Robbie Williams is not going it alone

There's something fascinating about watching Robbie Williams strutting around, showing off, without any sense of self-awareness at all.

During another one of his interminable series of evenings filling the A421 (it seems there's not a single Williams fan who is capable of driving safely when they come to a roundabout; the sound of the dull thuds floating over to ours in the evening is book-ended by the sound of sequences of angry horn-blasting at all the intersections) Williams turned his attention to the recent Take That reunion:

"They asked me to join them and for a minute, it pulled on my heartstrings," he said.

"But then I realised I'd sold three million tickets for my own tour. What can you do?"

Well, not cancel an entire continent's worth of dates, for a start? Come on, Robbie, surely even you realise this sort of needy braggarding is unattractive in the extreme?

Apart from anything, quite a few of your own fans, the ones who've followed you since you were part of the That, might have liked to have seen the reunion. (It also would have hacked off people like me who didn't.)

And if the "I'm too important to guest on someone else's show" is the standard, what does that say about Jonathan Wilkes, coming out night after night? Is there any more obvious way of pointing out that he hasn't sold three million tickets for anything? Or indeed any?

"He's the Ant to my Dec" explains Williams, which might be how it looks from his side; from where we're standing, he's the Wall Street Crash to Williams' Paul Squire.

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