No Rock And Roll Fun

WHAT THE POP PAPERS SAY: The covermounted weekly review of the music press
When Word first launched, we seem to recall Mark Ellen making it clear that this was a different sort of magazine; promising it wouldn't fall back on the easy allure of cover mounting CDs as a way of attracting our attention. We suspected at the time this was a not very subtle code for "we can't afford to give away CDs"; were it really a touchstone, it's a principle that's been abandoned this month, as Word finally gives us the marketing equivalent of a knee trembler. It's not a bad CD - although it's got Bebel Gilberto on it, which is usually akin to hanging out a big sign saying "Dinner Party Inside" - offering Franz Ferdiand, Dogs Die In Hot Cars and Jolie Holland.

The 'people you've heard of saying things they like' bit features Paul Weller, who admits that "if I try to read a book it takes me months" - which confirms that when he posed with a copy of 1984 for the back page of Smash Hits he was just, well, posing. Andrea Corr confesses to a love of Nik Kershaw, and Kirsten Dunst begs that we don't make sport of her for enjoying Coldplay.

Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen reckons he spends six thousand quid on a shag, by the time he's paid a babysitter and flown the wife to Venice. It would work out cheaper to just fuck the babysitter, Larry.

With Morrissey back and on something close to a charm offensive (even organising Meltodwn to avoid a clash with football matches, if you please), Mark E Smith seems to be left alone to fly the flag for Manc Miserablism. And fly it he does - talking to David Cavanagh, he almost confesses to a spell of depression just after the wife-beating business. "It lasted a year or two... it's called too much fucking whiskey, to be honest with you." More cheerfully, he also talks about turning his back on Mute when they started making "suggestions" about how the album should sound.

We heartily recommend Mark Ellen's slightly grumpy "if you told kids that today..." history of early rock festivals, especially since it sneers at this year's innovation, which is your tent will light up if you send it a text message. Bloody hell, why don't they go the whole hog and relocate to a bloody Marriott Courtyard? Less welcome is a seventy-eight page retrospective of - go on, guess. No, sir, not Nick Drake, but thank you for playing. Yes, indeed, that would mean this month it's Jeff Buckley. There is something slightly poignant in that the last song he ever sang was the theme from Top of the Pops, but... how many more times must the tale be told? Can't we just have a brief period - let's say a year - without needing to run through their tragedies all over again? We could call it a morbid moratorium.

If Word turning up at your front door clutching a shrinkwrapped CD is unexpected, if someone had told this time last year the NME would be hooking up with Morrissey to produce a covermount CD, you'd be walking backwards with a fixed grin as fast as possible. And yet, here it is: John Betjeman, Gene, even Raymonde (bloody hell, the last time they'd been attached to the front of a magazine it would have been one of the Record Mirror vinyl giveaways). Excellent all round.

The excitement of a Mozz CD has meant there's a double cover thing going on; the cover proper would have been the Red Hot Chili Peppers - we're not certain, but we think this might have been their first NME cover ever, unless we've blacked out something horrible from our minds. (We expect to be told we're wrong on this one in about fifteen minutes).

Sadly, the big picture is Pete Doherty being given a big hug as he goes off to clean up in Thailand, Alan Mcgee's words "he might even reject the West" ringing in his ears. As it turns out, it looks like he's rejected everything. Troubled stars are everywhere this week, as Craig Nicholl's recent break-up is considered in an extraordinary piece (and we mean that in a good way) by Dan Martin, which ends observing "too often in rock you can be forgiven for injecting yourself with as much heroin as you like, but if your reaction becomes erratic, the only reaction you can expect is ridicule. How can anybody begin to address the stigma that is mental illness if not even the people paid to safeguard an artist's well being can bring themselves to use those two words together?" It's a great piece, rightfully angry that Nicholl's employers - the record label - have done fuck all to help him, and trying to restore some dignity and sympathy to someone whose behaviour has left him with precious little of either of late. It's slightly undermined by, a couple of pages later, the My Red Cell piece making the lazy, clumsy misuse of Schizophrenic ("we're one band... the next, we're like another") that Geri Halliwell fucked up with.

In other news: Caleb from the Kings of Leon has shaved off the beard; unfortunately, he's not cut the hair, which leaves him looking like he might know the Statue of Liberty is buried somewhere outside.

Peter Robinson hooks up with Tim Rice-Oxley out of Keane. Mr. Rice-Oxley asks Mr. Robinson not to make up anything to make them sound interesting.

Do Me Bad Things - who are rather good - are the radar band. Blimey, big bands are the thing these days, aren't they? Whatever happened to the three-piece?

!!! are quite proud that they were the only band to get political at coachella - although that would make us a bit depressed, to be honest, if that were us.

The posters are "rare and unseen" rock things - all feels a little bit Uncut. And one of them's the bloody Beatles. Oh, and there's also an interview with Avid Merion, who really seems determined to try and wear out a welcome. Oh yes, you've got a rubber face on. Ho-ho. Surely doing a routine about Craig David in 2004 is on a par with Mike Yarwood's desperate trotting out of Harold Wilson in the early 80s? And at least Yarwood could do Wilson's voice.

reviews
live
the hidden cameras - shepherds bush hall - "have your cake and fuck it"
him - download festival - "80's metal in nu-Goth clothing"

albums
the cure - the cure - "not an easy album to love, but...", 8
the concretes - the concretes - "'chico' is currently the best song about a talking cat", 9
ministry - houses of the mole - "Ministry? Lovely?", 7

singles
sotw
shystie - one wish - "its the return of the bad gyal"
the zutons - remember me - "cutsey retro delight"

and, finally, Al Murray loves David Bowie. Well, they've both done commercials.