|
|
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
|
|
|
|
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...
|
|