This was the world premiere debut full cast performance of the film script that Ray Galton & Alan Simpson wrote for Tony Hancock after their success with 'The Rebel'. The self destructive Hancock eventually rejected the script as not "international" enough and fired his writers. Hancock went on to make the none more parochial 'Punch N Judy Man' before drink, depression and personal demons drove him to his death. Tonight, this visual radio show was enlivened by a superb cast with its crown jewel being Tom Goodman-Hill in the Hancock role getting the rhythm and character of the comic without feeling like an impression. Kevin Eldon's Bernard Bresslaw-like "bloke in park", Morwenna Banks' daft waitress and the comic timing of Norman Lovett gave the script a real spark. Despite being 50 years old the script was fresh and relevant. It was a genuine thrill to hear this lost gem for the first time along with its authors who provided a very amusing interview session at the end.

A first time trip to Nottingham to see the majestic Wild Flag is marred by the ridiculous stage times. We arrive at 20:45 and the band are already four songs in; when did a headline act ever take to the stage at 20:35 I ask you? Regaining my composure I revel in the onslaught of four women at the top of their game, Glass Tambourine's extended jam blows minds and Racehorse shakes booty. Carrie Brownstein continues to be *the* rock star of the last twenty years, and Mary Timony's growing assurance in the band is compelling. But the real star tonight is Janet Weiss whose thunderous drums testify to the awesome power of her biceps; don't let any haters tell you women can't drum. Finishing with Television and Ramones covers, Wild Flag give us the dance party of the year.

HMHB wander on earlier than your average headliner - Nigel Blackwell likes to sleep in his own bed, and who can blame him? Not one to stay aloof from his audience, NB appears deep in conversation with the front row at times. We get treated to his views on the Football League show ("Claridge looks like he's just remembered he left the oven on") and his worry that he's become a "wood snob" for what he burns on his stove. They keep it simple; NB stays on acoustic throughout, the sole guitar change being the bass for one song. The new album (90 Bisodol) is well represented with 7 songs, and most of their other albums get a look-in. We certainly get our money's worth from the lengthy set (see below); some like the rousing 'vatican broadside' are brief but others like the extended '24 hour garage people' are positively epic. No covers, a pity given their previous selections but it would be churlish to complain. They could have gone on all night, and nobody there would have stopped them.

40 people meet on a farm on the wild Northumberland coast, housed in a comfy bunkhouse. Few of us know what to expect, but we’re straight down to business – singing –as soon as we arrive. The weekend consists of a series of workshops led by Rachel and Becky, plus other sessions with dad George and stepdad Jim in the farmhouse that is temporary home to the Unthanks clan. These are interspersed with walks on the beach and visits to the pub, with singing taking place during both, much to the alarm and then delight of the pub’s patrons. We are looked after throughout by the Unthanks members and their friends and family, who are all lovely people, unfailingly friendly and welcoming. We learn many chorus songs, shanties and folk songs, in unison and in harmony, and we sound pretty damned good by the end of it. As a lapsed chorister, my enthusiasm for singing is rekindled. I thoroughly enjoy every minute of this.

Having played guitar in The Magic Band for 5 years, Gary Lucas is as well placed as any to interpret the late Don van Vliet for today's audiences. He is convivial company for over two hours, guiding us through a career interwoven with that of Captain Beefheart, first as awestruck fan, then as band member and manager / minder and ultimately as curator and champion of the legacy. There is spoken word, archive footage and a mixed bag of guest contributions, best of which were poems, passionately delivered. Liverpool was an appropriate venue as the city where he first exhibited at The Bluecoat in 1972, and there is an ever changing backdrop of the art that filled van Vliet's life after 'Ice Cream for Crow'. But it was impossible to ignore the guitars propped on the stage and finally we were treated to a precious demonstration of how good the music could sound live, plus a generous encore of Lucas playing Lucas. I could have listened to those awkward rhythms all night.

Suggs on stage accompanied by a pianist tells tales of childhood, London, Madness, family and hitting 50 interspersed with excerpts of favourites - Baggy Trousers, Madness, It Must Be Love, Cecilia and others. Its gentle, heartwarming, funny, charming and surprisingly moving. Suggs so charismatic, that glint in his eye undiminished and easy charm so natural and unaffected. A real joy of an evening.

When Henry Rollins turned 50 last year, his squawking assistant, Heidi (“The Demon”) marked the occasion with the gift of a four-foot rubber shark – something to put on the floor of his office and remind him of the state of his career every time he jumped over it. In reality, Henry’s longevity as a performer is sustained by a work ethic that goes back to his days of being “indie-band poor” where “if you didn’t play, you didn’t eat.” His shows are low on pacing and more about how many anecdotes he can cram into an evening. Tonight's monologue stretches from 1980s America to contemporary India: A girl at a Black Flag gig, flattened under the body of a stage diver, loses an eye; In North Korea, the relative of sizes of public squares in Pyongyang and Beijing are hotly debated; Pentecostal snake handlers are filmed for National Geographic; A small ladder is purchased at Costco! It’s a mentally exhausting experience but it broadens the mind and warms the soul.

I am sure that Word readers won't need me to introduce Vivian Stanshall's 1978 lp of Sir Henry at Rawlinson End. In this show Mike Livesley and a group of crack musicians recreate the world of Sir Henry, Scrotum (the wrinkled retainer), Aunt Florrie et all in a production that affectionately and remarkably accurately reproduces the original. Stanshall himself toured this in 1978, but if a crude live recording is anything to go by, the performances lacked the sparkle required for an hour of storytelling and some songs. No such trouble here as Livesley energetically occupies all of the characters. The show is not touring, but appearing sporadically (London in March, Penzance in June). If you can, go. It's a brilliant evening of true English eccentricity.

Now becoming an annual event for me in its third year. The Nearlies were on magnificent form this time, best yet. Sax and trumpets and bass all really exceptional, especially amazing female saxophonist, in support of the solid trio of duelling lead and rhythm guitar and keyboards. Very capable drumming too and the 'chick singers'* in superb voice. The friend I took is a blues-rock devotee so this was a departure; she was completely won over. *the technical term, I am assured

What a fantastic evening. If you don't know Tom's work he is one of the greatest storytellers playing music today. Songs about Bob Dylan's childhood, child actors playing Peter Pan & drugs being swapped for guns on the Mexican border. Every song has a preamble that's as least as long as the tune & always wry & witty. Tales about illegal Mexicans being employed to build walls to keep the illegal's out, you couldn't make it up. With a great blues pickin' guitarist to back him up you could not fault it. More theater than rock n roll.

Howard was arguably the creative force that made The Birthday Party something different. Certainly other band members and observers support this view in this documentary of his life. I only saw him once and he died a few weeks later. He had finally got off heroin and beat hep C but died awaiting a liver transplant just as Pop Crimes, only his second solo album, was released to acclaim. It's a good doco with interviews and a lot of mainly grainy rare foootage of Young Charlatans, the Birthday Party, Crime and City solution, These Immortal Souls and his later period when he was largely reclusive and struggling with his ailments and life in general. Nick Cave is effusive in praise of the man but appears reluctant to admit to injustices meted out.This is a worthy testament to the life of a significant artist

An audacious and brilliant silent film directed by Michel Hazanavicius and starring Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo. Dujardin is George Valentin, a hugely successful silent movie star caught by the onset of the talkies. Bejo, the director's wife, is the aspiring star Peppy Miller, who idolises Valentin and who forms a bond with him on one of his last successful pictures. As her star is in the ascendant, his is on the wane. She becomes one of the big stars of the early talkies while Valentin struggles on the shelf. Dujardin and Bejo (who some of us saw in the French spy farce OSS 118) are sensational in the lead roles and Hazanavicius' direction really brings the silent era to life. There are obvious parallels with Singin' in the Rain - Dujardin is a ringer for Gene Kelly - but it is a remarkable achievement by a talented group of people. This really deserves an Oscar.

After last Jan at the Metro and the best gig I've ever seen, this was a bit of a disappointment. The band seemed to be on it all right, every time they launched into a number it was the familiar ferocious roar. But they would do 2 or 3 numbers, then complain about equipment. First it was the monitors, then the guitar, then another monitor....it just kept breaking the spell. It was a bit of a let down really, good but not great. And it looked like there was way too much Grecian 2000 going on for mine.

Over eight years since his last performance in Manchester, Paul McCartney finally returned to the city for a pre-Christmas visit on his 'On The Run' tour. Selling out venues is business-as-usual for McCartney, but the scrum to enter the venue via Victoria Station was the busiest I've seen it. With no support act, Sir Paul took the stage a little after 8pm and treated us to a faultless 3 hour performance. I'm delighted to note that he is changing his set with each show and tour: many of the obvious Beatles songs were there, but gems like 'Mrs Vandebilt', '1985' and 'Ram On' were also among the highlights. He has always been underrated as a singer and I'm please to say that his voice is still as powerful as ever. A great night and I didn't want it to end. We even got 'Wonderful Christmastime'.

A local after-school music club puts on a band night in a local dive. Three euros at the door, a stamp on the hand, and then you descend into what should be a dark and smoky bar, except all the smokers have to keep trooping back upstairs. Acoustic acts begin the night, with a pretty blonde girl who sings a series of covers, starting with KT Tunstall and ending with Lady Gaga. The next three acts do more or less the same. First electric act is an all-girl rock band (though one of the teachers fills in on drums). They look fabulous, but I want them to have better material. These French teenagers are all singing in English, and they could do so much better if they were more aware of the possibilities. The singer struggles with some of the landfill indie numbers they do. She's got a voice that would suit something by Miranda Lambert or Tift Merritt. Final act features wife's godson Pierre, and a brunette who can really sing, but once more I'm disappointed with the material.