows can only be described as inspired nonsense.

FOFOP 91: Foflanniversary

Recent FOFOP episodes have approached the more serious bent of off-shoot podcast Wilosophy and this chat, where Anderson recounts a massive surprise party thrown for him when he turned 40, is a joyous celebration of friendship and finding your niche in life. For long-time T-baggers, it’s also something of a payoff as Anderson had outlined the surprise party as his ultimate birthday present in an old TOFOP episode, only to forget about it as friends set about planning it in stealth. The laughs per minute quotient is probably not as high as a lot of other episodes, but it’s hard not to get caught up in the pure exuberance of this instalment.