FOUR ROCK 'N' ROLL ARSEHOLES
In an epic of tedium lasting, seemingly, all night long, Sunday 14th June, BBC 4, Paul Weller, the sage of Woking, talked lovingly of his hair, his clothes and himself.
Featuring his shouty songs, his shouty mates and his shouty Dad/Manager, Weller senior - a ghastly mongrel cross between Ronnie Kray and Malcolm McLaren - the ModFather relates the aritistic struggle of an Estuary Narcissuss, revealing how, after years of producing boring shouty drivel, he has now reached a high plateau of critical acceptance by immature, shouty cockneys. And become the knitwear industry's Man of the Millenium.
The whole, uncritical fanzine is rendered worthwile by a five second clip of Lord Windbag, in his rock 'n' roll days, grandstanding in front of a bunch of pasty, fuckwit musos,"united" "against" "Thatcher" in the democratic pursuit of increased album sales. I'd just like to say, quips Kinnock, that Red Wedge is not the name of my hairstyle. Bless.
Daily Telegraph readers will be disappointed that Lord Billy Bragg, pictured next to Mayor Ken, features only barely in this Saga of Mod and thankfully without his atonal tinny guitar of Socialist Reform, the cunt.
Tearing himself away from his hairdryer, the mature Weller confesses that he now realises that politicians are all just in it for themselves. There is, as we often reflect, no business like showbusiness.
Old Paul is much loved by the schedulers at the Beeb and The Weller rockumentary will be repeated endlessly. It is well worth avoiding.