You’ll have to excuse me if I sound as hoarse as a hacksaw this morning and seem more than a little rough around the edges, but I am in slow recovery from an extraordinary night in the company of The Hold Steady, who for today at least are officially the best rock’n’roll band on the planet.
Faintly astonishing news the other day, when it emerged that the new Bloc Party album had entered the American charts at Number 12. I'm personally a bit underwhelmed by that record - Jacknife Lee's production is really bloated and distracting, I think - but it's interesting that arty-ish indie-rock now has serious commercial clout in the States.
There were years when I seemed to be out all day and up all night, in pursuit of great rock'n'roll and a generally rowdy time.
Those days are now somewhat behind me, and I'd have to say that it mostly takes something special to lure me forth into the sweating throngs of yore.
