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Film your own atrocities is perhaps the greatest work of art in the history of western civilisation. It is at once a philosophical treatise on the human condition, a veritable smorgasbord of transcendent melodic delights, an abstract meditation on the nature of the universe and a cure for piles. Just buy it, already.

If you purchase one of the CDs from this site, we'll throw in a free mini-album, the small but perfectly formed Peep-show etiquette.

And yes, we do ship to places outside of the UK. No matter where you are in the world. all of this can be yours for a ridiculously modest £8.99.

What can we say about this fine album? We could say that if you buy it, you will see a truly dramatic improvement in your love life, but that would be a somewhat hollow promise. All we can offer is 12 literate, punchy and thoughtful songs that will sit nicely in your extremely tasteful record collection. We can pretty much guarantee some nice tunes and a few interesting thoughts on sex, celebrity, love, money, parenthood and serial killers.

And yes, we do ship to places outside of the UK. No matter where you are in the world, all of this can be yours for a paltry £8.99.

Delicate and dreamy, this song wallows in the sweet pain of infatuation, sounding for all the world like a slightly tipsy Beautiful South trying to impersonate XTC.

A song about the desire to create yet more pointless art doesn't sound that promising, but the chorus, as the saying goes, "kicks ass". Imagine an angry Crowded House, embarrassed at having to appear on an Austrian TV show with a performing seal.

A brief assault on the senses, crammed with retro synths, a disco bassline, crashing powerchords and harmonies straight out of the Beatles songbook. The line "You learn from experience that you don't learn much from experience" is key to illustrating the folly of the world created by the self-deluding losers in this song.

This song reflects on some of the nasty little calculations that we make in our everyday lives. If Morrissey had joined Squeeze instead of The Smiths, he might have sounded like this. Pure pop for now people, as they used to say.

This has been described as "a cross between The The and Aimee Mann", which I would take as a compliment. It's definitely more bitter than sweet, as it imagines two people tearing each other apart, one day at a time (sweet Jesus).

An acoustic meditation on the perfidy of politicians and con-men, all of those clever folk who can pull imaginary rabbits out of hats. Does the world really need another Napoleon? I think not.

A bit like Travis trying to impersonate ELO, with strings and everything, this song has big drums, big guitars, big vocals and a big chorus. And while we're on the "big" theme, the lyric suggests that life is like a big 10,000-piece jigsaw, only there might be several bits missing.

A melancholic little song, featuring guitar, cello and some very fine bongos. Imagine Neil Finn being asked to write an astrology column for Cosmopolitan. You can dream all you want, but alas the world is only as it is, not as how we would like it to be.

A cacophonous rant on fame, hypocrisy and hubris. If Elvis Costello wasn't doing opera or something, and he decided to write a sneering song about a crazy celebrity couple, this would be it. The idea was to scratch the glossy surface of celebrity and find, not just vapidity, but a real heart of darkness ... but in a funny way.

It's very difficult to write something about being a parent without coming over all soppy, but this light and airy little song has a decent stab at it. The jazzy drum loop and fine lyrical guitar keep it just on the right side of the taste barrier. If nothing else, it will embarrass my kids.

With some chords straight out of the Joni Mitchell-wannabee songbook, this downbeat piece uses just acoustic guitar and voice to tell a story about two people who are close, but not close enough. As another song famously said: "Istanbul was Constantinople, now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople".

This was inspired by a news story about a religious figurine that was reported to have wept real tears. The song's unhinged narrator is angry and bitter, he owns a gun and he's as dumb as a bucket of mud. You could say that he's ticking a lot of the wrong boxes. A big shout-out to potential rampagists everywhere.