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Hi, I’m Steve Sutherland and I’ve gatecrashed John's Blog because I’m out in California covering the Coachella Music & Arts Festival for Uncut.Coachella is just over two hours’ drive inland from LA and the Festival, now in its eighth year, has become a favourite with Brit music fans for four good reasons.

Still waiting for that Phil Collins fan to post a defence of his hero. But in the meantime, Paul Holmes has joined in bashing "Tory Frog Prince Collins". "One half-decent Genesis tune, some so-so work on a John Martyn record and a clutch of Sunny D Motown rip-offs doth not a canon make," he writes. Fair point. Thanks also to Chads, who responded to our talk of Bill Fay the other day by mentioning Simon Finn, another neglected, quasi-mystic British singer-songwriter from the early '70s who, like Fay, was redicovered by Current 93's David Tibet. I must dig out his "Pass The Distance" album, which I haven't played in ages, though I seem to remember some of it being a bit quirky for my taste.

Thanks for your latest bunch of messages, especially the people who said kind things about my David Ackles blog the other day. Good to see more love for Bill Fay, too: we were playing his first album the other day. "Everyone should love David Ackles - just like everyone shoud love Bill Fay," writes Baptiste. "It takes time for writers like them to get some kind of public acknowledgement. I mean: why? Is Bill Fay's "Be Not So Fearful" such a difficult song? Is "Down River" a 30 minutes white noise jam?

Call me speculative, but I don’t think John will be writing about Nick Lowe’s new album, At My Age, on his Wild Mercury Sound blog. It doesn’t, for a start, resemble the battle for Stalingrad reaching a furious climax, like the more deafening parts of the latest Queens Of The Stone Age record he’s been frightening me out of my wits with over the last week or so. I think therefore I might be permitted a few passing words on a particularly fine album without trespassing on John’s turf.

A few nice things arrived in the Uncut office today. One was a big compilation of Finnish psychedelic music from the late '60s and early '70s, which I can't wait to investigate properly. The second was another lavish raid on the Elektra catalogue, this time a 2CD set called "There Is A River" which collects the first three albums (plus outtakes) of David Ackles.

I blogged about the new Richard Thompson album here a couple of weeks ago, but I've still been playing it a lot, not least because I had a quick chat with Thompson on the phone last Friday.

As I mentioned, signing off yesterday’s blog, I was just off to an industrial estate somewhere in Acton, west London, for what had been described to me as a ‘public rehearsal’ by Carbon/Silicon, the ‘band’ formed by The Clash’s Mick Jones and Tony James, formerly of Generation X and Sigue Sigue Sputnik. I had almost cried off going, but thankfully thought better of what would have been a calamitous decision I would subsequently regretted. It turned out to be a brilliant evening.

First off, thanks to Red 157 for spotting the stupid error in the Queens Of The Stone Age piece I posted here yesterday. It was of course Josh Homme and not Mark Lanegan who sang the original version of "I Wanna Make It Wit Chu" on "Desert Sessions 9&10" - something I would have got right if I'd bothered to check my original review of that album. Apologies.

I'm not sure we should be giving any more publicity to the bizarre media phenomenon that is Sharon Osbourne, but I couldn't resist starting today with this quote from her about Josh Homme. Homme, it seems, had the temerity to criticise Ozzfest. In response, Osbourne told Blender, "I hope he gets syphilis and dies. I hope his dick fuckin' falls off so his mother can eat it."

Coming from the same creative team behind the first two Spider-Man movies -- headed by director Sam Raimi -- the big question hanging over part 3 is: what the hell went wrong? Spider-Man 3 seems to have been willed into existence by the combined efforts of marketing departments, merchandise divisions and third-party licencees. The result is soulless and witless, a sequel too far.