Mmm, I believe you’re thinking of Howard. Les was from the Wiltshire branch of the family.

Les Negresses Vertes under N, obviously. Les is his first name.

Thanks – that’s absolutely bloody lovely.

The opening sentence of Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar” does it for me. Time, place and mood wrapped up in 22 words. “It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know […]

I bet you can let a good one off, though.

Ace

My dad was a cracking whistler and no mean pocket-change rattler, often simultaneously and usually on his way up or down a garden path.

I always had a soft spot for the rather moving “All The Men Are Hungry”. Seemed to encapsulate all those missed chances and regrets and slightly elusive memories.

Christ, I can’t take any more of this. It was fun until Moose woke up.

Arse Man Arse Biscuit. Before Moose says it.

It took me a while, sal, but Les Soeurs etc is genius.

Cripes, I think I’ve done ten years. Not so active recently, but I vividly remember some cracking spats involving Faux Geordie, Ianess, Bob, Niscum etc. “Whatever happened to … all the Shakespearoes?” Hannah, […]

Thanks. It’s the blue highlights, maybe.

You can hear the Roy Wood influence on that one.

Looking at these selections – f**k me, I’m old. And it’s only just happened, you know, recently. “…and the bells were ringing out for Christmas day…”

Is there gas in the car?

Ah right. No, I work for a completely different company – Waterstones, with no apostrophe. I’ve encountered – as customers – Annabel Croft, John Gordon Sinclair, Virginia McKenna, Bruce Foxton and Dylan Moran, […]

Who were you bookselling for, if you don’t mind me asking?

Indeed, he was on the original studio recording of JCS, its very first iteration in 1970, in the role of Caiaphas.