I found the ABCs for the music magazines http://www.pressgazette.co.uk/story.asp?storycode=41928 and noted that Word was listed as "Other Music" what pray tell is that when its at home?

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/more_sport/article4874728.ece

Sporting top 40 courtesy of The Times. A great showing by Massive fave Sir William of Bragg. Any obvious ommissions.

I'd shout out for Christy Moore's "Joxer goes to Stutgart" which captures the madness of the Charlton era Irish soccer.

Not strictly music related but a worthy anecdote that I was sent by email today.

Connacht's ground is pretty unique, even in the modern days of
ground-sharing. The Galway Sportsground's other sport is not soccer like
English clubs, nor is it gaelic football, nor hurling, nor any of those
other noble Irish sports.

No, it is the action-packed and slightly whiffy world of greyhound racing,
which explains the sand track around the edges of the pitch.

Most of Connacht's home games are played on a Friday evening, which is also
the night that the local dogs are raced against each other, for an
astonishingly practical reason.

Aside from the obvious benefits to all of being able to watch some rugger
followed by having a flutter on the hounds - beneficial in terms of
bums-on-seats numbers to both rugby club and greyhound racing organisation
as well as the double-dose of sport to get the blood pumping - the local
licensing laws only permit the sale of liquor on race nights.

So if the rugby team played on, say, a Sunday, all those driven enough to
get down to the ground and give the boys a cheer would not be able to even
have a couple of pints/nips to ward off the cold.

This, then, was the crisis facing Connacht last Sunday as Leinster rolled
into town. Not only playing the Magners champions, but without a crowd even
vaguely lubricated enough to raise the gusto at the appropriate moments.

Enter an anonymous genius, who suggested that some form of canine racing
might be organised at the last minute to negotiate the irritating by-law.

And so it came to pass that a short while before kick-off, one lone and
slightly miserable-looking greyhound by the name of Monksland Hat was
ushered into his trap and released to complete a lap of the 500M racetrack
in a highly respectable 29.99 seconds.

It was an official 'trial' lap, condoned by the dog-racing association body
and constituting an official greyhound-racing event on the day.

The licensing bods played along very gamely and let the thronging green-clad
masses water themselves liberally with ale as a result of this magic
half-minute of canine athletics.

And the result? Roared on by a healthy crowd, the locals upset the reigning
Magners champs 19-18 to record their first win of the season and provide a
season's worth of bragging rights for the Galwegians over the Dubliners.

So Monksland Hat, for services rendered to the game and personal sacrifice
for the greater good, we at PR salute you. Sláinte!

Ever wondered what name your favourite rock stars use in everyday life.

We all know Johnny Rotten was never other than John Lydon to his Mum and I suspect strongly that Elvis Costello is Declan McManus to the bank manager. But Joe Strummer, David Bowie, Bob Dylan? Is Meat Loaf - Mr Loaf?

Bowie and Dylan's kids have adopted the Dad's stage name but what's on the birth cert.

Call me nosey but this intrigues me. It says something about the public and private faces of rock. Are those who keep the public and private names separate also able to keep a better balance between the demands of fame and family life.

Mark's editorial in the last issue refered to the Dead Stars feature as Lost Stars. This set me thinking.. who are the best stars who are not dead but have simply disappeared from view.

My suggestion to start the ball rolling is Mary Margaret O'Hara who despite releasing the quite simply outstanding "Miss America" in 1988 to great critical acclaim and consistent placings in top 100 album charts has only relased an EP and soundtrack album since to little or no fanfare.