The Swedish radio programme I was interviewed for – a special on Sarah Records by P3 Pop – is online here.

I’m told it was broadcast on 19th Nov and will remain online for another week or so.

This Year’s Model, whose album booklet features stories by Vic Godard, Jessica Griffin and myself, has just been given a very nice review at Indiepages.com.

Here’s a scanned version of that Dagens Nyheter interview, which appeared in October. DN is Sweden’s biggest selling morning newspaper.

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Have installed an imaginary word-processing filter that automatically deletes any sentences smacking of self-pity. Which explains the gap in recent diary entries.

Still, it’s something many diarists and bloggers could do with. I believe one’s moans and gripes can indeed be lanced by writing them down; it’s publishing them for others to read that’s unnecessary. So I now use my Silvine Exorcise Books for that sort of thing. Get it down, and get it out. Then write something people might actually be interested in reading.

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A: The trouble is, every time I sit down to write, the Microsoft Paperclip pops up and says, ‘You appear to be steeped in your own suppurating self-pity. Would you like some help?’

***

Fed up of missing things due to feeling too ill or too tired. Last straw has to be missing the Puppini Sisters video shoot, in which I was going to be an extra. Kicked myself for pulling out of that one, particularly as extra work is one job where disguising your tiredness and ailments is fairly easy to do, what with all the time spent doing nothing.

So, doubly keen to vanquish the dreaded IBS pains, I’ve now switched to a vegan-esque dairy-free, caffeine-free, gluten-free, every-bloody-thing-free diet. It means a lot of munching on rice cakes, a food which my mother accurately describes as ‘amiable polystyrene’.

Find it strange to read that raw fruit and veg are considered avoidable in some anti-IBS diets. Smoothies and cooked vegetables are actually preferable to the fresh stuff, when encouraging the entrails to recover. It seems there really is no such thing as a universal ‘good for you’ food.

Well, apart from water. That’s one thing people pretty much agree on, despite what WC Fields said.

The first time I tasted soya milk, at the age of 18 or so, I instantly said a prayer for all the masochists who drink the stuff out of choice. Now my taste buds have altered to the point where I really don’t mind it either way. Which is just as well.

Peppermint tea is the other staple of this new regime, but is surprisingly easy to get in cafes. Including the BFI Imax cafe, the British Museum cafe, and even Munchkins, the touristy fish and chips cafe opposite the Museum. These being the three stops Dad and myself made on Monday, when he came up to visit. Must find a suitable non-tourist cafe to replace the New Piccadilly, though.

We saw the new Beowulf animated movie at the Imax, in 3D. Utterly enjoyable fare. Seeing it on DVD (or downloading it) really can’t be the same experience at all. It’s unabashed spectacle, hooked on proper storytelling. Something happens because something else has happened. That’s what makes a story a story, as opposed to a parade of random spectacles for the sake of it. The trouble with so many recent blockbusters is that something happens – AND then something else happens.

Beowulf has its roots in a very old story indeed, though this version has a few twists that have predictably annoyed the Anglo-Saxon academics. They forget that movies are movies, and books are books. The only real insult to an original text is to make a dull movie. Produce a dazzling piece of cinema – such as the Lord Of The Rings trilogy – and all deviations from the books are forgiven.

***

Last Sunday evening was Shane MacGowan’s 50th birthday party at the Boogaloo. Mr MacGowan’s actual birthday is on the 25th, which he shares with Quentin Crisp and Jesus Christ, but given the Pogues are on tour till Christmas, I assume this was the most convenient date for all concerned. Like The Queen, it always helps to have more than one birthday. I was invited, and it was great to see the Boogaloo extended family assembled, including John & Sharon, Ms Red, Eddie, Jemima, Bernie, Sophie, The General, Ronnie, and Ms Lou.

Shane sang Van Morrison’s ‘Gloria’, though the backing band (Bap Kennedy and co) rather cunningly turned it into the Nips’ ‘Gabrielle’ halfway through. Spider Stacy (Pogues) also performed a couple of numbers.

At the pub I also recognised: Jem and Darryl (Pogues), Shanne Bradley (from The Nips), Kevin Rowland (Dexy’s – pencil moustache), Tim Burgess (Charlatans – glasses and stubble), and Chas Smash (Madness).

There were also a few striking young men in eyeliner, deliberate hairdos and skinny black attire. If they weren’t in some famous band, they dressed like they were. Some papers said members of The View and Arctic Monkeys were there, but although I’m aware that these groups exist and are popular with today’s loose children, my passing interest stops short of identifying their members’ countenances, particularly in a dark room full of similar trendy young things.

Maybe I could just about recognise the Arctic Monkeys singer. He reminds me vaguely of Chris Gentry from Menswear. Ask your Britpop dad.

Ms Kate Moss sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Mr MacGowan, via Ms Victoria Clarke’s mobile phone. And there was a proper cake, with candles, which he duly extinguished before the happy gathering.

***

Email on Jake Thackray, one of those recording artists on my To Do list:

There’s a very good 4CD box set called Jake In A Box which can usually be found cheap in the sales…otherwise I’ve only seen iffy compilations. If you can find individual albums, the usual favourite is his debut, The Last Will And Testament Of Jake Thackray. I think you’d like him.

Thank you. It’s on the ever-extending list.

***

Sad to find out the Charles Dickens Museum is going to be closed this Christmas. Last Boxing Day it was the only London museum open, and I went along to enjoy readings from A Christmas Carol (with mince pies and wine) by one of his descendents, the author Lucinda Hawksley. So my Boxing Day is now something of a blank canvas.

My New Year’s Eve, however, is claimed by the Last Tuesday Society. They’ve booked me to DJ at their Masked Ball, at the Arts Theatre in Covent Garden.