Lyle Christine



Lyle Christine is not a musician who is comfortable writing about himself in the third-person, but until Spotify increases its shillings and groats royalty rate, Lyle can’t afford a marketing team to take care of important business such as the “artiste biography“.

What you’ve missed: Glasgow-based musician has recorded a few albums of varying quality; what to expect in future: more albums of varying quality followed by a pithy gravestone summary:


He was oft perturbed.

“Glasgow-based“? That’s right eagle-eye, I’m a country boy from Fife originally, hailing from a small village called Kettle where the world’s lettuce is wrapped in cling film and popular children’s entertainers drive about in Jaguars while coked out their skulls. I should have stayed there; what more does a man need than high-quality lettuce, high-quality cocaine and high-quality mawkish folksy drivel?

Moving on, I have recorded 8 albums and currently in production are album 9 and an acoustic album. The acoustic album will not be anything like MTV’s Unplugged (but still mic’d up) series from the 1990’s – it will be modern: I’ll be rapping over a sparse snare/kick backing track in some cringe patois, mewling about a girl I saw while waiting in a queue in Tesco, probably sporting a backwards baseball cap. It will be devoid of any substance, intelligence, emotion or originality; based on current stupidity trends, it will probably make me the world’s first quadrillionaire.

Finally, remember, always keep your skillet good and greasy.

Lyle Christine: patience of a toddler...
radioactive levels of cynicism

Here comes...

An uncomfortable chat about "the music, man"


Christ, I honestly don’t care what’s in your Spotify playlist or your YouTube favourites folder, and you probably shouldn’t care what my albums are about: my albums are the ramblings of a throwback. I’m a crumbling urchin cursed with a condition-of-compulsion which forces me to bake an album every year or so, for better-or-worse. I love writing and recording music; I have no desire to become familiar with the bovine, herd-oriented, hive-mentality corporate bland masses. I have never been to Glastonbury. The number of bands I hate is as long as the horizon is wide… but what’s important is good advice:

Keep Kicking Against the Pricks; Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down; Keep On Truckin’