The Bookseller to the Stars Vs. Rachel Johnson

Our very own Senior Leafy Suburb Correspondent, Rachel Johnson has just had her second instalment of the Hell series, Shire Hell published. She joins us today in a jaunty hat and smackable jodhpurs from the end of a Notting Hill communal garden, not to dissimilar than the one her first book, Notting Hell, was based.

Synopsis:

Mimi and Ralph have left social climbing, pushy parenting and their marital problems behind them in London, and moved west to the bucolic green depths of the country. Or so they thought. Yes, there's mud and masses of fresh air, plenty of handsome hayseeds and there's Rose, Mimi's new best friend and Dorset's answer to Martha Stewart. But what should be Shire Heaven is, it turns out, just as tricky to navigate as Notting Hell. There's low-level conflict between the racehorses in vintage/Diesel/Ralph Lauren and the brood mares in Barbour/Boden, there's guerrilla warfare between the landowners and eco-warriers and naked hostility between Old Money, New Money and No Money.

Yes, in Honeybourne, if you don't have:

a landscaped garden within 1000 acres (minimum) of prime land
a helipad for your trophy guests;
an organic farm shop selling 16 sorts of home-made sausages;
four pony-mad polo-playing children; a literary festival in your mini-stately;
and, a bottom that looks smackable in jodhpurs, then, well...you're Mimi basically.

And that's just the start of her problems. Mimi also has a secret. But can she keep it?

BTTS: Rachel, tell us about your writing influences and what new books have floated your boat recently?

RJ: Enid Blyton, Richard Crompton, PG Wodehouse, Agatha Christie, Nancy Mitford and Molesworth II. What's floated my boat? The Suspicions of Mr Whicher, Kate Summerscale's analysis of the ur-detective story that inspired Conan Doyle... Frances Osborne's The Bolter....and Right Ho, Jeeves.

BTTS: In many ways, the attitudes and amusements of people are similar in Town and Country, are they not?

RJ: In a way...it's just a different set of activities against which people judge each other and are judged: instead of your Provencal kitchen or minimalist garden, it's your ha ha or your stables or whether your child's in the polo team...there's less shopping in the country, given the often limited range of shops (pet shops to Spars to Horse supplies) and probably more Chopin...

BTTS: Does the act of handing down properties to male heirs and the consequent concern about producing such (a la some unfortunate predicament in a Jane Austen novel) still really cause a problem for some families and occasions of inheritance? Is this a factor/concern in your home?

RJ: Are you kidding? Have you seen my humble home? Primogeniture is not remotely a concern of mine. However as my father had six children and a farm, splitting anything six ways doesn't work, so I can see the logic of it (even though I am a second-born daughter).

When a family's existence is defined by their ability to keep a large house intact, and in the hands of the scions of the blood, then of course the whole business of handing down property, of IHT, and so on becomes of paramount importance. You can only feel sorry for people who have the burden of inheriting and maintaining a large, expensive house with acres of roof to mend, as their main purpose in life.

BTTS: I have seen your home and wonderful it is. It baffles me why having a certain number of children is such a badge of authority, a desperate goal to make or a sign of achievement, especially when a lot of people aren't so fortunate to be able to have them. Do you come across this attitude in mothers a lot?

RJ: A bit...it's a badge of honour and super to have loads of children and excuses some mothers from doing paid work of course too...also having four or more is a very quick way of telling people that you have a lot of house and a lot of help...

BTTS: There's a lot of shagging in this book and in turn, illicit behaviour. Sex outside of marriage is quite a big topic and one focus is a certain sense of acceptance within the upper classes (or old money families) that is just the done thing sometimes. Is it a fear of divorce and the rejection from society that would occur? Working class families tend to not tolerate this at all and actually have a real fear and paranoia of partners committing adultery.

RJ: Do they? I think what you're getting at is the whole "heir and a spare" business. Once duty is done, and the succession secured, it was the Edwardian way simply to take one's pleasures as they came, and anyway, public censure was not reserved for adultery, but divorce. Actually, Mark, there's not that much shagging in the book, though I am happy for readers to hand over their £6.99 in the hope that there might be. There's just as much cheese making.

BTTS: You deal with a lot of the political subjects of the day within this book and have used the power of dialogue to argue both sides. Where do you stand on the rights of the countryside? You bring up both points really well but it begs us to wonder what the solution to them is sometimes. Your thoughts.

RJ: I believe in the rights of the country - ancient, numinous, bred-in-the-bone rights of old England that must remain unencumbered by ignorant, sad, townie prejudices about husbandry, hunting, and hounds. Farmers and hunts preserve our landscapes, thicken ties, and keep the shires alive on almost no funds at all. We should sink to our knees and thank them, not try to stop them from doing what they know best.

BTTS: What's next for Mimi and Clare? Will there be more Hell instalments?

RJ: Not unless I dash off Hell's Belles (about a pre-Big Bang Notting Hell where houses were subdivided into flats, Joe Strummer stalked the Grove, and pubs were full of drunken Irishmen hitting each other)

Thanks Rachel!

Shire Hell is published by Penguin and is in all good bookshops now.

Book of Books

In yesterday's Observer, there was one of their free little book guide things and this time it was The Observer Book of Books, which included (amongst other things) a simple guide to the classics, so literary ignoramuses and daily chancers like me can actually talk about books like we had read them instead of looking blithely at the choices of customers with our eyes glazing over.

Anyway, the first bit of it is called The A-Z of Books and under the letter B, was thus:

"Bestseller An American term coined in the 1880s to describe a book (or author) with the largest sales of a year or season."

I had to laugh. I do wonder at what point in this country that we fell behind on this, and just used it against any highly marketed and over-hyped dross that hasn't best sold anywhere, let alone a year or a season...

Speaking for Everyone Else

The very idea that Cherie Blair has called her book "Speaking for Myself" amuses me no end because from the extracts I have read so far, she seems to speak for plenty of other people too. Perhaps a more suitable title would have been "Running my Mouth" or something similar. For those of you expecting this book in the autumn, publisher Little, Brown have released it early to coincide with nothing but the hard time Gordon Brown is having.

Really, it's like the literary equivalent of watching the bully trip up the wimpy kid and running over to join in with the kicking.

...and what was with that revelation about the top deck of the Number 74 bus?

Ewwww, I can never get on that route again. I know how often they are cleaned.

Incidentally, nobody seems to be buying this book, just flicking through it with looks of derision on their faces. I would advise the libraries to stock up.

I know a friendly, little bookshop with plenty of them....

"Go Wild in the Country" Bow Wow Wow

Unbearable Lightness of Not Being Ugenia Lavender

So, I passed comment the other day on the latest bestselling children’s author this fine country of literary tradition has produced, Miss Geri Halliwell, ‘creator’ of the Ugenia Lavender series. To be honest, I may have even suggested that she hadn’t written her books, which in retrospect, I thought may have been …a little harsh.

The Geri quote protesting thine innocence was in The Independent and in reply to them pointing out:

‘There’s a tiny note on the back flyleaf of Halliwell's offering "Thanks to Jonny Zucker"

The paper then reminds us all, who are not children’s book buyers and parents who blindly shop for the one and only thing their child is demanding that day (ie not Jonny Zucker) so would never come across the books that in fact, the very ahem, only person she thanks in the book is a children's author. He has a website and books and everything.

In fact, he has written a similar range of books called the Venus Spring Series. Here’s Book Two… look familiar to you?

(If it doesn't look familiar, scroll back up, you fucks...)

Geri says: "There is a prejudice against celebrity authors, but if you read my stories you'll know they're not ghost-written – only I could be that bonkers!"

But at the PR firm employed by her publisher, nobody seemed clear about Jonny Zucker. Later, somebody researched him and replied: "He was one of the first people she spoke to and he gave her some great advice and encouragement. That's all I've got."'

Well, it turns out that’s not exactly true.

I received an email this week, not from a disgruntled Friday Project author wondering what is going to happen to the crappy humour book of theirs they published and (surprisingly to them, but not to me) HarperCollins won’t take on, but from a publishing insider who saw my comment on Mme Halliwell. First this person teased me with an almost virtual Holy Moly-esque, nipple tweaking,

“A certain ex-tongue burning female had a little 'help' with her book recently from an author I know.”

Of course, I got instantly erect and demanded to know more. Turns out she too was talking about Zucker. I wanted to know exactly what extent that Jonny was involved in Geri's children's series,

“He worked on the earlier books, then she tried to say that he didn't contribute and then her editor took over. That's basically the crux of it. She's just greedy!”

I wondered what evidence this person had. They just assured me that she knew that Zucker was in fact, not (as they say) giving her 'great advice and encouragement' but receiving ROYALTIES.

I know one thing for sure. Publishers don't like parting with their directors hard earned cash for nothing and they definatey don't dish it out royalties for 'advice and encouragement' either. If they did, I would be a very rich man. I wouldn't be sat here talking to you either, I'd be moored off the coast of Rio de Janiero, languishing on the deck of my yacht with two bikini models gnashing my bone.

I further wanted to know how this panned out for them and they said to me that they basically fell out over it and he want to forget the whole thing. I would have asked Jonny about this (the tyke that I am) but his website has no contact email.

Many others accuse me of cynicism, and that may be so. But, my instincts are normally right. Because I know by now how this clever little wheel turns.

Good writing is being ignored in favour of Sales and Marketability and as I have said since the very day this blog started, books should not be treated like other things in retail like tins of beans. Whether they are discounted to the point where they are paying us to buy their products or being “passed off”, as trading standards law clearly states, as something they are not, it shouldn’t be allowed and the idea of Geri accusing people of being prejudiced against celebrity authors is ludicrous.

You write your own books and you do it well and we/I won’t criticise. It's that fucking simple.

Case in point, Sophie Dahl. Could have been a writer straight away but did the one thing that could potentially fuck that up, becoming a supermodel, ergo vacuous celebrity in the tabloids. When she did get around to writing, children’s books first and more recently an excellent modernist fairy tale for adults called, ‘Playing with the Grown Ups’, she wasn’t lambasted, she was critically acclaimed with praise and respect, even after the initial career choice.

Why?

Because she wrote her own fucking books.

Strap the rich, ginger tantrum to a chair, I say and force a pen and paper in front of her, trained in the sights of an S019 sniper and let her fulfil the terms and conditions of her contract, which according to the LICENCE OF COPYRIGHT LAW on the inside of the book, states her as the sole author.

Geri Halliwell has not been the sole author of these books. She has had lots of help and now she is worried (and rightly so) about being pigeonholed with the likes of Jordan and Coleen (who registered for her wedding under the occupation of ‘journalist’ this week, in relation to her tabloid magazine column it is common knowledge that she doesn’t write and just chooses the topics for) as ghost-written author. Not that it bothered her when she released her two ‘autobiographies’.

Well, I say shame on you. Both publishing house and author. Saying that ‘everyone else does it, is not an excuse. Marketing budgets are being used on bad quality writing, endorsed by people famous for sleeping with footballers, MP’s and members of the royal family over talented, struggling authors who are left to plug their own books because their publicity girls are too busy calling The Bookseller to the Stars four or five times a day, trying to flog me more of the books by the person who nearly won Big Brother or nearly became mayor or one of the members of the national football team, who has just crashed out early in the World Cup, take heed and do not court the bastions of self publicity.

Mother. Former UN Ambassador and role model for thousands of children currently running into stores all over the country in search of your product.

Shame on you.

Dolls and Gnomes

My buddies The Dresden Dolls have a new album coming out on Monday. Well, I saw new album, but it’s an outtakes/b-sides sorta thing. If it’s any indication of the last album sessions, it’s definitely worth getting. They’ve even done us a video for one of the tracks, called “Night Reconnaissance”

Bookselling to the Stars: An Update

I've been really lazy with this feature and loads of really oddly diverse people have been in the last few days, and the oddest person that I have ever come across came in yesterday (yes, even more than the American wrestler, the Hollywood director and one of The Ramones) and it has prompted me to do an update.

The musician Patrick Wolf has been in a couple of times. I think his agent or his label are close by. It's not really my cup of tea at all. The music, but he's a really nice guy and always has time to chat to the likes of me. I mean, you know me by now, don't you? The likes of The Magic Position isn't going to float my boat.

But, I have a lot of time for the guy, much to my friend Alex's dismay, who has to spit on the floor everytime I tell my Patrick Wolf story and I hope that I come across something that I like in the future. Anyway, he comes in to just buy the one book for his friends, Edith Piaf's autobiography... which amuses me because our stock figure went up from 1 on the replenishment to 2, because he buys so many.

After meeting one of my comedy heroes (Griff Rhys Jones) and more or less mortally offending him recently, when I asked whether he actually did get to the top of Ben Nevis, his comedy partner of days gone by, Mel Smith came into the store. I grew up on A Bit of Fry and Laurie and Alas Smith and Jones. Those sketches of just Mel and Griff chatting in front of one anotherare just genius and that sort of conversational humour has never been replicated to that quality. Mel bought some James Ellroy, Zamoyski's Warsaw book and No Country for Old Men.


Lenny Henry is something of a regular. Along with the aforementioned greats, Lenny has always been dear to my heart. I watched his show in the 80's. I loved Delbert Wilkins and Theopolis P. Wildebeast and I told him on his most recent visit that they should release the great Christmas comedy drama, Bernard and the Genie with Alan Cumming on DVD (check it out, it's only just gone on YouTube. I just spent a wonderful hour re-visiting it, despite being the start of the summer) and Lenny agreed with me and said that recently that he had to get one a copy from some guy in Germany on Ebay, because he didn't have it.

He always buys lots of books, relatively quiet and undemanding. The perfect customer really. Lenny ent away with some Mike Gayle and I recommended him 'Meet Me Under the Westway' by Stephen Thompson, which I think would make a great film with Lenny as the lead. I told him so too. Which brings us to the aforementioned oddest person to visit, and whether he is eally that odd.

I don't know what to think about Jonathan King. He seemed nice and polite enough but there was an eeire and sinister atmosphere in the shop when he came in looking for Ferdinand Mount's 'Cold Cream', which is coincidentally THE most sinister title of the year. The success and influence this man has had in the music indusry (which has tried to distance themselves from him of late) is more than evident.

He ran Decca records in the 60's and 70's, produced The Rocky Horror Picture Show, not mention starting The Brit Awards and winning BPI Man of the Year. I remember watching and being fascinated in the 80's with his Entertainment USA show. It was on BBC2 and was one of the main areas that fuelled my fascination with America.

But as most of you know, King went to prison for seven years earlier this decade (of which he served half) for pleading guilty to having sex with those that were under the age of consent. We're talking 14-16yr olds here, not children. They used to attend discos where he used to DJ.

He was not tried for the initial offences (which were mainly copycats of the original man to come forward who accused King of molesting him 30 years ago, a case that had no real proof) because many of the police testimonies were criticised for witnesses being guided and a little dubious, but he did admit (as in his first interview upon release, much to his lawyer's delight) that he did knowingly break the law, with regards to the age of consent around that time.

So basically, he was honest about his past and was locked up for it. Ouch.

Because of the time he spent away, he has now ben villified by the public, from the upstanding upper classes that he lives around to rotten punk bands from Manchester (he fucked their ring too, apparently) and he has recently made his feelings and case more known with his own documentary, filled with animated pop songs and himself playing all 21 characters, entitled 'Vile Pervert: The Musical".... Rocky Horror, it's not.

The opening tune, also called "Vile Pervert" is quite catchy though.

Friendships in London never last, do they?

I don't know whether it is the vast sprawl of the city or what but I find that sometimes that I should extricate myself from those non-existant friendships that you get into and people cannot be bothered to put in the effort. I love my friends and I miss them when the decide not to be around for long periods of time I don't like giving up on people, but then at some point you have to let people go, don't you?

Everyone goes away in the end...

Burma

I guess disctatorships dont work that well, after all?

Ladies and Gentlemen, Your American Idols..

So normally on a night, I type away and offend publishers and people who pretend to be publishers, fail and are bailed out by other publishers and when the likes of Project Runway and Top Model come on screen at home, I want to pluck out each of my eyelashes, but tonight there was a very special edition of American Idol.

Now normally I wouldn't want to comment on the likes of this, but (instead of giving them the Neil Diamond or Mariah Carey back catalogue) this week the final four were given the access to the songs of the artists that have been inducted into the Rock N' Roll Hall of Fame and of course, my ears pricked up. So, I thought I would watch and blog live... something I have only done one other time, I think....

Would the artists be creative or just take the safe option?

Here we go...

David Cook singing "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran
Randy was right. It was okay. Paula (as usual) is drunk and wants to fuck the cute guy onstage. It was nothing special. It was basically the arrangement that Hole did in the mid 90's. When I hard he was doing this, I was hoping that he wouldn't change it. But he did and too much. He really needs to a bit more versatile and not turn everything into a rock song very week.

Syesha singing "Proud Mary" by Tina Turner
Great song, but an obvious one. She looks great but should Tina Turner or this girl be in the Rock N' Roll Hall of Fame? Nope.

Jason Castro sings "I Shot the Sheriff" by Bob Marley
This kid has dreadlocks. Every other week, he has had them tied up. This week, he's been let loose to pander to his song choice. Yak. Somebody gave him some bad advice, he is no Marley.

The other pussy David singing "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King
Wimp. He's gonna win. He's not creative. He's just pandering to the masses. It's sickening. It's like they have already fixed it.

David Cook sings "Baba O'Riley" by The Who
Vocally a bit like the Pearl Jam version and far too short for that song. It's too much of a builder. Still better than the last one.

Syeeeesshhhaaa sings "A Change has Gotta Come" by Sam Cooke
Second black RNB singer in a row for her. She could have been a bit more diverse, I think. Looks and sounds great though. Randy loves the original to much it seems. Can someone get Paula a new drink?

Dreadlock Marley Wannabe sings "Mr. Tambourine Man" by Bob Dylan
He fucked up the lyrics. Big time. 'Nuff Said... Don't play a song for me. Karen thinks he has got this far by looking like John Travolta. I have to point out that this kid has dreadlocks and doesn't have an alien called 'Xenu' following him around. He's out the dor.

Pussy David sings "Love MeTender"
Very smart. Very safe. Not creative again. Could you be more obvious and pander to the voters though? I don't think so.


Conclusion
I feel violated at the thought of how creative and the songs and artists that they had at their fingertips.

Bin

I bought the Shadow Chancellor of the Exchequer a new bin for his kitchen yesterday.

Long story.

'The Wisdom of Whores' book launch

I tend not to go to book launches much anymore. That is unless, I have not just read the book but I have met and really like the author too. Otherwise, it's just ligging, isn't it?

So, yeh... I don't go to many. Plus, as I have pissed most of the major publisher by ripping into their ghostwritten memoirs, the invites have pretty much dried up anyway. Can't blame them. Not that you miss much anyway. Usually, I am introduced to someone from the publisher who pretends to listen to me, whilst trying to attract the attention of someone over my shoulder.

I hate that.

Anyway, Elizabeth is an exception. I think she's swell and I loved her book. She took a very difficult subject and lots of facts and figures and made it accessible to the likes of me, who are a bit thick. The book is in the shops. Go on, treat yourself to one.

Elizabeth Pisani

The Environment Section: An Update

Man, am I glad the rain has stopped.

Last week was an absolute washout of biblical proportions in the capital. I can imagine a lot of people in Head Office were taking nervous trips to the toilet, in anticipation of sales figures for the week. On Friday, there was a huge midday smashing of lightning over The Bookseller to the Stars and the surrounding area. Personally, I think it marked the publication of the West End Final of The Evening Standard, which prophetically (and in almost in US Election/Florida/Fox News style) announced that Boris Johnson was the new mayor of London, a good six hours before the controversial old etonian heard himself for sure.

Incidentally, The Evening Standard celebrated in glee today at their Delia Smith, pre-packaged wisdom and became THE DAILY BORIS, dedicating an entire 13 pages of today's edition to the blonde bastard. I voted Green, incidentally and Boris second.

Fuck Ken...

Anyway, I'm glad the rain has stopped because I was indeed worried about the environment. Everytime it rains like this, all thoughts of Al Gore, the canvas bags and the Live 8 concerts go out the window as miserable, rain-drenched, out of work trust funders appear at the till....frowning... desperately trying to save their shopping from the local Whole Foods from cascading from their sodden paper bags.

I find it eternally amusing though, that the idea of climate change completely dissipates when the heavens open and people (who have spent NO MONEY in the shop) demand that their freshly grown organic Okra, speckled Goose eggs and cinnamon live yoghurts are duly tripple bagged and wrapped in the pelt of a baby chinchilla, free of charge.

Now, I'm Horny....

....I can read this again:

Peaches, Oh Peaches!

Ahhhhhhh, does anyone have a cigarette?

Mountain Dew with a Difference

Oh no, we have broken down by the side of a mountain?

We're stranded.

What will we do to pass the time away?

Hmmm, we could have sex while hanging off the edge of a cliff?

Arrrrrrgh

I got a proof from Harper recently. This pirate book called 'Flint and Silver' by John Drake. A predictable romp with lots of 'Arrrgh's' and 'Me Jim, Lads' and 'Yo ho ho's', it looks a lot of fun but y'know, it's not Tolstoy or anything...

Anyway, it's black.... has a skull and crossbones on the front.... and on the back they describe it as a 'prequel to Treasure Island'...

Following so far?

Great... Now, you'd think that the in-house Marketing would stop there, right?

Oh, no no no... They continue to tell us on the back that the book is 'Pirates of the Caribbean meets Flashman', just in case y'know.... we live in a fucking bubble....

The Vines Vs. Pink

Missed Last Minute Sales Surge

I’m stood flicking through a sampler for the new Tim Winton book. A customer appears and asks my colleague for a couple of titles. The book sounds familiar to me. My colleague in forms her that this particular book is no longer available.

“But it only came out at the end of last year…” she says.

“What was the other title?” my colleague asks her.

“Errr… ‘A Year in the Life of The Man Who Fell Asleep’?”

My attention pricks up as my colleague checks the second title for her.

“Nope, I’m afraid that is no longer available to?” he apologises.

“Why?” she demands. My colleague squirms where he is stood and looks around for help. I toss the sampler to one side. I ask him what that first one was again.

“‘It is Just You- Everything’s Not Shit’” he tells me. I will be the judge of that, I think to myself.

“Are both of those books ‘The Friday Project’?” I ask him.

“Yeah, they are.”

“What’s The Friday Project?” she asks.

“Was.” I say to her.

“Was?”

“Yes, this publisher has gone into liquidation, I’m afraid so we can’t order anything else by them.”

“Liquidation?” she asks.

“Yes.” I clarify. “It’s a funny story actually, if you want to hear it. I’d take a seat though.”

Oh, Really...

Ex-Anorexic Spice Girl-turned-children's-author, Geri Halliwell today:

"If you read my stories you'll know they're not ghost-written. Only I could be that bonkers."

Hmmmm, can't argue with that, can I?

Bet she's fucking lying though...

Book Meme Boredom Part One

Sara tagged me in another meme, but I have to work on it. But in the meantime, there’s another one on her post.

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.

Ok, when I saw this… I have to admit, I had no books near me because I am a tidy fuck and they are all in the hallway on book shelves with my bag, that has the current book I am reading with it (The 'Slash' autobiography), so I just chose one at random. This being the great ‘Bush Falls’ by Jonathan Tropper (which I think was called ‘The Book of Joe’ or ‘The Story of Joe’ in America).

Actually, fuck…. That’s the end of the Chapter in that book and only has three sentences on the page.

Ok… wait a minute…

Right, Jay Mac’s ‘Brightness Falls’ (Ooooo, look at me. The genre whore!) :

“Corrinne didn’t like her any better with her clothes.”

Tsk, tsk

“This place is getting a little too fashionable for me,” Corrinne observed later that night, after they’d been seated next to a very loud Neo-Expressionist painter and his entourage. But Russell failed to acknowledge her complaint. Proximity to the glamorous, it seemed to Corrinne, confirmed in Russell some sense of his own entitlement.”

Ahhh, now I wish I could write like that. And I just did!

Ok, I’m not tagging anyone, because I’m a lazy cunt. You can comment here if you want to play, but let me know you’ve done it too on your own blog also (see previous sentence).

Fat Beach

Just came across this on YouTube. It brings back a lot of drunken memories from that day...



Fatboy Slim Brighton Beach

Twenty Years of Cock

One of my favourite bands are making a new album, San Francisco Queercore legends, Pansy Division. They have their own YouTube page and have even made themselves a little documentary, which had two sold out screening at the recent Lesbian and Gay Film Festival here in London. On their channel, they have some footage of them recording their new album, which includes this fantastic ditty…



“20 Years of Cock” by Pansy Division

Ship of Doom

Nice to see China (what with the furore growing around their humanitarian record on the run up to hosting the Olympics) that they do are doing their very best to calm the world's opinion of them as an uncaring, cruel race by sending a cargo ship full of weapons to Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe. They really need better PR advice...

My Friend Lizzie...

...writes the funniest blog ever. I'm not kidding, she's fucking hilarious. She's a student in Cambridge. Recently, she has started to work in a cinema there and her customer anecdotes just give me a belly laugh. So much better than the tripe you read here.

Anyways gays, check it out. This stuff should be in a book. Seriously.

Overdressed and Underpaid

The Breeders KOKO 16th April 2008

Set List: 'Tipp City'/'Huffer'/'Bang On'/'Shocker in Gloomtown'/'Divine Hammer'/'Night Of Joy'/'No Aloha'/'Pacer'/'We're Gonna Rise'/'Son Of Three'/'Walk It Off'/'New Year'/'Cannonball'/'Happiness Is A Warm Gun'/'Iris'/'I Just Wanna Get Along'/'Saints'/'Safari'/Encores: 'Overglazed'/'Here No More'/'Fortunately Gone'/'German Studies'

Highlights for me was hearing the band's Guided by Voices cover, 'Shocker in Gloomtown' which didn't get an airing at their two other gigs I have seen. The surprise was hearing 'New Year', the opening track from 'Last Splash', which is rarely played. What a magnificent night. KOKO is a beautiful venue, very sumptuous. A lot of money has been pumped into the place (since I last came in '99 to see The Llama Farmers when it was The Camden Palace) and you can tell they are trying to recoup some of the money they spent on the place. It was three pounds seventy for a can (A CAN) of Fosters. The northerner in me just refused to have a drink. I'm becoming like my parents. There is no venue I wouldn't go and see these guys though. I love them.

Vids
“Huffer” KOKO
“German Studies” KOKO

I'm So Excited and I Just Can't Hide it...

In anticipation of going to see MY FAVOURITE BAND IN THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD EVER tonight, here's a little piece of self indulgence on my part....