For people of a certain age (i.e mine), seeing a band such as The Horrors sum up two things; you’re getting old and your days of high placed cheekbones and skinny jeans have come to an end and been replaced with a nice early night after lines of chocolate flavoured Horlicks before lights out at 9.30.
Transport yourself back to these shores in 1992 and you find yourself in a grim and desolate place,
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Peaches, otherwise known as Lady Gaga’s sexed up mother, is one of those artists who commands respect but keeps failing to live up to the hyperbole. Naming an album ‘Fatherfucker’ is one thing but when the album is so bad you don’t want to listen to it, the effect is lost. (more…)

Long gone are the days of being THAT excited by a new Depeche Mode album and when the only interesting thing they have to say these days are when they talk yet again about Dave Gahan’s “drug hell”. So synonymous is this tale that it’s almost as if it was created to sustain people’s interest whilst they poo out another average album again proving that Alan Wilder who departed in 1995 was the one who sprinkled Depeche Mode with goth magic dust all along.
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When New York three piece Yeah Yeah Yeahs first attacked the music scene with the mascara smeared ‘Fever to Tell’ in 2003, the stench of the hype machine hung in the air, classic ‘Maps’ and ‘Y Control’ aside, the rest was a hotchpotch of too cool for art school styling’s with very little substance.
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It’s almost as if Bono courts the annoyance of the public, he’s bloody good at it too. Be it prophesising alongside George Bush, or on his high horse attaching himself to every right on political cause going, even his now discarded hair weave and brothel creeper shoes are annoying especially when after all that extra height augmentation, he’s still significantly smaller than diminutive pop pixie (Brave tm) Kylie Minogue and as for his ever sincere pinched face well, ahhh, that’s a story in itself so let’s move on.
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Morrissey’s return after a seven year break in 2004 with ‘You are the quarry’ was an astonishing rise from the flames of his once great career, quiff repositioned and collar adjusted, he dusted himself down and continued with his business.
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Many moons ago when flares were back in fashion and it was acceptable for grown men to have pony tails, a musical genre was created, it fused the dance beats of the flourishing underground club culture back boning real songs by bands, nowhere near as sophisticated as the electronic rock and indie we take advantage of now and at some times it sounded heavy handed and crass.
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2006’s ‘Beautiful World’ album saw the return of one of the biggest UK pop bands of all time after a ten year hiatus sans Robbie Williams, too busy bothering pies and thinking he’s an alien. The renaissance of the ex fat one, the two dancers and the little ‘un was impressive to say the least, as album sales and flying off the shelf gig tickets proved.
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The steely ambition of Brandon Flowers and his odd bunch of neanderthal rock drummers and strange guitar playing dandies mean they think they can turn their hand to any genre and come up with amazing results - wrong. (more…)

Gregg Gillis came to the publics’ attention with his 2006 album ‘Night Ripper’. This follow up is more of the same, slightly less heavy handed but equally as dodgy when it comes to lawsuits.
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