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I'm back from a fantastically undeserved holiday to a slightly underserved -- but very much welcome -- sack of unheard records.

The problem is, I have no idea how I am going to get through them all. I have people emailing me to ask if have listened to the records they sent and the truth is it would take me twice as long to find it as it would to listen to it.

I am also conscious that in a desperate attempt to always be listening to the latest things, the tunes in the bottom of the bag will probably be regarded as archive material by the time I reach them. If matters couldn't get worse I love the first record I heard. It's by a Kenyan guitar group, Nguuni Lovers Lovers, and the song's called "Beth Kathini" (soon to be released by Dream Beach Records). Listen to it below - I don't want to listen to anything else right now.

Nguuni Lovers Lovers - Beth Kathini by Dream Beach Records  

Oh, oh -- and my favourite new EP, by singer-songwriters Peter and Kerry, is called Clothes, Friends, Photos. It's out now and there is a free track you can download from their record label's website.

Peter and Kerry - The Summer House Song by Tape Club Records 

You listen to these, I'll carry on with this, and we'll reconvene next week.

Tom Ravenscroft's radio show is on BBC 6 Music at 9pm every Friday. He writes a monthly music column for the New Statesman and blogs here every Wednesday

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Why do the words “soup, swoop, loop de loop” come to mind every time I lift a spoon to my lips?

It’s all thanks to Barry and Anita.

A while ago I was lending a friend the keys to our house. We keep spare keys in a ceramic pot I was given years ago by someone who made it while on an art-school pottery course. “That’s er . . . quite challenging,” the friend said of the pot.

“Is it?” I replied. “I’d stopped noticing how ugly it is.”

“Then it’s a grunty,” she said.

“A what?” I asked.

“A grunty. It’s something you have in your house that’s hideous and useless but you’ve stopped noticing it completely, so it’s effectively invisible.”

I was much taken with this idea and realised that as well as “grunties” there are also “gruntyisms”: things you say or do, though the reason why you say or do them has long since been forgotten. For example, every time we drink soup my wife and I say the same thing, uttered in a strange monotone: we say, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop.” How we came to say “soup, swoop, loop de loop” came about like this.

For a married couple, the years between your mid-thirties and your late forties might be seen as the decade of the bad dinner party. You’re no longer looking for a partner, so the hormonal urge to visit crowded bars has receded, but you are still full of energy so you don’t want to stay in at night, either. Instead, you go to dinner parties attended by other couples you don’t necessarily like that much.

One such couple were called Barry and Anita. Every time we ate at their house Barry would make soup, and when serving it he would invariably say, “There we are: soup, swoop, loop de loop.” After the dinner party, as soon as we were in the minicab going home, me and Linda would start drunkenly talking about what an arse Barry was, saying to each other, in a high-pitched, mocking imitation of his voice: “Please do have some more of this delicious soup, swoop, loop de loop.” Then we’d collapse against each other laughing, convincing the Algerian or Bengali taxi driver once again of the impenetrability and corruption of Western society.

Pretty soon whenever we had soup at home, Linda and I would say to each other, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop,” at first still ridiculing Barry, but eventually we forgot why we were saying it and it became part of the private language every couple develop, employed long after we’d gratefully ceased having soupy dinners with Barry and Anita.

In the early Nineties we had an exchange student staying with us for a year, a Maori girl from the Cook Islands in the southern Pacific. When she returned home she took the expression “soup, swoop, loop de loop” with her and spread it among her extended family, until finally the phrase appeared in an anthropological dissertation: “ ‘Soup swoop, loop de loop.’ Shamanistic Incantations in Rarotongan Food Preparation Rituals” – University of Topeka, 2001. 

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt