WE NAME THE SPAM BANDS AGAIN: PolePosition spamming again, this time offering a link to Fischerspooner (or the New Sputniks) as well. Streetteam, then? Bizarrely, the attempted spam claims "there's been a lot of talk about the Fierce..." which is funny, because there hasn't...

CREAMED OFF: As Ministry of Sound tries desperately to avoid become the Department for Pensions - its label is trying to simultaneously spread its wings and keep its core happy by calling its bog-standard Classic FM style album "Classical Chillout" - Cream in Liverpool seems to be starting to curdle after seven years of market leadership. Early signs of panic setting in at Wolstenhulme Square came when the advertising for its core clubnight turned from being the slightly smug, aspirational "It's part of you" glossy close-up of an impossibly sexy clubber grinning to a bargain basement, pub disco listing of who's up to be playing. Now, not only is it offering space to one of its rivals - the Main Event taking rooms there for a special - but the Liverpool Echo is suggesting that it's huddling together with another former rival, the Liverpool Lomax, and a hotch potch of second string educational institutions to put on some sort of something. When the dance lords need the help of guitar venues, it's starting to look like a bubble bursting.

WE NAME THE SPAM BANDS: Akash. They claim to be the most erotic band in the world. They are, rather, simply one of the most annoying...

CHART BEAT: It's been coming for quite a while, but the BPI's attempts to stop people getting hold of the midweek charts seem to finally be biting - as anyone who gets the Popbitch mailout will have seen today. We often lambast the British Record Industry for being stupid, and guess what? We're going to do it again. Back when I was a nipper, Top 40 day was some sort of music highlight, as Tuesdays meant transistors were smuggled into school, and we'd gather round waiting for DLT or Gary Davies (this explains why we didn't take radios in the rest of the week, of course) to announce the only chart that counted. The New. Top Forty. On Radio One. There was a feeling that you were hearing a genuine announcement - the fact it was the middle of the day, and the middle of the week gave the chart a sense of revelation. Straight from the British Market Research Bureau, tabulated and typed, then teletyped over to the Hairy Cornflake. Straight into our ears.
But since the chart started to be done on Sundays, that sense has dissipated. No matter what Goodier may try and convince you, you just know that nobody is sitting in Sony Towers tuned to One FM at seven on a weekend, hoping to hear if they'd have a job in the morning. The Boo Radleys revealed the truth of this that time they had a hit and expressly asked not to be told the position before it got announced on Radio One, so it wouldn't spoil the recreation of a moment of childhood magic.
And as the world sped up, and computers started to monitor everything second-by-second, the weekly chart started to look a bit old-fashioned, stuck in an era of swingometers and Shoot League Ladders. The midweek chart leaks, and then deluges, fought against this - suddenly, you were getting half-time reports. Instead of being "wait seven days and see", the charts became exciting again, as by Wednesday you got a forecast of what was happening. Sometimes it would show the battle over (Will Young and his lips outselling everything 79 to one), sometimes it foreshadowed a real battle. It worked like a mid-campaign opinion poll, or the show of betting while the horses are still in the paddock. Although it didn't really mean you'd be able to influence anything, it turned the chart again from being a dry list of sales figures into a proper league, a battle, something fun.
The BPI wonders why record sales fall. Then it conspires to make the charts dull again. And it doesn't see the link.
Really, the BPI should be starting to issue a daily update - not full charts, but perhaps the top ten risers day-on-day. Make the charts fun. Make the charts interesting. Make being number one mean something in a meaningless sort of way. Is that too much to hope for?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NME: WHAT THE POP PAPERS ARE SAYING 17.04.02
a new age, a new dawn, a new nme. or something...

but first: The Stereophonics are advertising alcohol on the continent. Music Week says so. Beer? Good welsh ale? Nope, Martini. We were going to follow Bill Hick's advice and remove them from the artistic roster, but we couldn't find them there to begin with...

Kerranng has got a pretty nifty freebie ep put together by the Hives, which is better than the Hives album, if you ask us. Clearly, its their plan for a spoiler for the nme relaunch, and it sort of works...

so, the new nme. What a botch. It is smaller, but its not magazine size - or rather, not what the British understand by the term. Its more akin to Rolling Stone, and if their plan is to get off the paper shelf and onto the front facing displays, they've dropped a huge bollock. In my newsagents, they were exactly where they were last week - on top of the Daily Sport. The inners are still newsprint, so smaller amount of cheap paper, plus a two pound "special" cover price probably suggests this shrinkage is nothing more than the idea of accountants on speed. More shamefully, the nme logo has been overhauled into some sort of lame-ass 3D version, which appears to be wrong where the bars enter the upstroke of the E...

ten years ago, the ruby anniversary was marked by Mozzer reading a copy of the paper with Vera Lynn on the cover. This time round, Liam is holding a framed copy of the dead Lennon cover. 1992, and the past was different and fascinating; in 2002, it's preserved and revered. And, frankly, if Liam is the best they can come up with for the 50th, they really should give up right away. Bowie not returning your calls, lads?...

news includes the promise made by coldplay that their next album will be their last (oh, yeah, and the manics released one and split up); Mark Beaumont attempts to recreate the Peter Buck air-rage incident - "seemingly nice bloke turns out to be an arsehole" not offering very much in the way of a challenge, we'd imagine; Craig Vines is sexy, isn't he?; the BPi are investigating that Oasis "leak" - could it be that People From Record Companies are bootlegging, like demons within? For those of you who can't be arsed to steal the thing of audiogalaxy - or, perhaps more likely, are dreading the day when every branch of Mark One has the album on constant loop - there's samples of the lyrical genius we can expect, including "God give me soul in your rock and roll band", "smoking all my stash, burning all my cash"...

gossip redesigned with no names: troubled rock star who used to beat his ex-wife about (most of them?); band overbudget on comeback trail; ex-rock wife bitching about former husband...

on bands - yeah yeah yeahs - at last, a proper, exciting band in on. with a female singer and everything. And big hair; Mum - more women, more iceland; Purplehaze - if you think we need some sort of D12, why not?...

Shirley Manson has done the imaginary CD thingy - she includes Dusty Springfield, Billie Holiday, Marianne Faithfull and Patti Smith. But there's Ian Brown, too, so it's not all bisexual icons. Apparently, Shirl used to carry a picture of Ian Brown in her wallet, Perhaps he's on the tenners in Scotland?...

aha, and it wouldn't be an nme special without a whole new scene - this one's called, um, no name, and seems to be nothing more than a collection of bands that aren't shit. Although in the current nme, that is, in itself, a novelty. No name is apparently Ikara Colt, The Parkinsons, Hoggboy, This Girl, McLusky, Miss Black America, The 80s Matchbox B-Line Disaster, Cooper Temple Clause and The Moonies. They are, mostly, excellent, but so disparate as to be almost an Ikea Scene - open plan and mix and match. Still, nice to see something that isn't shite...

here are the reviews, early, so we can get to the jelly of the 50th birthday jubilations - alec empire - intelligence and sacrifice ("certain there's no future, but one of it's most confident architects..."); Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot ("hard going and that is their point", 8); Safety Scissors - {arts water ("not big, but is clever", 6); Celine Dion - a new day has come ("its not just her heart that goes on", 3)

we'll come back to the special in a moment, but for now - sotw, quite rightly, is the sugababes freak like me. perhaps because nme is getting presents, they don't have a worst single this week...

live: fuck me with a crowbar, Jane Weaver is back. Again. This time she's dazzling and delightful, as she supports badly drawn boy in Manchester. The Vines in Camden ("just a great rock and roll band. That can mean the world"); Pink in Kings Cross ("exactly who are you?"); Garbage in Bristol ("fantastic frontwoman... average songs"); ryan adams in brixton ("the single most important song and dance man in the world")...

so, here's your pull out and discard guide to the anniversary pull out. Current editor (or "IPC head of decline management" stresses that nme stands for New Musical Express - erm, despite being the first issue in its history that doesn't have that on its masthead...

there's a three page overview of "Rock: Our part in its whoring" hats okay, then quickly, they go on to the Top 50 artists of what they call all-time. PJ Harvey just makes the cut, Pulp at our 44, Madonna at 42. Sinatra is at number 37 - one place below the Primals; the Manics edge Roxy down to 32; Dexys at 26 are a place below Frankie Goes To Hollywood. The Strokes, surprisingly, qualify for the number 17 position - Presley only makes 14. U2 are at nine, Pistols at five; and the Smiths, of course, are at number One. The Beatles, controversially, aren't in the list at all. Of course we're joking. Number 2...

former nme writers - but not Danny Baker - are asked about their favourite issue of the nme, which does sadly show up how pisspoor the current bunch are. Nirvana's first cover only came because Sonic Youth and The Cure both failed to turn up, reveals Mary Anne Hobbs; David Quantick remembers his time as "writing the Beano Christmas special, only evil", and Stuart Maconie talking about cockroaches. Marvellous...Sadly, the issue also reveals that jobs writing for the nme are now considered to be competition prizes rather than positions to be attained and cherished and loved...

black rebel motorcycle club remember the time their picture in the nme stopped them being beaten up by thugs...

they trawl through the worst covers ever, again, including the youth suicide one, which was pretty good, i always thought, and the time they painted Jack Barron's head with a globe; there's also a list of bands who got nme covers and... disappeared, including Baby Ampthetamine, The Other Two, SMASH, Campag Velocet, Cud and Terris. Oh, and T'pau...

and, um, that's pretty much it. Nowhere near as good as the 40th anniversary edition, and shockingly not even as good as the Melody Maker's 70th. But then you're not meant to stick around and see more than one of these zeitgeisty zero-ending years, are you? An alright issue for an alright magazine... that'd be yer nme, then.

XRRF IS SAYING YES TO: The New Pornographers. And Yeah Yeah Yeahs, of course.
XRRF IS SAYING NO TO: The next series of Popstars, which is threatening not one, but two new bands - one all girls, and one all boys. Although they say "it depends on the talent of the applicants" - a development from last time round, when breast size and grinning ability seemed to be the deciding factor.

INVESTIGATION CORNER: Never mind how Heathen Poetry came to be circulating on the web, let's investigate: Why?. Surely this has to be the least-awaited album of all time, hasn't it? And while the single may well finally knock Gareth Gate's Unchained Melody off the number one spot, it's standing (currently) a piss-poor tenth in the Amazon.co.uk ratings - the only chart that counts round here, right now.

ALSO IN THE LOGS: "Drawn pictures of Fred Durst killing people"

WE NAME THE SPAMBANDS: Of course, nobody minds over-enthusiastic bands getting a bit carried away and wedging internet communities with material praising themselves under the guise of independent reaction, but when they keep doing it, it gets a bit much, and so we're going to start to name and shame the bands who appear to be the worst offenders. Gorrilaz, surpisingly, are number one on this list, as members of their street team have been routinely trying to spark interest in this one-shot gag band since the word "go", and possibly, "rillaz." Long term inhabitants of webspace will probably have seen the cute fake emails sent by sources close to the band to many egroups asking versions of "Has anyone heard about the new Damon Albarn band? Apparently its called Gorillaz or something...:; more recently we were looking at messages waiting to be approved for bothsidesnow and found a small slew of emails between two members discussing the merits of being on the cartoon act's promo side - all the apparently genuine "So, how did you get involved with that?" and "It was wicked - I signed up at [URL] and get all this cool stuff" were clearly false, because none of the messages had actually made it to the list yet. And yet these two members were somehow having a conversation. Curious.
Another bad SpamBand: Pole Position. We haven't heard you, and we won't. Now, go away.

ACTUALLY, HE LOOKS RATHER SWIFT IN IT: Found in the referring URLs segment of the No Rock & Roll Fun stats: "R Kelly Pedestrian sex video." Ahuh. Dunno about anyone else, but over the weekend we got swamped with spam offering stills of what it claims is the famous video, which were amongst the funniest thing we've seen in a while. We hold no joy or love for R, but based on the stills, even David Blunkett would acquit him of taking part in this film. And, um, if the stills were genuine, wouldn't this mean the person spamming us was sending child porn across the web?

BANGS AND CRASHES: The Guardian Review chose this weekend to get Nick Kent to run a piece in praise of Lester Bangs, which, of course, found room to lament that there ain't nobody nowadays doing it like Bangs did. Which is undeniable, of course, but also as much Bang's fault as it is anyone elses. Bangs was the Beatles of music journalism, working without a template, literally often making it up as he went along. And along he went. He had excesses, he had talent, he also had a lot of crap published under his byline. Just like John Paul George and Ringo. And, like the "Fab" Four, the industry he worked for saw what he did, and saw that some of it was more popular than other bits, and calculated you get get someone to do the good stuff, and not do the rubbish, and for less trouble, too. Bangs could get away with what he did because there wasn't a grid in place, but he surely spun the web out behind him that has strangled rock writers ever since. His extremes made the people in the magazine offices which had adding machines rather than typewriters on the desks see how much was "too much", and to fight shy of any sign of individualism, lest it led to a lot more unfilled space and unexpected expenses. He was the alpha and the omega; the start of something, but also its downfall. The fear of Bangs finally won out when NME pulled its Censorship issue at the instruction of IPC, and set about turning the title into the Consume With Mother it is today. It's all very well for Nick Cave to lament that nobody can write like Bangs today - they can, there's hundreds of great music writers out there. It's just that after Bangs, none of them can get fucking published anywhere.

A FIVE PER CENT FALL IN THE MIDST OF ALL THIS: So, world music sales fell by five per cent last year - the first time since the CD was foisted upon us that the number of units sold has dropped, for example. Of course, the big companies are using this as a reason to call for even more cracking down on "pirating", with a mix of sleight of hand ("If nobody is buying records, it must be because they're stealing them") and obvious utter bollocks ("Since Linkin Park was the best-selling album in 2001 and yet sold less than five million copies, we can conclude there are four million pirated copies circulating in the US.") But, as we've said before, this is ignoring other factors. There is a grudging acknowledgment made that there has been an economic turndown, but this is being cited as making a bad situation worse, rather than the root cause. Oh, yeah? Music-as-a-mass-commodity - the way most people experience it, like sugar or beer, not the way we do - is a luxury. In hard times, people will simply cut back on their CD purchases. Since very few people buy more than a solitary album a month - if that - even if they drop one purchase, you're looking at quite a huge percentage drop. Then, you've got accept that nearly everybody who used to have a vinyl player will, by now, however reluctantly have upgraded to CD. Even people who think that the Unabomber was a bit too flashily cutting edge with his use of hammers and chairs did, a couple of years ago, recognise it was time to get something to play their Cat Stevens records on. For the past decade, the record industry has been artificially boosting its sales by flogging stuff for a second time. And while that gravy train has come to an end, the film industry has kicked off its version of the great CD bonanza, with the launch of DVD. Suddenly, cash is being swapped from buying records to replacing perfectly adequate VHS tapes with the exact same thing on DVD. That's gotta hurt music sales.
But, more crucially, the fall in sales - especially in the US - is clearly down to a critical decline in quality. In 2000, there was an N"Sync album, the Marshall Mathers album, Opps I Did It Again, the Beatles Number Ones. Last year, there was a less-than-alluring new Britney, another N'Sync, already past their best, Linkin Park, for god's sake. Alicia Keys is being touted as a genius, which shows just how dry the well has run in the past twelve months. People might still want to buy music, but there's precious little to buy.
The most interesting thing about the sales charts for the previous two years is the performance of the american version of Now That's What I Call Music... - in 2000, volume 5 sold just over three million copies, putting it at 17. The next year, volume six sold the same number, but was at number 10. Since you'd imagine that the sort of people who only want the singles are the types who'd be most likely to resort to taping off their computers, the fact that Now has kept its sales up seems to point out what a bunch of liars there are at Sony and Universal these days.
Of course, the truth doesn't matter - the downturn will be used as justification for putting out more shabby records that don't work properly - um, sorry, copy protected "compact discs" - and even more dubious acts, such as the tarriffs imposed against Ukraine by the US as a "punishment" for failing to control piracy in the country. This is an interesting concept in itself - the Bush administration having foreign policy dictated to them by the music industry - and raises a glorious possibility of precedent. Because, since the record industry are claiming that four million fake versions of Linkin Park's hybrid theory were created, and are circulating, in the US, surely the States should be taking action against themselves?

WE'RE SO PRETTY: The Charlatans have started to fulfill their promise to get the now-dropped single We're So Pretty out as a web-only thingy, though sadly it's in Windows Media Format and will expire on May 5th, so it's time to put cables across your PC, people. Their site is also reporting that Melting Pot, the Charlies-so-far album from a while back is being re-released, while a long-awaited DVD compilation is about to be spewed forth. Called Just Looking, it's going to have lots of Tim looking gorgeous on it, and amongst the extras seems to have bits of early Granada live gigs on it. Hurrah for that, then.
They'll tell you all about it - how, exactly, will it expire? In a puff of smoke, we hope

THINGS WE HATE IN MUSIC: "Bling Bling." It's all very well snorting at out of date slang and phrases - of course people saying "Groovy", "Punk's not dead" and "Robbie Williams is cheeky, innhe?" are risible, but that's because language dates and there's nothing as stale as yesterday's fresh mintings. But at least for a brief while, it sounds good and fresh. Not so "bling bling" - considering the whole R&B scene is meant to be the new home of rap's fastest wits and most inventive talkers, how ever did anyone ever decide to use this phrase for cash without being given a ritual debagging? It sticks out like a sore thumb in "the" J-Lo's Aint it funny, and makes any number of garage tracks sound like they've been guest-lyriced by the Teletubbies. For god's sake, stop it now.

PUT 'EM ON: I never thought I'd have a good word for Guy Ritchie, but if he's encouraging his wife from waving her breasts around in public, then I think we may have common cause at last. Now, if he could just go about collecting all the copies of Sex, that'd be even better - the precedent here would be when Mrs McCluskey made them go round reposessing all the copies of the Grange Hill school magazine.

CLEAR MURKY: This is a story that's been bubbling away in the States for a while, and is potentially more serious for the state of music than any file-swapping issue that the music industry frets over. In short, Clear Channel, a gigs and radio company, is rapidly building a monopoly of both local radio and concert promotion in the US; and you don't need to be Milton Friedman to know the implications of that for music makers and record labels. Allegations include that Clear are deliberately making losses on some contracts in order to force competitors out of business, and using 'warehousing' - whereby fake companies are established to hold radio licences for Clear that, legally, they're barred from holding under regulations designed to prevent, um, one company dominating a market. Warehousing isn't unknown in the UK - back before restrictions were relaxed in the 90's, EMAP's bankers owned some broadcast licences which were operated by, um, EMAP. It's not illegal, of course, but it's not playing by the rules. You could argue that a lot of the sludge-like radio we get in the UK is due to the dominance of a few groups - Capital have just announced they're going to rebrand one of their portfolios of FM stations all as Capital, but not their Century stations, or X-FM; EMAP also publish magazines, run TV Channels and are piloting both record labels and artist management. The implications of that sort of intergration are pretty stark, of course. And things are looking even grimmer in the US - since two of the biggest ways of getting new music to an audience are through gigging and radio, if you have one company hoovering up those outlets, you could be looking at a single monolith dictating which bands the greater public get to hear. And that's got to be a bad thing.
At long last, Washington has woken up to the threat, and for the first time in memory has turned down an application by Clear to acquire a station. It might come too late; it certainly won't stop them. But at least it suggests they're taking it seriously.
Salon reports - on the other hand, if Clear are hiring Englishmen for their breakfast shows, we've got a demo tape...

PAINT IT BLACK: We have no idea what it's all about, but there's an event slated for the L2 in Liverpool on May 24th called Remix. The bands featured are the Bunnymen and the Coral, but what's really intriguing is that the thing is apparently being co-promoted with the Tate Gallery. Now, we have fond memories a few years back of a London club night called The Alice Club which featured - for the two weeks in which it thrived - a couple of bands from Liverpool playing music while someone painted in the background. Surely this can't be the same thing again? More as we get it, of course.

THIS WILL BE THE LAST TIME - SORT OF: What the pop papers say, 10/4/2002:
yes, in a moment, live, here, we'll be opening our bag that the nme has come in to see if my free Oasis poster is one of the fifty signed ones - apparently after that Liam forgot to spell his name. How exciting is that, then?...

anyway, although there will still be pop papers next week (no groaning, please), this is the last one ever which has a name that speaks truth. for, as you know, next week there will be no more pop papers, only pop magazines, and a bit of us all have died. nobody say nothing about how the reduction in size probably has as much to do with saving on newsprint costs as it does getting a "good" position on the newsstands - after all, look how that worked for the melody maker...

this week's private eye (which could start to produce a smaller edition and call it Inch high Private Eye) reviews Tony Wilson's admittedly headfucking novel based on the film of his life, and gets all vexed because it doesn't know what is real and what is just made up. Sigh. Obviously Tony is no Jeanette Winterson, but surely someone in the Gnome's employ has heard the dictum "There is no such thing as autobiography - there is just art and lies"? My god, if the literary pages of the Eye ever stumble across Popbitch, they'll throw a goose in their knapsack with the lies, lies, lies entwined with the truth...

okay... small roll on the drums... let's see if bsn has won... no. shame. sadly, I shall have to destroy a poster untouched by them. grrr. another free gift, however, is nicer: a heavenly CD - with the Doves, Beth Orton, Manics and - oh yes - Flowered Up's 'Its on.' Any one of these tracks is worth everything Liam has ever signed, and more...

there's also a paper in there, too - Doves have the honour of being the last decent sized picture in the nme, ever (again, though, the ugly band get a cover because its not visible on the newsstands...)

page three screams "New Primal Scream Album to bomb in the US" - 'Bomb the pentagon track may lead to stateside blacklisting post September 11th.' The crucial word here is "may", as this is a total non-story. The sole fact is that the band are going to include a version of Bomb the Pentagon on their new album. Which isn't even due for release in the US as they don't have a deal there. They've not even bothered to raise the issue with any American labels, or the state department, or even the band. Shoddy, shoddy, shoddy journalism, and especially shameful to be barking up non stories off the back of September 11th...

other news: "the nme can reveal" Robbie is doing that G'N'R thing that we banged on about last week; Liam is back on the booze, and probably going to piss away another tour; So solid are going to hold their own festival - well, they won't need security, will they? they can do their own; Dr Dre says that R Kelly better not be on *that* tape - "If you touch a kid, that's it, you're over" - um, unless you reach a healthy out of court settlement, eh, Michael?; Phil from Radiohead is running in the London Marathon - apparently he wants to ask Jimmy Saville some questions; we don't often say fairplay to the nme so gold star for actually bothering to mention in a bit about what parts of britney are sponsored that they're AOL's whores. Although they do seem to think that Britney's endorsement of milk was something to do with her tits; talking of shite bands named after band members: Shaun William Ryder...

popbitch stories they pinched, but wouldn't provide names for: hairy and hot tipped rock newcomers are "secret Christians"; brit band festival rates slump; art-rock band with lead singer smack problems (erm - all of them?)...

on bands: emo types Save The Day; Vue - san fran band with one non-man; and blackpool towers The Shining...

run for your lives: most downloaded ringtone from nme.com this week is the bloody hindu times. Prepare your "Who's phone's got the abba ringtone" gag now...

Idlewild threaten to eat Mark Beaumont in the course of a ramble around Scotland. They don't though. Bah. The new album is about a sense of identity you can't understand, which is good news; Roddy doesn't slag around on tour, which is bad...

Morisette! The Sugababes announcing that "I don't think the whole world should start doing the bootleg thing now. That would just kill the flow" - which is splendid, because (i) you don't think that your cover of 'we don't give a damn about our friends' - a cover of a fucking bootleg - might already be a sign that the underground has already been shrinkwrapped and ready-rolled? and (ii) hurrah! finally, a music scene that really is more indie-schmindie than indie - "we can do it, but if you do it - it's shit"...

Chicks on Speed are, apparently, electroclash - which seems wrong to us. And, personally, we'd have our doubts about ladytron being described as part of a scene that we're not entirely sure actually exists. Interesting pisspoor journalism: Fischerspooner are described as having signed their two million deal with Ministry of Sound "in February, in a blaze of publicity" - um, how come the nme only reported it in April, then? Did the blaze of publicity not burn bright enough for the paper to notice, or is this just wrong? And am I the only person who feels the Fischerspooner are like the London Theatre of Brent doing Romo?...

"This time, we had confidence, and you can hear that" claim the Doves. What? No more mumbling?...

album reviews: damon goes to mali thingy ("You don't have to be WOMAD to work there, but it helps", 6 - it also politely points out that this time last year, Albarn was pushing an album of Icelandic music); Girls against boys - you can't fight... ("dangerously close to getting what they deserve", post-strokes, 6); I Am Sam OST ("Nick Cave [covers] Here Comes The Sun", 5); Hoobastank ("truly do suck ass", 4)...

sotw: doves- there goes the fear ("moping unlikely to be banished forever"); wsotw - cosmetique - jackson ("Krishnas with theremins")...

live - the strokes in brixton ("woooh"); Mclusky in the metro club ("even the hecklers go home happy"); jimmy eat world in portsmouth ("not quite convincing")...

did I mention that this week's nme costs £1-50? Did I mention next week's costs £2? Remember, the kids: It's you who fund AOL's DVD case mail-outs...

BITCHBITCH: Another popbitch moan: the front page is currently sneering at Liz Kershaw because she danced - BY HERSELF - at a wedding.
Now, it seems to me that this is further evidence that most of the team there don't actually enjoy any music other than the sound of animated gasps at their little logos going on.
Is it just me, or is dancing by yourself one of the greatest feelings of liberation you can have? The music has hit you so much it pushes aside any fear of social embarrassment, and you've got the floor entirely to yourself, and the music is loud... one of the greatest experiences in life, surely?

AVOID AT ALL COSTS: BBC2, 8 pm tonight: The Naked Chef. Jamie Oliver AND Jamiroquai.

NO SURPRISES. AGAIN: The worst kept secret in music, that the NME is going to be relauched as a smaller format magazine, has been confirmed - this week's edition will be the last tabloid music paper. They reckon the relaunch - and it is only the fourth or fifth in the last five years - will be accompanied by an investment in editorial content, which is much needed. But probably just means they're taking someone on to sub the 200 word pieces down to twenty five. Forthcoming Bowie piece to read: "He's old. He's good. But he was a bit rubbish in the middle."
MediaGuardian reports - still newsprint inside, because its not like anyone cares about anything other than the cover, is it?

LUXURIOGLASTO: Missing the point entirely, some bloke has bought a field next to the Glasto site where he will offer - for £650 a day - a nice play to stay during the festival. This may be good news for the likes of Ian MacCulloch, who famously complained about how bad the mud was for his white trousers (and whatever happened to the libel action relating to that?), but you have to hope that the man making this offer has got his security sorted. Because now Eavis has gone behind a ring of steel, where will those turned away be likely to turn their attention to next?
It doesn't really make sense, anyway - sure, you might have a comfier bed, and, yes, it is the next farm along from Worthy, but anyone who's had to trudge from the Green Field to the Pyramid Stage a few times a day will know this is hardly nearby in any sense - it's not going to be practical to nip off during Rod Stewart's set to have a quick wizz in the sparkling toilets next door, unless you've set aside a half hour. And if it rains, you're still going to be wading neck deep in mud to get to see the bands, aren't you?
BBC reports - you could probably have Rod Stewart come to your house for that sort of cash...

R KELLY UPDATE: "Another sexual harrasment case wrapped up nicely" smiles R, snapping shut his chequebook.
NME reports - and enough left over for a pair of brunette twins, too

STEADY ON ROBBIE, HELP IS ON ITS WAY: Obviosuly having decided that running up expenses at SXSW and the New Music schmooze wagons is the way to go, the BPI are cooking up plans to make American trips a year-round delight by opening an office to promote British Music in the US. Clearly, the belief is that Americans simply haven't heard of S Club Juniors, rather than that they have heard, and they're just being polite and looking the other way until we get it out of our system. It's hard to see exactly what this 'office' will do - presumably any company that is part of the BPI monolith would already have people dedicated to ensuring deals can be tied up overseas; any company that isn't won't be able to benefit anyway. It's actually akin to the Merseyside's MMDA collection of demo tapes, which currently are gathering dust in their headquarters - just as the MMDA seems to believe there's a massive appetite for Liverpool music in London but people don't know where to look for it, the BPI must imagine that Americans just need a bit of extra help to sign up artists from this country. Here's a tip, BPI, if you really want to do something to help promote British music in America: stop them getting copies of our Top 40. Would you open a chequebook for a country that has drivel like Gareth and Will dominating the sales lists?

HE DOES HAVE A POINT: This, from Marc "thirty six different sorts, apparently" Almond's mouth by way of Ananova:
Marc Almond thinks the public should not have to put up with the Pop Idol losers releasing records.
He believes Will Young should be the only pop star to emerge from the series.
The Soft Cell star says the other finalists can get lost.
He said: "It's very easy to be famous nowadays, but it's also a lot easier to disposed of.
"Why do we have to put up with the Pop Idol losers and runners-up releasing records? It's all very Saturday night karaoke. There's room for Will Young because he won the competition, but the rest can f**k off.
It does make the long, rambling series to find just one Pop Idol a bit redundant now that they're all releasing products - it's rather like at the end of WWTBAM? Chris Tarrant leaning over and saying "You had £16,000. You've now got £1,000. But here, we'll give you a million anyway." At the very least, the losers could be made to have the word "LOSER" tatooed across their forehead.
That Will looks horrible, doesn't he? I mean, really does come across like the sort of little shit in an office who'd suck up to the boss, and would be the one who volunteers for doing the writing on the big flip chart. Horrid, horrid lips. He simpers.

GETS ALL HER FACTS FROM THE LATEST SMASH HITS: Following Emma Jones' decision to take a job more in keeping with her talent (and that should be read icily, by the way) the search is on for someone to take over the chair. Obviously, the days are long gone when this was the best job for an inventive, agile mind, but it's curious that EMAP are having to advertise the post in today's media guardian - is there really such a shallow pool of talent in the company they can't promote from within? Ominously, while acknowledging that the ideal candidate will "love pop", the advert requests that "you know teenagers from their Nokias down to their Nikes." Of course it is a "consumer magazine", but all the while the title is treated as an advert delivery method, it's never going to regain its spark.
If you fancy a go at running Ver Hits, send a CV, 200 word critique of where the magazine is now, and 500 words of plans to andrew.harrison@emap.com. Closing date April 15th.
If you'd prefer something a little less career-making, and a little more fun, Kerrang are running a competiton whose winner gets to interview Shirley Manson and the, um, rest of Garbage. The details are here, but you'll have to be quick. Our five questions would be:
No, really, what do you think you're doing with the hair?
What would it take to get Garbage to cover Goodbye Mr McKenzie's 'The Rattler'?
If you hate doing interviews so much, why on earth are you subjecting yourself to this one?
Butch, was that an ironic nickname?
Shirley, was all that stuff about you being mates with Jenna Elfman that embarassed you in the NME interview the band's coded way of hinting that you're dabbling with Scientology?
No, I don't think I'll win, either...

AND THE OTHER ONE... This mildly amused me, and probably only me, but turning over a large pile of papers yesterday I found a page torn from the much-missed Shout, Liverpool John Moores University's student magazine until they merged with the University's title to produce Liverpool Stupid. Um, Liverpool Student. (Actually, while I'm veering off the subject, why on earth did they take the design and format from the Gazette and the journalism from Shout, when Shout looked good enough to buy but was written so poorly it once managed to libel landlords whose gas fires had killed someone; while the Gazette made the Morning Star look like an international fashion magazine but was actually quite well-written? But anyway, where was I? Oh, yes...)
This piece had the results of a competition, and provided the answer to the question "Name the members of Take That." Guess who they missed out? Yup, Mr. Williams.
Apparently, Robbie has joined the Sunday Times Rich List this year - that long, inaccurate list of people who are considerably richer than you they produce every year. ("It says here the Queen has a lot of money.") Which is in a way kind of depressing, don't you think? If Gary Barlow had lots of money, you'd know he at least would be spending it well. But Williams? How many cookie jars that make farting noises can he possibly want? What will he do with that cash? It should be taken off him for his own good. And I'm volunteering...

QUIET CONTEMPT: More on that B&S backwash, then. As if to demonstrate how out of favour the band are now, there's a review of them in The Guardian this weekend in which Alexis Petridis seems desperate to avoid being caught doing anything as unfashionable as actually liking them. The main gripes seem to be "too quiet" (well, yes) and that, by directing the whole of the gig to the diehard fans at the front (and applauding microphone stand adjustments really is some sort of new low in sycophancy, I guess), the band are, um, showing contempt for their audience. I'm not so sure; usually I find myself nodding quietly along to AP's reviews, and I certainly wouldn't be as foolhardy as to attempt to argue that B&S's tweeness doesn't sometimes get cloying, but how could you hear them cover Another girl, another planet and not feel you've had a good night?
The review in full(minating) - I'd say hats off to a band who actually have a "We have enough fans; we're not hiring right now" attitude

IF YOU'RE FEELING SINISTER: or maybe just artistic, you can design a new Belle & Sebastian album sleeve and win, well, enormous prizes. Probably. Or at least the grudging respect of your friends and family. Unless, of course, they're part of the now-tsunami like swirl of nay sayers who form the current b&s backlash.
Matador have the competition - watercolours and blunt crayons at the ready

OH, BUCKS OFF: Michael Stipe "removed his glasses and cried" as the jury acquitted Peter Buck on the air-rage charges, says The World At One. So the jury - who I'm sure didn't have Stars in their eyes or anything - have chosen to believe that a man who was coherent enough to yell "I am REM, I can make up a story and get you sacked" was monged out on sleeping pills. Well, that Bono wouldn't lie, would he?