The Arctic Monkeys. Don’t say you didn’t notice. Quite aside from the £500 haircuts, when did they stop being from Sheffield and start being from some nebulous territory suspended between Belgravia, Greenwich Village and Harrogate? Has the record label bought them new accents?

We have a proper Yorkshireman in this edition: Richard Hawley (pictured), the Geoffrey Boycott of rock. He’s from Sheffield, and he always will be. He drinks tea, he says ‘shite’ (often) and he probably cuts his own hair with a piece of agricultural machinery. He’s also as gloomy as the Arctic Monkeys used to be before their catastrophic makeover, and he has no intention of cheering up, ever.

Good on ‘im. It’s enough to bring a tear to your eye... a proper rock star, not an over-coiffed, mincing show pony.

Lots of other good stuff inside this edition, too. It’s just that that Arctic Monkeys thing really got on our nerves...