INTEREST PEAKS: XRRF has had its most popular twenty-four hours - not because of our overview of the Grammys or the Brat awards, but because people are looking for any information on the R Kelly shagging video. Obviously a large number of people are keen to "prove it's not him".

IF IT GETS US ON JUST ONE CHAT SHOW, IT'LL BE WORTH IT:Curious that couple emerge with pictures of their dead, drug raddled daughter the day after Leah Bett's parents suddenly made a random attack on Travis - surely la famille Bett couldn't have been trying to keep their position as the nation's number one drug tragedy family, could they?
Anyway, here we go again: Bright, happy smart girl, "if it could happen to her it could happen to anyone" - really? is that a fact? To *anyone*?, "challenging stereotypes of drug users" - hidden message being "Dammit, this is serious - Middle class children are dying"
Oh, and there's this:
Mr Holcroft said: "There'll be a point in a child's life when someone says 'try that'. They'll be put into a circle where they are encouraged to try things and experiment."
Drug offers being as common as Richard Scarry books, of course.
What's happening here, and with the Betts, of course, is an interesting reaction to grief. The parents try to keep their kids alive by starting a crusade in their name, while simultaneously trying to offload their guilt - it can't have been anything *we* did, it must be something that could have happened to anyone; there must have been a point at which Our Daughter was signed up to become Drug addict.
It's very sad, of course. And as a warning to future drug users, it's pointless. No heroin user is ever going to end up dead with a needle in their arm. Sure, it happens. But it happens to other people.
BBC reports - Don't take drugs, kids - your parents will make a public show of your corpse if you do...

DO YOU THINK I GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE GRAMMYS?: Well, for a start I do wonder why the plural isn't Grammies. And why are they 'Grammys" at all? Why not the Grams? Anyway, let's look at what won:
Record Of The Year: Walk On - U2
Hmmm. Well, I'm sure my opinion on Bono doesn't need to be repeated here. Oh, fuck it, I can't help myself - he's a twat, and this is an obvious mistake. As in, it's a mistake to laud U2, but the reasons for doing so are obvious - it allows the US industry to pretend that they're still a radical bunch of outsiders, even although they've gone for the equivalent of an Independent leader column.
Album Of The Year: O Brother, Where Art Thou? - Soundtrack
Curious choice, and suggests something of a cultural-field cringe. Let's take soundtracks seriously - we might make some money from them. Crossover potential. Bridget Jones Diary 2 has to be a favourite for next year.
Song Of The Year: Fallin' - Alicia Keys, songwriter (Alicia Keys)
What can you say? It's a nice enough song, although if this was the best song written in 2001, it suggests that Anita Baker was the emperor queen of the twentieth century...
Best New Artist - Alicia Keys
She writes all her own songs, too. At least you can see what the Grammys are getting at here - unless she overpacks her plane or suddenly starts to smash up her house, it's like Ms Keys has a long career ahead of her. So, while there mayn't be much novelty about her, and she may be a "oh, yeah, her" type of act, she's got potential to still be around in 2022. Mind you, they probably though that about Mariah until she bought the first bikini top.
Pop
Best Female Pop Vocal Performance: I'm Like A Bird - Nelly Furtado
Smelly Fartdildo gets her first award. This is an interesting category - less about being able to sing, more given for showing off, and Nelly is an apt winner. Her "vocal performance" was the aural equivalent of Anya's floor-hogging grandstanding dancing in Once More With Feeling
Best Male Pop Vocal Performance : Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight - James Taylor
Haven't heard this, but I do feel like I have. There really are no mass-appeal solo male artists worth the oxygen, are there?
Best Pop Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal: Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of - U2
A second trip to the rostrum for U2. Craftsmanship rewarded. All right with the world. Dull as a shit, but right with the world.
Best Pop Collaboration With Vocals: Lady Marmalade - Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya & Pink
Do they always have this award, or has it been invented purely to give a prize to this bunch? If it has, good work the Grammy people. Other category titles you could have considered would have been "Idea that looks bad on paper makes ace monster prize" or "Award for persuading Christina to dress like the little whore she undoutably is"
Best Pop Instrumental Performance: Reptile - Eric Clapton
I have never heard this, but then I have only got an estimated forty more years on earth, and that's not enough time to waste on the pocket Enoch and his noodling. Hey - noodling. U2 noodle too, don't they? This must be what the Grammys are set up to award. Nelly Furtardo is a noodler - like Queen of the Singing Noodling, Whitney. It's starting to make sense.
Best Dance Recording: All For You - Janet Jackson
There have been, approximately, sixty five thousand dance tracks released in the last twelve months. This isn't the best of them. Its not even the best Janet Jackson release of the last twelve months. And you can't even swing your booty to it. Its not often I'm prepared to suggest that Fatboy Slim was robbed, but...
Best Pop Instrumental Album: No Substitutions – Live In Osaka - Larry Carlton & Steve Lukather
Eh?
Best Pop Vocal Album : Lovers Rock - Sade
"Sade's back"
"Quick, hide the smack..."
"No, she's clean. She's made a new record. She sounds exactly like she used to."
"Oh. Wasn't that meant to be incredible?"
"Yes. Blimey, she must still be the best pop vocalist around, then, mustn't she?"
Traditional Pop
Best Traditional Pop Vocal Album: Songs I Heard - Harry Connick, Jr.
What is this category all about? Is it some sort of joke at Frank Sinatra's expense. Interestingly, Songs I heard echoes the title of Waste's album, Songs you've never heard. Maybe they should do some sort of swap-cover-tribute deal?
Rock
Best Female Rock Vocal Performance: Get Right With God - Lucinda Williams
Excellent. Someone we love wholeheartedly gets an award. Go, Lucinda.
Best Male Rock Vocal Performance: Dig In - Lenny Kravitz
Normal service resumed quickly. Lenny Kravitz is another one of those people, like Sade, who exist solely to win awards, don't you think? Have you ever met anyone who actually likes him? Thought not. If it wasn't for the secret ballot, he wouldn't exist. Imagine that world for a moment.
Best Rock Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal: Elevation - U2
Is this the third award so far for a film tie-in? Look, maybe we could co-hire a hall with the Oscars next year, couldn't we...?
Best Hard Rock Performance: Crawling - Linkin Park
Actually, I must admit of all this sort of band, I have the least-hard spot for Linkin Park. Whereas Durst and the boys come across as chancers who are filling a gap in the market, at least the Park sound like they'd be doing this even if it wasn't for the naked fourteen year old sub-breasts they get to sign. This is probably why Crawling does sound like a hard rock performance, rather than an impression of a rock band. Plus, I like the idea of Durst sitting there going "It must be me... must be..."
Best Metal Performance: Schism - Tool
A strange sub-category that honours both Lucinda Williams and Tool, don't you think?
Best Rock Instrumental Performance: Dirty Mind - Jeff Beck
Blimey, are you still going?
Best Rock Song: Drops Of Jupiter
A song by Train, apparently. The band took their name in umbrage when the Bunnymen suggested there was nothing romantic left in America - apparently they thought the train was. Long, lumbering, stuck to a predetermined route, dirty but not in a good way? Strangely apt, isn't it?
Best Rock Album: All That You Can't Leave Behind - U2
No, no it wasn't. Did the form have "U2, or other on it?
Alternative Music
Best Alternative Music Album: Parachutes - Coldplay
Surely the Americans can see that there is nothing alternative about Coldplay? Except, perhaps, in the unlikely sense the award is given to "an acceptable alternative to Travis." I know a British victory should be something to make me smile, and that the fact that had it not been for an incredible amount of patience and rebuilding on the part of the team at Parr Street, the album would have been unlistenable, but for the only alternative prize to go to something so flat, so mainstream, so devoid of ambition or experimentation irks. It's like going to a zoo to see the dangerous cats, and being shown three tabbies climbing bookcases that haven't quite been fixed to the wall.
R&BBest Female R&B Vocal Performance: Fallin' - Alicia Keys
Still, I hope the musical purists have got over the re-assignment of the term "R&B" over the past few years...
Best Male R&B Vocal Performance: U Remind Me - Usher
Oh, Jesus. If I cast my mind back to when this was on the radio every bloody two minutes, I spose I could be honest and say it was well performed. Maybe "Biggest waste of a voice on a piece of paper-light nothingness" instead?
Best R&B Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal: Survivor - Destiny's Child
Again, while its only right that the Child win some sort of award, its curious that this is the one that they've given Beyonce the bunce for. Maybe that Charlies Angels track fell outside the time frame in the US. Maybe the only other option would have been the Christmas album.
Best R&B Song: Fallin' - Alicia Keys, songwriter (Alicia Keys)
all her own songs, you know. Every one. Like Oleta Adams. Okay, bad example. Let's try Tracy Chapman... opps...
Best R&B Album: Songs In A Minor- Alicia Keys
Tanita Tickaram? I know, how about Sade?
Best Traditional R&B Vocal Album: At Last - Gladys Knight
Probably what Gladys said by the time they got to her award, too...
Rap
Best Rap Solo Performance: Get Ur Freak On- Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott
Quiet... shut your mouth... Okay, she's no Roxanne Shante, but she's still impressive as hell.
Best Rap Performance By A Duo Or Group: Ms. Jackson - Outkast
I'm not sure I'd have called this rap - wasn't most of it sung? Certainly the hook was. The rappy bit ("forever ever ever ever") was ill-conceived and lightweight. A good pop song, but giving it this award is like praising Mr Kipling for his presentation.
Best Rap/Sung Collaboration: Let Me Blow Ya Mind - Eve Featuring Gwen Stefani
Curoously, the Grammys panel seem to be on safer ground when they're awarding prizes in what they clearly think of as the 'black' music categories. Either that, or my tastes are as painfully white and co-optive as the awards teams...
Best Rap Album: Stankonia - Outkast
Probably just pipped pink to the post, don't you think?
Country
Best Female Country Vocal Performance: Shine - Dolly Parton
Best Male Country Vocal Performance: O Death - Ralph Stanley
Best Country Performance By A Duo Or Group With Vocal: The Lucky One - Alison Krauss + Union Station
Best Country Collaboration With Vocals: I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow- Dan Tyminski, Harley Allen & Pat Enright (The Soggy Bottom Boys)
Best Country Instrumental Performance:Foggy Mountain Breakdown - Earl Scruggs, Glen Duncan, Randy Scruggs, Steve Martin, Vince Gill, Marty Stuart, Gary Scruggs, Albert Lee, Paul Shaffer, Jerry Douglas & Leon Russell
Best Country Song: The Lucky One - Robert Lee Castleman, songwriter (Alison Krauss + Union Station)
Best Country Album: Timeless – Hank Williams Tribute
Best Bluegrass Album: New Favorite - Alison Krauss + Union Station
Hmmm... you wouldn't exactly know we were in the midst of the biggest country paradigm shift since New Country, would you? The sort of list of prize winners which wouldn't have looked out of place in 1973, on the whole...
New Age
Best New Age Album: A Day Without Rain - Enya
Much as I dislike Enya, I have to feel sorry for her being poked away in the New Age category - and also for all those Pan Pipe versions of Eminem tunes which would have been in with a shout here otherwise

Best Musical Album For Children :Elmo And The Orchestra - Sesame Street Characters) Ed Mitchell, producer
Apparently Big Bird has just recorded a cover version of I Still Havent Found What I'm Looking For. This is not a joke, either.
Best Spoken Word Album: Q: The Autobiography Of Quincy Jones (Quincy Jones)
Unlcear if this contains the story of him kicking the shit out of Michael Jackson to stop him going "wooo" during the recording of Billie Jean
mposer & lyricist (Original Broadway Cast With Nathan Lane & Matthew Broderick)
Best Compilation Soundtrack Album For A Motion Picture, Television Or Other Visual Media : O Brother, Where Art Thou?- (Various Artists)
Probably a safe bet, as it had been peppering the other categories, and it was, of course, a fine OST. In fact, there have been so many delicious soundtracks recently, there should be a proper awards ceremony for movie music. There probably already is, but, you know, it should be on TV.
Best Score Soundtrack Album For A Motion Picture, Television Or Other Visual Media : Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon- Tan Dun, composer
Joss, get OMWF out soon; if you can't crack the Emmys, there's always the Grammys...
Best Song Written For A Motion Picture, Television Or Other Visual Media :Boss Of Me (From Malcolm In The Middle)- John Flansburgh & John Linnell, songwriters (They Might Be Giants)
... and if this is the level they're expecting, you should waltz away with this category in 03, too...
Best Recording Package : Amnesiac (Special Limited Edition)- Stanley Donwood & Tchocky, art directors (Radiohead)
Wake up, England... the nice library book style box wins a prize. So, at the Brats, Radiohead get a video award, and at the Grammys, it's the CD box prize. Doesn't say much for the quality of the music that they win prizes for everything but...
Best Historical Album: Lady Day: The Complete Billie Holiday On Columbia 1933-1944
"historical" here is a euphemism for repackaging/re-releasing. You can't quibble with Billie Holiday getting a prize, of course, even if you dislike the euphemism...
Best Short Form Music Video : Weapon Of Choice - Fatboy Slim Featuring Bootsy Collins
Dancing Christopher Walken, of course. While it's a good video, it's a bit of a slight idea to award some sort of prize to, don't you think?
If you want to see the full list of winners, including the ones we couldn't hope to have commented on, check out the official site

TRAVIS DROPS ONE, DROPS BOLLOCK When the odious Betts woman has a pop at Travis, you wonder which side you should be cheering for, don't you? Leah Bett's mother has apparently got on her soapbox to attack the blandscots for saying that they'd experimented with virtually every drug. Apparently unable to understand what "experimented with" means (and this woman has spent the last seven years trying to influence drug policies in this country?), she told the Scottish Daily Record "I hope they've stopped taking them." Yes. Experiment means try; Using means regular use. Understand?
But why would anti-drugs campaigners object to Travis saying they take drugs anyway? Surely the thought that you might end up a whey-faced pigeon-chest like Fran Healy is enough to put anyone off the Mitsubishis for life...
NME reports - but they've never done heroin or glue. What sorts of Scots nationalists are they?

R KELLY? NOT ON YOUR NELLY... So, apparently the internet is chock full of videos of R Kelly having sex with a fourteen year old girl. What's great about this story, though, is the reasons people are giving for having the film - "journalistic purposes", "to prove it isn't him", 'we wouldn't care if the girl was 50 - people only want to see it because it's him" - creating the interesting possibility that a film of a person shagging a child isn't kiddie porn providing the person is more interesting than the child...
NME reports - I'd rather not see him with his trousers off at all, ta

FOR ONE WEEK ONLY: Usually, if you want bothsidesnow's What the Pop Papers Say review, you have to be subscribed to the list. But because I wanted to say some things about the Carling Awards, this week I'm folding the mail into XRRF, too. And you can't stop me.
Time magazine's cover this week: Bono. Headline: Can Bono Save The World? Answer: Don't be so fucking stupid. If anyone worried that the cobbling together of the AOL Time Warner megalith would mean that standards at Time would slip, there's your proof. More worrying is the way this gives more puff to Bono's self-importance balloon...

Having closed L&K, BBC magazines are about to launch It's Hot, a junior Heat. Not to be confused with Monkey, the junior Heat being developed by the Heat team, or Hot Stars, the attempt to appeal to the Heat generation that comes with OK! Or, of course, with Star, which was an attempt to make a junior version of Hello, closed by the BBC. So, having closed a junior version of Hello, the BBC are trying to launch a junior version of Heat, which was... um, a twentysomething version of Hello...

This month The Face has Shaggy and Ali G on the cover. What is The Face now? What is it for? Why? Why?...

The nme has The Strokes (or the nme's Jordan) on the cover. And a little picture of Lostprophets saying "move over Linkin Park, we're the zeitgeist" - look, two are giving two fingers, and one is giving one finger. Ooooh, mummy, the zeitgeist is rude...

so, do you know what time of the year it is, janice? It's poll time... here are the winners from the Bra... opps, the Beer-supported NME poll:

Band of the year: The Strokes
Album of the year: Is This It?
Best New Act: The Strokes

Interestingly, though, W**K didn't register in the 'new act' poll. Clearly, the readers aren't DOING AS THEY ARE TOLD.

Best solo artist: Ian Brown

They're taking the piss, aren't they? Ian Brown? What scale are people voting on here - "Hmmm, there's Kylie, PJ Harvey... no, Ian Brown. He's the one..."

Musical Event of the Year: The Carling Weekend

This is what used to be called the Reading Festival, before Vince 'Glasto is safe in our hands' Power sold it as a pot to piss in. The sponsors of the nme awards are... oh, Carling. Strangely, the rival Tenents sponsored T in the Park didn't even make the shorlist

Best Live Venue: Brixton Academy

Is it just us, or does it seem that the NME tends to review more events here than anywhere else?

Best Radio Show: Evening Session

Strange that Christian O'Connell, who was so pisspoor he almost killed Juice singlehanded, was a runner-up

Single of the Year: Ash - Burn Baby Burn

Well, you can argue, but you can't complain

Best Dance Act: Basement Jaxx

Dance you can think to, of course. nmeland's distance from dance illustrated by the appearance of Fatboy Slim in the runners-up

Best HipHop/Rap act: Missy E

Well, duh...

Best Pop Act: Kylie

Also known as 'Smash Hits Poll Winners Party' category

Best Music Video: Pyramid Song - radiohead

No, no, there must be some mistake - radiohead don't make videos, do they? Surely you mean 'Best culturally guying blipvert', don't you?

Best R&B/Soul Act: Aaliyah

"Unfortunately, aaliyah can't be with us..."

Best Metal group: Lostprophets

Two single fingers and vagina symbol in the accompanying photo. No Dursty in sight.

Best film: Moulin Rouge

American Pie II was shortlisted. Does anyone remember when NME readers, um, read?

Godlike genius award: Nick Kent & Pennie Smith

Nick kent must have been delighted to get this. Its like awarding the Nobel Prize for Literature in the middle of the Ronald McDonald Colour-Me-Clown competition prizegiving

Villain of the year: Osama Bin Laden
Hero of the year: New York Emergency Services

By numbers, isn't it?. The album of the year, of course, includes a searing condemnation of New York City Cops. Hmmm.

But we've saved the best 'til last -
Best website: nme.com

stick it up your fucking arse, nme. Any self-respecting organisation would have put their raffle ticket back in the box and insisted it got drawn again...

still, respect to Matt Lucas and David Williams for their indie-piss takes. Lucas as Meg White is uncanny...

other news: nme trumpeting sales rise - "best for five years", they trill. The rises were less than one half of one per cent over six months, and point six percent over the year as a whole. This being a year in which they had no direct competition at all, of course; glasto goes on - strangely, Eavis says he's in charge of the music, and Mean Fiddler in charge of security. Hmmm, but who's in charge of the stuff in between - the markets, the sponsorships, the bits that make money?; Oasis are going to play a gig in some parks in London. Other parks are available, so don't worry; The Doves are the latest band to try to pull the "single available for one day only" scam - no it won't be, deleting it on the day of release merely means that once the large piles left around on shop shelves are finally flogged off, there won't be any more pressed. That is all...

gossip which the hacks couldn't work out who it was about when they read it on popbitch: dance star proposed to his girlfriend cause he didn't want to be left out; welsh stadium rock band writes letters to Teletext when his band are slagged off (gotta be one of the Manics, surely?); over-sized singer smells...

and who do we have in on? american head charge - more nu metal. how splendid; timo maas - some sort of german dance act; jetplane landing - punk climbs from ruins of cuckoo. No women. Kylie, you'll still be needed for next year's awards...

Lostprophets think POD being on CD:UK is evidence of people "coming round to our way of thinking" - which would be, what? We need something to throw to the pack while Fred The Flowerman Durst blows in the wind?...

In the midst of all this, there is Cornershop. A nice piece, they lament the lack of good bands and sound like people who are enjoying themselves. For a moment, you remember why you love music, and the people who make it...

Princess Superstar does the ten-tracks for a CD thingy. She says music should be free, which means you're free to go and pinch bad babysitter from the shop. She also chooses Karma Police and Station to Station. Can she come to tea?...

How do you make a perfect animated group? Asks the NME. How do you fill two pages on a slow week? asks the readers...

"New" section alert - it's The Critics. Which is, um, the reviews section with a slightly different layout. It looks crisper, but - oh, I dunno - somehow more suited to an A4 magazine format than a tabloid. Oh, and they have less words than ever before in them. What do we have, then?

Albums: ...AYWKUBTTOD - source tags & codes ("killing can wait for another day. For now, we dance", 8); Teenage Fanclub & Jad Fair - words of wisdom and hope ("a throwback",6)

Singles. Strangely, the nme are now getting lots of people to do the singles, and they cover two and a half pages. This is very, very wrong. Lots of singles is good, but what value is a single of the week (Hundred Reasons - If I could) when it's been chosen at some sort of random, rather than by someone working their way through the pile of new things? Plus, it means that when two single reviews are linked together, they're actually split up. There is, however, a worst single prize now, and this week it is Jennifer Lopez's remix thing...

live: strokes at leeds uni ("for now, no-one can touch them"); kittie in camden ("it's dark and hell is hot"); Pet Shop Boys at the Astoria ("pedestrian") Um, nothing at the Brixton Academy. Oh...

there are four fanzines in the classifieds - signs of a resurgence (Ok, one is True To You, but...)

I'll bet thats our sean in angst, you know.

SEATTLE: GOOD AT MOPPING UP?: Interesting piece from The Stranger about a singer in a marginally well-known Seattle band (and, before you ask, I have no idea who) who's been accused of rape. The writer Kathleen Wilson details how the local music scene has rallied to close ranks and protect the accused, but in order to raise the question as to why such community is never shown before things have spun out of control. I guess this is true of pretty much any local music scene - there's very little support on offer for people who are heading off the rails (and there are always a lot, music being an industry with an enormous amount of room for failiure, fucking-up and fears, with the added extras of public humiliation and easy-find drugs). Maybe this is something the organisations who attempt to develop music on local or regional bases could usefully be employed to do - rather than buy drums and undermine local promoters by putting on free showcases, why not work on providing some sort of "pastoral" support structure for local musicians? If, say, Merseyside is going to establish itself as a sight of musical talent, it might be a good idea to try and help that talent before it gets banged-up, bonged-off or bundled-up.
Community? [The Stranger] - for once, "no names" is used for some purpose other than the frission of "I know something you don't know"

ALL YOUR DATA IS BELONG TO US: If you're using Windows Media Player, everything you run through it - CD tracks, DVD movies, MP3s - is being noted down, and can be reported back to BillGatesCentral in Seattle. Right now, Microsoft say they don't have any plans to do anything with the data - but they would, wouldn't they? Even if they don't sell it, this information is worth tonnes to them. You might want to try some other players...
Intelligentx reports - while Bill Gates snort derisively at your Incubus habit
Alternatives discussed - we use i-tunes, but then we love Macs...

QUOTE: Laurence Robinson, salesman-turned-tenor: "There are similarities between selling and singing, because as a singer, you're obviously selling yourself..." Especially if you're Danni Minogue, of course.

VIDEO SAVES THE ROCK STAR AT KILLING?: Hmmm, so Fred Durst is now offering to testify at the inquest into the Squished Bizkit fan death in Australia. Only, of course, he's too busy to actually go to Australia so he's offering to do it over videolink. Nice, Fred - no danger of perjuring yourself through a videolink, is there? And, of course, if you sit firmly at home chatting down an ISDN line, you can keep up the pretence of giving a shit about your fans while simultaneously keeping yourself safe from being served with a private prosecution for your part in the tragedy.
Of course, maybe you have nothing to worry about from such a private prosecution - perhaps the allegations that, despite having concerns about the safety of the security of the event, you encouraged the audience to bait the front of house guys trying to sort out the problem are little more than tittle-tattle. After all, a friend of the girl who died has defended your behaviour as "trying to communicate with the audience on their own level." Is your schedule really so busy that you can't find a week to help get to the truth behind the death of a fan - one of the fans you claim to be the sole motivation of what you do? And, whatever the truth is, it's clear there was a serious problem with safety at the event. Don't you feel a duty to get involved with trying to make sure that never happens again?
Are you really too busy, or are you just trying to cover your ass?

durst defended at inquest [NME] - How do you communicate with Bizkit fans on their own level?
durst slammed at inquest [dotmusic] - but maybe he was too busy to get to the hospital, too?
durst slams inquest [dotmusic] - and the way people keep reporting it
contemperaneous report says Durst stopped concert "frequently" to encourage crowd to move back [BBC] - if true, Fred is getting a pretty raw deal in the inquest
Durst offers to testify via video [BBC] -Let's hope its more convincing than his bit at the start of the My way video...

EPITONIC FOR THE TROOPS: Having stopped to snigger at the description of indie on the epitonic site the other day, I was going to go on to praise what is a wonderful trove of musical-shaped gems, but didn't get the chance as Italian food intervened. If I thought I was going to forget, I was forced to think again at gunpoint this morning when my inbox contained a mailout announcing that Jane Pow has been added to their already impressive roster of acts. Jane Pow, Southampton's finest, toast of the turn of the last decade, and - and this is important - a band endorsed by a tshirt worn by Marguerite (her wardrobe ran from Ride to Whipping Boy, and was never proved wrong.) They've also got 14 Iced Bears stuff available, which is even better.
Epitonic - more than merely a quick wank gag

CAUGHT IN A PRISON OF THEIR OWN MAKING: You wonder if the record industry are starting to wish they'd left Napster alone, since the fall-out from their initial attempts to silently unplug the service just keeps smearing their faces with more and more chocolate mousse.
Firstly, of course, the initial attempts merely publicised the service. Driven on by Metallica's moaning, what had been until then a quiet little backwater on the web suddenly became a main street. By the time the mainstream press picked up the tale, it was clear that the response to the label's "Do you realise these sites giving away free music are costing us money?" question was not "Blimey, that's awful; we'll stop" but, more frequently "What's that you say? There's free music?" Napster relied on word of mouth; the industry's over-reaction was a scream.
Then, with the number of users shooting up, the labels started to make themselves look ridiculous. To hear the industry that will never use a shirt if a bra-top will do, the people who embrace the cred of "Parental Advisory" warn that using Napster may bring you into contact with pornographers was like Snickers raising the dangers of peanut allergies for people eating Fruit & Nut.
By the time the law managed to nail two planks over the door of Napster, enough people were switched on to file-swapping to make any subsequent peer-to-peer service successful; having seen the points where legal pressure had been placed on the old service, new models of working were created to route round them.
Obviously, the labels did succeed in separating many users from file-sharing, but what good did it do them? In the year that Napster was plugged in, record sales rose. Since the service was banned, sales have fallen. It seems that maybe there was something in the claim that creating communities of people excitedly swapping tracks, names and recommendations had a knock-on effect upwards on sales.
And now, there's another snake crawling out of the basket. Even as labels are in one court trying to force the likes of Courtney Love to stick to contracts the artists think unfair, a judge in their action against Napster has tapped a pencil on his teeth and said "You know, I'm not so sure you guys actually do own the copyright on these tracks anyway." It all hinges on whether artists are considered to be employees of the labels, and as such obliged to surrender copyright automatically to their labels. Since most artists aren't contracted in that way, there's a very plausible legal theory that while the EMIs own the actual sound recordings, the songs themselves should really be considered the property of the artist - and since, as any fule kno, that its the song, not the sounds, where the money is, this could have considerable implications for the music industry. Wouldn't it be so Alanis if, in trying to stop a few hundred college kids swapping Blink 182 alums they'd probably have wound up buying on CD anyway, the record companies had simply managed to destroy the only thing that they actually had to work with?
One other effect of Napster: Believe it or not, the record labels were shocked to discover that when people looked for tracks online, they typed the name of songs or bands into the search engines. Bemused that nobody looking for a Cranberries record typed 'Island" into google, the labels suddenly realised that their precious brands didn't mean shit to anyone - which, of course, meant that once they got their online act together, there'd be little value in those brands. Hence, it's as direct consequence of Napster that when Universal records advertise on TV now, they carry little "Universal" logos at the start, in the way their film division products always have. The changes wrought by technology are not always seismically cataclysmic.

SPOOKIER YET: Meat is Murder just cropped up in Round Britain Quiz. I am being stalked by Mozzer.

THE DRESS YOU SO FESTIVELY TRY: Spooky pop-related things, number one in a series: Yesterday evening, I'd been dancing round in the kitchen and I suddenly realised, while singing Meat is Murder out loud that the line "It's death for no reason, and death for no reason is murder" was fantastically inaccurate. Even although I'm vegetarian, I can see the reason for cattle slaughter - it's to make yummy burgers and pies, isn't it? - which would make it not murder. Equally, a lot of murder is incredibly motivated - to stop an uncle from changing a will, to stop Ruby taking her love to town, and so on. Anyway, a couple of hours later I'm picking up that day's Weekend Guardian, and there's pretty much the same opinion being expressed. Anyway, all of this is by way of an introduction to an article taking the not-quite-so-groundbreaking-as-it-likes-to-think angle of examining the band from their visuals rather than their lyrics - ironically in the same edition as a five-page lament for the lot of the meat packer, which Mozzer would probably appreciate. Some nice touches include the observation that Morrissey is one of the few true indie stars whose face adorns tshirts, but it all comes unstuck, as all Morrissey retroshots do, on the issue of Nationalism/Naziism. Apparently, the National Front Disco and the Finsbury BNP Rally were alright, because there was grown-up thinking going on behind them, and it only got out of control because Moobo never explained where he was coming from. Not quite true, as he did attempt to wriggle off the hook with statements such as "England for the English is in quotes" (and how do you know that when it's sung anyway); unsatisfying in the context of a man smart enough to know that people will bellow along with any chorus, however ironically counterpoising the verse, if it seems pleasing enough to their ears to do so. This was a trap the Manics fell into with "We only want to get drunk" a few years later...
That piece in full - Most bands would try and keep quiet about having a deaf fanbase...

INDIE PORN: According to Epitonic's Indie board, indie porn and pornography are similar. They say its because you can't describe what they are, but you know them when you see them. But t could just be because they're both slightly seedy and made by sweaty old men for wankers. Boom boom.

THEY'RE NOT GRRRRRR-EAT: So, there on Wednesday night was Elton John, popping up on Newsnight to describe modern pop as being like boxes of cereal, and to suggest he should never have done that greatest hits album last year, since its the Best Of culture that's strangling the industry. Really, Elton? What on earth could have persuaded you to make the record, then? Nothing to do with having large sums of money rubbed into your face, presumably? The thing about Elton is that, ever since he discovered Ryan Adams, he's been getting more and more po-faced and tending to talk about credibility and art. It's fine if he thinks that Songs from the west coast is a serious minded piece of art, but being lectured by the man who was responsible for the unarguable nadir of rock music (of course we're talking about that Car Crash of a car crash memorial), the sudden outrage sits uneasily.
Not that we'd say that Elton's attack on the Kellogisation of pop is wrong; in fact his "cereals" taunt is well considered: Breakfast cereals have stopped being inventive, and fallen back onto re-arranging the same basic elements in different ways - Corn Flake + chocolate; rice + chocolate; weetabix + fruit pieces; corn flake + frosting + fruit pieces; so has pop - Destiny's Child divided by Atomic Kitten equals MisTeeq. But if Elton is coming to save us, we surely must be fucked. His plan includes closing down the video channels, which manages to be doubly hypocritical - not only did he drag his career out of the dolequeue by embracing MTV (I'm still standing video, anyone?) but the cheeky old dog is making a cameo appearance in his big chum Ryan Adam's new video. Or is it okay to make a video if you're "serious", Elton?
Elt on Newsnight - probably considered too highbrow for News At Ten
Ryan Adams and chums - let's hope this helping hand from Elton doesn't carry the price Robbie paid...

CODE BROKEN: One of the joys of being young and giddy in the 1980s was Cath Carroll's music and writing for the the nme, so it was a delight to discover that, while she has now become American (not that there's anything wrong with it...), she's still writing and still making music. Her includes a piece on the and the decline of British pop press in general; still a delight to read.

QUICK UPDATE: Eavis has been clambering in and out of bed with the Mean Fiddler; when the music stopped, he was in. So for the next five years, Vince Power will be slipping a portion of the profits into his trousers, Eavis pledging this won't mean any difference to the Glastonbury experience. We'll see.

YOU'RE DAMNED IF YOU DO...: You could almost feel sorry for Michael Eavis. No sooner had music fans, The Times and others been on his back about his deal with Mean Fiddler (Reading-Leeds owning London behemoth were to get twenty per cent of the festival, in return for providing structural assistance, rising to firty per cent and then, presumably, a total take over when Eavis finally hangs up his big hat), than Mendip Council starts to threaten to pull Glasto's licence if he doesn't let MF run the security and logistics. Here is a rock, here is a hard place.
Of course, MF would love to get its greasy mits on Glasto - that would pretty much give it if not a monopoly, then at least a seriously destabilsing share of the UK festival scene - England becoming a Virgin/Fiddler duopoly. Gig-goers in London who've watched the Mean Fiddler swallow and ruin a range of venues over the years - don't tell me you don't miss the Town & Country Club - will probably feel a but queasy at the thought of a direct choice between one of Power's or one of Branson's. The thought of an MF-run Glasto is probably more depressing than the recent Glasto-run Glastos - Reading/Leeds has always tasted of a supermarket festival (albeit with Harrods Food Hall prices), while even as Glastonbury has got more and more commercialised over the past few years (when the markets started to turn into some sort of Small Town High Street, and then into Big City Mall) it's still managed to keep a sense of being in touch with the land on which it stands. Offering space for people who want to camp, picnic and play rather than minibreak, shop and consume has been what's kept Glasto's identity, and it seems hard to imagine that a Vince Power controlled one would want to preserve the concept of people paying just for their tickets and nothing more.
Plus, of course - The Mean Fiddler hardly has much of a record in the sort of environmental issues traditionally supported from Glasto revenues. In 1998, they held a "legal rave" on a site of special scientific interest, ignoring and belittling the complaints of nearby residents. Is this really the people Mendip Council want to take over the Pilton Pops?

YOU CAN'T STOP THEM, THEY ARE ROCK: There's an interview with the Charlatan's Tony Rogers in today's Belfast Newsletter, which explains how Tim 'all that is sex god' Burgess' new falsetto came about almost by accident:
‘Tim’s vocals actually came about when we were recording the B-Side for Impossible (from Us and Us Only)’’, says Tony. ‘‘The song was A Man Needs To Be Told, which ended up being the first song for Wonderland. Tim just started singing like that, which set the Curtis Maysfield-vibe for the album and changed the way we played the instruments.
"A lot of the songs were written on the piano or Hammond," says Tony, "but Tim’s vocals allowed for a bigger range of styles on the guitar and keyboards.’’
But despite the success of Wonderland, the band did experience more bad news prior to its release. In August last year, Tony was diagnosed as having testicular cancer. He has been for 12 scans to date and received treatment in December and is due for more soon, but he refused to let his illness effect the release of the album.
"The last thing I wanted was for Wonderland to be held back," says Tony. "It needed to be released when it was still fresh to us.
"The rest of the band tried to get me to slow down and take some time off, but the album was the only positive thing I had and I needed to keep working."
Tony says that he is feeling ‘fine’ at the moment and that he is trying to keep his health and fitness up to scratch.
It would be easy to imagine that the general feeling within The Charlatans camp would be one of doom and gloom, considering all that has happened to them over the years, but Tony insists that this is not the case.
“You just have to overcome these things like people do in all walks of life,’’ says Tony. ‘‘We don’t have a bad outlook on life, that’s just the way it’s been documented.
"We actually see ourselves as lone of the luckiest bands because we’ve managed to carry on with the music," he says.

I WAS IN THE SHOWER THIS MORNING and I was thinking that, perhaps, it was time I posted some positive stuff to XRRF, what with having done a fair bit of knocking in the last couple of weeks. It was starting to sound like I didn't even like music. And with the news that Mercury Rev are coming to Liverpool, and Michael Eavis has come to his senses and is thinking again about letting the Mean Fiddler start to creep towards taking over Glastonbury, and an AC Acoustics album now and a Clinic album soon gave lots of reasons to be smiley.
And then this happened.
Oasis have announced a new single, and right away everything about it stinks. It's called The Hindu Times, for Vishnu's sake. (Doubtless if it had been Ringo and not Harrison who died last year it would have been called Percy the Angry Engine.) And nme.com offers a sample of the lyrics: " The song includes the lines ‘I get up when I'm down/ I can't swim but my soul won't drown/ I do believe I've got flare/ I got speed and I walk on air.’ The chorus is: ‘Cos God give me a soul/ In your rock ‘n' roll band/ I can get so high I just can't feel it.’ "I'm in a rock and roll band, me, look, I have taken drugs." The fresh, new sound of a bright new century. How far has the group moved on since "all your dreams are made/ when you're chained to the mirror and the razorblade"? Apart from sliding backwards in the lyric writing stakes.
A lot of rubbish was written after Sepven about how nothing would be the same again, how art and culture would have to reform to cope with a world where thousands of people can die almost instantly, for no reason. But while it was bollocks, and poems about the Queen Mother and songs about fucking were just dwarfed by the moment, not rendered extinct, in the middle of it all los Bros Gallaghers popped up in an nme interview, yammering about nothing. When even the most strictly-policed internet fanfic lists abandoned their usual structures to try and absorb what we'd seen, the Gallaghers appeared as unaffected as babes in arms. This is, of course, the mark of their failiure; as a songwriter, Noel appears to have no interest beyond his guitar; the band appear incapable of absorbing their surroundings. It's not merely that they cannot turn their experiences into great, age-defining music; they seem unable to experience in the first place. And unless they can learn how to, Oasis' future is one of releasing records that are the aural equivalent of names marker-penned on walls by bus-stops: "Noel was 'ere." But for no reason, to no end; for no purpose.

The Shape Of Things To Come?

THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME?: Charlie Chester stopped taking holidays after the time he returned from a short spell at the seaside to discover his Saturday and Sunday evening show on Radio 2 had become a Sunday evening show alone. So, what should we make of the news that Radio One is to have a four week "holiday" from John Peel, with other shows being summoned from their middle of the night slumber to take over his slot while The Great Man has a rest?

In the past, famously, Peel shows always turned up when they were meant to - on tape, if he was off looking at chickens; in fact, until the night of his fiftieth birthday when the late John Walters presented to allow Peel to go off to a surprise party, nobody had ever sat in for him. Since then, there have been breaks - the longest when "The Pig" was quite seriously ill - but this is of a different order. Chris Evans sized breaking. Some of the replacements - Fabio and Grooverider and the Rock Show, not to mention plugs for the soon come urban station they're still calling Network X - suggests that this could be the Radio One equivalent of Operation Lion. (Operation Lion being the dry-runs the BBC hold to practice what they'd do in the event of the demise of the Queen Mother - like she's gonna die).

The usual assumption - that Lammo has been groomed as a dauphin - is looking shakier now. One-watchers have thought that R1 would want to keep a Peel-like show, if only out of some commitment to public service, but the increasingly zoned and genre-bound nature of the network (Pop till six, chart dance till eight, indie, then rock or whatever) suggests that creating a new show which plays Zambian and Jamaican alongside the Brentford and Seattle sounds may not be the first choice of the station; nor is it obvious why Lammo would want to swap from doing the Evening Session into a lowlier slot, however revered its previous occupant.

And you just know that any attempt to question what's going on would lead to Broadcasting House sending a flier for Radio Six in response. Of course, at the moment, it's speculation, but the last intelligent show on Radio One could be looking like it's increasingly playing at the wrong speed.

Those fill-in showcases in full - or try-outs, as it could be...

[Updated 23/08/08 to reflect current layout of site; content unchanged]

ALSO 80'S: Nice to see Limahl popping up to do Too Shy and Never Ending Story on the otherwise nostalgia-by-simple-numbers Class of 1984 on Saturday night, especially after the Trouble at Top detailing the struggles for Bucks Fizz between Bobby Gee and David Van Day. Limahl, of course, got kicked out of KajaGooGoo (what was it? Too gay? Not Christian enough? Prettier than the others?) and seems to have got the balance right between being Christopher Hamill when he wants to be, and doing Limahl when someone will pay him too - his 80s personna being like a glove, or perhaps some sort of hat. Meanwhile, what happened to his nemesis, Nick 'big bubbles no troubles' Beggs?
His website suggests that, as well as a career as a session musician (the musical equivalent of emptying ashtrays), he's started illustrating children's books. Mind you, the news page was last updated in 2000 - it's that ability to make annual changes that makes the web so flexible, of course.

YOU LIKE A LITTLE BOY GEORGE?: Was it our imagination or did Boy George attempt to shed the 'Boy' tag and image a few years back? I could have sworn - like Kid Jensen and Peter Pan before him - the Boy became a man, reverted to George O'Dowd, and stopped wearing stupid hats.
Maybe we did dream this, because now he's back on Play UK, doing a chat show - with hat, with Boy, with the same eye make-up he wore in the 80's. In addition, he's got Taboo, the musical of his life, playing away down in London, and he's doing the tour of chat shows himself - not always to acclaim, as trudging through piles of internet reaction, it becomes clear that some people are starting to get sick of the schtick - after all, part of the fall-out of his making blokes in slap commonplace in the 80's was to ensure that we're less than shocked by his appearance in 2001. Double entendres about back entrances? Why bother, when even Hollyoaks does male rape and Queer as Folk has made watching men shag the number one spectator sport for straight women. And did you hear the version of Karma Chameleon he made with people who'd won some sort of phonebox karaoke competition? The funny thing is, on Boy George One on One, he complained about how people come up to him and sing Karma Chameleon, giving the impression that he considers that's part of his past, when clearly he's stuck firmly in a kind of perpetual gift shop flogging memory-tat based on that one track.
The chat show itself isn't that bad - although it's not the lion-mauls-gazelle its trailers try to promise - more spot of two fisted pleasuring; and clearly the thing gets edited to buggery, presumably to ensure that the guests (of the order of Patsy Palmer and Jonathon Ross and his wife - one on two?) are able to get a word in edgeway between the Boy's rambling self-plumping anecdotage. However, the character chatshow is usually the sign of a personna hitting the edge of it's atmosphere - where is Mrs Merton now? Gone to Harold Shipman, we presume; Dame Edna is now stuck dancing like a bear for Ally McBeal. Having first tried to slew off Boy, George has now embraced him. The prospect is one of self-parody, rereleases and cabaret. Do You Really Want To Hurt Me re-recorded with Jayne McDonald by Christmas, we reckon.

ADVICE FOR FLAGGING INDIE BANDS: Hey, are you an indie band in desperate need of a quick hit? Why not secure your career by knocking out a quick cover version of the Buffy Once More With Feeling musical tunes? In fact, it's a pity that Elastica have split - the stop-starty Life would have been perfect for them to give the once-over, while I think Belle & Seb would relish the chance to throw off the milky-milky image by doing Spike's Rest In Piece. With fireworks and smoke, natch. And possibly Patricia Morrisson-alikes dancing in the background. Maybe someone should put together a small tribute album project. Any takers?

BIZKIT BITES AGAIN: How many times must Limp Bizkit fans have the "kick me hard" sign hung round their necks before they go out and get some new heroes? As if that whole unfortunate Australian death incident (where it came out in the inquest that the band had lied about visiting the crushed fan while she was in hospital) wasn't bad enough, now they're ripping off their fans in a way even more direct than the usual shitty two CD tricks, or 'special edition albums.
Wes Boland having gone to do something more useful with his time, the band have been running this massive, Hear'Say style 'Put your money where your guitar is' audition for a replacement. Except it makes the Hear'say "oh, fancy you winning" affair seem like a piece of honest square dealing. Fans turn up, queue for ages, then are forced to play totally new pieces of music, the copyright in which they are forced to assign to the Bizkit. Having written the new album for the band - and, lets face it, at least it won't be any worse than Chocolate Starfish And Look Daddy I Did A Poo - it then turns out that the band might not even bother replacing Boland at all. Nice. 'Course, next time they should charge people five bucks for trying out.
Durst, of course, denies that the farrago is anything more than "haters" with a bitter aftertaste. The "three page" contract is nothing more than a "image release" for MTV, and then he says "Fuck you, haters, better yourself" about sixteen times.
And your daddy did do a big guff - Fred responds to "every piece-of-shit talking shit and ever hater talking shit" by writing on his website...
Disgruntled fan, probably now a piece of shit, or a hater - still, at least they didn't play for you...
Management admit band "might not:" replace Boland - what do you call a competition without a prize?

ZIP ZIP UNDO ME: Tucked away in the middle of a piece about Monsters Inc in today's Guardian Review:
"Not many people know that Levi's provided the money for Massive Attack to make Blue Lines, because they were very discreet about it."

Spose its no worse than Dicke Branson bankrolling records, but it still tastes a little bit odd. What was in it for Levi's? Discreet and promotion aren't words that sit easily together, are they?

Also in today's Guardian Review, the following - unillustrated - advert:
"Wanna buy me a soda?"
Charles, Kim, Joey, David
come on pilgrims - reform

NO GURU, NO SENSE, NO DOUBT: I never thought I'd be keeping my fingers crossed for Enrique Ingleseas to stay at number one, but since the other option is for that godawful Hey Baby getting there, all right thinking people surely must. Way to blow it, Gwen - nobody has given a thirty second theatre about your bunch of Madness-meets-Sleeper muppets since it became clear that Don't Talk was an exception to a rule rather than the rule itself, but you might just have climbed out of the crushing machine in the back of the warehouse when Eve "decided" to get you to guest on the, frankly, earth-justifying Blow Ya Mind. (Yeah, of course it was Eve's idea. Nothing to do with your shared record company looking for a way to relaunch the flagging No Doubt, of course.) Instead, you've come up with a misguided botch together of the cheapstore ska that you know in your heart is all that the doubt are capable of, and a watered down version of the stuff that Eve does. The Northern Alliance have got more hope of holding together than that mixture has, really. It's hard to know what is more sadly hilarious here - the way the rest of the band are still allowed to pop up in press and video, providing they don't get in the way; the monotonous chanting of 'Hey baby hey' in a bid to cover the lack of any idea, any message, any point to the rest of the lyrics; the fish-eyed lens effect used in the video (what, 1970's Top of the Pops just hit the states, have they?), maginfying the grotesque lack of beauty to any of the band apart from Gwen, and the fact that she clearly doesn't care for hers; Gwen's scouser-market guy "Rock" and "Steady" gold rings... all are bad, but the point where any viewer with a heart is forced to sit down and weep tears of blood at how awful it all is is when Gwen makes the "I'm flashing my bra" move again. Like in the Eve video, only where there it was touching and fitted (Gwen being a good girl led astray by Eve, according to the video backstory) here it just slackens the jaw: You really do think that's sexy, don't you? Hey Gweny Hey Gweny Hey... we've all seen bras before, dear. Zip yourself up...

SCRAPBOOK OF OUR DREAMS:
this has gotta hurt - not only has one of "ooh scary clowns" Insane Clown Posse been given a suspended prison sentence, the nme have had to use "Eminem's enemy" rather than "Insane Clown" in the headline, because otherwise nobody would give a shit...

-"In five years, Liam will be the best songwriter in Britain", predicts
Noel. Only if the smallpox outbreak claims more people than the BBC were predicting. Noel also boldly "predicts" that Gareth will win PopIdol. Well, d'uh, the only people who don't seem to know that are the flippers at home who are going to pay money to vote between two people already signed up and working on their debut singles...

Talking of fix-ups the funniest thing is the way hear'say are denying that they "knew" their new member was "a known face." He isn't, for porking out loud - he's some topsy dancer who is dangling from Lisa Step's index finger while she waits to see if she has a solo career (and thus can get to try for a David Duchovny) or if she's about to bomb, and will have to stay lumbered to him.

No Doubt and REM praise Bono with a big show held in his ego, um, honour. Jesus Christ, couldn't they just send a couple of hookers and a picture of him with "You're like a God to us - you're like a God to God" scrawled across it. I mean, No Doubt are and always will be an eager-to-please, punch us we like it band of shite, but REM fawning about the Me Machine? Michael Stipe bending a knee to the Ian Beale of rock? God, it's worse than Grant Hart turning up for a Geri Halliwell love-in, isn't it? Y'see, i can feel a bit sorry for Geri, because when she tramples about through minefields and rubs shoulders with starving children, too dumb to do the "You look like my old mate Victoria" gag, everyone points at her and says "You stupid clunker, you are a silly pop singer, what do you think you're doing?" Which is a fair point, except, when Bono does it, the lickspittles in the media suggest we get together and dig up Alfred Nobel's body to show him the Good That Bono Does. Can't you get it, people - his ego does not need to be poled any more. The man couldn't think any better of himself, couldn't get any smugger, couldn't squeeze any more satisfaction of self into his oh-so-amusing character stage clothes if he'd come up with a cure for cancer or paid off Lesotho's foreign debt or, in short, done something that contributed to the gaiety of nations in any way since The Tube was taken off air. Great Voice ? Great cock, more like it. And don't try and tell me that he raises issues in the minds of his audience, because his gangling ranks of Minidisc chomping underwriters are the sort of Guardian-grazing, wine guzzling chumps who think they know the facts already and aren't going to get off their large, ally mcbeal worshipping arses to do anything about it anyway because they've mistaken the slogan "knowledge is power" for the lie "knowing about an injustice is a step towards correcting it."

HEARSAY, YOUR HONOUR: Who on earth would have bothered to audition to fill Kym's hole in the now-almost-defunct Hear'say? It's an honour on a par with the one given to that annoying American who took over Morning Edish when the Bake went to Radio One (i.e. not exactly the sort of job security a mortgage lender would be looking for). And apparently some of the hundreds who turned up to audition are really pissed off - in a way, you can't blame them, since the first thinning out was done on looks alone (second, probably, since anyone with any sense had been ruled out by not bothering to go and join the media circus in the first place); obviously the schedule was pressing and they didn't have time to pretend this time that everyone was in with a chance...