I’ve just realised what my problem with Justin Timberlake’s “Cry Me A River” is. After all the insideous funky beat is one of the most joyous things in the charts at the moment, and Justin knows how to go falsetto for effect. […]

A quick perusal of Steve’s guide to our trip to Brussels will unearth the odd reference to that old favourite subject of the Publog. The Pub Nutter. Over the case of our bar slouch (not pubs, not crawling) we came across three of this breed. Al[…]

Talk of Spice Girls reunion is nonsense. Well they say careless talk costs lives but this is a bit harsh. There I was, down the pub the other day, trying to work out exactly when we would see the reunion tour* – and some spokesperson for a non[…]

Once upon a time four publogger went to Brussels and drank lots of lovely beer. This is their story. Thought i’d put it there rather than here as it is rather long, and i haven’t updated my bl*g for almost nine months innit…[…]

“Guy With ‘Opinionated Personal Website’ Has Problem With Professional Music Writing”
No one really bothered to talk about the Pazz & Jop poll itself on NYLPM, with good reason, I guess: even Der Dean seems to lament the […]

Apparently a whole generation of latch-keyers reared on the NES, skateboard vids, and 7 Seconds albums are discovering the joys of rudimentary, home-cobbled electronics, raining cold gray slush – Residents chirrups, Whitehouse grind, Masonna sh[…]

Live Forever
Pop music has always been an audiovisual medium, but documentary movies about pop have been rare, and successful ones rarer still. Two problems confront the film-maker wanting to do more than simply record a performance. The most interes[…]

Patsy Montana- I want to be a Cowboy Sweetheart.
It hasn’t been camped up or reclaimed by anybody and not really known as well as it should be, considering it was the first song written by a woman to sell a million copies. Its not ironic and i[…]

Ahem. The counsel for the defence says: I would have loved to be sitting close enough to the ashtray in order to use it. Or indeed to have been sitting at all in a very crowded pub on a Saturday night in the centre of town. It is far more antisocial […]

The Ultimate Fop-Pop Explosion
When I hit the astroturf I knew it was serious. By the time I got to Battersea the next morning, my ankle resembled the Graf Zeppelin and each gear change felt like an angle grinder slicing through my leg. Only another […]