GLENN BURGESS suggests that, despite his record in Spain, Orwell’s enduring commitment to socialist revolution underpins his late novels
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Janine gets it off her chest
One of the finest performers on the circuit has written a must-read on her battle against breast cancer
CHRISTOPHER POLLARD explains how and why neoliberalism adopted the racist agenda common to the populist right of today
SYLVIA HIKINS recommends a sweeping survey of the world's biggest desert and the people who live there
GUILLERMO THOMAS is persuaded by a scathing critique of the Church of England and its embeddedness in imperialism
MARIA DUARTE and ANGUS REID review Materialists, Unmoored, Together, and Bambi: A Tale of Life in The Woods
TONY BURKE revels in the publication of previously unreleased tracks by the great US folksinger
GORDON PARSONS endures heavy rock punctuated by Shakespeare, and a delighted audience
I MET Janine Booth for the first time when she was 16 on April 16, 1983. I remember the date well because it was the day Brighton reached the FA Cup Final for our first, and so far only, time by beating Sheffield Wednesday 2-1 at Highbury in the semi-final.
Tumour humourist: Janine Booth
She’d come to interview me for her fanzine Blaze at my post-match gig at the Cricklewood Hotel in north-west London and I don’t remember anything about the interview or the gig because, understandably, I was far too pissed. But Janine and I have been great friends ever since.
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Back from a mini tour of Yorkshire and Stockport and cheering for supporting act Indignation Meeting
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The bard ditches an unspecial relationship, encounters a new subdivision of metal, and discovers the cure for a stiff neck
