Morcheeba, and other bands who made a living writing music exclusively for stoners

WRITING tunes for people who are stoned off their tits has enabled many bands to forge a lucrative career. Like these:


When part of a band’s name is a reference to a slang term for cannabis the writing’s already on the wall. They helped many an addled pothead while away the hours in the late 90s thanks to the ambient, floating harmonies of debut Who Can You Trust?, the title of which is presumably a nod to the paranoia associated with excessive weed use.

The Orb

In what other state of mind would you be captivated by the utter brilliance of someone repeating the phrase ‘little fluffy clouds’ over a backdrop of psychedelic electronica? Play it back the following morning and wonder what the f**k possessed you to buy this mad shit. Then spark up your first reefer of the day and it’ll all fall back into place.

Ozric Tentacles

You wouldn’t dream of listening to jazz fusion space rock sober, but after half a bifter those weird arrangements and innovative time changes sounds like the work of musical wizards. Proper hard core psychedelia for people who always make sure there’s a joint rolled ready on the bedside table for when they wake up in the morning.

Pink Floyd

The obvious go-to for reefer-fuelled old hippies who don’t mind guitar solos going on for weeks so long as there’s always a half-ounce of Durban Poison in the drawer. Comfortably Numb is such a stereotypical description of the average Floyd fan’s perpetual state of mind that it’s practically taking the piss.


Bristol has produced plenty of artists dedicated to making comedown music, including Massive Attack and Tricky, but Portishead are the masters of producing songs that make the most sense when you’re caned out of your nut at 4.30am. Probably because they’re too f**king depressing to listen to in the cold light of day.

Bob Marley

Bob Marley was a devoted Rastafarian who smoked ganja as part of his religion. Now his image adorns the walls of dedicated potheads the world over who wouldn’t know who Emperor Haile Selassie was if he stole their Jamaican flag-themed weed grinder. They still love Marley’s music though, even if the themes of Burnin’ and Lootin’ have entirely passed them by.

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Prosecco o'clock: a prick's guide to timekeeping

SOME absolute wankers think they’re too good for regular timekeeping. Here’s how they mark out their days.


Brunch has been around for over a hundred years but it’s only become annoying in recent years, and that’s all down to hipsters wanting to justify charging £12 for a couple of eggs on toast. If you don’t want to sound like a prick who has opened a sourdough cronut and porridge café in Bristol, stick with breakfast or lunch.

Leg day

Arseholes who spend their lives in gyms get to a point when their steroid-addled brains are no longer able to grasp concepts such as ‘Tuesday’ or ‘Saturday’. Instead, their entire schedules are centred on which part of their freakishly bulging body they’re working on, and they end up saying things like ‘Meet you for a chicken breast lunch next leg day, bro.’

Prosecco o’clock

A nonsense concept which has been enthusiastically embraced by people who love ‘cheeky’ kitchen signs and hen parties. So pointless in its ambiguity that it could fit anywhere from 7pm all the way down to 11am, defending on how much of a massive pisshead the twat using it is. See also ‘gin o’clock’ and, for posh twats, ‘the sun’s over the yardarm somewhere in the world’.

Close of business

Beloved of a particular type of bellend whose favourite social media platform is LinkedIn. They think they sound like Steve Jobs using dreadful jargon such as ‘close of business’ or, even worse, ‘end of play’ to refer to 5:30pm. If they use these phrases outside of work, they’re beyond help.


The wellness industry has a lot to answer for. However, their weirdest invention has been the popularisation of people comfortably talking about having some ‘me-time’. Everyone knows that this is simply code for ‘having a big wank and maybe some crisps, too’. Why health freaks felt the need to formalise the concept is baffling.