Oh look at me! I’m so clever

As I type this ‘The Seven Ages of Rock‘ is droning on in the corner of the room, and once again it’s annoying me. Has anyone not seen the Pistols swearing on TV yet? Was there any point featuring Patti Smith for all of two minutes, someone not featured much on national telly, and then following it with what felt like years of the Sex Pistols? Was Charles Shaar Murray sat on a washing machine for all of his interviews?
This show is a bizarre combination of things we already know and a select group of musos attempting to make things we already know sound like the most startlingly original insights known to man.
I’m now starting to dread the programme on ‘Britpop‘. God alone knows which acts they’ll decide to focus on. It’ll probably be thirty-five minutes on Oasis plus brief sections on Menswear, Echobelly and Shed sodding Seven. The only positive is that the producers will hopefully hand over a huge chunk of the show to the unfalteringly charming, literate and witty, John Harris. If you’ve not read his study of Britpop, ‘The Last Party‘, you really should. Go on, treat yourself.
I’ll be returning to Britpop for a lengthy period soon, as part of my delight at the release of Alex James‘ memoirs, shamelessly entitled, ‘A Bit Of A Blur‘.
The Clash are on now. Have you heard of them, dear? Ah, bollocks to it, here’s Lydon again.

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