It’s time for a big old moan. Next week’s newsletter will be a roundup of our favourite culture of the year, a bit of an annual Guide tradition by now, and something that’s great fun to put together.
But do you know what’s even more fun? Complaining about things. So, this week’s Guide is devoted to cultural gripes, big and small, of 2025. Here’s what had us seething this year.
The utter horror of buying tickets in 2025
Great news! Your favourite band, who last played live more than a decade ago, have just announced a UK tour. Now there’s just the small matter of getting a ticket.
You’ve already missed out on the presale due to not being on the right mobile phone network, so you’re stuck in the 10am general sale bunfight with the rest of the humps. A mad scramble to get a seat – any seat – ensues, as whole blocks switch from a welcoming blue to a forbidding gun-metal grey. You do manage to add a ticket to your basket, but you could only get one as part of the platinum superfan VIP package (yes, it costs as much as a flight to Timbuktu, but there is a limited edition tote bag thrown in). As you dither over whether to go hundreds of pounds over the budget you set yourself, the blood red timer in the top right hand corner ticks down to zero, and by the time you’re back in the main room it’s too late: SOLD OUT.
You’ll either have to brave the secondary market (which might require you getting a second job), or miss out entirely. Although, wait, they are rumoured to be playing Glastonbury in 2027 … fancy another ticket battle royale next November?
‘Did he kill the au pair’ dramas
The streaming era seemed to promise so much for television: even more of those great sprawling dramas that came out of the “golden age” that preceded it. Hmm yeah, not so much. Instead of the next Mad Men, the streamers seem to pump out an unceasing slurry of what you might call “did he kill the au pair” TV: glossy, small-screen versions of the sort of mid-budget movie thrillers that people complain don’t get made any more.
The only difference? Here they’re stretched to breaking point over 8-10 episodes, with key details of the plot restated for the benefit of those half-watching, and some sort of unsatisfying fudge of a cliffhanger tacked on at the end in case it’s successful enough for a series two. The Guest, The Girlfriend, Little Disasters, The Better Sister, The Stolen Girl … the list goes on and on, interminably. Enough, please!
AI (inevitably)
This was the year that AI slop burst past whatever minimal barriers had been erected to protect against it: head to your social media feed of choice and it won’t be long before you’re greeted with a video of something weird, wonderful and entirely fabricated (in my case Stephen Hawking fighting Einstein in a “hell in the cell” wrestling match).
Artificially generated alt-country bands, or down-on-their-luck…
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