‘Okay Steven … do that again?’

The usual incursions of Real Life have prevented me from saying a great deal on the passing of Steven Wells, cultural critic, ranting poet and the Rorschach of Nineties music journalism, who consistently proved that the best could be as full of passionate intensity as the worst. All I can do as a placeholder is link you to Everett True’s compilation of tributes to the man, here.

I’m also late to the farewell party of Conor Mcnicholas, as he bids goodbye to the NME’s wrung-out husk and moves on to wreak his multi-platform brand of havoc on … yes, Top Gear magazine. What a strange little world we inhabit. I’d flatter myself if I thought my own little molotov cocktail helped him along, but I do like to think of him pursued from IPC Towers by the insistent sussuration of spoon in a suit, spoon in a suit…. Every little helps.

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