The Boat That Rocked

Fuck off, Richard Curtis, you boring old bastard. And you look like the Spitting Image puppet of Barry Norman.

Phil Oakey's Electric Dreams Part 6: Science fiction

Hi-ya!

Oakey's back. By popular demand. What 'ave yer been up to, then? No seriously, love. Are yer keepin' well? No-one's putting on yer, are they? If they are, Uncle Phil will have a word with 'em. Visitors of old will recall that last year I dispensed loads of advice for yer on computers, pop music and stuff like that. Just look under some old posts for a few of me gems. Why your Blogmaster has chosen to write a piece about Erasure instead of The League is beyond me.

As you may know I haven't been on 'ere in a while because I've been kind of busy, with The League and other things. I've been out wi Richard Hawley, been recording a fantastic song with The Pet Shop Boys ('This Used To Be The Future') on the bonus 'Yes' disc) and I've been working with Little Boots. She's a cracking lass. In fact I've had a right belting time, me. Hey, hey, it seems no-one can resist that Oakey magic these days! But enough about me. Today I want to share with you my true passion. And it ain't pies, lacoste aftershave or the mix CD's I buy every fortnight at HMV in Leeds!

When I were a lad, growing up in a small town in Yorkshire, television was in black and white. Sky + was but a twinkle in the eye of Sydney Youngblood. We were lucky to get two channels in those days, let alone three! Yorkshire TV didn't go live until the early 70s, nor did it go full colour until 1980, and even in those days it were full of Parky and 'Emmerdale Farm', for about three hours a day. I had to make do with rusty books from the mobile library and comics I read in the one decent newsagents just out of town, or whatever I could afford once I saved up some of my wages from me paper round and glass collecting. Course I watched Doctor Who. 'Who' didn't? But they only showed it at the local cinema once a fortnight. I always had a soft spot for Jon Pertwee's version of the timelord. I have vivid memories of watching that episode where the Doctor's mind was taken over by a fruit virus and he had to kill some kids by this old rubbish tip. Classic television!! So I lived and breated books, comics and science fiction films! Anything that made me escape from Yorkshire for a couple of hours a week. I didn't want to grow up in a place where all the ladies over 16 wore rollers and headscarves. From an early age I wanted mystery and glamour and if I couldn't go to a world inhabited with lip gloss, skimpy costumes and wild ideas, I would bring it to Yorkshire meself!

I remember watching 'Logan's Run' and thinking, 'Wow, imagine if shopping centres and discos could really be like that!' 30 odd years later, they are exactley like that! Mad or what? Then when I was about 14 or something, I discovered Dick (That's Philip K., yer dirty dickheads, lol, lol!) That's when my mind and imagination were really expanded, like. All those imaginary worlds, alternative realities, bizarre characters and demented Donna's! I wanted to live inside a Philip K. Dick novel. I wanted to take tons of Chew-Z, or use Ubik and live in a conapt among burning Earth or a hovel on Mars, fly my car across a time distorted city scape, not knowing or giving a shit where I would end up. I suppose this is one of my main influences and why I went into music. With The League. The Human League. One of our missions was to decorate this dull, grey landscape with a shimmering futuristic soundtrack that were a bit rough around the edges, like Kraftwerk but with a flash of Abba. We aimed to celebrate being European and be proud of our Yorkshire roots at the same time.

In 1983 there was this film set in Sheffield called 'Threads' where the whole place was obliterated by nuclear bombs. In 1973 I wouldn't have cared less if it had happened. But what has the future present left us with now? Sky + and 'Dancing on Ice' and Noel Edmonds. It's like living in 1980s East Germany with a smile. It's a world Alan Moore has spent many nights screaming about for hours. You can't walk the streets and eat your pie and mind your own business nowadays without someone from Google or the local council filming it and asking your business. What happened to the days when you couldn't walk the streets for fear of being sexually abused by beautiful groupies and Human League fans? Not a chance, mate.

Right. That's me done, for now. I've got some shirts to iron and some lacoste to dab onto my neck. See yer!

'We'll always be together!'

x

Phil

Album review: Christ Embassy- Conspiracies

'It's like nothing you've heard before,' the press release that accompanies an old TDK 46 cassette, states. 'By the time you will have received this, we will all be very dead.' And lo and behold, is it really a myth? Apparently not, if the grainy newspaper cutting, reporting the deaths of four band members with self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the mouths is to be believed. Whatever happens with the fate of the album it's so far the best kept secret within and outside the music industry. The music press won't certainly touch this story and those lucky few like me, who have received the promo cassette, are still left feeling that they have just had a death threat.

So what does the album sound like? Well let's look at the tracklisting and I'll attempt to decode. I was going to put up a piece of music from them but,w e'll, I'll explain later.

1. All The Freud's in All of London Town And I Had To Bump Into You

If Razorlight were formed in the 1920's and were inspired by cheese, Isaac Newton and a bar of soap, then it would sound like this. Features the phrase that will haunt you forever, 'Fandabbidozy, cat features!'

2. Grace Jones Was Behind the 2001 Massarce of the New Yorker

Starts off with a lovely acoustic guitar strum and a refrain which bemoans Nick Hancock, Nick Ross and Nick Owen, before descending into a chaotic 1989 drenched Miss Wet T shirt soakathon. It must be the only song that I've heard this year that features slowed down explosions and the tinny voice of Michael Caine crying over the phone.

3. Suicide Watch

Quite simply it features 18 minutes of sound effects of the clickings of the mouse, pressumably to a website where Welsh emos egg each other on to see who can die the fastest. The song ends with a disappointed yawn.

4. I Blame Jack Bauer

An intriguing dub mix featuring Jack Bauer's famous line's from his work with Captain Birdseye and Rosemary Ford. 'What's on the board Miss Ford?' delivered by Buaer, to the accompaniement of Christian Bale's human beatbox is simply vicious!

5. Knuckleduster

Sadly this is a really disappointing generic, sub-Prodigy, part Oasis number which doesn't do anything for anyone. It's a terrible way to start side 2 after it ended with a weeping Bruce Forsythe.

6. You Might Say That But I Couldn't Possibly Comment

This is a romantic duet between an imagined Keith Baron and Windsor Davies. Features sadism and watersports. It's a sexy, sunkissed, lush soundscape that recalls the Beach Boys experimental album, 'Boards of Xanadu' which was only released in Preston in 1971.

7. Inside We Were All Dead

A true post lifestyle anthem surrounding guilt, lost youth and laughing at the failiures of your old friends, seeing them age, etc It is about two and a half minutes in when the tape chewed up.

Credits.

Written and Produced by Svelt Undsun, Jeremy Irons, McManus McDonald, and Miss Mary Bell.

Rebel diamonds: The Killers at MEN Arena 9,10th March 2009

'The emotion it was electric,' sang Brandon over the Caribbean sun drenched 'I can't stay.' (An unlikely favourite of mine from 'Day and Age') And you believed every word. I've never been a religious person but ever since I saw them last week in Birmingham and was lucky enough to bag tickets to see them on two nights in Manchester this week I, my word, I believe in them now. I'm sure I could be forgiven by fans of The Killers for seeing the light in Brandon. In another life he could easily be a faith healer.

'We got our tickets off ebay!' two starry eyed girls at my side said to me. I could believe that. Last year when tickets went on sale there was about three people in our household on the phone for three hours on that Friday morning, with pages of ticket agents on the desktop, only to be told they had 'all' sold out. Hmm.

'The starmaker says it ain't so bad.'

'How does it happen?' I ask myself. What kind of transformation does Brandon go through before he goes onstage at every gig, every tour, every festival? Off stage the poor fragile bloke is a bag of nerves. I want to stick up for him, thump anyone who would cause him harm, and my female companions want to mother him, love him, and have him. Does he hit himself with leaves, does he slap his face in the mirror uttering 'Do it boy, do it Brandon, you can do it again.' Does he chill out with a few Slurpee's, or listen to some Stuart Price remixes? Does he slap in his old Pet Shop Boys 'Discography' cassette? Meanwhile the rest of the band are suitably chilled out as they professionally hammer out the fan favourites during the two different set lists. It's as if they could be in the studio or in the garage rather than an arena with tens of thousands of screaming fans. And boy, do the fans get all the hits. Depending on what night you've attended you're treated to two differing spectacular openings, 'Spaceman' or 'Human', followed by a mix of tracks from the new album, 'This is your life,' The world we live in', I can't stay,' 'Joyride', 'Neon Tiger' along with staple 'oldies', such as 'Mr Brightside,', 'Somebody Told Me,' 'Smile Like You mean it' and well, you know the rest.

Each set list and opening moments equally inspire enthusiastic, hysterical singalongs, bouncing boobs, air-punching and all the rock fan cliche's which are true for a good reason. Throughout, Brandon struts, preens, stands on the amps and knowingly marches along the stage, with determination, claim-staking proficiency and belts his little heart out. In short. Brandon fucking owned us all. And the new extended version of 'For Reasons Unknown'(Beautiful, whimsical butterflies) does actually threaten to raise the 'mother fucking' roof.

The Killers delivered a spectacular show featuring Vegas-like strip lightning, the surely now iconic 'K' stand by Brandon's keyboard, confetti cannon during 'All these things that I've done' and a wall of sparks, pyrotechnics and the general spectacle of Brandon's nod to Manchester's pop icons New Order and Joy Division with their version of 'Shadowplay' on the first night in Manchester and a stirring and devastatingly beautiful acoustic version of New Order's 'Bizarre Love Triangle' on the second and last night of the tour. 'There's no other city I would rather be ending the UK tour in,' said Brandon of his 'spiritual home' 'Come and live here, then!' one was tempted to shout.

As for the MEN Arena, the venue is a good place for doing Mexican waves as we were on Monday night but asking you to pay £3.80 for a pint of weak lager really does take the piss out of the fans goodwill. Some fans walked about with 'I got soul' tee shirts, others 'Are we human?' shirts and you could even buy 'Smile Like You Mean It' toothbrushes. One of the better items, I thought was the poster of the absent band in the desert.

'Would you catch me if I fall?' Brandon once asked a festival audience a couple of years ago. I would, Brandon. Every time. For reasons unknown you've turned a casual fan into a gibbering fan boy. I really should know better. (But there's nothing better) I hope you're proud of yourself.

If you can't hold on for another concert '...hold on.'

Mysteries Unanswered

There are so many unanswered questions in this life which we may never know find out the truth, you know such as who killed JFK, is Paul Burrel gay, and what it is that possess people to actually go out and take the trouble to buy a Scouting For Girls record. But here are some more questions, destined to go unanswered.

How does Kirstie Allsop manage to display blatant protctionism, have disappointing inclinations and yet remain slightly fuckable from behind?

Does anyone actually find Mark Dolan entertaining in the slightest? Really though. I mean...really. The Friday Night Project is one thing but for fuck's sake, 'Balls of Steel.' Pranks? It's so 80s, surely.

Why does George Lamb look like he's just vomited? Guilt maybe?

Charlie Brooker, why don't you say what you really think? Scared of offending celebrites, comedians, producers, commissioning editors?

How acceptable is it for the likes of Jess Cartner-Morely to offer credible fashion advice when she looks like a team of dead mice have risen from the dead to dress her, the plum faced bitch?!?

Boris...why are the type of Londoners who vote for things so fucking stoopid? What did we do import the same dicks who actually voted George Bush in?

Nick Grimshaw...why is it that this, and other Primrose Hill tossers are being given contracts to present of so very cutting fucking edge stuff? They all look like arseshitting clones!! AS IF they could be role models for anyone. AS IF.

Internets fads. Now it's the turn of some obese bastard who supposedly looks like a thumb, only he DOESN'T!!!Really where is his fucking thumb nail you dumb assess!!? Hate internet fads. Remember the Rick Rolling one? Oh, how very amusing, tee-hee.

Oh, and one mystery, flash mobbing, the 2002 fad. Are they supposed to be amusing or clever? If so, why are they rather smug seeming? And why...are they sooo shit and disorganised in reality?

Come on! Grow up people!

BEST BEFORE BITTER AWARDS and REVIEW 2008

Well another bizarre year in the realms of popular culture last year. Already the arses and so called (don't laugh) 'tastemakers' at the BBC are telling us who we should be listening to, who they are going to make sure are gonna be big and not considering that we can discover our own music, art, film and fun thanks very much. Now then, before I go into my pessimistic phase I'll give you my list of things I enjoyed last year, just to show that I'm not a misanthropic soppy git. In no particular order I enjoyed:

CUT COPY
WALL-E
THE DARK KNIGHT
LINDSTROM
THE KILLERS-HUMAN
SALLY SHAPIRO
ASHES TO ASHES
SPARKS-EXOTIC CREATURES OF THE DEEP
RICHARD HAWLEY LIVE
HEROES (Season 3 obviously)
CHANNEL 4 NEWS (Although it wasn't as good as 2007)
GOLDFRAPP
BLOC PARTY-INTIMACY
MGMT-KIDS
DEAD SET

Didn't do an awful lot of reading or film 'buffing' in 2008 though so...

In 2008 I took a bit of a sabbatical as well so thanks to Phil Oakey for filling my blog with positive lifestyle tips. He may return later this year, we'll see.

As you can expect there were some things in 2008 that I wasn't as keen on and naturally I was at a loss to why anyone would be keen on these things and people so I've decided to give them my own bitter awards which they truly deserve, as a precursor to the pointless awards they'll get anyway. My awards don't recognise or reflect significant achievement or talent, they don't change they world or progress causes, they are just something I put together in the office one day while I was bored. So now it's time for THE BEST BEFORE BITTER AWARDS 2008!!

1. Mildly Annoying Tosser Of The Moment- FAT CHRIS (Gamestation Advertisement)

2. The Lesley Douglas Award For Professionalism, Vision and Foresight- Haringey Council

3. On Yer Bike Award For Cold Hearted Bastard With Thoughtless Policies- James Purnell

4. The 'Tatu' Award for Least Controversial Song and Video of The Year- Katy Perry-I kissed a girl

5. The Woolworths Award For Most Obvious Discount Comedy And The Most Pointless Outdated Pastiche- Peter Kay as Geraldine McQueen.

6. The Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross Quality Control Award For Being a Childish, Bitter, Cuntish Wanker But Generally Getting Away With It and Not Being Suspended, You Bastard-
George Lamb (BBC 6 music, featuring his interview with Ray Davies)

7. The Why Aren't You Funny Award- Kevin Bishop

8. Most Optimistic But Ultimately Pointless Peer Pressure Group-
Get George Lamb off 6 Music

9. Most Disappointing Use of Old Friends and Colleagues Time on Facebooks-Joining very dubious groups and causes, such as vigilante groups. This doesn't make you caring or concerned, it makes you appear rather prehistoric and fick.

10. Prince Philip 'Faux Pas' Award- Boris Johnson. This oaf's whole life seems to have been a faux pas but he can swtich his oafish act off in private many people have noted.

11. The Yes We Can Award for Continual Torture, Murder, Bullying, Starvation and Tyranny- Robert Mugabe

12. I'm Alright But Balls To You Award- Bernard L. Madoff

13. The What It Means To Be British Award- Lapland

Bye.

Best Before Resolutions

Hey-ho! Christmas, eh? Didn't it come and go so quickly? So have you snapped up all those bargains yet or are you one of those trembling, sweating, piggerish masses fighting to grab a really generic and bland t-shirt from Primark, like you normally do every other Saturday along with the other gibbering wrecks? Did you panick buy about five loafs of bread this year, you serial greedy mongs, you? Why was your party cancelled? Oh you went to a virtual one instead. How very 2008! Well, well I guess it was an early night after all with the extra blanket and the unread Italo Calvino novel. So what were your highlights? The blizzards? Zavvi and Whittards not so much as going for a Burton but going the same way as Woolworths. Maybe the death of Eartha Kitt stirred up some emotion. No? Surely we're not back to that again! OK, so the weak Sterling isn't nice, I know, I know. I reckon by the end of 2009 all those jokes about left over turkey and the old nags speech will seem somehow nostalgic.

I was only thinking about a month ago how we in Britain lead the way in our promotion and endorsement of disappointment, bitterness and incompetence. We have our very own Joker's to spread chaos and confusion to the masses in its many forms so expect more disappointment, injustices, stupidity, headaches, repressed rages and body numbing depression. but let's be OPTIMISTIC. This is indeed an optimistic place, this blog, and I won't have your tears dripping on my screenshot. I'm going to be the solution, the resolution to your new year. With my guide and resolutions for the coming year, I can guarantee that there will be a smile on your face for more than five minutes at some point in 2009.

RESOLUTIONS

*We must remember that things are NEVER as bad as they seem. When the situation is dire comfort yourself with the fact that at least you don't have toothache.

*Watch 'Mamma Mia' once a week when events feel that they are getting on top of you. Life really can be as good as an Abba song. It won't make the monsters go away and the numbing effect of Meryl Streep in dungarees doing the splits won't pay your bills but you'll be able to appreciate the merits of the real Abba after this abbaration.

*Invest or 'share' the Cut Copy album 'In Ghost Colours'. It will bring joy to your and other people's lives.

* This year, why not, instead of giving up your vices, increase them. Even if you are 72.

*Continue to loathe George Lamb. It's your natural duty.

*Save money in the new year by robbing pensioners and other vulnerable people. Obviously you will find this easier and morally justified, and will get away with it if you are an energy company or an investment banker.

*Continue to despise Andy Burnham.

*Spend 12 months listening to nothing but rare b-sides and obscure 12" singles from the year of our lord 1989.

*Continue to hate James Purnell and his disgraceful overbite!

*Don't be bitter, be defensive. In 2009 be defiant!

*Try hard not to judge your own perceived success or lack of, based upon other people's social networking updates. Life is not a party. There is no triumphant soundtrack, no cool moments where you are portrayed by an actor with a stylish haircut. There is no reprieve or reward for its hero/ego. You are entitled to nothing. Grasp those moments of happiness. They are your special features. They belong to you and you alone and are not up for sale or scrutiny.

*Continue to find Melanie Philips so reactionary, boring, dull, predictable and slightly, only very slightly a bit of an object to imagine what her legs might have looked like in a short skirt in 1980. She would appreciate this no end.

*Complete that novel set in Holland that you have been working on since 1994.

*Continue to promise to yourself and to your friends that you really must meet up with them for a beer, maybe in the half-term, no Easter! No Christmas! Oh, perhaps in three years! No, make it seven. Why not compromise and not make any promises? After all you only live about 5-10 miles from each other. Why should you phone them? Bugger it, wait till you die first. At least you won't have to be arsed going to their funeral and cursing yourself that you should have taken the time to meet up more often than three times in a lifetime.

*Break your resolutions if by any chance you've actually started them.

*Continue to let festering bitterness consume you till eventually one day you've forgotten who you used to be.

*Make a new friend. A real one. Don't collect virtual one's like Pokemon.

*Try and get away for Britain at least twice a year, even if you have to steal your mother's pension book to fund the trip. You won't be surprised how good the physical and psychological distance makes you feel.

*Popularity is overrated. You'll get more results and respect from actually being competent at what you do, in the age of incompetence and cutting corners. Whether it be writing a three minute pop song or masturbating a cyclist down in a park, excel and do it competently.

*Look after your teeth. Then you won't be mistook for a drug addict or a prostitute. You'll go down better in interviews.

*Continue to find Ed Balls a massacre of contradictions.

*Learn a new language every year. This year I'm having a go at Russian and Mandarin.

*Spend one hour every day experiencing/doing something you've never done/ felt before. It can be as pleasurable or as unpleasant as you would like it to be...make sure it's not illegal though and isn't harmful to others. And it shouldn't require a risk assessment.

*Don't watch TV for a year. Go to the cinema and theatre instead. Oh and there's libraries my beautiful proles.

You know, wouldn't it be comforting to know that somewhere out there, if someone, some force or entity, supernatural or otherwise was controlling things and keeping watch, and keeping everyone from harm it would in fact be Oliver Postgate? This was certainly the case in the universe of The Clangers, essential night-time viewing these days.

I didn't watch Bagpuss so much although I felt its presence in the corner of the room, snoozing on the family black and white television. It's not only sad to see the passing of a true legend but it's sad when pieces of your past and people from your childhood pass away. Smallfilms will be a little bit smaller for now.

The Peter Principle or Pop! Goes Peter Kay's Career

Following yet another DVD of 'recent' material with its unforgettable jokes and his appearances on Michael Parkinson chat show, 'Best Before' can bring you an exclusive extract from Kay's new routine.

Peter Kay: Alternative comedy? Eh? What's that about? Can't be doing wi it! It's all Japanese to me! Remember that song, 'Turning Japanese'? There was this kid at our school who looked Japanese. Remember them?

No laughter.

Garlic bread! Big light! Mr T, eh? Remember that? Mobile discos? It's all mobile phones now innit? Aren't northerners funny? The things they say in our street. Home bargains, eh? What's all that about? Saint and Greavsie? He couldn't stop laughing at Greavsie could our Saint? Remember 12 " singles! They went on FOREVER! Michael Knight , eh? Remember Kitt? He were right snooty weren't he? Remember the 70s? We used to ask Ice Cream man for any broken cornets! 'Hey! Got any broken cornets?' Brass buttons! Best butter! Aren't old people funny? The things they say! You have to speak up!

The silence is deafening. Forever more.

Smirnov: Having had the misfortune to catch Kay's 'Pop Goes The X Factor...' recently it's clear that as many have said, he is just another one trick pony. Sure many critics have claimed that this show largely failed because, well the original target, was far funnier and desperate. Those who enjoyed the show have claimed that it's a bit of fun, and the malcontents just didn't 'get it'. Ah, that old phrase. 'didn't get it.' What's to 'get'? Yes we are aware that it resembled a satire, yes we are plainly simplistically aware of its perceived 'target.'. We know, although it's five years out of date it is a worthy target. But why is it not funny? Why is it not more harsh? I'm sick of toothsome soft comedy. And if the single release from the show 'The Winner's Song' is not supposed to be lapped up by squealing Kaylites, why are they buying it? Is this all part of the satire. 'We hate the X-Factor but what the hell...might as well get the single and DVD?' Don't those fuckers 'get it'!?

As you can guess I've never been a fan of this sacred cow, although I can acknowledge when my arm's been twisted, that Phoenix Nights does have it's moments. To me that's where Kay could work. He can clearly play comic characters to some average and competent extent when the material is well written, 'Max and Paddy' aside. But he'll never be Peter Sellers. You have to wonder if there is anything new, progressive and original in there. Especially his stand up stuff. What's left after all the observational stuff about the 80s, old adverts, music, big lights and garlic bread? Like the X-Factor which is very much a parody of itself, will the same fate await Kay? Will there be an endless season of Peter Kay stand-up at the Bolton Albert Halls, a one man tribute to himself, a kind of low level Elvis in Vegas where night after night Kay just recounts his weary gags night week after week, until someone does us all a favour and knocks down the Bolton Albert Halls and the council it's attached to, just to give us some peace? I'm already tired of Kay trying to create historic chat show moments by being prickish on Parky. I can't bear to think that there'll be more. I can't bear it. But that's not all. You too can re-experience his wit time and time again with the announcement of yet ANOTHER DVD Christmas release of 'Special K', a compilation of old material, Parky appearances and the naff Geraldine McQueen skit, accompanied by his shit eating gurn. It's good to be the Kay.

Electric Dreams Part 5: Phil Oakey goes shopping!

Hi-ya!

I love shopping, me. Always loved it, ever since my first visit to Wigan Centre Arcade in 78. I remember marvelling at the then futuristic escalators ferrying people to and from the delights of D/E/R and the Gas showrooms. The lights and glass. It was like I was inside 'Logans Run' or something. You know, some people have problems with shopping malls, especially these days but I think they're fascinating places. They still bewitch me today. They attract all the dregs, the alienated, the deluded, the fashionatas, the wannabe's, the lost and loose...it's basically a patchwork of post 20th century society. (Christ I sound like I've been at the Yorkshire booze again!) In fact me and the girls wanted to record the lost Abba song, 'I am the city' in 93. We never did though. Couldn't be arsed.

When I was growing up there was nowt around. Most pubs were full of old blokes drinking pints o' mild and the town centre was full of butcher's, fishmongers and rolling fruit and veg stalls. Older generations often moan when a big supermarket is built over a stadium or a field but they're the first one's through the door when it opens. When the shopping centre in Leeds was modernised sometime in the late 70s, early 80s it was as if someone had dropped a piece of New York into the place. It was like going from three channels on TV to about a thousand! It would no longer be like 1962 everyday! Now when I go into Leeds every fortnight to get me mix CD's, a few science fiction DVD's and a couple of mags I like it. It's like I'm still going out with me pocket money and buying the things I've earned the right to buy. I do miss the old 12" singles it has to be said but what can yer do? The last DVD's I bought were 'The Ghost Whisperer', 'Supernatural', the last season of 'Doctor Who' and season one of 'Ashes To Ashes'. I lap 'em all up, me! Magwise I buy 'Dreamwatch' and 'Word' magazine.

As for Crimbo shopping, I'm not so keen wi' it. All those people panic buying bread and milk just for one soddin' day. Doesn't make sense to me. It sickens me actually. All the crap that goes to waste because a few piss pots with eyes bigger than their bellys, wi wallets more packed than their heads, don't give a fuck. It isn't fucking 'Threads' you know. Even when there's more than a few times when you pray it was. You practically will the apocoplypse.

This will be my last entry till 2009. I've got a tour and a new album to concentrate on for now. I'd like to thank Smirnov Kool for offering me a place to vent, give advice and to talk about stuff and to Richard Hawley for giving 'Louise' a new lease of life with Tony Christie. You should buy his album, 'Made in Sheffield' It's boss. Lastly thank you to all the visistors of this blog for making me feel right welcome. As Arnie said, 'I'll be back...believe it baby...' or something like that.

We'll always be together.
x

Phil