More Olivia Dean and Spain Comes To The Brits 2026

Maybe it’s because I’m yet again following the UK Music Charts (for the first time in many a year), but I thought last Saturday night’s Brit Awards, held for the first time in Manchester, was a vintage edition. There were many amazing performances and I recognised the names of just about everyone who was nominated for awards.

The Brits is a very polished affair nowadays, far removed from the mayhem and irreverent behaviour of days gone by, but you still get a few glimpses of it, especially from host Jack Whitehall. But I suppose the music industry is a very polished business nowadays too, with the winners usually alumni from The Brit School. This year was no exception with the big winner of the night being the lovely Olivia Dean. Her The Art Of Loving album has been either near, or at the top of the UK Album Chart since last October. If you like a story song or something quite raucous, this album is not for you, but it certainly seems to have hit the spot for much of the British public. Here is the song from her award winning album that she performed on the night.


This is what Olivia said about the album in an interview with Elle magazine:

I thought that I would like to write an album reflecting on my understanding of love, the last two years of my life, and everything that’s happened. It’s obviously a topic that a lot of people have written songs about, I’m very aware, but I don’t think that takes away from the importance of it.

So, Olivia won the award for Album Of The Year and lo and behold, she also won the award for Song Of The Year for her collaboration with Sam Fender (who himself won the award for best Alternative/Rock Act, for the second year running). I have been remiss in not updating my followers on what has been at the top of the UK Singles Chart for the last two weeks – well, it’s that very song, Rein Me In.


Four weeks ago I wrote about the Grammys and how both Olivia Dean and Lola Young won awards. Here at the Brits, things followed the same pattern as Lola Young also won an award, this time for Breakthrough Artist. Again, like at the Grammys, an artist singing in Spanish won a big award. This time it wasn’t Bad Bunny, but a genre-defying Spanish pop star called ROSALÍA who won the award for International Artist of the Year and delivered a spectacular performance of her song Berghain, for which she brought out the Heritage Orchestra and Björk, who was making her first appearance at The Brit Awards in ten years (at 1:35).


I don’t know about you but I thought that was the performance of the night, and there were plenty this year to choose from. I think we’ll hear a lot more from that particular lady. For the rest of this year’s winners just click on the Brit Awards link at the top of the page.

ROSALÍA and Bjork

I’m posting early this week as we’re heading off to Edinburgh tomorrow to meet up with my two ex-flatmates (they are mentioned around here often) and their husbands. Back in the day we were often a party of six, but back then the partners were different. It seems none of the boyfriends morphed into husbands which is probably a good thing. I don’t think any of them follow the charts, or are particularly interested in who won Brit awards this year, but who knows, they might humour me if I give them the lowdown. We did always watch TOTP however and they will remember that I was always the one who rushed home for The Tube on a Friday after work. A great start to the weekend!

Until next time…

Rein Me In Lyrics
(Song by Sam Fender)

I let go of everythin’ I ever had
‘Cause I couldn’t give the love you deserved
By The Gunner, you shouted, “Oh, my God”
It seemed churlish, but it’s what I was owed, I suppose

Every flagstone of this town bears our prints
And all the bars ’round here serve my ghosts and carcasses
I wish I knew these things when I was young
‘Cause now I’ve just gone so numb

We take whatever we can to get the reason back
So, please, don’t rein me in
Don’t rein me in
Please, don’t rein me in

I’m workin’ myself up to a nice, warm bliss
All my memories of you ring like tinnitus
If I stop, it’s just pain
Please, don’t rein me in

There’s nothin’ brave in walkin’ alone
Love in exile has nowhere to go, so come on home
Mm-mm, don’t run away from my tenderness
You’re so afraid of that heart inside of your chest

We were doin’ so well, but you were scared to be held
Took the easiest way out
I see the tears of a man too proud to reach for a hand
Oh, let my love keep you safe now

So, please don’t
Don’t rein me in
Please, don’t rein me in

Now I’m working myself up to a nice, warm bliss
All my memories of you ring like tinnitus
If I stop, it’s just pain
Please, don’t rein me in

And I’m, I’m stood here chewin’ everyone’s lugs off
Telling everybody how much I – it up
Telling everybody how much I – it up
Telling everybody but you, how much I – it up

Slow down (don’t rein me in)
Slow down (don’t rein me in)
Don’t

And I’m workin’ myself up to a nice, warm bliss
All my memories of you ring like tinnitus
If I stop, it’s just pain
Please, don’t rein me in

Now I’m workin’ myself up to a nice, warm bliss (workin’ myself)
All my memories of you ring like tinnitus (my memories of you)
If I stop, it’s just pain
Please, don’t rein me in

Olivia, Lola and It’s All A Bit “Messy”

The first few months of a new year in the world of the arts is known as Awards Season and this week it was the turn of the Grammys to give out their prizes for outstanding achievements in music. Unlike with our homegrown Brit Awards, I don’t often recognise the names of those nominated, but we usually have a few artists from the UK who do well and this year was no exception. Incidentally, the reason the trophy depicts a gilded gramophone, is because at their inception back in 1959, they were called the “Gramophone Awards”. I don’t think many of today’s winners will have ever seen a gramophone in real life but if you ever look at the HMV (His Master’s Voice) label you will see one there too.

A Grammy trophy and the painting used for the HMV label (featuring Nipper the dog from Bristol)

A year and a half ago I knew nothing of what was current in the world of music and even made a faux pas here in 2024 when I said that DD had asked for an album by someone called Messy for her Christmas present. Once I did a bit of research I realised there was no contemporary artist called Messy but there was an album of the same name by someone called Olivia Dean and a song of the same name by someone called Lola Young, both Brits. It was the Olivia album that DD wanted and it seems she was ahead of the curve as this 2023 Messy album didn’t hang around in the charts for long, but it did set Olivia up for her second album called the Art Of Loving which has done really well for her. This week she won the Grammy for Best New Artist. Here is an example of what Olivia does best – So Easy (To Fall In Love). I don’t think I ever wore a dress like that to the office!


But back to my faux pas. The song called Messy that I found out about when trying to discover DD’s elusive artist, ended up giving Lola Young the Grammy for Best Solo Pop Performance. By the time we headed into 2025 I did get to know this song quite well as Lola ended up being Mr WIAA’s favourite new discovery of the year. We both have our own computers in our little office and often sit side by side. During our tea-breaks we show each other YouTube clips of new music we love and whilst my favourite artist at that time was definitely Chappell Roan, his was always Lola with her song. (Warning: some swearing in this video.)

Messy by Lola Young:


Lola explained the song in an interview, saying Messy is an ADHD anthem. It showcases everything she felt during her last relationship but also about how she feels about herself in general – being too messy one day then too clean the next, struggling to find a balance in herself. It’s about embracing imperfections and finding strength in who she is, scatty or not.

Brian Denney of Atwood Magazine wrote: “Messy is a beautiful display of Young’s gritty vocals and world-class lyrical storytelling. As a listener, it plays out as if you are watching the singer leave an angry voicemail to her lover, simply fed up with the irrationality of trying to please a partner who will never be satisfied.”

For anyone interested in who the other British winners were at the Grammys, here is the lowdown.

Best pop duo/group performance
Cynthia Erivo & Ariana Grande – Defying Gravity

Best dance/electronic album
FKA Twigs – Eusexua

Best rock performance
Yungblud ft Nuno Bettencourt, Frank Bello, Adam Wakeman, II – Changes (Live From Villa Park) Back To The Beginning

Best alternative music album
The Cure – Songs Of A Lost World

Best alternative music performance
The Cure – Alone

How great that a band who have been around since 1976 won its first ever awards. The Cure won both the categories they were nominated for. Sadly they were absent from the ceremony due to their attendance at the funeral for their bandmate Perry Bamonte, who died in December.


Here’s a conversation blogger Jez once shared over at his wonderful place, and I’ve never forgotten it. Hope you don’t mind if I use it Jez?

Meg: I passed Robert Smith in a corridor at the BBC once, and he was dressed as Robert Smith…

Jez: Sorry, what do you mean, ‘dressed as Robert Smith’?

Meg: You know, his hair was all over the place, loads of mascara, slightly wonky lipstick…

Jez: But you’re describing Robert Smith to me. Are you saying he doesn’t always look like that?

Meg: Well, yes. He can’t look like that all the time, or he’d always be getting stopped. He must dress like Robert Smith out of The Cure only when he’s being Robert Smith out of The Cure, surely?

It was something which had never occured to me before, but the more I think about it, the more I think Meg’s probably right. Much as I’d like to imagine Robert Smith popping to the shops to buy some toilet roll dressed as Robert Smith out of The Cure, he probably doesn’t. He probably just wears the eyeliner and passes on the lipstick.

Thanks Jez – I still find that exchange quite funny but also makes you think about the delineation between the artist and the man.

Robert Smith sans makeup


Until next time…

Messy Lyrics (again some swearing)
(Song by Carter Lang/Scott Zhang/Lola Young/Conor Luke Dickinson)

You know I’m impatient
So why would you leave me waitin’ outside the station
When it was like minus four degrees?
And I, I get what you’re sayin’
I just really don’t wanna hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?

Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice about
How you think I’m gonna die lucky if I turn 33
Okay, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I’m not skinny, and I pull a Britney every other week
But cut me some slack, who do you want me to be?

‘Cause I’m too messy, and then I’m too fucking clean
You told me, “Get a job, ” then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect ’til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I’m too clever, and then I’m too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it’s that time of the month
And I’m too perfect ’til I show you that I’m not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the fucking lot

You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate, you hate

It’s taking you ages
You still don’t get the hint, I’m not askin’ for pages
But one text or two would be nice
And please, don’t pull those faces
When I’ve been out working my arse off all day
It’s just one bottle of wine or two

But, hey, you can’t even talk
You smoke weed just to help you sleep
Then why you out gettin’ stoned at four o’clock?
And then you come home to me
And don’t say hello, ’cause I got high again
And forgot to fold my clothes

‘Cause I’m too messy, and then I’m too fucking clean
You told me, “Get a job, ” then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect ’til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I’m too clever, and then I’m too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it’s that time of the month
And I’m too perfect ’til I show you that I’m not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the fucking lot

You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot

Oh-ooh, and I’m too messy, and then I’m too fucking clean
You told me, “Get a job, ” then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect ’til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I’m too clever, and then I’m too fucking dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it’s that time of the month
And I’m too perfect ’til I show you that I’m not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the fucking lot

You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot
You hate the fucking lot