Above is the cover of the Achuzat edition of my novel about literary forgery The Pretender, copies of which arrived this morning. What’s that parrot about? Think about it for a minute – the narrator’s first significant literary forgery is accomplished on a 1920’s Royal typewriter. My first novel in Hebrew! After Tuesday’s lousy effort at photographing Broken Social Scene (see below) I didn’t take my camera to Jackson Browne and David Lindley on Thursday. I was reviewing the penultimate show on their European tour for the Nottingham Evening Post. I’d seen the second show on the tour, and it was OK, but shambolic in places. The gig never really took off, and Browne refused to play the song that I named the novel after…

I don’t often review gigs, but it seems appropriate in this week of not writing a Glasto diary that I’m doing two. This is a longer, slightly more personalised version of a piece that will appear in tomorrow’s Nottingham Evening Post. I took the arty photo above myself. If it’s any good, that’s a complete accident. Broken Social Scene are a collective from Toronto whose members have previously included Lesley Feist and Emily Haines. They play near grungy, avant garde rock with the occasional hint of prog. They’re at their best on their self-titled 2005 album and 2003’s classic You Forgot It In People, both heavily represented tonight. Their last visit to the Rescue Rooms, just over four years ago, was an outstanding two hours…

For those happening on this post because they’ve come to check out the new song of the week, you’ll find two new mp3s below and several more over the last three posts. This is an anniversary repost of my Glastobury 2000 diary, which appeared on my original, long deleted website. At the end of this final post, there’s a post script saying that the novel I was researching there has been commissioned. It was, indeed, published the following summer, although there was no Glastonbury that year. I also promise that I’ll write a diary about writing the novel. I never did. Perhaps, when I’ve got time,  I’ll add a few reflections on the novel and Glastonbury. Meanwhile, here’s the final diary entry from ten years…

Here’s the third part of my tenth anniversary repost of the Glastonbury journal that appeared on my old website ten years ago today, with four relevant mp3s to download at the bottom. PART 3 – Friday. Most common sound heard at Glasto after a mobile phone rings: “Hello, Mum.” It rained on and off in the night. I gave up trying to stay asleep at quarter to nine, made myself a cup of tea. I had a Frusli bar for breakfast (boring but nourishing). I put on my wellies and my heavily mud spattered Diesel jeans, then went for a wash and a pee before setting off for the Welfare tent, a long trudge away. I got there early and waited while head of Welfare,…