binge magazine - it's over-everything

Binge magazine is for everyone who thinks that too much is never enough.

Binge magazine is and does over-everything.

It will feature the overweight, the overpaid and the overdrugged.

It loves notoriety, greed, superfluous consumption and willy-nilly backstabbing.

BINGE MAGAZINE: never knowingly undersouled

new from the from the hungover recesses of a lost soul

'reader, i licked him'

mmm jane eyre stamps for world book day!

librarian girl

niall bought me this in new york. i nearly died with happiness. naturally i'm probably most suited to life in the library. dusty walls of books, the only sound the scratch of a nib on paper, linen jackets slipping between each other, silence and order. study. this doesn't mean i'm going to go out and start lending books all over london, though, just live out my librarian fantasies in the comfort of my bedroom in the company of de Beauvoir and Plath.

it's my party

more acts have just been added to the line-up for April's ATP festival. so far it's looking far too entertaining - pj harvey, lydia lunch, peaches, suicide...

but isn't atp meant to be earnest, worthy, boring and confusing (as in 'what???')? the highlight of last year (weeekend 1, not the 'ladies' day') was the 24-hour Queen vic pub which saw proper indie discos hook up after the bands unplugged. that's what it's all about.

all sexed down

oh david sexton, one day we will meet and you can tell me ALL about it. no one can be this BITTER, this JOYLESS, this DEFEATIST and ELITIST - i hope. i pick up your newspaper with a wry smile every monday, knowing that once the rest of the news is through and laura craik's had her say on what to wear this week, i still have you to look forward to. monday 14th june west end final page 69. your look says 'yes, you would think so, wouldn't you', not scowling or serious, you sigh across the arts. a sigh that wheezes, 'this is as good as it gets, readers.' although you would never address your readers so directly. i mean, you probably find this terribly crass, don't you?

your best piece last year (ever) was on jessica, the original and prolific bookslut. why? because by covering the literary blogger you hinted that publishing has a future. that books have a place in this world beyond amazon. this singular interview; enthusiastic, optimistic and inspiring (YES, YES you can be ALL THESE THINGS david), won me over (hear my cliches, how you disapprove!).

for me, the future of literary journalism, if there is to be one, must be manifested in a progression beyond the traditional review/interview format. in today's paper a boxed review of Nick Hornby's The Polysyllabic Spree is highlighted on the front page of the arts section. fine. i think. Hornby - native londoner, already overexposed and growing complacent, as his last bloated work demonstrated, but ok, i see what you've done here. the paperback is published by an imprint of the ambitious and earnest young new york journal the believer, edited by vendela vida. how did you describe it, david? '... a division of McSweeney's, the publishing enterprise that believes if you can't say anything nice about books, say nothing at all.' i know you only reviewed Hornby to get this 'dig' in. McSweeney's/McSmug - whatever.

the book world is small. small enough for our paths to cross sooner or later. until next week.

footsie

finding their feet

back in 2004 IDM's original boy band, the Wheels Instead of Hooves collective rolled dejectedly into early retirement. on the cusp of a mid-20-something wilderness of party debts and mcjobs, it looked as though the end was nigh - they'd run out of ideas, patience, and - perhaps most crucially - decent talent to showcase.

now, just three years after the boistrous absurdity of their london debut, they're making a comeback, first in NYC, then in March at their Islington townhouse, Elektrowerkz.

me and my band - march 2002

redwood lustre shimmer

I glance across the rows non-committedly. Hmmm. Too many to choose from.
'Can I help you?'
'Er, yes. I'm looking for some red lipstick. Not really red. Well, dark red.'
'Do you want a sheer look or a matt? We have several...'
She selects a tube of waxy camouflage from the rows stacked like Battleship pins.
I've already made a decision based on an assesment of the price list. I am going to buy something. Anything. Berry Boost. Lady Danger.

...

the first thing i did was reach for something on my bookshelf. nancy pearl's book lust for the neatness of its lists and categories and geoffrey grigson's faber anthology of love poems for some attempt at vicarious articulation. which failed, obivously.