I was thinking last night about the first time I saw The White Stripes. It was spring 2001, and I was in LA to interview Queens Of The Stone Age. The night before I met up with Josh Homme, I went to the Troubadour to see this duo who were just starting to be talked about a lot by some of the smarter music business people back home.

I was thinking last night about the first time I saw The White Stripes. It was spring 2001, and I was in LA to interview Queens Of The Stone Age. The night before I met up with Josh Homme, I went to the Troubadour to see this duo who were just starting to be talked about a lot by some of the smarter music business people back home.

... Or: Where's this year's Great American Indie flick?

I know this is going to sound a bit churlish, but is it wrong to expect a very good band to really extend themselves? I ask because, for the past week or so, I've been playing the new Super Furry Animals album most days. It's lovely, without a doubt. But for some reason, it leaves me fractionally disappointed - as if them coming up with another 11 fine songs is somehow not quite good enough.

White talks to Uncut about being half Scottish and making songs with just a box of matches and a screwdriver

Smith talks to Uncut about second album nerves

Apologies for the lack of blogging action these past couple of days. I have a stack of excuses - perilous deadlines, aborted radio interviews, leaving the Super Furry Animals album at home, that sort of thing, as if you care. I'll try and write something about Super Furry Animals' "Hey Venus" in the next couple of days, as well as Richard Hawley, Caribou, Rilo Kiley, that Jason Isbell record I've been meaning to do something about for a month, and so on.

First UK festival in 31 years for the patron saints of rock

I’ve just finished reading Nick Tosches’ Hellfire, a jaw-dropping biography of Jerry Lee Lewis that is by common agreement the best book about rock’n’roll ever written. I’m reviewing it for next month’s Uncut, and can’t recommend it highly enough.

Been a bit distracted today, as I've been engaged in a Sisyphean task to try and compile all the catalogue numbers of the Factory label, including the cat, Rob Gretton's dental work and so on. Further to my Robert Wyatt review yesterday, I now have a fraction more info to flesh out my impressions.