Strangeways, Here We Come

People get precious about the authenticity of one’s love of The Smiths. “Sniveling pomposity” is my usual response to any accusation of class tourism. You don’t have to be born in a shithole like Hulme to love The Smiths. David Browne reviewed “Strangeways, Here We Come” in Rolling Stone magazine in 1987 and he says… Continue reading Strangeways, Here We Come

Pile it high

Sunday’s for me are a Bloody Mary at 11, Gin and Tonic at midday and a bottle of Pinot Noir at about 1pm. Then I get out of bed and check my phone to see whose invited me to lunch. Pork is an ironic meat. Nothing calms the soul quite like pork and yet it’s… Continue reading Pile it high

Nothings shocking

Jane’s Addiction very kindly came to Brixton in 2014 and did their album Nothing’s Shocking back to back. It was packed with 40 somethings who stood around and nodded into their beers. Even better live, Nothing’s Shocking has big guitar moments, sweeping soundscapes and a frankness. Electricity was crackling from Perry Farrell’s eyelids but all… Continue reading Nothings shocking