Pet musical peeves.

“What kind of music do you like?” Fuck. Who can answer a question like that? I HAVE FUCKING THOUSANDS OF ALBUMS, MOTHERFUCKER. IF YOU

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God is a Guardian reader

(Or the other way around!) Keith Cameron wrote earlier this year in the Grauniad of all places about the re-release after twenty years of

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Brucie Teardrop.

Back in my day, Bruce Springsteen was a ridiculously mainstream live rocker made pop star with “Born In The USA” and its ilk. I’d

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Review: Kim Salmon, E(a)rnest

Long term fans of Mr Salmon’s heavier works may have been in the main disappointed by the musical detours of recent years (a subject he actually canvases on this album), but nevertheless respect was always due for the fact he had decided to go his own way rather than merely retread the past.

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Classic power ballads.

When the adolescent males have slammed, stagedived and pogoed their little hearts out to your fast ones, going up to four (or even five) chords (on acoustic, of course) with that big, slow “thump … tha-THUMP … thump … tha-THUMP” drum line will cement your cred as a truly great writer of truly moving songs and not just another spandex-clad, fretwanking attention-seeker searching the front row for male adulation and female lust dumb enough to lead to a night with you.

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