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We don't understand why people we love with every ounce of our soul seem to think that Lord of The Rings is a sensible way to spend their lives. However, if we narrow our eyes we can pretend this isn't Orlando Bloom but the young Adam Ant.
After a few duff claims (Andrew WK, anyone?) the rock world has started to strut like a bugger again. Craig Nicholls, of the Vines, has had nme staffers wiping their spontaneous girl and boy gloop from their keyboards. We would, too.
Pete Doherty from The Libertines. Wearing, of course, a trashy denim skirt
Despite being related to members of Blair's innercircle, the Longpigs never quite managed to win the following they deserved. Pity. We loved Crispin Hunt
Rhett Miller, sometimes of the Old 97s, sometimes solo.
A-Ha! DYSWWDT? It's Morten Harket. Showing off something other than his famous cheekbones.
Patrick Duff headed up Strangelove, a band doomed to be third behind the Auteurs-Suede axis. Which is a shame, because everyone knows he'd rather have been Audrey Hepburn anyway...
Jared Leto went from appearing with Clare Danes in the never-bettered-without-vampires High School drama My So Called Life to having the twat-fillage beaten pout of him in Fight Club. We have a picture from before he cried "Not the face..."
Nicky Wire from the Manics. The glitter twin who survived, whatever you may think about the Manic's recent descent into chin-stroking rock ploddery, you cant deny he was a fox in his youth
Bobby Gillespie - another survivor: a man his size who took as much special items as he does should, by rights, be dead and still tripping. Instead, nobody won the 'when will Bob die on stage?' sweepstake, and the man carries on
bobbygillespie
They might have been dropped, but Ooberman power on. Everyone yammers about how cute Sophia is, but don't forget Dan Pop...
You buffon, Anderson - you manage to lose Justine, you manage to lose Butler... its a wonder you still have any kudos at all. You're bloody lucky you're pretty shaggable still...
There's something about a bad boy, and they don't come much badder than Ed Norton. Please ignore the shirt.
Once he was young. Often he was drunk. Sometimes he's in Blur. Sometimes he's solo. Ladies and gentlemen, Graham Coxon.
If the rumours are true, Sean Moore doesn't call round the other Manics' houses, and lives next door to his partner and... well, you get the picture. But we have a thing for drummers, don't we, eh?
More mixed fortunes of former colleagues - Mark Owen, the pretty one out of Take That, sought indie credibility by growing his hair long an dgoing slightly mad. He bombed, probably becuase the inide world doesn't smile on pretty boys
... meanwhile, erstwhile colleague Robbie Williams has taken a place at the top of the national consciousness, despite making trite singles and clearly being little more than Mike Yarwood with more to spend on a drug problem. Possibly the only person anywhere near the gallery against my better judgement. I think he's an arse.
and then all my career options fell off... Keanu, Kennooe, Kennoonoo - how do you say your name?/ doesnt matter any way/ cause you look good in a wetsuit
Caught here at the 'growing it out' stage, Phil (ip) Oakey of Human League may make some bad moves (odd facial hair, Gorgio Morroder) but when he gets it right, boy, does he get it right
"Hey man, I did a speedball. I'm gonna die." Yes you are, you twat. River Phoenix. What a fucking waste
In a world of apparently thick female presenters who exist solely to show their pants to the world, the only succesful male version. Jamie Theakston.
My Vitriol are a pretty good-looking band - the first indie group to look like a dance outfit. Seth is one of them, and he is just really, really sweet...