Robbie or Take That

Beatles or the Stones, Oasis or Blur, Spandau or Duran Duran, Robbie or Take That or Robbie and Take That. Rock battles, pop battles, tabloid news, a national debate. A nation cared for a week or two and life was better for the banter.

Will he wont he......Modern questions morphed by commercialism, fiendship or friendship or just growing older.

"We're putting the bad back together" Jake or was it Elwood said for charity, well now there is thousand and one reasons that one bif one has dollar, euro, signs ringing round them as if singing a tune The Charity of us.

Robbie or take that ....We can have both.

Saw Doctors

N19 - a road story hewn from a homely strain.

Celtic rock may have had more famous exponents, but for me the crack or craic of Celtic Rock fell upon the Saw Dooctors although thankfully not falling through.

Classic tunes brought smiles as lyrics could be heard and heartily chanted, early albums boomed large whilst later albums may not quite have such charm, but I like them too much to admit and I take it back and cross my heart and hope to die.

I bought several T-shirts to go along with the albums, compilations and cuddly toys if they had sold them too.

A fan

Kylie

Growing old can be a challenge as brain cells, confuse not just names, but birthdays, anniversaries and probably how much money a beer used to cost. But back in the day when pop was dominated by a threesome who talked of a Brit Motown, but never quite made it to shorten Motor to Mo, althouhgh it was probably a case of shortening Scooter to Scoo in global significane and still never made it.

But through the factory production came Kylie. A disposable poppet riding fame of a soap without attitude but plenty of accent.

And then in a matter of years, she traded polo necks for low cut, and rara skirts were redesigned to shorts that tested stiching and to lycra that came with a warning about parental guidance. And became an icon.....known by a first name. Poppet was a pop icon.

Still going strong, too.

Estropa

Straddling the divide between rock, rap and flamenco; and somehow coming out with something worthy of purchase, I give you Estropa.


A fusion that warmed the cockles of mi corazon.


A going native of the foreigner abroad, where musical pleasure was forsaken for fitting in and applauding the local talent. Complimenting mildly as the locals enthused of what can nastily be described by clinking keys randomly and froightening a cat to vocalise enthusiastically. But it changed to musical pleasure while also fitting in.

Estropa were and are damn good.