…to be honest, I had a bit of rethink / change of heart on the records I was going to place at # 1, and I don’t currently have the time to unpack my feeling about them in any meaningful fashion – so basically, I’m not going to bother.

I won’t retrospectively edit the preceding posts or anything, but perhaps let’s just consider all the numbers shifted up one – cos let’s face it, nothing deserves to beat that Nigerian rock comp.

Meanwhile, I’m about to start work on my usual “best new records” list, and there is lots and lots of fantastic stuff that I need to cover on it, almost all of which I have neglected to write any words about at an earlier point in the year. I’ve got to fit it all somehow betwixt freelance work deadlines and family/social engagements however, so please expect things to drag on way into January at best. Last time I checked, records by contemporary musical units don’t turn into pumpkins at midnight on New Year’s Eve, so hopefully it won’t be too late for me to try to sell you on some good stuff you may have overlooked.

(Boy, I’ll bet you don’t get this kind of crap on Pitchfork, do you – come what may, I’ll always have my amateurism!)

Prior to all that however, I should note that this Saturday will find me standing behind a table at this record fair hosted by my favourite new London record shop in my favourite new music-focused London community space.



I’ll be manning my wife’s stall, and also flogging some choice mix CDs and VHS movies on a “name yr price” basis for the benefit of charity (a fairly marginal benefit, I’ll be the first to admit, but what the hell – it’s something). If you still read these benighted pages and find yourself in the neighbourhood, pop in and say ‘hi’. It’ll be lovely.

Labels: apologies, blather, lameness, plugs, self promotion