On the cover of the subscriber's edition, among the music industry behemoths can be found Steve Strange in his New Romantic pomp. At, ahem, Visage value, despite some 90s involvement in the Ibiza club scene, and hosting celeb parties, his Wiki entry doesn't seem to merit his placement among the Jackos, Fabs, Bonos, even Drakes of this world. Have I underestimated his status as a heavyweight player?

While I enjoy Whitesnake's Here I go Again in its original 1982 form, it does frankly sound like a rough demo compared to the unashamed pop rock classic of the 1987 incarnation.

Similarly, I can't abide early Belle and Sebastian, but a sprinkling of a Trevor Horn production (couldn't eat a whole one, but just enough is magical) worked wonders on Dear Catastrophe Waitress - still an album I listen to today.

Cream's 'Crossroads' better than Robert Johnson's anyone? Ok, too much too soon - work up to it slowly...

Disclaimer: I reserve the right to utterly revise this opinion at any point in the future without prior warning. Your home is at risk etc...

Watching Spain last night include seven Barcelona players, and the none-more-Catalonian Carles Puyol powering home the header that took them into their first ever World Cup Final, a previously unthinkable (at least for me) notion began to take shape. Could a UK football team actually be (gulp) a good idea?

Can’t speak for Wales or Norn Iron, but for Scotland, right now even qualification for a World Cup is, to use football-speak, a big ask. But even if we qualified, realistically we would be looking at an Algerian or Slovakian level of pluckiness before the return flight home. Not exactly a prospect to ‘set the heather alight’. For England, qualification is pretty much a given these days, but quarter finals seem destined to be the glass ceiling for the foreseeable future.

Now I’m not suggesting that if the present England team had an injection from the present celtic fringe they/we would be world-beaters, but arguably that has been the case in the past. I’m beginning to wonder whether the glory of a Puyol type scenario (we can dream!) might actually be preferable to ‘proud’ mediocrity.

This of course is entirely hypothetical and almost certain never to occur. That said, if Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland continue to fail to qualify for major tournaments for many more years, and England do not suddenly make a miraculous breakthrough, perhaps truly radical measures might be contemplated.

Already arguing against myself – I mentioned Algeria and Slovakia above, but of course there’s Greece and Denmark, two small countries who have actually won a major tournament in recent years. Anyway, too late, I’ve put the thought out there and can never erase it ;-)

Feeling some small satisfaction at having scaled the North face of the quite wonderful Trfyan last weekend.

It was my first experience of scrambling - something that I may not have undertaken with quite so much gusto had I realised it is possibly the most dangerous form of climbing.

Anyway, I really enjoyed the experience and am keen to repeat it. Any thoughts on scrambling v climbing or general thoughts on The Great Outdoors welcome...

This issue's Wired (my last issue before my cheapo intro sub ends, and finances won't stretch to a new one) has a fascinating feature on the spat between erstwhile bosom buddies Apple and Adobe*.

This dispute is particularly intriguing as it is between two companies on ostensibly the 'same side', unlike the perceived light v dark Apple v Microsoft battle.

Just wondered what the views of the Massive were on this. Instinctively I feel Jobs talks sense (regardless of his probably more base motives for picking a fight) about the future being based around Cascading Style Sheets and HTML5, and I've found Flash-based websites annoying with their constant demands for software upgrades. That said, I have enormous respect for the creator of Photoshop, Illustrator et al.

*brilliant graphics incidentally, with the upside down Apple and Adobe logos representing devilish and clownish features on their respective CEO's.

The writer of this blog was behind the Wired feature, by the way.

Now the proud owner (well, leaser) of an HTC HD2 smartphone, and very pleased with it too. A quantum leap for me from my previous Nokia 6300.

The drawback compared to its iPhone and Android competitors of course being the comparatively paltry number of apps. But £25/month with unlimited web access seemed a reasonable exchange.

Anyone care to recommend any particularly useful apps, or the best place to find them?

From Something for the Weekend #110:

http://theselvedgeyard.wordpress.com.

What a fantastic photo archive site that is - everything from Robert Evans' pad in the 60's, to New York pre-yuppiefication, to Ralph Lauren's ranch, to Johnny Cash in Folsom Prison '68, to 'vintage roller derby bad girls' to 'fast women in auto racing history'. Oh, and some pics of Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield...

An absolute visual feast.

Was I alone in thinking the press conference tonight by Augusta chairman Billy Payne was somewhat over the top...

Augusta chairman Billy Payne said on the eve of the tournament: "We at Augusta hope and pray that our great champion will begin his new life here on Thursday in a positive, hopeful and constructive manner. He disappointed all of us. Our hero did not live up to his expectations of the role model we saw for our children."

Tiger to be judged on sincerity? I would have thought his performance on the golf course was what he will be judged on...

Arjen Robbens's strike tonight quite literally took my breath away. Just stunning.

After tonight's game and last night's Messi masterclass, laments about football 'not being like it was in the old days' seem utterly ludicrous, irrespective of the issues they raise about debt, loss of identity, whatever.

I'm far from an A.B.U. and I bow to no-one in my admiration of SAF, but I had to marvel at his chutzpah in his post match interview tonight where he talked about 'typical Germans' for crowding round the referee. Like that's never happened closer to home...

DougieJ, and I enjoy watching things like Booze Britain and (tonight) Danny Dyer's 'The Real Football Factories', on no less a channel than Bravo 2. There, I've said it. Feel better now.

Not sure what other point, if any, I'm trying to make, except that such programmes are part of a long tradition of...something. I'm sure the wonderful Laurie Taylor could expand on the topic. I do find, when perusing the sports section in the local Waterstones, that my eye tends to be drawn to the lower shelves, where the 'special stuff' resides. I must admit to finding it fascinating, e.g. 'how did Cardiff City's firm become known as 'the Soul Crew', or at what point did Spurs fans absorb the opposition fans term of abuse 'Yid Army' and turn it into a badge of pride?*

To add to my shame, I found said programme by idly channel flicking during the latter stages of Arsenal v Barcelona, by any stretch of the imagination an aesthetically pleasing and absorbing match.

*David Hepworth's chest will no doubt swell with pride at the revelation in tonight's programme that Spurs have apparently had the nawtiest firm in Bri'ain for the last ten years. Disclaimer - the programme was made some time ago, and they may all be utter pansies (or whatever term the youngsters use these days) now.

(No liability can be accepted for any advice given in this blog post, your home is at risk if you do not....)

Currently playing Steely Dan's Here in the Western World on constant rotation, as one does...

Came across what I think is quite a plausible interpretation of the lyrics (and a different slant to the prevailing Dan drugs 'n hookers theme) at http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/140472/.

"Klaus and The Rooster" may provide a clue, as might 'sausage and beer', although the more obvious interpretation is that it refers to the Lido Shipyard Sausage Company

My humble opinion has always been this song is about former Nazis who fled to Argentina and found safe haven and welcome asylum there. Being Jewish, Donald Fagen saved his most potent vocal vitriol for this song and its lyrics. Good for him as it's needed.

*confusingly Here at the Western World in the lyrics...

and quite enjoyed it, strangely enough. I tend to avoid BBC1 as a rule but for some reason I was channel hopping this evening and rather than moving on as I normally would I watched it until the end.

One thing I couldn't help noticing though was the prevalence of the noddy but even that didn't put me off.

*dons pith helmet and waits for ridicule*

Thanks to the latest Something for the Weekend e-mail, I have been 'enjoying' this deeply-unsettling-in-a-David-Lynch-kind-of-way video:

Apparently though, as this site points out, this style of singing was not intended to be funny like Les Dawson's intentionally bad piano playing, but was part of a long tradition called the Vokaliz style:

There is indeed something uncanny about a lip-synch to a song with no words, and his waxed face and hair helmet certainly do not carry over well. But once one does a bit of research, one learns that the number was not conceived out of some desire to cater to the so-bad-it's-good tastes of the Western YouTube generation, but in fact was meant to please --to genuinely please-- Soviet audiences who were capable of placing this routine, this man, and this song into a familiar context.

This version may serve as something of a palate cleanser. Worked for me anyway:

if you don't watch this and weep for your lost youth you're.....