Luke just wrote, in the form of a text message:

“Haha, we just saw a 20 foot effigy of Charles Clarke being dragged of to be burned.
x”

Me, I’ve been locked down in the Townhouse Studios, Shepherd’s Bush, with James and Emile – since 1ish – making musics. MUSICS! We had 20 odd kids come in and sing the hook of Back In The Day and that was awesome. I waved my pen at them. I got them to power-croon. They were all like, “who’s James Brown?” One knew. The smallest. 6? Something. He said, “GEDDUP!” And he was right. Then they were all, “what’s Beach Boys?” Then, “what’s crooning?”

It was amazing. Some of those kids could rule the world. They were amazing. There was this one little dude, all of three and a half foot, full of love and joy, robot dancing and beatboxing and rapping in a purple velour Snoop Dogg tracksuit. These kids killed it. I didn’t have to say anything. They ruled.

Jeres is in right now, lacing this intenselty lush guitar solo.

I’ve been fucking with V on this one. Serious! Makes you well. 100%! All Natur El. Emile isn’t feeling the celery. Fuck that. Raw like sushi. And!

Today I am mad handsome. Serious! I love it when that happens. I don’t know why it does. I don’t control that shit. I mean, I have been rocking water. Helps. On and off with the scissors. On. Off. Up. Down. Aggadabosh.

I am meant to do an Undercover cover shoot at midday tomorrow. But I am also meant to be in the studio. Priorities, getme?

Sometimes it is the mind, sometimes it is the ass. I strive for harmony.

This tune, is mind, and ass. I will make sense of this all yet.

Hey! Crazy Nazi Olsen twins update!

— Saturday, November 5th, 2005

So, last night I was kind of hungover, until the sheer might of the combined power of my band blew away those boozey cobwebs and our rehearsal, amongst other things, gave birth to the best version of …AIDS there has thusfar been.

Had a drink with Jeremy afterwards, who has quit his 60 a day fag habbit, and is veering between despair and elation and rage on a five minutely basis. We discussed. It was good. Then I went back to my so called home and could not get in, so I slept in the shed until Robert got back from boozing in town. Today I fell off the roof twice, in distinctly unheroic Spider-man break-in attempts, after the key Robert gave me to my so-called home got broke in the lock. All the rubbish that’s collected in the front of the house in my absence broke my fall.

I just signed 1000 seven inches, and now I am off to see Mary and Jeremy and Wataru and rehearse. Tomorrow, we record kiddie choir for Back In The Day. I like kiddies lots and lots.

— Friday, November 4th, 2005

So, presumably all you Merkins walked out of school, or work, today, in protest of the BushCorp Mega-Genoicide Machine. Good for you! Those that haven’t, walk now! Walking rules! It is good for one’s arse.

HOT 97 were gonna play this advert for the walkout, right, and mere seconds before it aired, evilscumcorp Emmis Communications, owners of the NY rap station, pulled the plug. Them’s worried, evidently. FOOLS! SWINE! HAve at them with sticks!

So, one of my peoples just emailed me, saying:

Your promo is for sale on the bay of E.
Link.

I can’t say that I’d wouldn’t love to own this, but I’m not sure that it’s ethically correct. Can I buy one from you direct?!!”

Well, I personally don’t have any promos, so no. I hadn’t even seen one till just! It is very pretty, eh? In that generic, promo fashion. And just 99p! Bargainous!

Anyway, as a former music journalist who supplemented his income for years with the illegal sales of promo CDs on the internet, I can hardly object. So buy, buy, buy. Then you can buybuybuy the proper thing on November 1st cos it’s got a beautiful sleeve what I drewed.

YES!

— Wednesday, November 2nd, 2005

I write this from The Owl And The Pussycat, on East London’s Redchurch Street. I remember Jeffrey Bernard always used to go on about how the Coach And Horses was his office. All his phonecalls went there, and he’d spend a little time, between cursing the barstaff and telling tall tales, scribbling witticisms on napkins. Now I sit here tapping into my laptop and uploading songs to my MySpace page. Truly, we are living in the future.

Writing that immediately makes me think too, of how we are living in the past, or at leas how certain fake-Christian fundamentalist freakoes are trying to send us back there. But I’ll not continue on that thread right now. I have a whisky and a cigarette and a packet of cashews, and Ah Ha are on the jukebox. Right now I like this bubble, and I want no meanness in it.

So, I was asked by Miscreant to list my current top ten tunes. This was at about 2 am last night, well, this morning, and they were these.

Oh, and my lovely press lady Rhiannon pointed this in my direction today. A virtual hotel full of nutbars! Safe!

Right, Trey just turned up, so I shall peace out.

PEACE OUT!

— Tuesday, November 1st, 2005