Season's greetings

Hello. The clocks have gone back, the rain's pissing down and the heating's off. Yes, it could be better but who gives one?

I'm in Seven Sisters with the boys holed up in my nice big bed in my nice big house writing a blog- it could be a lot worse. Anyway the winter really is closing in. You know there's a point every year when suddenly you're wandering about town at 5am off your face as usual and the cold really starts to be a pain? I had this uniquely British experience whilst trapsing across the darker dark alleys in Brixton a fortnight ago, aimlessly trying to make it to a Subway, or a PFC (Perfect Fried Chicken for the uninitiated).

I got back to north London eventually. It only took me two days, four car rides, two buses, a train and two tube journeys but I got there, last week's shepherd's pie in hand (cheers mum). As long and winding drunk nights go I guess this was up there, but I did get a free phone along the way which eased my nerves a little.

Still, two things are on my mind this month. Unsurprisingly they both concern music. Firstly I'd like to use this forum to voice some opinions on Alan Yentob's account of Jay-Z on the BBC this week. Not really sure why the beeb let old Alan out to shadow the world's greatest ever rapper but it seemed to work; if it didn't really tell us more than we already knew about Sean Carter. Came from Brooklyn, makes tunes, got loads of cash. Still, any documentary about pop culture is going to be able to pull at the strings of nostalgia in all of us relatively easy, and it was no different here.

A whole smorgasboard of Jay-Z's best anthems would have almost evoked the same reaction in 99 per cent of the programme's viewers but the nagging timeline of the icon's epoch-defining gig at Glastonbury provided a glacial backdrop to endless snaps of Alan looking more than a little out of his depth at various hip-hop howdowns. I doubt he could've looked more out of place if he'd worn a white hood and a pitchfork but it was good entertainment.

And when your docu subject's Jay-Z you really should be pedalling the minimum wage because the man is such a monolith of modern zeitgeist you can hand-pick from any number of raps, tunes, pics, quotes and general too-fucking-cool-for-school poses that'd have Madonna desperately voguing at bus shelters for attention. The man is pure genius- I didn't know there were hairs on my forehead but they stood to attention when 99 Problems bellowed out from Glasto's hallowed Peaveys. A proper legend.

Secondly, let me congratulate The Kills on their album Midnight Boom- it's neck and neck with Fantasy Black Channel for my favourite album of the year, and may well overtake it if I keep on playing it as much as I have at the moment. In particular Last Day of Magic is one of those fantastically brooding and misanthropic records that defines a band of The Kills' ilk. Menacing, probing and downright dirty flaxen notes booming from Jamie Hince's battered guitar while Alison pouts for America make for a perfect couple. It's just one of those songs that really pleases as you can kind of tell (I hope not) that it will be their best.

I'm going to start writing more of this crap in the coming weeks as, with the internet being fitted in my house, I don't even need to get out of bed to scribe all the drivel spewing out of my limp mind. Good for me, not so for everyone (anyone) reading.

Hasta luego