Jet goes down over Edinburgh

Macca pays Iron Virgin a visit

In December 1973, at the height of Glam Rock, five mildly camp bruisers from Edinburgh, going under the ill-advised moniker Iron Virgin, decided to record a version of Jet from Paul McCartney's recently released Band on the Run album. So far, so glamtastic. They released it in the February of 1974 on the Deram label and, remarkably, it began to gain a bit of traction. Kenny Everett loved it - he was playing it every day on his Capital Radio breakfast show. It looked like our Scottish glamsters had got a hit on their hands.

WOAH! Not so fast there. It was precisely at this point that Sir Macca decided to release his version as a single. Fair do's - he'd written it. But, whether or not his people did or didn't speak to the suits at Deram is still a debate that rages north of the border. What isn't in dispute, however, is that it left Iron Virgin's version dead in the water. It was never heard of again (a bit like the band). It had ceased to be, it had gone to meet its maker etc. etc.

A few years ago The Scotsman ran a non-story, in the way that local and regional papers specialise in, about the band. And I swear this is a direct quote from Simple Minds' former manager Bruce Findlay: 'There were dozens of of good Scottish bands at that time who didn't have any chart success but could sell out a pretty big venue. But I can't remember Iron Virgin at all.'

Almost perfect

We're having a shindig tomorrow. We don't throw parties very often, so I'm really looking forward to dressing up, splashing some Brut 33 on and playing mein host for the night. It'll be perfect, I know. Well, almost; despite there being some very special people on the guest list (and there are, believe me), one person who I really wanted to be there there sadly can't make it. He rang me today from the bed he's not shifted from in the last seven days: the quack's ruled him out of action and told him he's going nowhere for the foreseeable. Get well soon Steve - I need you up here.

Lightning Seeds - Perfect

John & The Liver Birds

Liverpool. What's not to like? We set up base camp at The Baltic Fleet, one of the city's finest ale houses, and ventured out from there.

From The Beatles to Hitler's brother (a former resident of the 'Pool by all accounts) via Tuk Tuk rides and several sensational beers, we had a blast.

Our numbers were reduced this time (and then there were three) but that never stopped John & The Liver Birds from living high on the hog for two long days and two long nights.

Points were awarded for spotting curlers and snakeskin stilettos. Points were deducted for mentioning the Mersey Tunnel. Damn you Sat-Nav.



The four lads who shook the world are, obviously, omnipresent and the whole weekend (as most weekends in Liverpool tend to be) was accompanied by a Lennon and McCartney soundtrack.

But you do kind of feel sorry for anyone working in a 24/7 Beatles environment. Hey Jude and Let it Be must be akin to Chinese water torture after a while.




After hours parties in the hotel room were civilised and not at all sordid(!) and we all expect to be heading back to The Hampton by Hilton sooner rather than later.

Penguins on the motorway

I dread to think how many million miles I've driven since I passed my test on that blisteringly hot afternoon in June, 1979; or how many years I've lost, spent behind the wheel. However, as we all know, driving is a necessary evil - made (marginally) less mind numbing/more comfortable in recent times with the advent of a few 21st Century luxuries: seat warmers, Sat-Nav, cruise control and being able to listen to podcasts (aka mile munchers).

But nothing has brought me more motoring pleasure - in a very long time - than when I overtook the Penguin lorry on the way to Oxford the other morning. It's the little things in life.

Taking care of business

Lot #96. I can't believe Mark let me hold this

Ellie May with her present from daddy

Mark has just come back Memphis. He paid his respects to Elvis. He also came back with his 1973 Gold Omega digital wristwatch. And his autograph. And Priscilla's autograph. He even picked up a limited edition replica of a guitar that Elvis played, as a present for his daughter. It goes without saying that Mark spent some serious money on these auction items. I like fans. I hope Mark's bank manager does too.