THE EMI MELTDOWN: nme.com are reporting that as the axe man runs through the hallways of EMI, all that's saved McCartney and Jagger from the axe is their rich and fruity back catalogue, which is kind of interesting. They're also suggesting that Perry Farrel and Ben Harper are amongst the artists who really should start writing letters to Cooking Vinyl...

SEARCH ENGINE QUERIES: Okay, I can understand how "pictures of Gareth Gates from OK magazine" might lead to XRRF, but... "ITV Digital monkey is gay"?

NOW WE ARE SIX: now s-club 7 become s club. as one of them pisses off to join a schoolmate's nu-metal band (okay, because *that* is a sane thing to do) Only problem is, their telly series are called [place name] 7, aren't they? So what are they going to do about that, then?
of course, the place to go for the scoop is Newsround, and its reaction board, which is priceless:
I'm not surprised that Paul is leaving. Nobody wants to do pop anymore. All bands like that will split up in a year or so. But it's sad though because there are too many solo singers now, it is boring! Sappho, 10, Weybridge
A ten year old called sappho? I blame eastenders meself. But "Nobody wants to do pop anymore", eh? Um... how many twat-bearers turned up for the Pop Idol auditions?
This just proves that pop music is near it's end. It's sad but true. Sarah, 15, Grimsby
Well, she's had a lot of experience... how old would she have been when Take That split? eight?
I have been crying for hours but I still love them. Fiona, 13, Billingham
eh? You're thirteen, for christ's sake - you should be thinking Marilyn manson is a headfuck, not pissing about with S Club bloody 7...

WHAT THE POP PAPERS SAY 27/03/02: so The Face is currently running an exclusive on Kurt's diaries, which, as you'd imagine, has a Courtney front page. Oddly, this piece was originally intended for the dead-as-Kurt Talk, so how it wound up in the ailing brit fashion "bible" is anyone's guess - as indeed is why people still call The Face a fashion bible at all...

record mirror this week has an exclusive interview with brian molko and brett anderson, in which they pre-empt any further speculation by announcing they're going to have a child together. "We realise we might need a lady to get involved at one point or other" sniggers Brett "but for now, we're just practising on what we can do up our end"...

the nme has an easter theme. okay, it doesn't, but the lostprophets are burning a bunny on the front page...

news leads on the police "forcing" the so solids off the homelands bill is actually quite interesting - Hampshire Police do say that they'd have gone to the council had the band been kept on the bill "and the licence for the festival probably would have been revoked" - so, that's the police second guessing what the judiciary would do, then. The so solids - or at least those not out waving guns about - issued a statement to the effect that the public are being denied the right to see what they want to see, and asking "is this democracy?" Well, no. And it does seem hugely unfair that they've been banned by police, rather than ruled out because they're crap. The main trouble with the so solids, though, is that they're their own worst enemies - sure, they can point to their shiny record of only one gig where anyone actually got killed all they like, but the fact remains that their act and stance is tied up tightly with violent imagery - the one who beat up the teenage girl for not having sex with him, for example, left court and went straight on to make a video in which he played some sort of gangsta street figure. The defence of the so solids is reminiscent of Gary Bushell's letter to the Guardian defending Jim Davidson this week - "Davidson is no racist"; maybe not, but his act certainly has been. Trouble is, the police can force SSC off as many bills as they like, but it won't stop the gun culture. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't some sort of incident at Homelands this year anyway, now that its become an issue of this magnitude...

other news: "I'm never going to the Met Bar again" cries Liam, after having an argument with one of MisTeeq (oooh, taking on teenage girls now, Liam - not angling for a place in the So Solids, are you?); they ask stars what they wouldn't advertise for a million pounds - Lee from Blue says "Cruelty to animals" (because, yeah, the Royal Society for Promotion of Cruelty to Animals is always looking for celeb endorsements, aren't they?); oddly, the front page of the NME teases this item with the words "Starbucks? Child porn? What wouldn't stars advertise for £1,000,000?" - and neither gets mentioned anywhere in the actual piece. Hmmmm. "I would never ... you know, like... she [Madonna] would masturbate on a bed. I don't get that" - so says Britney. But then, she's so rich she could probably afford a special wanking chair or something; some fool claims that Glastonbury is going to be sunny - "going on previous years" - right; occasional flashes of the words "Pills" and "Bombs" on-screen in Oasis' Does Your Mother Know George Harrison video proves that "oasis live in 2002, and not 1967" says director Wiz - yes, because there were no anti-war movements in the late 1960s, were there? - but then admits that it was his idea anyway; the new Korn album has cost three million to put together, working out at 800 pounds a second. Money, I'm sure, well-spent; meanwhile, the nme still seems to think that anyone left in the country still finds ali G in any way amusing...

goss-lite: a list star makes rock nobody friend at counselling; britpop
frontman annoying record company by demanding world cup tickets; ageing dance star getting off with groupies to pinch their drugs...

on bands Tiga & Zyntherius; electonic eye movement and the x ecutioners...

hoobastank offer polite nu-metal (is this copied out of Kerrang? mean, really - who cares about nu-metal bands turning up now? it's like getting the wine list delivered with the cheque)...

the lostprophets are unloved by the metal press, it seems. "its because their girlfriends fancy us" reckons the band's Mike. As if a rock writer would have a girlfriend...

Ian from the Coral offers the four types of sex: "sympathy shag, porn dirty shag, intense lovemaking and routine." Oh, and "the backhander"...

oh. badly drawn boy has put his hat back on. wanker. The article is white on black and printed so tiny it's impossible to read, but Damon does say "I can perform songs with the minimum of drink, like a couple of shorts." Aha. that sober...

since the features are so crap, lets flick to the reviews - cornershop -
handcream for a generation ("happy music for hard times", 8); billy bragg - england, half english ("sounds just as dated as the social traditions he lampoons",5) shakira - laundry service (the review just quotes some lyrics and says that she's weird, like its been written by Nora Batty, 5)...

sotw: The vines - highly evolved ("going to be bigger than U2, gareth gates and Nickelback combined"); wsotw: susumu & rothko - waters edge ep. In between: Ballboy's All the records on the radio are shite...

we interrupt reviews for david holme's ten track cd choice - beach boys and dion...

live: chemical brothers in portsmouth ("not an open top bus tour round Mali to match it"); gomez at Kings Cross ("Gomez are like a raw gooseberry" says Ben Gomez); Easyworld in Glasgow ("they need to lose the adolescent theatrics")

next week, its Oasis. Blimey. I can hardly contain my spunk.

ANOTHER PUNK ANNIVERSARY: God, ten years on, fifteen years on, twenty years on, twenty one years on... now we're up to the silver jubilee, and we're in for the same old yak. I'd imagine Lydon has already bought a new suit and shoes for the rounds he'll be doing. And, fair play to him, he's turned himself into a veritable Peter Ustinov. But perhaps its time to actually take stock of the movement once and for all, and see it for what it was.
Of course, I'm grateful for it having happened, that without it we might now be sat here discussing Emerson Lake and Palmer's link up with Mike Oldfield while BBC Six prepares for a weekend of the best Phil Collins - ever. But in the twenty five long years, the breaking wave of 1977 has spread itself out so far, its hard to point at very much and say "That's punk's doing, that is" with any degree of certainty, and certainly without adding "and, of course, hiphop/eddy shah/tucker jenkins" - maybe Tony Parsons' pisspoor book and the BBC serial based on it and Julie Burchill's weekly brain wrong in ink for the weekend Guardian, but beyond that - what? Without punk, Oasis could easily have existed, just maybe a bit nicer to children. Rave's fingerprints are all over 2002, and that movement owed more to Northern Soul than Never Mind the Bollocks. Indeed, Rave's aggressive promotion of self in the face of state hostility tasted more of a 1960's anti-war protest movement, and was therefore more akin to the hippies punk swore to obliterate.
So, should we stop the old punks from telling us what they did in the culture wars? Maybe not, but someone should ask them to listen to what they're saying, rather than letting them run out the stories we've heard so many times before. McClaren, of course, will hide his Virgin Club Class eyecovers and slippers before trotting out the tales of the battle with capitalism; Lydon is already trilling about anarchy; Branson popping up to bemoan being robbed by the charts.
This is what's so sad - old punks still fighting over the fucking Top 40 chart from twenty five years ago. In god's name, why? Wasn't the chart a symbol of all you were meant to despise? Wasn't punk meant to be about a feeling, two fingers at the music industry? And yet here you are, still worrying about a list of record read out by - Jesus, probably Paul Burnett or someone. The final sting, of course, is that the record industry disregarded its own rules in order to get the list it wanted. The ends were more important than the means; the laws were ignored. In effect, the BPI was more anarchic in 1977 than you bunch ever were. The sad thing is that you cared about a sales chart. See you at the 30th, lads.

SHIRLEY ON THE TELLY: So, still uber-queen despite the hair (what is that, Greg Proops goes to Gwen's?) Shirley Manson was on the BBC's Liquid News last night, and was pretty good on the Britney crisis - her take was, it's nice if you can do these things (Brit was booed for not gladhanding her fans at the premiere of Crossroads, btw), but anyone who turns up should only do so in the expectation of failing, not the certainty of a chance of meeting the star. (This should be drummed into the person who runs a Mel C list and excitedly posted how soon she'll be putting up pictures of her and Mel - because she's going to spend a week in London, and Mel C is in London, so its obvious they'll bump into each other...). What was curious, though, was that in a show which lingered on the banned Ali G poster (subject of 100 complaints, and the reason why UIP will have to have all adverts pre-vetted by the ASA in future) and featured a woman yelling over the heads of her children "Britney can stick her movie up her arse", when Shirley slipped out the word "shit", the fill-in presenter immediately rushed forward to apologise for the "bad" language. Hmmm.
Talking of bad language, Tony Wilson was on Midweek earlier, and seemed disappointed that London Underground will only allow him to appear labelled as a "Twit" on posters for 24 Hour Party People (and aren't you sick of that already?), rather than the "Twat" he gets called above ground...

ROCK SCRAPBOOK: Ryan Adams dances like a Spanish monkey on Elton's shoulders; Sting, Macca, Dylan applaud. "We like your little monkey" says Sting. "He bores me now" cries Dylan.
Bono pops up to vouch for Peter Buck at his air rage trial. Last week, of course, Bono was standing shoulder to shoulder with George Bush, vouching for him as a man of honour and decency. Buck's going to go down for a long time, isn't he?
which is bad news for trees in Virginia. "If Daddy goes to jail, who will look after us?" sobs a willow
MisTeeq say gun-toting so-solid fool is "lovely." Coming up at 11: "That Mark Chapman, he was so sweet"
Britney and Justin very much in love, says official statement:. It reads:
"To set it straight, both of them are very busy and focusing on their careers.
"They love each other very much and have not broken up. The demands on their time have naturally created a significant time apart, which could be misconstrued as a more permanent situation".
In reference to reports that both have been seen flaunting their freedom in numerous nightclubs across the globe, the statement concludes: "As for spotting in clubs, they are both young and like to dance".
Erm, which is fine, except...
Britney not in a serious relationship, she tells press conference

PRE-ORDAINED... NB: Less surprising than Will being gay. From Media Monkey

Marked from the start
Still wondering why Will Young hasn't had a big commercial deal following his Pop Idol triumph and why it went to the runner-up instead? According to reports at the weekend, Pepsi knew exactly what it wanted from Pop Idol long before Gareth and Will slugged it out in the final round - the same that pop svengali Simon "high trousers" Cowell wanted: a cute, young, docile boy from Bradford, aka Gareth Gates. It now transpires the drinks giant decided its £75,000 would go to gap-toothed Gates back in January. "We started looking at Gareth from about 10 weeks into the competition," says Pepsi marketeer Karen Goffe. So if you didn't know it already Will - at 23 years old, you won't be a pop idol for long.

CASH COW: A piece in Friday's FT provides some further business-related background to EMI's problems, along with a similar piece in Saturday's Guardian, which will make glum reading for people who are desperate to see the music industry as a battery farm. However, EMI aren't really learning from their mistakes - having spent a small fortune buying Mariah and then realising their expensive mistake, the eggs-in-one-basket approach is being repeated today with a huge Robbie Williams deal. Yes, he may be bloody popular now, for whatever reason, but so was Mariah. Forty million quid spent on a single huge ego... how many new acts could be nurtured and grown for that? Or even one-tenth of that. It's interesting that EMI seem to be on the point of making the same mistake ITV Digital have - Robbie Williams could be their Nationwide Premier, an over priced commodity that could start to leach money needed away from the rest of their operations precisely at the time those need the most attention...

SIX. AGAIN: Just when you're raving about six to your friends, and they're enjoying a live Manics performance, the network sticks on Sting live and friends make excuses and leave. Anyway... another small grip is they don't appear to be archiving Mark Sutherland's pieces, which is a shame, so we've fished today's off the site and bring it you, here, now, forever:
Another Jubilee, and still Johnny Rotten won't let it lie. Yup, the Sex Pistols are reforming and God Save The Queen is being re-released - but is the (ahem) 'fascist regime' of Her Majesty quaking in her boots? Frankly, 'one' doubts it.
Because, while 25 years ago Rotten and company did an excellent job of making the monarchy look like an out-dated anachronism, this time round, the boot would appear to be on the other foot. For a start, an incredible two million people have apparently applied for tickets to Liz's Jubilee concerts.
Will applications for the Pistols' bash be even a tenth of that? Will the charts have to be fixed this time around to keep God Save The Queen off the top spot? Almost certainly not - but that's hardly the point.
At the time, criticising the Royal Family seemed like a genuinely insurrectionary act, and respect to the Pistols for that. As well as for making one of the best albums of all time and spearheading officially the planet's most thrilling rock'n'roll movement.
But, whatever your views on Republicanism, hanging around still banging on about it 25 years later is like flogging a patch of ground where a dead horse used to be and makes the Pistols, rather than the House of Windsor, look like the irrelevant institution desperately in need of moving on.
We've even got a new Sex Pistols - So Solid Crew - at large in the land. They may not be about to make the 2002 equivalent of God Save The Queen, but the sad fact is that Rotten - who, significantly, slagged the Crew off recently - now actually NEEDS the Queen to stay on the throne in order to prolong his pantomime dame routine for a few more years.
If he was honest, he wouldn't re-release God Save The Queen but a remixed version of the Pistols' debut single - retitled Monarchy In The UK.
Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?
NP on 6: Sheila Na Gig - Polly Harvey

STOP YOUR GOBBING: Someone from the Mean Fiddler uberorganisation keeps popping up on six, bemoaning that the So Solids have been dropped from the Homelands bill. Um... but it's you who've dropped them, isn't it? Typical of the Fiddler to try and have it both ways, simultaneously caving in to ver Plod's demands that the Crew don't play, while complaining about it. Choose a line and go with it, don't keep floating about wailing "it's not fair." If you really believe that putting SSC on is the right thing to do, then put them on. If you think it isn't, then don't, and shut the fuck up. If the police then want to take more formal steps to stop the band from being on the bill, then that would be up to them - and it would provide us with a pretty interesting test case, too: how can police happily take money off football clubs for the role they play ensuring no nasties get smuggled into grounds if they're now saying they can't keep guns and violence out of Homelands? Or can they only guarantee no violence at events where no violence is expected?
Oh, and Mean Fiddler blokey - so you "got to see the Sex Pistols", did you? Presumably at a venue that didn't buckle under police pressure.
I think some of SSC are thuggish, and others are coat-tailing on this bad boy image; but I don't think that alone is any reason for people who want to put them on should be forced not to. Clear?

TIED TO THE 80s: As news reaches us that Adam Ant has "pulled out" of the 80s revival tour planned for later this year, it reminds us that earlier this week there was a story which really did sum up how far Oasis have tumbled. Ant-replacing Hadley was in a scuffle with Liam backstage at a Travis gig, apparently - because Liam was having a pop at Hadley. Time was Oasis strode around having a crack at the biggest bands. Now, they're tugging the ears of bands who - in their own words - really are down to laundromat. Next week: Noel has bitch fight with Carol decker.
Ananova reports - "Tony? Got anything on at the moment? Really?"

NOT QUITE AS CHARMING: The London Evening Standard is reporting that Isaac "son of Bryan" Ferry has been suspended from Eton:
"The son of rock star Bryan Ferry has been suspended from Eton after sending a hate mail to an anti-hunting campaigner.
Keen huntsman Isaac Ferry, 16, fired off an offensive message to Simon Wild, who runs a wildlife rescue service and badger protection group.
It read: "You are a f***ing looser [sic]. Why don't you stop waisting [sic] your time and get a real job/hobby,you c***?"
Mr Wild, of West Sussex Wildlife Protection Group, lodged complaints with the police and Eton, w here fees are £18,000 a year. He said: "The email was very upsetting both to me and my family."
A spokesman for Isaac's father, Roxy Music frontman Bryan, said: "I can confirm that Isaac has been suspended from Eton." Teachers at Eton were said to be "deeply shocked" by the incident."
So they should be - you pay all that money for an education and that's the quality of the hate mail they come up with? Jesus. Of course, the closest thing that Isaac Hayes has to a real job is fannying about on a catwalk, and his hobby consists of ripping up animals, so it's not like he's a spoiled wanker or anything, is it?

NO, REALLY, THIS WEEK IS THE LAST TIME...: Cross-posted, cross-dressed, and cross, cross, cross. It's what the pop papers say:
This week, the New Statesman has considered Slipknot. Careful to avoid a right wing style kneejerk "bad", instead they approach the band from a different angle - why do the kids like this? Unfortunately, the staggers decides that their success is because teenagers feel disaffected and like society has nothing to offer them, which is plain wrong. Firstly, you can't make a blanket statement like that without balancing the rise of the godbotherers like Creed and POD; secondly, because teens will go and watch men make themselves sick by licking dead crows doesn't mean they feel alienated from normal society - how many punks who screamed "No future" in 1977 now work for pension providers? - merely that Slipknot are providing a gross-out freakshow to fill the time before growing up. Sure, a few people run away to join the circus, but most return to everyday life when the big top leaves town...

A letter in Q condemns Tim Burgess for suggesting he had not much of a future when, actually, he was working in the post room at the chemical works which was the only employer in the area. Yeah, Tim - a crappy, poorly paid job in one of the most dangerous factories in the country, forever. You'd never had it so good...

system of a down are on the cover of nme. beard. fuck off...

news has the story that the new oasis album is going to be called Heathen Chemistry. There's a sample of just how acute Noel Gallagher's lyrics are, too: "I'm smoking all my stash/ burning all my cash." Cunt, cunt, cunt...

badly drawn boy has lost the hat because it made him a target of violence - see, sometimes, the threat of violence does work; Gareth Gates has hit back at Marilyn Mans... oh, I really can't be arsed; it's like a war between Portugal and Albania; James Dean Bradfield likes the Vines, and will let us know who else he likes as soon as his PA has told him; Ant & Dec want to record the England 2002 single - perhaps an updated version of something from their back catalogue: Our Defence Sucks, maybe?; Fear Factory have split up - no, seriously, in the last week...

gossip with no name: girl singer cheating on boyfriend, while she's successful again and he... does anyone really need this much kylie detail? ok; rock singer uncertain of band comeback, now going to make porn instead; group's management hiring counsellors to help them now they're being dropped...

"NME asks: Are so solid crew being victimised?" Yes, dammit, bands should be free to smash girl's jaws in, wave guns at traffic wardens, hold shows which become lightning rods for violence and murder without being interfered with. Stop the liberal white hand wringing, nme, and face it - so solid have talked up - and walked - the bad boy thugs with guns image, and now, as they've sew-solid, they're reaping. The nme suggests that because they're multi-racial and entrepreneurial they're great role models (yeah, because you want your bands to be Lord Hanson in khaki pants, don't you?).
Some of their defenders still try to talk of the so-solids being "unlucky" - presumably, as in "Whoops, we've shouted our mouths off about being Gangstas, made videos glorying in violence and waved guns at traffic wardens. Again."...

on bands: down - five beards; ,stereo total - long-upped french/german duo (with a lady woman, and everything) and heron - some sort of singing milkman...

america lets starsailor in; they get mistaken for models, and americans apparently take them far more seriously than british fans...

larry from hundred reasons chooses ten tracks for a cd, includes 'rock with you' by Michael Jackson...

I normally would never advise anyone to bother buying the nme, especially to see a picture of Fran Healy, but the image which accompanies the Travis interview, but Healy is wearing fucking dungarees. He looks like a man who's had a disappointment at a Play School audition. Jesus. Then he says: "Regardless of whether you like us or not, at the moment, we're defining you..." You think, Fran? You think the gnats make the nation; the glint of the sun off a mailbox is the crux of Route 66; the slight scratch of the label as you pull them on is the essence of the pair of jeans? You're an irritant, but you don't define us - we don't need to hate you, you're not worth it. The screaming of a million tormented souls keeps us awake at night, 'Why does it always rain on me' merely makes us turn to another radio station. Don't flatter yourself...

What is system of a down's mission? NME thinks its all confused, and fucked up, and mysterious. BSN thinks its: identify gullible kids. take their money. shave. get slots presenting on NPR...

albums: thirty odd foot of grunts - clarity ("el vez forming Del Amitri", 2); desparecidos - read music/speak english ("cooler than the alaskan vines". 7); gomez - in our gun ("agreeable; difficult to love", 7); richard hell - time ("misfiring talent shines brightly", 6)...

sotw: the mars volta - tremulant ("huge and swirling"); wsotw: chineseburn - shhh dont tell a soul ("makes the only fools and horses theme sound sexy")...

live - peaches in london ("fashion may be fickle, but its got nothing on this lady"); QOTSA in LA ("this band *are* rock'n'roll") and shack ("beautifully shambolic") and the coral ("scooby doo meets 'crazy horses') in Liverpool...

fuck me, as if Virgin's V events weren't bad enough, Virgin Trains are putting on a mini-festival - insert your own "we apologise for the cancellation of Paul Weller's credibility" type joke here...

anyway, that's the nme. wooo.
nme reviews in full on their site, of course

AND IN TRAD BLOGGER REVERSE ORDER: Becky at ATP, part 2:
so sunday was only one set of bands in the ballroom. no chairs. at least this time I'd had more sleep...

we got there later this time. we missed black dice, but heard saccharine trust while we were getting food. from what I heard I was glad we hadn't made the effort to get there any earlier.

so we went in towards the beginning of the dead c's set. not bad.. until the singer opened his mouth. before he did they were like a more coherent version of the jackie o. motherfuckers (guitars, feedback, noise stuff) but the singer sounded like he was torturing cats in front of the mic. luckily he didn't "sing" very much.

we grabbed a space against the wall and settled in. next up was peaches. holy fuck. she was so fucking cool. she had, like, a giant overhead projector set up and she had brought an artist to draw stuff that appeared on the blank screen behind her while she was singing. it was totally cool. the artist had also brought transparencies already drawn. at one point peaches was standing up on a platform at the back of the stage and the artist put up a drawing of a boxing ring around her. and then put boxing gloves on her hands. during another song she drew a las vegas showgirl style headress on her. she would draw pictures of women with fangs, women aging.. all sorts of stuff. she also brought black cutouts of people having sex in all sorts of combinations to put up during another song. she said this was only the second time they'd performed like that, but I think they should do it every time. I'm totally buying her cd.

next was mike watt's secondmen. they were awesome when mike watt was singing. when the guitarist was.. not so awesome.

everybody pushed forward for stereolab, so we couldn't see anything and stayed sitting on the floor. they sounded cool, though. and played my favorite song of theirs.

and finally, sonic youth. at this point helena and I (nayla stayed home to work on a paper) were so tired from everything that we only stayed for about a half hour. but it was cool. I hope I can see them again when I can be more enthusiastic. I did like what I heard and I'm planning on getting some of their stuff.

AT LAST, IT'S ALL TOMORROWS PARTIES USA: I've been threatening to bring Becky Bamboo's reviews to the BSN site forever, and been thinking in terms of giving her a page. But instead, I've got loads of them sitting on the scrapbook. So, in order to keep up-to-date, I'm using XRRF to bring you: Becky at ATP:
I wanted a good seat for big star and wilco, so we
went to UCLA right at 4 when the first bands went on. luckily they were both playing in the royce theater which has seats. nice padded seats. we settled in 7th row center and began our long vigil.

first guy up was chris lee. nice. fairly forgettable.

then.. deerhoof. lord. the guitarist played about as well as I do (i.e. not at all), the drummer looked like he was having a seizure (at one point he was actually kicking the bass drum), the little keyboard thingie was fine, but the singer couldn't stay in tune. at all. what was merely embarrassingly painful then became hilarious when all of a sudden the singer began screaming like some cut-rate yoko ono. she kept trying to pace the front of the stage but her mic cord was getting caught on the monitors. I was laughing so hard I had to slide down in my seat so everyone wouldn't see me.

next up was destroy all monsters. they started setting up all these bizarre instruments. they had a mannequin torso with a guitar neck coming out of the chest, a set of legs with a saxophone mouthpiece coming out of one foot and a trumpet mouthpiece out of the other, a head and torso with a pipe coming out of the top of the head, and what looked like a giant plastic squeezable bok choy. no, I'm not making this up. the drum set looked like the guy from rush's and then they brought out a scooby doo blanket and set out a bunch of rubber duckies and other sqeeze toys. and what looked like 4 junior high science teachers were hooking up what a telephone switchboard thingie. needless to say we were *very* expectant. I theorized that after the buildup with all the instruments anything other than a set of abba covers was bound to be a disappointment. and indeed, the first song was. so much so that after about a minute or two I fell asleep (in my defense I had gotten up at 5:30 that morning after 3 hours sleep to drive 400 miles to see this shit). the first song went on for about 20 minutes. they'd used up all their time setting up so their next song was their last. it consisted of 3 minutes of the drummer beating a bass drum and yellin about the bruins getting their asses kicked. it featured the immortal phrase "ass-crackin'", which is now my new favorite. do I need to mention that once again (after I woke up) I was laughing hysterically? no? okay. they didn't even get a chance to play any of the funky instruments. some different science teacher came out and played the rubber duckies as they were packing everything up, though. so we did get that.

then califone. I can't decide if I really, really liked them or if I was just so relieved to have actual, decent music up there. I stayed awake during their set, so that's something.

then came some slideshow/guitar feedback/voice sampling thing that would've been much more appropriate as an installation in a museum of modern art. I managed a good 20 minute nap.

next up were the jackie o. motherfuckers. we had high hopes for this band, figuring it was a kickass name, so they were probably awesome. er, wrong yet again. tuneless mumbo-jumbo. after 2 minutes I fell asleep. have I mentioned how happy I was we had comfy seats?

then came papa m who I kept comparing to m ward. and since I absolutely love m ward, papa m didn't impress me all that much. I did enjoy his set, though, and managed to stay awake.

FINALLY. big star. mmm... I got chills. no, really. they just kicked so much ass. as soon as the lights went down the audience was on their feet. everyone was really into it. they played mostly stuff from the first 2 albums. but they did 'I am the cosmos' so I was happy.

at this point helena and nayla took off for the other venue to see aphex twin. as they left the guy next to me said there was a huge line and they probably wouldn't get in. so I wasn't surprised when they came back 10 minutes later. I felt so bad cos aphex twin was basically the whole reason why they came.

wilco came out and started with a new song. there was another new one and 2 from summerteeth, but the rest were from YHF. they only got to play for about anhour. I was a little disappointed, but nayla and helena loved them. so that was good.

THIRTY MINUTE PARTY PEOPLE: Moderately amusing guardian piece today, ringing round to find out how much it would cost for various stars to do a birthday party show. Best bit is either that Dannii Minogue comes in at three Bucks Fizzes (which is only one more than there actually is), or that her agent is so desperate for bookings, he calls Dannii direct. Oh, and that he can't recall any of his own talent's songs.
How much for Kylie? - Don't bother with the Rolling Stones. They don't do corporates. Apart from themselves, of course.

SO LONG, THEN...: Saturday's business pages of the Guardian were reporting that a whole slew of second-string acts on EMI labels will be among the 1,000 lay-offs announced this week. Anyone's guess who can go - if Carey gets shipped off, it's clear the axe could swing wholesale. But I'd imagine Williams and Minogue will sleep soundly. Lousie, perhaps (though she's been in abeyance for ages, hasn't she?). Rico, Spiller, Ed Harcourt, MoSoildGold and Relish are probably starting to circle adverts in the Guardian from the Chrysalis line-up. Over at Food, Matthew Jay and Idlewild should both be safe, if Food itself can remain in the new, tightened belt world of EMI. Over at Virgin, you've got to fancy Blue for being sent back to work McDonalds. Apparently, they're webcasting a statement (EMI, Blue) at their website this week. Roll up and place your bets now...
EMI group - bye bye bands...

MOVES TO OUTLAW COPY PROTECTION: You do wonder if sometimes record industry execs, washing the spunk dribble from their thighs as the too-young girls teeter drunkenly on their heels round the Cannes hotel bedroom, ever rue the day they decided fuck with the status quo of home copying. Prior to the Metallica whinge, everything had settled into a spot of blind-eye turning that worked in everyone's favour. Yes, copies were made, but it was clear that it was just another way of tunes getting known - it worked in everyone's favour. It was the street-team concept, but without the sickening smell of bomber jacket and cokedust that the officially endorsed enthusiasm squads give off. Since the start of the industry taking on the kids over Napster, however, more and more light has been shone on practices the industry take for granted that may not actually be entirely fair. We've already seen how one part of the fallout has been a question mark being thrown over the legality of record companies taking artists' copyright; now there's an attempt being made to rule any form of copy protection unconstitutional. And they still haven't stopped people who want to swapping MP3 files. But at least you closed Napster, didn't you? Well done...
MSN reports - "... actually, now we come to think of it, home taping didn't actually kill music either, did it?"

QUESTION FOUND IN REFERRING SEARCH TERMS: Why did rock and roll ended?

THE WEAKEST LINK: How come Craig Charles show is being trailed with snippets of a programme that hasn't been broadcast yet? Which implies this is just bits made up for the trail, in which case why on earth didn't he try that "funkiest biscuits baked in the Peak Freans factory" ablib again, because it makes no sense, does it? There is a Peak Freans music link, of course, because there's a line in a Siddeleys song about how "the Peak Freans factory pumping smoke reminds me of the past/ of waking up quite terrified, of always coming last." But somehow I doubt if Craig Charles is going to be playing them...

RE-ARMED: Good to see that Mudhoney are back in action again - I'd assumed they'd been lost in the wave that Nirvana threw up behind themselves as grunge spalttered all over the wall of Kurt's garage, but the older band are still there, just about to release a new album, and - apparently - as vibrant as ever. And not just re-hashing Touch me I'm sick either. Which is screamingly nice.
Mark Arm talks to Rolling Stone

...OR ARE YOU JUST PLEASED TO SEE ME?: Possibly the genuinely most erotic or something band on the planet, erstwhile bsn-person Carmen and her band of rock bears, the Pocket Rockets have got a whole page of their stuff up on the Washington Post. Go download. Then send muffin baskets of thanks.
Washington Post rocks - because you can never have too many Bella Lugosis...
And they're on Teenbeat now, too...

THE MOST EROTIC BAND IN THE WORLD: That's what Akash claims to be, anyway. So we went to their website and MP3.com files to check. They're not, of course - having some tits on your homepage doesn't make you erotic, and the music didn't put me in the mood, but some of the tracks are quite nice in an ambient sort of way. If you're looking to a-woo, you may want to carry on searching, but if you want a bit of goth-cum-indutriallite to fill your office with, they might be worth checking out.

OKAY. FOR ONE WEEK ONLY. AGAIN. WHAT THE POP PAPERS SAY: Because it'll save me having to repeat myself here, lots.
sometimes, choices are hard. Sometimes, not so. GQ has a double cover option this month, but it's a choice between Kirsten Dunst and Jamiroquai. With the possible exception of Denise Van Outen, there's not a person alive who would chose the twat in a hat over the queen of the screen…

Glamour manages to give away a CD that's probably worth about double the cover price alone - Kylie, Dido, that sort of thing. Handy if your sister is having a party. And she reads New Woman…

Britney "wants a pretty wedding" she tells Elle magazine - whereas, of course, Nerve - currently only living online - says she wants to come clean about the state of her hymen. Whatever you feel about Brit, and the to-ing and fro-ing of her love life with the gormless Justin Timberlake (name like a shoe; intellect like a sandal), at least you can accept that she is a proper Pop Idol. She has it. Last week's Guardian Review took the occasion of the release of Shakira's first album in the UK to point out that "it" is precisely what the quartet of Pop Idols lacked - that Will, Darius, Rick and Gareth had none of the swagger, the spin, the glitter, the "look at me" quality that makes Madonna, Britney, Bowie, Jagger more than just people who sing songs. Not that it'll stop the idiots worshipping false idols, but you would have hoped that by now some sort of burning bush would have been sent as a warning. Instead, the column inches on the most unremarkable of singers still roll on; this week, Will outed himself to the News of the World; Gareth said he was brave in the Mirror; and so it goes on. Unedifying. It's probably not surprising that Burchill came out in favour in the Weekend Guardian…

No wonder Justine wanted out. In a wide-ranging interview with the Observer colour supplement, the most respectable of the Britpop generation gave out on why she's given up, frankly and open - except for the bits she didn't want her Observer reading mum and dad to know about…

HMV has started to stock Careless Talk Costs Lives, the Everett True attempt to do for left-field music writing what Mojo has done for rock. And rather fine it is, too - the fact that discovering a six page interview conducted by the former Legend! and the widow of John Lennon gives you a warm, happy glow probably demonstrates what a poor state the newsagent rock press is in. True manages to spend a large portion of his time with Ono musing on how great he is - surely no other journalist in the world would have managed to mention "The shop assistants wrote a song about me" in a piece about Yoko. "I see Everett is back to his old tricks" says the owner of the fanzine archive in another piece (this man has thirteen years of unread zines piled up in his offices, making it not unlike my bedroom), but it would be unfair to describe CTCL as a fanzine - it's got its faults (ET writes too much) but it's still fine, a place where there's space to ponder why Riot Grrl failed ("Some girls just discovered another cute way to dress hot - If it's just about clothes, we've got back to square one") is to be welcomed…

Mind you, the way the Wire has transformed itself from the sort of well-meaning magazine that wishes it didn't just go to WOMAD for the felafel and Peter Gabriel's sets into the house journal of All Tomorrow's Parties suggests there may actually be a whole sector developing here. Two decades in, The Wire has finally dematured. The current issue boasts a fine Sonic Youth blaggers guide, and Steinski doing the listening to records and commenting pieces…

It's perhaps ironic that in the course of this, he talks about the time 'The Motorcade Sped On' was released in the UK - it was an NME covermount, an ep with Sonic Youth and Sly and Robbie. This week's NME comes with an MTV-funded free video, featuring Starsailor and The Hives. Good, but hardly as jaw-droppingly exciting as what we were used to. In addition, both CTCL and Wire draw heavily on old NME and MM staffers - even Savage Pencil is still there, scribbling away. And as you look around you, from Steven Appleby in The Times on Saturday, to Danny Baker on Five Live, Andrew Collins on Six, Stuart Maconie every fucking where, even the odious Burchill - the whole of British Pop Culture has benefitted from the nme's influence. But it's hard to imagine any of the current crop of writers having much to offer in 2022…

One other off-road recommendation - The Circuit has started charging for its magazine, but the admirable former handbook for the New Acoustic Movement has beefed up its content to make good the deal. The current issue - confusingly called Devil's Music on the front page - even comes with a nifty free CD, complete with Giant Sand and The Handsome Family…

Anyway, what has the World's Second Biggest Selling Rock Weekly got for us? A nice piece of bet-hedging, actually, putting the Streets on the cover (so, if they are massive, the paper can claim "we had them on the cover back when they were nothing"), but sealed inside the giveaway bag so that the incredibly ugly bloke won't put anyone off. Is this the first front cover that nobody has ever seen?…

News goes exclusively behind the scenes at the Oasis video shoot - like we can't imagine what that's going to be lie; System of a Down observe "people don't just hijack planes and commit hari-kari without a reason", believe this to be a subversive thought; Michael Stipe is going to do some vocals for Faultline; Marilyn Manson really has blown it, by bothering to do interviews about how his pisspoor version of Tainted Love is coming out on the same day as Gareth Gates' debut single - Marilyn, a real god of headfuck doesn't spend time fretting about the runner-up on a talent show, honey; the NME wants us to spare a thought for poor Asher D because he's in feltham - ah, suddenly conditions in British prisons are meant to bother us because some stage school dipshit is charged in a connection with an incident where its alleged a gun was used to threaten a traffic warden?…

Gossip without balls: NME sells pill to grizzled party person; Svengali sacks starlet for shag shenanigans; pop star's daughter already havinh facials at five…

At last, the nme have number crunched the poll questions, to discover Inspector Frost fans prefer Moulin Rouge; Muse fans started drinking before they were 14 and radiohead fans are the most likely to own a cat…

new band hell: the mars volta - at the drive-in second wave; desaparecidos - destined to be the most miss-spelled Bright eyes side project; span - another nordic rock band…

How much longer did that "how you will you die" poll say you have left to live? Whatever, not long enough for Sum 41 talking about being totally into S&M bars. Yeah, yeah, yeah, and Jamie Theakston only popped in to use the phone, you wankers…

What do you know about cocaine? asks the government in a two page spread - incredibly pretty people have things to say, almost certainly written for them by a London advertising executive between lines - "My mate hasn't had any for ages and still gets paranoid" says one - she should, because WE KNOW WHERE SHE LIVES. Apparently a Dave Rowntree lookealike doesn't care as long as he's alright for Monday. You look like Dave Rowntree, son, it doesn't matter anyway. The strap line is "If you're wondering how cocaine causes anxiety or paranoia, call us." Paranoid about illegal drug use? Call the government. Yeah, can't see any problem with that…

Michael Douglas either was interested or fake interested in his band, and he gets excited. He's "never felt scared of fame or beauty." For some things, there is money. For everything else, there is Tim Burgess. He is our pop star…

Northern Uproar's Mike Skinner apparently starts all his anecdotes with "The other night I was really fucked…" but the new album isn't about drugs at all. It's about… um, people taking drugs. Did I say Northern Uproar? Sorry, I meant The Streets. Easy slip to make. If anyone calls them The Garage Northside, he'll pull a blade…

Walter from rival schools does the top ten thingy Pink Floyd, The Smiths, The Byrds. Oh, and Langley Schools Music Project, which is - of course - the current *essential* name to drop, don't you know?…

All new, all dumb reviews section: Albums - The Streets - Original Pirate Material ("ordinary life in he midlands", 9); Ian Dury - ten more turnips… ("what Robbie Williams could achieve if his songwriters had musical blood", 7); Giant Sand - Cover Magazine ("… should frighten off any atray Ryan Adams fans", 6); Ali G - 0ST ("multi-layered", 7)

SOTW is Marilyn manson's Tainted Love. Yes, yes, I've checked twice. It is. Steven Wells fault. Several layers down, Satellite's Lighten up the load is WSOTW. In between: Travis. Apparently Flowers in the window was thought - at first - too soppy to be on the album. Hmmm…

live: Doves in Brighton ( "If Fran Healy isn't worried, he should be"); Tommy & the Chauffeur in Blackwood ("quotes Bill Hicks and still sounds uncontrived"); The Vines at the Freebutt in Brighton ("this year's Strokes"); Foo Fighters in Salt Lake ("snatch the gold in crowd-pleasing")

And, finally, from Angst: "Mike Skinner = John Cooper Clarke." Aaaah. Now we see.
...pop papers... is live, weekly as part of the bothsidesnow list
Careless Talk Costs Lives site
Full versions of nme reviews and articles at NME.com
Glamour have a website, too
The Wire issue listings
Justine Frischmann Observer interview
Nerve on Britney's Hymen

BRIT STRIPPED:Possibly the best thing you'll read about Ms Spears' virginity has turned up in the ever-reliable Nerve magazine, picking up nicely how Brit's decision to try and keep the same demographic (instead of growing old with the audience, a la Madonna) has made her a prisoner a hymen nobody can any longer believe in:
"I remember hearing my seven-year old niece absently singing "Hit Me Baby One More Time" from the backseat of the car. She had no idea what the song meant. The charm of that video was that neither did Britney. The setup was soft-core porn, and it was utterly riveting, because it married a blank, baby face with a bursting woman's body. The mind seemed not to know what the body was doing to its audience (that's the essence of kiddie porn: "I'm being turned on by this underage girl, but it's okay because, look at her, she has no idea") which is why it made parents so uncomfortable, until it was widely reported that Britney was a virgin, a Christian, and a good girl. Don't worry, parents, if your girls love this music, dress like her, want to sing and dance like her, they're in safe hands. Britney's not a perv. She has no sexual longings of her own, and if you think filthy things about her, then you're the one with the problem."
full article in Nerve - Boy, if they had brought soliciting charges against that bloke who offered her cash...

RAPE ME: If you've been as confused as I have by all the various to-ing and fro-ing in the Nirvana court battles, there's a pretty good Chicago Sun-Times piece that updates and sketches out the whole struggle to date. It includes the time that - apparently not at Courtney's insistence - Kurt forced the other two to retrospectively change writing royalties from an even split to 75% for him, 12.5% each for them amongst other things, but also raises the more philosophical question: what IS a band? Should the Kurt musical doodles be released under his name, or the Nirvana banner? While the speculation makes you somewhat queasy - Grunge act turning to International Brand in your mouth - it's still fascinating. Plus, Courtney has got email from Christina Aguilera:
""I got an e-mail from Christina Aguilera. Know what she wrote? 'Na na, wass up?' You know what I wrote back? 'I'm in bed watching an Eleanor of Aquitaine documentary. [Imitates a school teacher:] Do you know who Eleanor of Aquitaine was?' I am not gonna sit there and go, 'Wass up?' That [freaking] Disney tutor should be shot! And Christina doesn't understand why I don't want to sing back-up on her record!"
The piece in full - Frances Bean won't be spoiled, she'll have to work a full *three* months a year. But what will Dunkin Donuts do the other nine?
NP on Six: Lloyd Cole live

SIX UPDATE: We've also learned today that Marilyn Manson played his first gig in an English theme pub in Florida.
One of the nice touches is they do Music News in the way Five Live do sports news - they're leading today on Fatboy Slim being moaned at for saying "E isn't that bad, really"
NP: Pulp - Babies. A rare '92 session version. Woo!

SIX STARTS: Anyone else listening to six music? I dunno if it's perhaps a sad reflection on the state of radio in the UK that a breakfast show which plays Ben Folds Five and Elvis Costello sounds so radical, but it's a start...
Not too sure about Jupitus yet - I think he might thrive a bit more when the listeners turn up and he's got stuff to bounce off. And, of course, it's still the first show, so anything could happen.
NP: What do i get - the buzzcocks (specially recorded version)
The first track was Ash, who won that poll. Jupitus suggested that Ash fans might be better placed to rig a computer based poll. Hmmm. He then played Sex and drugs and rock and roll anyway...
It's mainly online - and 911 on Sky Digital
NP: Offshore Banking Business...

ANOTHER CLOSURE: Shame to hear that Liverpool's second-greatest clubnight, Voodoo (and I mean second to Liquidation, not The Big Supermarket That Is Cream) is going to close in a few weeks, not quite making a decade of cutting edge dance. Doubtless to be the subject of Janice Long fronted documentaries in years to come...
voodoo website - domain name shortly coming free...
Ink magazine reports on the 8th birthday - it all seemed so full of hope back then...