Ill-Advised Rocking Out #3: Does Your Mother Know?  ABBA.

Sometimes it seems like the world can’t make up its mind about what to do with ABBA.  At least, there’s no consensus.  From kitsch, Scandinavian eurotrash to teutonic laser guided Stormtroopers of melancholy, the opinions differ widely.  I appreciate that even with things like The Beatles, you get some attention seekers who pretend that they’re…

Unsigned, Peeled, Bequivered. A Small Story Of A Local Band: Part 2.

The timing of The Drummer’s sacking and the recruitment of Moggy was what you might call ordinary.   We’d been working towards a date at the end of Hull university’s academic year when they had a festival planned.  Demos were being taken in by the organisers in order to establish the lineup and running order…

Dave: A Prayer. Or, The Tragedy Of (Steven) King Fear.

  This post is about the best friend I ever had.  That and fear.  We’re not mates anymore because he doesn’t want to know and I don’t really blame him.  It’s also about the usual sorts of things I write about: being confused; being stupid; not knowing how to put things right; not knowing how…