Amongst the horrors of the last week and the conflict on the list, one of the few things that has cheered me up a bit was the announcement of the Mercury Music Prize winner. This is a single award for which any album released in the last year, in any genre, can be nominated by the record companies, or even, in the case of small cottage industries, by the artists themselves. There is a shortlist of 12 albums, voted on by various music bods (11 this year, as Gorillaz puled out in a huff because they felt it was beneath their credibility, or something like that). Anyway, there were some great records on the shortlist this year, notably Goldfrapp's debut, Ed Harcourt, Radiohead's Amnesiac, etc. I watched the shindig on telly, and when PJ Harvey's Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea was announced as the winner, I did a bit of the old punching the air and "Yes! Yes! Yes!" routine. As it turned out, she was/is on tour in the USA at the moment, and her short address down a crackly phone line was both gracious and appropriately reflective of the sombre mood. My admiration for her crept up yet another notch. Keep listening to music you love, dear people, it heals. At the height of the conflict on this list, I had Jane Siberry's When I Was A Boy playing. I defy anyone to listen to Love Is Everything, or Calling All Angels or The Vigil and stay angry. Peace and love, Azeem NP: Nothing, strangely enough!
