Well, that’s Christmas done with and from a personal view it was one that was rather blighted by spiteful colds to me and those in my direct company. Annoyingly, a heavy cold in late December is now as traditional for me as the celebration of the birth of the big man himself.
It didn't stop the fun and games on a wholesale basis however and on Christmas day I cleared my nose and mustered the enthusiasm to drive to North London, a somewhat ...
Sometimes I worry myself irrationally that my grandchildren will live in a world where an evenings entertainment for them consists of eating as much limp salad as they want in a Harvester restaurant as they sip John Smiths extra smooth bitter whilst some music created by the devil sperm of Simon Cowell plays in the background. It is a world that would almost certainly send me for a walk in the forest with a revolver.
Then, just as I am ...
I watched the last five minutes of X Factor last night, the first time I have witnessed this jamboree of old shite since I found myself emotionally disturbed by some deluded ugly kid getting bullied by perennial bell end, Simon Cowell, five years ago or so.
What I saw last night was worse than I could have imagined, there was some sort of Plan B lookalike bellowing out a shit a song in a non-descript manner whilst a selection of hysterical ...
A friend of mine sent me an email earlier today with a couple links from a Radio 4 programme called Mastertapes, interviews with Paul Weller followed by a question and answer session about the final Jam album The Gift, which was released in the Spring of 1982 to mixed reviews from fans more used to a lead and bass guitar and a set of drums accompanied by raw and aggressive anti-establishment vocals. Paul Weller had license to experiment ...
As a follow up to my favourite ever song list that was compiled for my eldest son and anyone else who was interested, I thought what would be far more entertaining would be a WORST ever song list, an eclectic mix of spine tingling, vomit inducing dross that will have you all sprinting for the sick bucket or simply staving in your computer with your right boot before remorsefully handing over five hundred quid to a care in the community teenager ...