It begins twenty-four-and-a-bit years ago. Tuesday 19th May, 1992. BBC2 are repeating the fourth series of a sci-fi sitcom called Red Dwarf. I’ve heard vague mutterings about Red Dwarf from classmates at primary school, and from my cousin. But back in 1991, it was on at 9pm, and I wasn’t allowed to stay up to watch it. This time, however, the repeat run is on at 8.30. On Tuesday evenings at 8.30, my mum is out at night school, and in the preceding months my dad has been letting me stay up with him to watch A Question of Sport. But the then-popular quiz show has finished its run, so our shared TV-watching timeslot needs something new to fill it – and the Brittas Empire repeats that we’ll later enjoy are themselves a good few weeks away from starting.
Hence, Red Dwarf.
I come to praise Phonogram, not to bury it. But first, something important needs to be stated: in the end, it really was too powerful to live. Continue reading →
It’s July 2006. And yes, those of you who are paying attention will notice this means that the first issue of Phonogram has yet to be published. But that’s the kind of story this is.
“I believe that the best way to show how music affects the world is to take evidence directly from life to show how music has changed me and people around me. Not that it’s a particularly truthful form of biography. There’s a key line in the second issue: ‘Sometimes the truth just gets in the way of what really happens.’ That’s absolutely key. The phrase I’m using is Automythology.” – Kieron Gillen