Monday November 6th 2000

Dear World,

It had been made abundantly clear to me that it really is just me that doesn’t much care for Radiohead. All my friends seem to like them, even John Peel has started playing them, and people have pointed out to me that “at least they promote experimentation and intelligence, Dickon… there are worst targets for your vitriol. What is your problem? It only reflects badly on you. You’re just jealous of their worldwide success and the reverential consensus they inspire. And it’s all very well writing cowardly entries in your online diary. I bet if you met one of them in person you’d see just how wonderful they are. Shame on you.”

So this week, at an aftershow party for the Magnetic Fields, I stand in one place for too long and therefore qualify for shaking the hand of Colin Greenwood, the bassist and official Nicest Man In Rock. And he is, of course, perfectly charming. I try to blurt out something about how can his group be anti-corporate when they’re signed to EMI, and he replies that it’s about reaching the masses. It’s the same explanation as Chumbawamba (who I do care for) and I can’t argue with that. Just as well he didn’t phrase it as the old interview cliche “we just do what we do and if anyone else likes it it’s a bonus….” It’s not, after all, their fault that they’ve created a monster that can’t help but guzzle column inches, record and ticket sales and has set the rules for all current guitar-based groups to conform to and be compared to if they’re going to get anywhere. Fair enough. I concur to this.

And so, I’m loath to quote that sleeve note from Tom Lehrer: “if anyone objects to any statement I make, I am quite prepared not only to retract it, but also to deny under oath that I ever made it in the first place.”

There. Now, O Gentlemen of the British Press (a contradiction in terms, but still), as I’ve paid my respects to your Sacred Cow / Golden Calf (delete as applicable), any chance of mentioning that the new Fosca album, “On Earth To Make The Numbers Up”, is out? Not euphemistically “exclusively available via the Internet” (though you can buy it from Amazon.co.uk or the Shinkansen website , and sundry online shops), but actually on sale on the shelves of all the proper shops like Virgin Megastore and HMV, as well as the usual indie outlets. Which is far more than my last record, with Orlando, managed. Orlando had a fair amount of press coverage in an inverse proportion to availability of the actual records, and now, it transpires, the reverse is true with Fosca. You can buy it, but the press refuse to mention it’s even out.

The UK music press tends to have a political bent leaning towards the left, presumably agreeing with the concept of the redistribution of wealth. But in this media-saturated age, people have to realise that part of the world’s wealth isn’t just money, it’s publicity. And there’s a severe imbalance. Radiohead and others have been made the Millionaires Of Coverage, while Fosca are paupers, kicked down and denied even a few scraps from the deadline table. And there’s no Robin Hood figure to balance things out a little, to steal just one sentence from the rich- any of countless that refer to “Kid A – their lowest profile album yet… exclusive interview- their only one this year, except for all the other ones in every other publication”… and give to poor Fosca, threadbare in their reviewless rags. No reviews, not even bad ones, not even a single mention that “On Earth” even exists.

This is despite Shinkansen sending out umpteen copies to every vaguely receptive hack under the sun. And despite numerous follow-up calls and emails to said writers. No replies, no acknowledgement. And so, as might happen to yourself if no one returned your calls, my mind races within the realms of extreme paranoia. Is there a conspiracy? Did I offend some movers and shakers in particular that they’ve seen fit to put Fosca on some kind of blacklist?

Wait a minute, now I get it…. they’re deliberately making me paranoid so that the next Fosca album will only be able to resemble… “OK Computer.” And then they’ll review it.

My New Defensive Epitaph:

Here Lies Dickon Edwards
Space Did Not Permit.

“Oh well, there’s always reincarnation”

I’m overdoing it a little. The album did solicit two reviews in the UK press. Gay Times’ one consisted entirely of quotes from the lyric sheet (is this a record? can I invoice them?). While Uncut magazine called me…a gay virgin. Which really says more about them than me. But I am proud of the album, and want people to know about it, hence this little drama queen tantrum. It’s a good album. It comes complete with no duet with Thom Yorke. But please don’t hold that against it.

Oh, and the Magnetic Fields show was terrific, by the way.