For a detailed commentary on how this list was compiled, go to the next entry above this one.

Inspired by Philo's global top 50 weblog list, here are the 40 most linked-to UK weblogs, as listed on Blogdex. Just for the hell of it, I've also annotated each entry with the current first sentence from each weblog listed.

Sincere apologies for any mistakes or omissions.

1. Plastic Bag (351 links) http://www.plasticbag.org/
Without the aid of Kung-Tunes you would not have known that Tom is currently listening to Tiny Dancer by Elton John from the album "Almost Famous".
(not counting 39 links for http://plasticbag.org/)

2. not.so.soft (255) http://www.notsosoft.com/blog/
My ears hurt from too much feedback and crappy earphones.
(not counting 87 links for http://www.notsosoft.com/, and 53 links for http://notsosoft.com/blog/)

3. LinkMachineGo (137) http://www.timemachinego.com/linkmachinego/
Perfect Victim -- Preview of Filth #2 ... 'This is a joke. This is a fucking joke. When do I wake up and smear my padded cell with my own feces?'

4. Brainsluice (119) http://www.brainsluice.com/ (arguably no longer a UK blog, but still...)
Back into Spain ... first stop, Salamanca.

5. Lukelog (117) http://www.captainfez.com/blog/
John Entwistle is dead.

6. Plep (107) http://www.nutcote.demon.co.uk/nutlog.html
Xerox hit by fresh scandal.

7. Bifurcated Rivets (103) http://catless.ncl.ac.uk/Lindsay/weblog/latest.html
The Smart Kindergarten - I think that the best place for silicon in a kindergarten is the sandpit.

8. Natalie Solent (99) http://nataliesolent.blogspot.com/
The tinnitus will go away after a minute.

9. Dutchbint (98) http://www.dutchbint.org/
Ant Picnic is a bit of a game and a bit of a chat room, beautifully done in Flash.

10. Acerbia (95) http://www.acerbia.com/
Since Pix had taken the day off today in preparation of helping me set up my own company (now no longer a requirement for the new job... oh yeah, I start Monday) it was eventually agreed that we would head down to the Thames to see some sights.

11. Wherever You Are (77) http://www.whereveryouare.org/weblog/
Following this entry from last weekend, I feel that I ought to make you aware that I am on a serious Smiths tip at the moment.

12. New York London Paris Munich (72) http://www.netcomuk.co.uk/~tewing/singlesb.html
timothy white, r.i.p. - somewhat lost in the midst of the news of john entwistle's passing was word of the death of billboard editor-in-chief timothy white who died at the age of 50 of an apparent heart attack last night, just as the magazine was going to press.

13. Ben Hammersley (71) http://www.benhammersley.com/
Despite the fact that their page doesn't work in the latest build of Mozilla, and caused a terrible drop back into IE6, Newsguru is rather nifty.

14. Ellen Stafford’s LiveJournal (68) http://www.livejournal.com/users/webkin/
I have just this minute finished work.

15= iamcal (67) http://www.iamcal.com/
You can now send me SMS using the little box down on the left.

15= haddock.org (67) http://www.haddock.org/
warchalking goes from new idea to vast media excitement to backlash in about 48 hours...

17. Orbyn (64) http://www.orbyn.com/
Xfm come good at last: Simon Pegg and Nick Frost from Spaced are standing in for Zoe Ball tomorrow afternoon.

18= Blogjam (60) http://www.blogjam.com/
I am truly sorry for what I am about to post.

18= Swish Cottage (60) http://www.swishcottage.com/
Hear'Say in excellent single shock!
(not counting 72 links for http://swishcottage.blogspot.com/)

20. Parallax View (59) http://www.parallaxview.nu/
Is Nickelback's Chad Kroeger the ugliest man in rock?

21. Guardian Unlimited Weblog (58) http://www.guardian.co.uk/weblog/
Share prices fall as US telecoms giant WorldCom admits to $3.8bn hole in its accounts.

22= Grayblog (57) http://www.grayblog.co.uk/
Today's plan: shopping in Brighton, followed by going to a pub in North Bersted to see the band with Greg and Bren.

22= The Obvious? (57) http://www.blaven.demon.co.uk/weblog/blogger.html
Couldn't resist the latest memetic Google game!

22= Blogadoon (57) http://www.iansie.com/nonsense/blog.html
A forensic pathologist told Westminster coroner's court that popular gay TV presenter Christopher Price died from an extremely rare brain disease, meningoencephalitis.

25. The Edge Of England’s Sword (56) http://englandssword.blogspot.com/
One man's reminder to the Ninth Circuit Court of what America's about: Mary Young Pickersgill's Banner.

26. kitschbitch (51) http://www.kitschbitch.com/
beep. welcome to the kitschbitch answerphone.

27= Life As It Happens (50) http://lifeasithappens.blogspot.com/
Well, I'm ready. I've got my cloth cap and my whippet, and I've not yet decided where to put the black pudding (ooer, Missus!).

27= Over Your Head (50) http://www.overyourhead.co.uk/
Inspired by David's random image loading I thought I'd install a random quote script.

27= Minor 9th (50) http://www.minor9th.com/
is it safe to eat haribo posted to you by a girl who calls herself jeff?

30= Nick Jordan (48) http://www.nickjordan.co.uk/
While one of my workmates waved a large pack of handkerchiefs around as though it was a lightsabre, another of them described it as "the most fun you can have with a packet of hankies."

30= Flip Flop Flyin’ (48) http://www.flipflopflyin.com/
It's been an interesting month.

32. Sore Eyes (47) http://www.thebeard.demon.co.uk/weblog.html
www.apple-history.com: it does exactly what it says on the tin.

33= B3TA (45) http://b3ta.com/
Our latest newsletter - sorry it's late. We were being chased around the room by a wasp.

33=. Digital Trickery (45) http://www.digitaltrickery.com/
GONE TO GLASTO BACK 2/7/02

35. Onlineblog.com (44) http://www.onlineblog.com/
IBM has decided to retire the NetVista X Series PC distinguished by having a flat LCD screen on a movable arm.

36. kookymojo (43) http://kookymojo.blogspot.com/
this (well, this, actually) is just one of the reasons why wireless internet appeals to me.

37. Interconnected (41) http://interconnected.org/home/
In terms of the Long Now, welcome to the Holocene, the most recent (and current) interglacial period.
(not counting 35 links to http://www.interconnected.org/home/)

38= methylsalicylate (35) http://tfn.net/~brooke/dook.htm
From the There's a Fine Line Between Journalists and Social Scientists, and You're Neither, Dept.: In the early 90s I was an anthropology student at a large university in the South.

38= Rather Good (35) http://www.rathergood.com/
Tales of the Blode Episode 4 - Food Feed Fury is now available for your viewing pleasure.

38= Voidstar (35) http://www.voidstar.com/
A funny thing happened to my broadband connection last night; roughly half the web disappeared.

The most linked-to European weblog, excluding the UK, was Prolific.

Update: For a new Top 30 chart compiled using different criteria, take a look at Blogpop.

Aha - just what I was looking for:
How to Survive Without Audiogalaxy: A Guide to File-Sharing Alternatives.

Do you know - I have so much time on my hands that I was even thinking about breaking one of my most steadfast blogging rules. Namely, doing The Friday Five. Well, just one little dabble couldn't hurt, could it?

Then, just in the nick of time, I read this...and swiftly reconsidered. Close shave, though....

Update: As I was writing this, Sashinka was writing her own splendidly accurate hatchet job on the whole phenomenon.

Having just found the gay male version of Bridget Jones' Diary, (and yes, that really is the third plug this week - have you got the message yet?), I have now, somewhat belatedly no doubt, discovered the lesbian version. Like the gay male version, it is infintely superior to Helen Fielding's little tome. Now all I need are the heterosexual male version and the transgendered version , and I shall have the full set.

Pissed off at missing Glasto this year? Then simply follow Meg's tips for recreating that unique festival vibe in the privacy of your own home. Warning: if reading in the office, may give rise to involuntary hysterical giggling fit, followed by sharp, curious sideways glances from co-workers.

Oh, all right then.

Because I’m still watching it (sometimes despite myself), and because I’ve kept you waiting long enough, and because I really do have a lot of time on my hands, here are my thoughts on Big Brother 3. The more high-minded amongst you should stop reading now. I still remember the drubbing I got over Pop Idol, and some wounds are slow to heal. In any case, if Popbitch is to be believed, then I am in good company.

In my opinion, BB3 is only now starting to get into its stride. As in previous years, the first couple of weeks made depressing viewing, as the majority of the contestants were still operating within their breathlessly excitable “Wow! I’m on telly!” personas. Unlike previous years, it has taken much longer for these personas to be stripped down, for the cameras to be forgotten about, for friendships, enmities and rivalries to develop, and for a more interesting drama to develop. This is largely due to the poor selection of contestants, most of this year’s bunch having few obviously endearing or interesting qualities, and precious little in the way of natural wit, intelligence or character (Readers: Ooh, hark at her! Who does she think she is! etc. etc.) Furthermore, the first few weeks of BB1 and BB2 had been enlivened by the challenges of the weekly task. This year, there have been no “proper” tasks, opening up a dangerously dull void for both the contestants and the viewers. Clearly, the production team have blundered badly in several ways. Luckily for them, there is still something curiously addictive about the format which has allowed the show to struggle on. This luck may run out entirely by next year. Simply put (and I am fully aware of how ridiculous this statement will look) - Big Brother 3 has dumbed down.

The one glorious exception to the show’s relative decline has been Davina. Her handling of the Friday night eviction shows has been masterful, showing both intuition and empathy, and making the most of each exit interview. Adapting her interviewing style to each candidate with consummate skill, she has been a beacon of intelligence in a squall of crass stupidity.

Turning to the remainder of this year’s contestants…

Adele distinguished herself in the early stages of the show, by remaining calm, steady and personable when all around were getting pissed, flirting outrageously, and mucking about on the sofa for what felt like an eternity. By comparison, she appeared to have an endearing humility, even vulnerability. She also appeared to be everybody’s friend, in a pleasant, low-key, one-on-one kind of way.

How things change! Her friendship with Jade in particular has brought out a catty, sniggering, and indeed rather superior side to her nature. This is leading to the increasing perception of Adele as “two faced”. However, I can still empathise with her situation.

Firstly, being polite to people who you actually dislike is not necessarily indicative of being “two faced” – it is simple good manners. Anyone who works in an office faces the same situation on a daily basis. Trapped in a confined space with the same people for weeks on end, maintaining a polite front at all times must necessitate an almost saintly level of self-control. Letting off steam to a couple of close friends “in private” seems like a good way to release the pressure, if you ask me.

Secondly, having something of a bitchy, cruel streak myself (five years in the brutalising, survive-or-sink environment of an all-male boarding school having left their mark), I understand all too well the temptations of giving in, and letting rip. It’s nasty, but it’s fun – and how much in the way of fun is on offer in the Big Brother house? Adele is keeping herself entertained and stimulated in one of the few ways that are left open to her (although that running machine must also be a great help). If I was in there, I would probably end up doing the same thing. Shaming, but true.

Alex, it is clear to see, has come into his own as one of the strongest characters in the house. Living on the “rich side” and lording it over the “poor side”, the male model is now able to slip back into what is probably a familiar mode of living for him: comfortable, pampered elitism. He has his grooming products. He has his much longed-for “sparkling mineral water”. He has his troupe of adoring girlies. As the “picker” for the last two weeks, he is the controlling figure on the “rich side”. Now, he can kick back, stop whinging, and start being funny and likeable and entertaining. This phase may yet turn out to be short-lived.

In terms of public perception, Jade is now at her lowest ebb. All of her most dislikeable qualities have come into sharp focus. She is alternately cruel and victimising, or else pathetically ingratiating. In sharp contrast to the ultimately endearing Helen in BB2, Jade’s astonishing (and at times hilarious) ignorance is the product of a truly hideous lack of curiosity, and an almost wilful refusal to engage with the world around her. This is not a sweet, child-like innocence; it is a terrifying, solipsistic stupidity.

All through the show, I have had one simple problem with Jonny: he’s a Geordie. This is a new, shocking, and hopefully temporary prejudice of mine, brought on by my recent weeks of toil in the Industrial North East. My resentment at being exiled to that part of the world seems to have translated into an all-encompassing resentment towards all its inhabitants; this is something which I need to get over, and fast.

As for Jonny himself: more than any of the others, he seems hyper-aware of the cameras of at all times. As a result, his entire conduct comes across as something of a performance. He is self-consciously stage managing perceptions of himself – initially as a life-and-soul-of-the-sofa joker, and now as a more mature, steady, sympathetic all-round nice guy. No doubt there are strong elements of both people in his character, and it would be unfair to judge him too harshly on this self-consciousness. Again, I would no doubt be much the same if I were in the Big Brother house.

More than any of the others, I have become fond of Kate. She strikes me as someone who has always been able to make her way easily and cheerfully through life, as pretty and blonde and popular and “nice”. I also sense that she has always been used to getting her own way. However, under the harsh scrutiny of the show’s format, this strategy quickly unravelled itself. Very early on, her tactics started to come across as a pathetic attempt to ensure that she received the same amount of attention that has always been her due – leading me to nickname her “Miss Photo Opportunity”. Soon - with some of her natural allies disappearing from the house, and with the rise to prominence of Alex’s gang – Kate found herself in a new position: one of the unpopular set, marginalised, isolated, stuck on the poor side for two weeks.

For a while, Kate looked completely crushed, to the extent that I felt quite worried about her. Her behaviour became strange, disjointed, jumpy, paranoid. In particular, her initial attempts at flirtation with Tim came across as downright weird. But now, she seems to be finally re-assembling herself as a much more real, human character, stripped of her earlier spoilt vanity and self-consciousness. I like this new Kate. She is learning from her experience, and is emerging as a better person for it.

My temporary – and frankly inexplicable – crush on PJ is now long gone. I still find it difficult to believe that a man this crassly inarticulate is actually a law graduate. If there is another, more analytical, more considered side to him, then he has been keeping it well hidden. He is clearly highly-sexed, his patent desperation making him a laughably easy prey for Jade to manipulate. His laddish persona is only now starting to crumble. He could yet surprise us all.

As someone who has been similarly victimised in claustrophobic situations in the past (that would be boarding school again), I now feel desperately sorry for Sophie. Although dull in the extreme, she has done nothing to deserve such vitriol, beyond a highly ill-advised earlier flirtation with the preposterous Lee. She is trying to deal with the current situation with as much strength and self-control as she is able, and I admire her for that.

There is one particular four letter word which I only use very sparingly indeed, usually laced with heavy irony when I do so. But Tim is one of them. No further comment necessary.

My predictions? Sophie out tomorrow, obviously. Jade and Adele nominated next week – Jade to walk. The last three? Alex, Jonny and Kate. Alex to win, unless his personality reverts back to its earlier incarnation – in which case Jonny will win.

Yeah, I know, a bit prolific this week. It's just that - suddenly and unexpectedly freed from the shackles of routine drudgery - my little brain has started fizzing over with thoughts and words and ideas, as if water had been poured onto its parched surface. And I suppose that Troubled Diva is here to catch the drips.

Feels good, I'm tellin' ya!

I hope I'm not wearing you out.

Apropos the preposterousness of astrology, as discussed yesterday…

When K and I were courting (back in the Spring of 85), he was temporarily sharing a house with a couple of stoner hippies, N and P. N was a guitar-strumming Brummie troubadour who looked like Catweazle. P had dirty blonde dreads, shocking front teeth, and a scabby old dog which gave us all scabies. P was a man of many conspiracy theories. For instance, there were no actual nuclear weapons on British soil, just empty rockets; this was all part of a great plan hatched up by the USA and the Soviet Union, designed to suppress the masses by keeping them in a state of constant fear. Anyhow, N was rather in thrall to P, considering him something of a guru. Especially when it came to astrology.

P had this big book, you see – as well as his Natural Intuitive Gift, of course. If you supplied P with enough information (including the precise place and time of your birth), he could draw up a detailed star chart for you. Then, if you had a specific question to ask about your immediate destiny, P could draw up a new star chart for that question, which would then provide you with an authoritative answer.

Over time, N asked many, many questions of P. In fact, N started to rely so much on P’s answers that he became almost incapable of making any decisions for himself. All of N’s questions were logged in the same notebook, which he left behind after moving out. K and I snuck a look one time, with mounting disbelief. Seemingly every answer constituted a mandate for inertia - for lassitude - for defeatism. It certainly explained a lot.

Examples? I can still quote a couple of them verbatim:

Q: Will my relationship with Tina come to fruition?
A: Nothing will come of it.

Q: Will I be going to Grimsby this weekend?
A: It is too early to say.

P’s justification for the legitimacy of astrology as a valid science went something like this. You know how the Moon, right, acts on water by creating, like, tides and stuff? Well, the human body is over 90% water, right? So it stands to reason, right, that the movements of the moon will also dramatically affect the body – and the soul as well, yeah? And not just the moon either - but, like, all the planets and the stars and stuff. Stands to reason, right?

Such was the magical, mystical crucible in which the flames of our love for each other were first ignited. Salad days indeed!

How often do you come across a blog which is so compelling that you simply have to read the entire archive from beginning to end? Not that often, right?

Well, The Search For Love In Manhattan is one such blog. I know I’ve already plugged it once this week, but I make no apology in doing so again. In fact, to appreciate it properly, you have to start with the very first entry and work your way back up, as the entire blog reads like a sequenced narrative, and there are loads of clever references to earlier entries which you wouldn’t otherwise understand. Don’t worry though – although it has been going since February, there aren’t too many entries, and you can polish the whole thing off in 10-15 minutes flat. Which, I have to tell you, is an entirely delicious experience.

And don’t you dare start comparing it to Bridget Jones’ Diary, either. It is far, far better than that.

Sashinka reviews Julie Burchill Is Away, and almost persuades me that perhaps it's not worth seeing after all.

But not quite. Why has La Burchill always fascinated me so much? I've been reading her stuff ever since she joined the NME in Spring 1976. I even remember her very first NME singles review column, where she pitched straight in by describing a Gladys Knight single as "music to shave your legs to". I followed her to The Face (where she grew ever more brilliant), then despaired of her when she threw away her talent and went all Lynda Lee- Potter-ish, trotting out frightful Thatcherite Glenda Slag-isms for a succession of crappy right-wing Sunday rags.

And then, and then! Her glorious, triumphant renaissance in the pages of Guardian Weekend! Flagrant liberal-baiting par excellence, which is only enhanced by her thrilling refusal to do any form of background research whatsoever! Endless gratuitous mentions of The Spice Girls, as if they were all-encompassing cultural metaphors for our age! Which they are! Obviously!

I've given up cigarettes. I've given up pills. I've given up many things which are fun in the short term, but damaging in the long term. But I could never give up on Julie.

Pollock. Hmm, let’s see now. Tortured genius is taken in, nurtured and cared for by saintly, self-sacrificing partner, who selflessly dedicates her entire life towards helping him achieve his success. So much to relate to there. Hey, is it any wonder I loved this film?

But seriously. Once again, last week’s comment whoring has paid in spades. Pollock was, by turns: educational, beautiful, subtle, powerful, agonising, tender, human.

Next week: Sex And Lucia.

Social divisions. Last night, while K was wining and dining at Merchants, I was chowing down on reconstituted slurry at Macky D’s. Verily, he is the class, and I is da trash.

Oh please. An over-the-top, but enjoyable puff piece on the “new” Nottingham, for those of you who have never been. The Guardian once called us “The Milan Of The Midlands”, I’ll have you know!

Stuck on the subs' bench, between projects, with absolutely no work to do whatsover, this place has started to feel more like a day centre than an office. They give you a nice machine to play with all day - there are friendly people to chat to - there's tea and coffee whenever you want it - and it gets you out of the house and gives you something to do.

Daytime blogging as occupational therapy? You better believe it.

Just as "war is the continuation of politics by other means", so can hatred be a continuation of love by other means. In a relationship, indifference is the true passion killer.

Ooh, I'm feeling gnomic today!

Via Darren, I stumbled across www.astro.com - an astrological site that constructs a detailed analysis of your personality, based on the full details of your birth (including location, and the precise time of birth). This was no problem, as I know precisely what time of day I was born (“I remember it because I had to miss The Archers” said my mother – now there’s a guilt trip for you.)

Reading through the analysis that followed, I had rather an alarmingly high number of “Oh God! Yes! This is me!” moments. Let me share some of the highlights with you now (and apologies for some of the more blatantly flattering comments, but hey – know thyself).Well now. This is all very well, but astrology is – quite patently – complete and utter airy-fairy bobbins, and as such I refuse to imbue it with any credibility whatsoever.

So I had a thought. Why not create a wholly fictitious second character, and see how accurate his profile would be?

Enter “Steve”. Five years younger, birthday months away from my own, born on the other side of the world. And here are Steve’s “Yes! It’s me!” moments:Phew. I was worried for a moment back there. Astrology still bobbins. Can resume normal cynical life.

Yesterday, I forgot to include the link to the Big Brother/Britpop thingy over at New York London Paris Munich. Now rectified, or you can jump to it right here.

I really must comment-whore more often, if the last batch of responses is anything to go by. I have now bought both of the recommended CDs from my Wish List, and both are quite magnificent.

Although long aware of the cult status afforded to Jeff Buckley’s Grace, and despite loving his single Everybody Here Wants You, two words have always put me off further investigation: Led, and Zeppelin. I might be something of a recidivist prog-rocker, but I do have my boundaries – and Led Zep fall way beyond them. A horrible, screeching, vainglorious, empty rattle, if you ask me. So why do people persist in making such an inaccurate comparison? I suppose that on maybe two or three tracks, at the beginning and the end of the album, there are faint stylistic resemblances, but the emotion and the intent seem to me to come from somewhere else entirely. This is, above all, a raw and heartfelt album, with an emotional sweep which easily transcends all of Robert Plant’s breast-beating histrionics. The genre may be “old school”, but the effect is utterly timeless. I loved it after the first listen (as did K), and I am absolutely certain that I’ll be playing it for years to come. What’s more, I now know where Radiohead stole a lot of their best licks from. Well, well, well...

As for Danny Tenaglia’s Back To Basics double mix CD – it’s dance music at its finest, assembled by a master of the craft, which makes sense as home listening as well. Tenaglia has the good taste to feature one of the most sublime, deeply affecting pieces of house music ever made as the second track on the first CD (Dubtribe Sound System’s Do It Now), and from then on he can do no wrong. It’s not “progressive”, it’s not “tribal”, it’s not “tech-house” – it’s just glorious.

There are currently 181 Amazon.com customer reviews for The Best Of David Hasselhoff. Someone's having a larf. Oh, that would be me, right here, right now.
(via Quarsan)

Big Brother, as retrospectively transplanted onto mid-1990s Britpop. Absolutely spot on!

The novelty of having the entire day to piss around on the Internet on company time may well wear thin in a few days. For now though, it is sheer bliss. I have fully caught up with all the blogs on my sidebar (a rare event in itself), and have found a couple of great new ones to add: Yeah Totally (via Groc) and The Search For Love In Manhattan (via Choire East/West). I have marvelled at the sheer graphic gorgeousness of Remi's outstanding re-design at Idiote. I have worked my way through the charts at Daypop and Blogdex, chuckling along the way at www.introducingmonday.co.uk and paying particularly close attention to a lengthy pair of interviews with some “failed” Palestinian suicide bombers. I know all about the NPR linking controversy. I have read that hipster-conservative “screed” about draft dodging (funny, clever and assumption-challenging for most of the article, but then loses it badly at the end when the author attempts to go for the emotional jugular). Once again, I am a fully informed Netizen with his finger firmly on the pulse of the zeitgeist - for what that's worth. It’s a full time job though, innit?

All aboard the Meme Train!

According to Google, that all-seeing, all-knowing Giant Electronic Brain...

The Meaning Of Life Is...Serves me right for asking, really.

After three months of intensive labour, I now find myself back on the subs’ bench in the office, officially “between projects”. This is the happy upside of doing chargeable work for third party clients. I shall enjoy it while it lasts. Short days, long lunches, and pissing about on the Internet. What could be sweeter?

So what have I learnt from The Project From Hell?

As nearly all of my jobs in the past have been for “internal customers”, I have learnt a lot about managing relationships with clients. I have learnt how to establish a healthy working rapport with difficult, prickly people with whom I have precious little in common. I have learnt a lot about tact. I have learnt how to be flexible without being a doormat, and I have learnt how to be assertive without being a petulant prima donna. I have learnt a lot about effective teamwork in split geographical locations. I have discovered that prolonged hard work can in fact be invigorating and rewarding (yikes!), provided that I still feel in control of my destiny – otherwise, it becomes both exhausting and deeply unfulfilling.

I have learnt a lot of these lessons the hard way.

Essentially, I have learnt how to raise my game.

But was any of this worth learning in the first place?

The Troubled Diva Old Curiosity Box - Item 24.
The Wolfgang Press - Kansas (Assassination K./Kanserous) (1989)

Knowing full well that some of you are rather keen on all that 4AD stuff, I have been meaning to slip some 4AD into my curious old box for some time now. The rarer, the better, of course. So how about this extended 12" mix of Kansas? It's a two-part affair, starting with a lengthy instrumental intro before hitting the song proper. Turn-of-the-last-decade indie-disco par excellence; you can almost see the Robert Smith hairdos bobbing along in the half-light.

The Troubled Diva Old Curiosity Box - Item 25.
The Pop Group - She Is Beyond Good And Evil (1979)

A mould-breaking piece of plastic if ever there was one, this debut single from Bristol's The Pop Group stopped me dead in my tracks on the very first listen. Plenty of other post-punk acts went on to create similar fusions of heavy dub, funk, disco, avant-garde and krautrock (The Slits circa Cut, PiL circa Metal Box, A Certain Ratio, 23 Skidoo, Cabaret Voltaire...) but - for me at least - this tune pipped them all to the post.

For more in a similar vein, take a look at the recently released compilation In The Beginning There Was Rhythm.

Aside - The Pop Group endeared themselves to me when I saw them live at Alexandra Palace, one sunny weekend afternoon in 1980. As I recall, this was an open-air gig in support of the British Communist Party, with the rest of the line-up containing other post-punk luminaries such as The Slits (headlining), The Raincoats, John Cooper Clarke and Essential Logic. Halfway through the set, Pop Group front man Mark Stewart disappeared from the stage, and reappeared with a large framed colour photograph of Leonid Brezhnev (then president of the USSR). Fixing the audience with a stare, he announced: "The next song is dedicated to this man. It's called: For How Much Longer Must We Tolerate Mass Murder ?" The Soviet Union had, of course, invaded Afghanistan earlier in the year. If only briefly, the cosy consensus of the afternoon was smashed right through. Respect!

Update: Sorry - you weren't quick enough. These MP3s are no longer on my server. I generally make them available for a week or so (sometimes less) before substituting them for new ones. Better luck next time!

Revisiting my traffic ranking stats on info.alexa.com, I get quite excited for a minute or two. My site rating has apparently sky-rocketed: from 7,102,645th most popular website to 1,665th most popular website in less than two months. Whoa, way to go, suckers!

So then, already basking in superiority and seeking further confirmation, I start checking the rankings of some of my other favourite blogs. Sure enough, I am streets ahead of Blogadoon, Brainsluice, east coast/west coast, Fantabulosa, Leather Egg, Naked Blog, not.so.soft, Over Your Head, Prolific, Swish Cottage and Wherever You Are. My nearest rival is east coast/west coast, at a frankly pathetic #153,192.

I then turn to the really big stars of Blogland. Evhead is trailing at #71,830. Kottke languishes at #46,849. Andrew Sullivan fares slightly better, at #14,844. Doc Searls is better still, at #7,078. But these guys are clearly no competition for the global might of Troubled Diva. A-list? Pah! They need a new list, just for me!

However, I soon realise that I am far from alone at position #1,665. Instead, I am sharing it with Bboyblues, Brucehoax, Buni's, Dave In London, Distant Sun, Francis Strand, Hip To You, Life As It Happens, Sashinka, Sax and Sunshine, World Of Chig...hang on a minute! These are all Blogspot hosted blogs!

The penny drops. Oh well. Who needs these meaningless popularity contests anyway?

Well, slap me on the bottom and call me Meg! The comment whoring worked! I have now bought my copy of White Teeth - I shall be snatching K's copy of Carter Beats The Devil as soon as he has finished it - I have bookmarked the splendid My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts - I shall now cheerfully ignore Mozilla forthwith - I'll be snapping up Jeff Buckley's Grace and Danny Tenaglia's Back To Basics toute suite - and we'll be going to see Pollock as soon as K returns from Strasbourg. Thank you one and all.

As it’s nearly Glastonbury Festival time, you might enjoy reading author David Belbin’s five-part festival diary from 2000. It’s an unedited rough draft, which conveys the atmosphere of the event rather well in my opinion.

Many of the experiences he describes eventually found their way into his subsequent novel, Festival, which is set at Glasto 2000 and comes highly recommended (it’s primarily aimed at teenagers, but is still a cracking good read, whatever your age). Plus he’s one of my oldest friends, and it’s high time I plugged him.

All things must pass. Including The Project From Hell, which has been increasingly dominating my life since early April. My involvement officially ends on Friday, and I have already started to wind down the work. No more long hours, no more stress, and best of all - no more Portakabins. Praise be!

Last Saturday's Guardian Weekend food pages were quite, quite mad - albeit in the nicest possible way.

Firstly: Matthew Fort's review of a restuarant called Juniper, in Altrincham (Cheshire), which began thus:All I can say is - I have to go.

Secondly: Guardian Weekend's cookery columnist Heston Blumenthal is, um, eccentric and impractical at the best of times, but this recipe for chips (French Fries) has to be one of his classics: