My girlfriend is Interpol's biggest fan. In the morning, I get 'Antics'. In the afternoon, 'Our Love To Admire'. In the evening 'No I In Threesome'. It's a good day which doesn't involve the 'Heinliech Manouevre'.
Finally making it onto the Carling Weekend: Reading Festival site, we ran and caught two new(ish) groups, The Horrors and The Enemy. Despite both being bigged up by the NME, the groups share little in common and have slagged each other off in the press. A fan standoff awaits?
Christ almighty, is this really Reading? On the way here my only thoughts were whether I was ready for the first underwater festival. That, and the odd hungover thought about how many records the Horrors must sell in Japan.
I had originally intended to fill this space on Wednesday with some excited words on the first of this week’s three shows by The Rolling Stones at the O2 Arena, but I had urgent business in Birmingham with a former rock god whose new album may be the best thing he’s done in nigh on 30 years. But more on that later, let’s get back to the Stones.
Regular readers of UNCUT will recall that Cronenberg's last film, A History Of Violence, was our Film Of The Year in 2005. This, set among the Russian mob relocated to London's East End, is something of a companion piece, and further proof that Cronenberg is enjoying a third act revival in his fortunes.
Far away from the mud and mayhem of Chelmsford, it seems time to discuss who really impressed us this weekend. Who were the best band? What was the greatest moment? Who annoyed the hell out of us yesterday evening on the Channel 4 Stage? Read on and find out…
Barely off site, but here’s how it was. Stephen Malkmus And The Jicks just wound it up on the main stage with the new addition of Sleater Kinney’s Janet Weiss behind the drum kit, and with a few choice words to some of their UK friends: “We endorse The Cribs, but not fucking Kasabian”.
Green Man. It’s all sylvan meadows, scampering deer, Hobits dancing in secluded woodland glades. Oh, OK, like all festivals this summer it’s a big sheet of grey mud and a big sheet of grey sky. But Green Man is different.
We've just come back from The Stooges at the JJB/Puma Arena, sweaty, exhausted and exhilarated. Rarely have we ever seen a performance so elementally powerful, and rarely have we had the urge to get right down the front and go mad like we did tonight.
Such has been the drooling media focus on Kate Bush this week, it might be tough to imagine British music journalists listening to anything else these past few days. I'm not, in fairness, exempt from the hysteria: here's...