Frog Pocket’s My Favourite – A Leftfield Gem That Still Feels Like a Secret
Let’s talk about My Favourite, the 2000 album by Frog Pocket, because honestly? It feels like one of those records that slipped through the cracks but didn’t deserve to. Released on Mouthmoth—a tiny UK label you’ve probably never heard of—it’s this weird little treasure chest of abstract electronic sounds that just sticks with you. You know how sometimes an album comes along and it doesn’t try to be everything for everyone? This is one of those.
The genre tags say “Abstract,” “Leftfield,” and “IDM,” but none of that really prepares you for what’s inside. It’s not polished or shiny; instead, it’s got this raw, almost scrappy charm that makes it feel alive. Like, yeah, it’s a bit messy at times, but isn’t that kinda beautiful? Tracks like New Borg Weeper and Green Carrick Dub are burned into my brain, not because they’re perfect, but because they’re unforgettable in their own strange way.
Take New Borg Weeper, for example. The track starts off all glitchy and nervous, like your headphones have caught some kind of digital cold. But then, outta nowhere, there’s this warm synth line creeping in, slow and steady, like sunrise breaking over a junkyard. It shouldn’t work, right? Glitchy chaos + cozy vibes = ??? Yet somehow, it does. Every time I hear it, I’m transported somewhere else—maybe a place where robots go to cry or find peace or whatever robots do when no one’s watching.
Then there’s Green Carrick Dub. Oh man, this one hits different. It’s got this lazy groove going on, like someone took dub music and fed it through a kaleidoscope. There’s these echoing beats and watery textures that make you feel like you’re floating downstream without a paddle. Honestly, it’s the kind of track that could soundtrack both a late-night drive and a deep existential crisis. And I mean that as a compliment! There’s something comforting about its unpredictability, like life itself but less stressful.
Other tracks on the album, like Rub It To The Ducks (what even IS that title?) or Flahwy Doo, keep the vibe going with their quirky soundscapes and wonky rhythms. They’re not all instant classics, sure, but they add to the overall feeling of stumbling into someone’s secret sonic lab. It’s like Frog Pocket was just experimenting wildly, throwing paint at the wall, and seeing what stuck. Spoiler alert: most of it did.
What gets me thinking, though, is how albums like this can exist in the first place. In 2000, the world was obsessed with big-name DJs and slick production, yet here comes Frog Pocket, quietly dropping this lo-fi masterpiece that barely anyone noticed. Maybe that’s why it still resonates so much today—it wasn’t made to impress anybody. It’s unapologetically itself, warts and all.
So yeah, give My Favourite a spin if you’re into music that challenges more than it comforts. Just don’t expect answers—or even clarity. What you’ll get instead is a reminder that sometimes the best things come from places you least expect. Also, seriously, who names a song Buffalo Skateboard? Genius or madness? You decide.
