That's it from me, Gwilym and Lanre will be here for more of the same nonsense tomorrow.

I'll leave you with a rudely titled live film from intense, London-based Joy Division fans Savages. Byee!

On your flickering screens tonight: allotment challenges, naughty schoolboys, (un)happy valleys, suave cannibals, French revolutions and a new Scottish sitcom pilot called Miller's Mountain that our own Ali Catterall promisingly compared to Father Ted. Here's a quick taster.

Recovered from the bank holiday? Time to get back in the saddle.

If you're in Cambridge, go and see The Fall's longest-serving incarnation at The Junction, or Pulled Apart By Horses at the Portland Arms.

If you're in Newcastle, go and see wry singer-songwriter Courtney Barnett at the Cluny.

If you're in Hull, go see and energetic rock'n'roller Ezra Furman at Fruit.

If you're in Leamington Spa, go and see De La Soul re-live the daisy age at the Assembly.

And if you're in London, try not get offended by Miley Cyrus at the O2, featuring artwork from Ren & Stimpy creator John Kricfalusi.

Last night, I also watched The Island With Bear Grylls, in which 14 ordinary blokes are dumped on a desert island to see if they can fend for themselves in the 35 degree heat with nothing to drink except a stagnant pond full of animal faeces. You can watch it for yourself here, and read our Filipa's take on it here.

Silly debates about what constitutes "real" masculinity aside, I found it all quite touching as they worked together to (eventually) start a fire and offered to piss on each other's jellyfish stings. But I couldn't help thinking that what I really wanted to see was a battle of the expert survivalists, rather than the rookie bunglers on offer. If they abandoned Grylls, Bruce Parry and Ray Mears on the same desert island, who would last the longest?

Grylls certainly wouldn't have flinched at widdling on a jellyfish sting, but only if he could have swigged the run-off.

Parry, meanwhile, would probably just block out the whole ordeal by getting bombed out of his skull on some local psychedelic concoction.

Against the odds though, I reckon Mears would probably win. He seems like the survivalist who'd have least compunction about turning cannibal and eating the other two. They could call the show Mears Grylls Parry. Sorry, it's been a long day.

Here are two new rap tunes coming from very different places, both endearingly weird.

First, here's a sighter from Shabazz Palaces' upcoming album for Sub Pop, Lese Majesty.

And here's Segway lover 2 Chainz with Trap Back, from his new mixtape Freebase. Which might not be the wisest thing to call a mixtape the day you are sentenced to a drug diversion programme, but 2 Chainz almost certainly doesn't care what we think.

The new series of 24 started last night, but you probably didn't see it because it aired at 1am to simulcast with the US showing. Don't worry, you've got a second chance to watch Jack Bauer cheat death another 786 times tomorrow. In the meantime, though, I thought we could assess the accuracy of 24's new London setting.

Most of the time, when an American series or director comes to London, they emerge with a completely unrecognisable picture of the capital, usually because they can't be bothered to wander more than a few hundred yards from their cosy Knightsbridge hotels (hello, Woody Allen). Could 24, the most preposterous, disbelief-suspending show on television, really succeed where others have failed?

Yes, actually. The plot's still as daft as ever, but as the following snapshots prove, its portrayal of London is pretty much spot-on.

There are dull, grey skies and double-deckers stuck in traffic:

Blokes who look a bit like Phil Mitchell hanging around market stalls:

Dealers operating from their nan's council flat:

People having to use the stairs because a tramp's crapped in the lift:

The binmen refusing to collect because someone's put recyclable cardboard in the regular bin:

And Stephen Fry is prime minister:

I'll certainly be watching next week to see Jack Bauer trying to board a Central Line train at rush hour, get served within an hour at Meat Liquor and walk through Covent Garden without being accosted by charity muggers.

A tasty little exclusive for you now. For the uninitiated, Black Bananas are a fantastic Cali-based sleaze-rock band led by the inimitable Jennifer Herrema, formerly of Royal Trux. Their new single Physical Emotions embraces the kind of so-hot-right-now 80s electro-funk once practiced by Zapp and Cameo, but unlike yer current generation of milky bedroom bass producers, coats the whole thing in a sticky layer of authentic street slime. Single of the year so far for me.

We posted the audio a couple of weeks back; now here's the video, featuring robotic street dancer extraordinaire Flat Top.

And here's some more of Flat Top, doing his stuff to Erotic Discourse.

While we're on the subject of Beyoncé, have you seen the Carter Family Portrait Gallery? It's the best Tumblr I've seen for at least the last couple of hours, featuring Mrs Carter's face artfully superimposed on to famous paintings.

Although the best ones are those that feature the extended Carter family.

You can see the rest here. The portrait-makers certainly aren't missing a trick – they're already flogging their creations on everything from mugs to pillow cases.

The vast majority of Beyoncé's last album was produced by a relative unknown called Jordan Asher AKA Boots (did anyone tell him he shared a pseudonym with the place you buy your toothpaste and condoms? Guess not). Now he's broken out with his first mixtape, featuring Kelela, Jeremih and Queen Bey herself. It's called WinterSpringSummerFall and it's streaming below.

Thanks Twitterers, specifically Douglas Haddow and Thom Denson: the guy who looks eerily familiar in the Gotham trailer is not Hank from Breaking Bad but of course his close relative Major Rawls from the Wire.

Well, you can see where we were coming from. Put it this way, I wouldn't want to be investigated by either of them.

Well bugger me sideways on the pool table of the Good Mixer. I've just been sent, in all seriousness, the new single from reformed Britpop chancers and at-sign-early-adopters Menswe@r. It's basically just singer Johnny and some other blokes who've been preserved in aspic from the bar of the Camden Underworld in 1995, but it still sounds unmistakably like Menswe@r, which is to say unspeakably awful. But worth a giggle.

Producers of comic book adaptations have lately become obsessed with backstories. You might have thought Batman's "origin story" had already been rinsed by Batman Begins etc, but Fox's upcoming series Gotham goes even further back, to Bruce Wayne's childhood and the nascent misdemeanours of his future foes Penguin, Riddler and Poison Ivy.

It stars Ryan from The OC as a young Commissioner Gordon, Lee Toric from Sons Of Anarchy as his colleague Detective Harvey Bullock, and someone who looks like Hank from Breaking Bad but perhaps isn't given that I can't see Dean Norris's name on IMBD.

Here's the faintly bombastic trailer.

This Hank lookalike is bothering me now. Any ideas?

Come in, grab a seat, make yourself comfortable. We've got lots of juicy stuff to share with you today, so let's start with Usher's new single. For a guy often portrayed as a cliched R&B loverman, he regularly comes out with some startling pop tunes (see also: Yeah, Climax). This clever, minimalist beat reminds me a bit of Sign O' The Times, with strong notes of D'Angelo circa Brown Sugar. Enjoy.