Hello, you fools, I love you Why does nobody talk about the golden age of girl groups on this list? We were out at Da Doo Ron Ron at Po Na Na (infantile? us?) the other night to see Beanz Geddes and the Divine Symington play Northern Soul and other records by The Verve. It was great! They played my request (for the mighty Doris) and Stevie Jackson said hello. And Susannah was there too! Much better than that Dave Stewart Looper bloke on Monday and nary a techno-pagan octopus in sight. Why does Peter Miller never tell us when he's about to come to Britain? Does he have something to hide? Do you believe in life after love? Or, more importantly, in life after rock and roll? I always thought that once you've gone down the proverbial dumper, the only option open to a drummer is becoming a mini-cab driver. But I was talking to a friend the other day about back problems, and she told me that her new chiropractor is Terry Chimes AKA Tory Crimes AKA the sometime drummer for The Clash. What a sensible chap. Chiropracty seems like a rather perilious career path for someone who's used to bashing away at bass drums, but fair play to the bloke. Does anyone else know of rock'n'roll animals who have settled down to get proper jobs? I like to imagine that Slash might one day see the error of his ways, get a pension plan and decide to become an orthodontist. For Simon who was asking about clubs in Lahndan on a Friday: tonight there's another Track and Field at the Betsey Trotwood pub on Farringdon Road. I was woken this morning by the dulcet tones of Melody Maker journalist Whispering Ben Clancy. Fortunately he was on the radio rather than in my bed, talking about MM on GLR. Both once-venerable institutions seem to be heading for the dumper at the moment: the BBC plans to turn GLR into another 24-hour talk and rolling news station with phone-ins for people who like to complain about dog mess on pavements, and this week's sampler for the new-look MM seems to have sold its soul to sports-rock and taken its design cue from the Innovations catalogue. Wasn't the future supposed to be all about narrow-casting, with the media catering for finer and finer niche-markets? In which case there should be a radio station that only broadcasts Baxendale, Mary Margaret O'Hara and Debussy and a magazine for Muji-wearing thirty-something Donald Barthelme fans. As it is, there isn't a single listenable radio station and every pop/film/etc magazine in the world seems to have a naked bird on the cover and an identical editorial policy. What a sack of arse. Sorry for ranting, but sometimes there's a place for stating the bleeding obvious. I am intrigued to hear the verdict on Nalda said - it got some kind of amazing review in the Guardian yesterday (obviously by Dastoor under a pseudonym). But I'd also to be interested to hear the word on Gregory's Two Girls... anyone? Thank you for your interest in my love life and burgeoning media career. Joussé Troussé +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the reborn Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". WWW: http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "jelly-filled danishes" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+