The rise of the Snuts and Dry Cleaning has been heralded as a great rock comeback but, more importantly, it is also conclusive proof that we’ve officially run out of band names. With the entire dictionary stripped bare by desperate “the” bands, many have resorted to just making up sounds now: the Snuts, the Hunna and the Lathums might as well be called the Shmurgleshnurgles, the Bleurghs or the Phraaaarpexcusemes. It’s not just indie acts who are at it. Most rappers are taking on the monikers of bow-tied child entertainers from the 1930s: see Yung Bleu and Lil’ Dicky. Every other new electropop act expects me to know all of the hieroglyphic secrets lurking behind my keyboard’s Option key, and there are so many random Vs, double-vowels and intentional misspellings dropped into names for legal reasons that review sites now read like anti-lockdown Facebook comments.