Taking the lead from the finest journalistic institution ever to grace this isle [the News Of The World], I have decided it's the right and honourable thing to name and shame all known paedophiles within the music industry... On second thoughts, it would take up too much column space.

Anyways, in the last month I have been strewn across the globe like a discarded crisp packet in the wind. Highlights of these adventures included my discovery that fireflies are not a fairy tale and that in Louisville certain insects are larger than most mammals in Lanarkshire. Also that in Japan their roadsigns alerting drivers to the dangers of wayward monkeys is similar to those we have in Britain for deer, so there you go. My holiday to America and our musical excursion to Japan was a veritable pick'n'mix of joy, excitement, confusion and neurosis, so I'll pick the least snide and tell you all. You lucky bastards!!! [He Jests.]

An insight into the Japanese psyche can be made simply by examining their interpretation of Western song lyrics in their vibrant karaoke culture. When we immersed ourselves in this most surreal situation, some of their pronouncements spoke volumes. Attend hither!!! In English, the lyrics to Led Zepplin's 'Black Dog' read, "I don't know but I've been told a beatnik woman ain't got no soul". This is a tad shady anyways, but in Japan they're "I don't know but I've been told a big-legged woman ain't got no soul". Holy fuck. That's not all, on Guns N'Roses' seminal hit 'Welcome To The Jungle', Axl goes, "We're gonna make you scream". But in Japan he utters, "We're gonna make youse cream". A subtle but importan differnce. The first line to 'California Dreamin'' in Japan goes, "Although these are crowns". This would probably have amused me as much as it did my muckers had I known what the line actually was.

The best folks to play at Fuji Rock Festival [why we were there] were Primal Scream, SFA and Aphex Twin [bass made me spew]. That review was quick.

My time in Chicago was evenly spread between making tea with a frying pan and heavy drinking sessions with local musicians. Nice. Saw Tortoise play a set of new sogs under the name of WoodCult, which was tremendous.

Proof that music has a way of summing up nations came into full effect when we arrived back in Glasgow airport after a marathon 23-hour flight [Concorde wasn't available funnily enough]. Via piped muzak, we were greeted by the frighteningly apt words from Scotland's finest, Del Amitri - "nothing ever happens". Too fucking right. Come on kids, please make something happen. Anything apart from The Wonder Stuff's recent reformation will suffice. PLEASE!!!

A jenny long legs has let its presence be known upon my screen, thus marking my time to leave. Home for a month so expect more coherence soon. Stay good. Don't tolerate pish.

WORD OF THE MONTH: ped-rast

Stuart x