A brief dispatch, since I'm fending off hordes of enraged Smashing Pumpkins fans, some of them Argentinian. My crimes are many, but involve bad grammar, liking Zwan and, OK, disrespecting the the untouchable genius of Billy Corgan.


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First, a couple of housekeeping things. Thanks for all your comments on the Smashing Pumpkins review from last week. In response to TROY, yes, I have definitely heard the album and, yes, I guess I have bad taste according to your criteria. Sorry! If I can just point out again, though, that if I leaked my copy of "Zeitgeist", the iron fist of Warner Brothers would crush this blog instantly. So no go, guys.


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A small bit of history, last night, that I was honoured to witness. Wilco played at the Shepherd's Bush Empire in West London, the scene of some pretty fractious shows by Jeff Tweedy - a fact which made him both self-conscious and extremely funny when he found the courage to open his mouth.


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Billy Corgan is not an easy man to like, but from time to time in his career he's made some pretty good records. I should make it clear from the start that I'm hardly a Smashing Pumpkins obsessive: I liked the psych-grunge of "Gish" a lot, and I was distinctly impressed by the translation of ambition into a new kind of stadium rock on "Siamese Dream".


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We're partying like it's 1994 here at Uncut this afternoon, because the new Beastie Boys album has arrived. It's called "The Mix-Up", and we're just grooving amiably to track seven, "Off The Grid".


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A nice post from Tunetribe about yesterday's blog on Justice. Not least because he/she seems to have picked some sense out of my gibberish.


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I am, I must confess, a bit unclear about what exactly is meant by the very hip term blog house. I've a hunch that it refers to dance music whose success is driven by online theorists rather than exposure in clubs. But to be honest, I've a bit of a dilettante attitude to the dance scene these days: much as I try to keep up to speed with as much music as I can, I think I'm missing a lot of this stuff.


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Forgive the constant references to domestic business at Uncut these past few days, but it's been hard to review much music when we've been in the throes of moving office. We're now firmly established in our luxurious new building just behind the Tate Modern, and have spent the morning trying to understand the new phones and get used to the decor: roughly MODE magazine, redesigned by IKEA, but a damn sight nicer than our old place.


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OK I've just packed the stereo into a crate, so it's a bit hard to write a proper blog today. Uncut is moving to our palatial new home this afternoon, and I'll hopefully get back to proper blogging action next week.


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Very quick post today, because the Uncut move has become rather pressing here . But a few things that you might be interested in. Firstly, the Spider-Man 3 soundtrack turned up this morning.


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Editor's Letter

Reviewed: Kate Bush, Hammersmith Apollo, August 27, 2014


There is a song on "Aerial", Kate Bush's eighth and possibly best album, called "Bertie". "Here comes the sunshine," it begins, "Here comes that son of mine/Here comes the everything/Here's a song and a song for him." Nine years later, here, perhaps is a show for him: an unexpected comeback; a...