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I have no idea how the Followills sit down. Or move. Or get their trousers zipped.
Arctic Monkeys mentor McClure puts on a show of self-confidence that makes the cocksure, swaggering Johnny Borrell look like Woody Allen. He turned his mike lead into a gun, pow-powing the audience, and shadow-boxed during the instrumentals like Ali before the rumble in the jungle. In between songs, he spewed out poetry that could well have come straight from the crib sheet of his hero, John Cooper Clarke. The band's intelligent funk-punk was like the best Ian Brown solo stuff, but with more intelligible vocals.
Better than: Anything the Stone Roses did after their first album.
Worse than: Seeing the Stone Roses for those brief few months when they were really as good as everyone says they were.
DESIGNERS at Prada and Luis Vuitton would be tearing their hair out if they saw their bags being soaked by a Scots rock band.
But thankfully for The View, management at the new Mulberry store on Ingram Street didn't mind the Dundee band's champagne exploits.
The rockers shook a fizzed-up bottle and ended up spraying it over designer handbags and guests at the shop openingin Glasgow.
At least five bags were splashed, however management laughed it off as "the most rock 'n' roll launch we've ever done", despite an estimated £5000 worth of damage.
Manchester never knew how much it would miss Tony Wilson. Yesterday, beneath a grey northern sky, the city's sense of loss for the man who had been the life and soul of its party for so many years was clear.
Family and friends of the man known as "Mr Manchester" attended a private funeral ceremony at St Mary's Roman Catholic Church, known as the Hidden Gem, in the city centre.
Fans gathered outside the church to pay their final respects to the founder of Factory Records and the Haçienda nightclub.
A roll call of famous Mancunians turned out to remember Wilson, a champion of the city, who died earlier this month, aged 57, after a prolonged battle with kidney cancer. They included the Happy Mondays frontman Shaun Ryder and New Order and Joy Division bassist Peter Hook, whose bands were key to the Factory Records success story.
Peter Saville, who co-founded the iconic record label with Wilson, gave a reading during the mass. So too did Richard Madeley, who worked alongside Wilson at Granada Television, and arrived at the service with his wife Judy Finnigan.
After the service, which included the hymns "Hail Queen of Heaven" and "To Be A Pilgrim", six pallbearers, including Wilson's son, carried the coffin out of the church to the sound of the Happy Monday's track "Bob's Your Uncle".
"In the late 70s there were quite a lot of arty, lower middle class, catholic Manchester grammar school boys. Some of them tried to form bands; others (me) just bought records and listened to them. Tony was the apotheosis of those baby boomers who wanted to reach beyond their background and find the poetry in this post-industrial landscape. He gave confidence and legitimacy to an army of haltingly insecure men. Put simply, he showed it wasn't poofy to wear nice clothes and use long words. But above all he was a true civic champion, who found excitement and creativity on his own doorstep. Under his stewardship, Manchester became and still is an alternative metropolis. That is his legacy.
She Bangs the Drums