i know - it's not music related in anyway but this made me snort my rice krispies right across the breakfast table..

thought others might enjoy...

on his fine lemmy piece and interview... what a star the man is - just how rock'n'roll can one man be and NOT be keef...?

almost lost my breakfast at the image of him fighting off barbra steisand for the no.1 album spot ... 'no way, babs' in that granite growl 'this one's mine, darlin''

also particularly liked the 'changing the duvet cover' bit - love the thought of rock legends doing incredibly mundane tasks - prince doing the washing up... jimmy page changing the cat litter.. elton john mending that troublesome latch on the garden gate etc

who really wants to go and see a band play in a huge stadium or arena? well thousands of people i guess otherwise these things wouldn't be happeningo, would they?

i got into a natter with a few people over the REM arena thing and was relaying my story of how horrible a time i had at the police gig in twickenham last year...

i just couldn't relate to it on any level and vowed that i'd never set foot in another enormodome again as the whole thing left me feeling, in the words of tommy saxondale 'a little bit empty inside.'

have we forgotten what a rock'n'roll show is meant to be - a personal experience, a sense of involvement with the band, a shared spiritual 'happening' - how big can a gig be before it loses that or am i alone here amongst 65,000 people who all seem to be having a great time?

Congratulations to Dorian Lynsky for his review of Primal Scream's new album, Beautiful Future. Particularly unfond of Mr Gillespie as think he is a talent-free plagiarist who can't sing for the proverbial Callard and Bowser.

I particularly liked the phrase '(they)...sound exactly like a shambling corpse that doesn't realise it's dead' (as clearly did the sub who decided to feature it in BIG TYPE).

It put me in mind of other favourite denouncements such as Nicky Wire's claim that Slowdive were 'worse than Hitler'...

Sad I know but I do love a good bad review - when I used to be a Q reader - many many moons ago now - I would always scan for the 1 star ones first - it's the musical equivalent of rubber-necking, I suppose.

Any other favourite/memorable roastings people can recall?

Just been listening to the wonderful 'Smile' album by The Beach Boys. The version I have is a bootleg of rough mixes, allegedly hastily run off by guerilla engineers who raided the vaults at Capitol in the 70's.

It's a hugely ramshackle affair with many songs only half completed and bits of vocals half sung or (in the case of 'Cabinessence') simply not there at all. But it's just such an incredibly weird and lovely record despite (or maybe because of) that.

When I heard the new recording of 'Brian Wilson's Smile' released a few years ago with all the tunes and arrangements faithfully reproduced by the Wondermints, along with Brian himself, it left me a bit cold, still great songs but all a little too tidy and missing something in translation.

It set me wondering whether rough or demo versions always contain the essence of the songs in their purest forms -some special quality that's impossible to recapture. In the case of 'Smile' all the parts apart from Brian's piano. were played by session musos of the time anyway - as was the case with pet sounds - so it can't really be argued that the band had anything to do with it, either way.

There must be other examples of this?

Little Red Courgette...

any more fresh (or indeed frozen) vegetable / pop classic pun-age out there..?

no, i can't think of any either... but this one made me laugh cider through my nose so for that reason alone it's worth sharing..

Much has been written - and I dare say a whole heap more will be - about the collapse of the music industry as we know it. However most of it, naturally enough, seems to centre around the biggies of the business but I've seen precious few articles concerning the effect of the digital revolution on smaller labels.

What chance of artists getting their music heard beyond the environs of myspace and their ilk without advertising budgets and pluggers toiling away on their behalf. Is this going to make the tiny labels tinier still - or is this finally their day?

I say this as I'm about to put out a record on a small label in a few months time and whilst I'm not expecting to be able to fund a new collection of polo ponies it'd be nice to be able to buy the older, ailing ones the occasional sugar lump.

Can a living be made if you haven't already established a large fan base? Maybe I'd better hang onto that paper round just in case...

I feel sure that someone must have already pointed this out but could the disinterest in this year's annual somerset mudathon be due to the massive proliferation of small and infinitely more intimate and interesting festivals that have sprung up over the last 2 or 3 years?

From Ullapool's Loopallu all the way down to Lands End's Folktronic Herbal Happening (i might have made that on up for geographical convenience) there are dozens and dozens of little do's going on all over the place and, from the champers and picnic-blanket brigade to the bender-building, yoghurt knitters, folk are voting with their feet.

Could the punters possibly be tiring of paying sheling out over £150 for the dubious privilege of spending a damp weekend being herded round Mr Eavis's farm with less love and respect than one of his lovely heffers?

I have watched in dismay as Glasters has managed to turn from being a genuinely alternative freakfest - albeit with it's fair share of Keiths and Candice-Maries - to some credit card carrying, blackberry-toting, corporate hospitality horror show in just a little over 20 years.
I know I will rightly be accused of being a TOTAL HIPPY BASTARD but this isn't a festival anymore, it's fucking Centre Parcs. Actually I don't think you have to register in advance with a photo ID to get into Centre Parcs.

I think the whole Jay-Z thing is entirely irrelevant - do people REALLY go just to see the headliner? I'd rather watch him than Kings Of Leon anyway - they're last album sucked compared to the wonderful first 2 they made - but there I go again living in the past....sigh... ah, pass the laudanum, there's a good chap...

'Return to form' they said, 'recaptures their old magic' they said...'blah blah former glories...' So I dutifully parted with my tenner, hurried quickly back to my hovel and prepared to 'Accelerate', the title filled me with gloom - the cover even more so - but i wasn't going to let that stop me...

Sighs followed - deep sighs and then deeper still until finally the admittance of defeat - WHERE HAVE THE FUCKING TUNES GONE!

Maybe it's the bright lights and the prospect of another massively lucrative jog around the dull grey stadia of the western world? Something must be driving this machine on - I suspect ego (and who can blame them) is at the heart of it, closely followed by the fact that Warners really would like some of that $80 million back, please?

REM could be frolicking happily in the soft dewey paddock of semi-retirement and and no-one would begrudge them that - perhaps a nice little retirement castle in a tax haven of their choice, enjoying the odd spot of producing or collaborating with less stellar chums and generally living the quiet, dignified existence they've rightly earned. They have indeed 'done their time'. Peter Buck seems to have almost got the hang of it, doing the indie shuffle with the likes of Robyn Hitchcock and other even more eclectic and under-appreciated types whereas Stipe and Mills... well I think Mike likes to play golf doesn't he?

For years REM were my favourite group - a majesterial command of the americana-soaked pop tune, the jangle and harmony of the Byrds, the art-rock stylings of The Velvet Underground and Patti Smith, the influences were never that well disguised but somehow, like all truly great bands, they transcended them all and created their own beautiful little universe - and that voice, what a voice - hitting an amazingly purple patch around Green and Automatic (Out Of Time is strangely inconsistent) and the momentum created by the 6 wonderful albums that preceeded it provided the inevitable tipping point that allowed Losing My Religion to take them into the Big Leagues. Job done. Then what? A couple of OK records (bitterly disappointing at the time but following Automatic was never going to be easy) Monster - coasting at best, 2 or 3 good songs (Kenneth, Crush With Eyeliner) but no great ones, New Adventures in Hi-Fi - similarly water-treading, again a couple of decent songs (You & Me, Bittersweet Me, Undertow)...and...?

Well, if you're Bill Berry, a near-death experience followed by swift re-appraisal of the important things in life - like being alive - a graceful retreat to the countryside and a doormat-troublingly heavy PRS check every 3 months and a quiet life, smart chap.

If you're the other 3? Up - very dull apart form the wonderful Daysleeper (their last great tune), Reveal - bad to worse, Around The Sun - irredeemably awful drivel. Each accompanied by increasingly desperate and ludicrous press statements that the band were 'back to their best' and, 'not to worry, they know the last one wasn't up to much but THIS one is a good 'un, honest.' Surprising numbers of journalists seemed to be initially duped on Reveal - a couple of spins revealed (sorry) the truth. One time around was enough on Around The Sun and, god knows, what a long and tedious orbit it was too.

And then Accelerate. Somehow Accelerate is even worse. It's the sound of people trying to recapture something that is no longer there. At least with their previous 3 Berry-free efforts they had the good grace to sound like they didn't know what to do and particularly in Peter Buck's case, couldn't be arsed anymore. This record is a desperate thrashing beast that can't swim but takes a good 34 minutes to drown.

So, I just fell for it for the last time - sorry lads, shows over. The fire has well and truly gone out now. Accelerate is crap.Take a bow and please please please stop cos it's making me sad - and worse still, it's spoiling the old good stuff which is really unforgiveable.

Carwash Castenada