I was reminded of this top tune the other day, from 1992. And then it suddenly struck me that Coldplay's tune "Yellow" (1999) is, while not an exact replica, perhaps a little too close for comfort. Sorry if this is already common knowledge round these parts, but just felt need to share.

I've had Steve Hillage's Live Herald on my shopping list of albums to buy since 1989. Just been over to Amazon to preview some samples. Sounds good. But I still didn't buy it. It can wait.

Has anyone been meaning to buy an album for more than 21 years?

I am a football fan only in the sense that I am passionate about my team – Manchester City. I’ve supported them all my life, been a season ticket holder, away games at Southend on wet and wintry Wednesdays, blah blah blah. But when it comes to the national side I really couldn’t give a toss. I have no sense of affiliation with the England team and have even been known to get a perverse sense of satisfaction when they lose. Many of my friends (and there aren’t many) consider this attitude bizarre. I’ll be watching the World Cup, of course, but with a few cold beers and the ever present promise of schadenfreude. How deep does my indifference go? Last night I tried to imagine what City achievement I would be prepared to sacrifice for an England World Cup win, and here are the final scores:

Premier League title: Do me a favour!
A top four finish: no
Doing the double on United: you pulling my leg?
1-0 home win against Birmingham: try harder
Losing a pre-season friendly to the MK Dons: maybe

Tech. question for the Massive. I have a FLAC file that I'd like to burn to CD. Seems simple enough in principle, but I'm having problems. Windows Media Player doesn't deal with FLAC (I don't think itunes does either)and my CD burning software (Sonic RecordNow) doesn't recognise it. I've tried a few freebie programs (burrrn and others) that are supposed to work but don't. The only other suugestion I've come across is to convert the original FLAC file to a wav file first, but that seems a bit of a wonky way of doing things. I'd be very grateful for any advice. I have a Windows XP home pc.

Yesterday I bought a chest of drawers at Ikea. The construction seemed simple enough, but time was not on my side, as I had to work fast while the baby slept. Everything seemed to be going well. Too well, in fact. Because speed has brought disaster. As I struggled to get the drawers into their gliders I discovered, to my horror, that I'd nailed the back onto the wrong side. The whole thing is back to front! So my nice new Ikea chest of drawers is now littered with unsightly nail holes, and looks horribly second hand. I feel absolutely awful.

Please help alleviate my shame by sharing any similar stories of DIY humiliation.

Owing to a chronic health problem, I’ve recently been seeing an acupuncturist. Interesting guy, who has introduced me the music of Georg Deuter, who he met in India many years ago. Deuter is a Krautrock pioneer who turned New Age, relocated to New Mexico, and now has a very successful career making what many would describe as insipid relaxation music. (His CDs sell by the truck load). Thing is, I’ve developed a real fondness for Deuter’s Silence is the Answer, CD. It’s excellent meditation/relaxation music, and I’m keep to explore more of this vacuous stuff.

So, can anyone else confess to a fondness for so-called New Age, and if so, what’s your particular brand of medicine? And where does "credible" ambient/chill out music end and wishy-washy New Age begin; because it seems to me that the line is a little blurry and needs some clarification. Off the top of my head, here’s a few recognised artists whose real identities are under suspicion: Mike Oldfield, Tangerine Dream, Klaus Schulze, Vangelis, Brian Eno. What makes these artists more credible, in the eyes of the Massive, compared to those who operate entirely in the New Age realm?

BBC4’s two recent science documentary series - A Volatile History of the Elements and How Earth Made Us – are excellent and worthy pieces of television. But both illustrate an extremely annoying trend that is seeping into documentary making. The first three minutes or so of each show is always filled with a needless, and over-excited promotion of the programme you are already watching. To me, it comes across as a childish and patronising plea not to turn off. I don’t remember great documentary series like The Ascent of Man, Life on Earth, or Cosmos ever employing these kind of tactics. So why use them now?

The plan by UK police to introduce unmanned CCTV drones over our skies, as outlined in yesterday's Guardian, is a grave and disturbing development. But of course, the Americans are already way ahead of us:

One word: cosmic

I was digging around in a cardboard box of dusty tapes the other day when Wings’ Back to the Egg caught my eye. Stuck it in the old cassette deck and was momentarily transported back to 1979. So far so good. The tranquil mood turned sour, however, somewhere around the midpoint of ‘Again and Again’, when Denny Laine sluggishly implores his lead guitarist to “Take it…Away” and a pointless, stagnant solo ensues.

A few thoughts crossed my mind. Is there a name for that little bit of improvised vocal filler just before a lead solo? (If there isn’t then I believe it is the Massive’s duty to name it). Done well, - as in The Doors’ ‘Roadhouse Blues’, for example, when Jim Morrison cries “Do it Robbie, do it!” and Robbie, er, does it - it can catapult a solo and a song from the mundane to the extraordinary. When done badly, it’s the musical equivalent of BO. Intriguingly, prog., the spiritual home of the show-off solo, seems to shun this vocal thingy. There are lead vocals and there are solos, but there are no bridges in between. Too informal, perhaps? Anyway, what are the best and worst examples of this undoubted skill?

Depressing day in the bathroom this morning. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed something I’d been denying for months. Call it climate change or simple middle age, but me hair is falling out. We’re not talking Eno/Elton John levels of deforestation here. Not yet, anyway. Even so, the future looks bald.

This got me thinking about the follicle factor in pop. Imagine an alternative universe in which four lovable Scousers were blessed not only with charm, wit and musical genius, but also the genes for premature baldness. Ringo “Homer” Starr, Paul “Moby” McCartney, John “Gandi” Lennon and George “Kojak” Harrison insisted that all the world needed was love. But would the world have listened? And would we still be sitting here today dissecting that newly revealed twiddly-twangy bit on “And Your Bird Can Sing”?

To ram home my rather obvious point: how many bald young pop stars can you name?

Form an orderly queue, but Vini Reilly of The Durutti Column has a new album out next month (his second new release of the year, no less). The record, called A Paean to Wilson, is a tribute to his old mucker Tony Wilson. I, for one (and am I the only one?) can't wait. In the meantime, here's something quite splendid from a few years back.

The mind boggles, etc

http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/TV/09/22/mackenzie.phillips.oprah/index....

You've bought the house with the Olympic sized indoor pool, the Bentley, the jewelry, the 95 inch Fujitsu and the Willie Nelson back catalogue. There's a private jet on standby just in case you fancy a little Monday morning shopping in Milan. And yet you're still only three months into the new contract. Each week, another 150,000 pounds drops into your bank account. What more is there left to buy?