Let's be frank, I have about as much time for the quirky, the wacky, the zany, the madcap as….I dunno….Pol Pot, Stalin, Genghis Khan, Vlad the Impaler, Mark K-Punk. To me, They Might Be Giants are an evil roughly on the same scale as Hitler. At night I dream of an alternative Universe, ruled over by a benign deity, in which Bogshed never existed.

I also have no time whatsoever for faux Outsider idiot-savantery of any order, or genuine Outsider idiot-savantery for that matter. And while Dan Deacon (of the deeply irritating-looking “ Wham City Crew") would appear to be a self-unstyled sweatyfatnutjob of the very kookiest order you certainly shouldn’t let that put you off his album, the deeply unamusingly titled “Spiderman of the rings” (old news to many I’m sure, out last year) an utterly scintillating slice of spangled, rushy ravetronica. Some kind of weird combination of kraut and ‘ardcore, Terry Riley meets the Prodigy circa Jilted Generation, Black Moth gone gabba. It can’t be that good! It is. It’s as good as, say, La Dusseldorf.

I reckon that when Bush does finally get ousted the US is up for a Summer of Love.

Might have to get myself over there….

….ah no, that’s right. I’m a miserable bastard.