Mick Hucknall has issued an apology to approximately one thousand women that he estimates he "slept with" in the 1980s, attributing his behaviour to an addiction. All very well, Mick, and I'm glad you've atoned for some of your sins, but don't think you can stop there my ginger friend. You still need to apologise to the rest of the planet for infecting us with your godawful plastic soul-pop for oh so many years. For the hideous bland hybrid of easy listening/jazz/funk/lounge/muzak that was played endlessly on the radio from the late-80s to the mid-90s, polluting the airwaves, making dogs howl, babies cry and generally raising my blood pressure. I'm over it now, I've had time to recover, but I still want an apology.
Fifty million albums this fucker sold. FIFTY MILLION.
Further to yesterday's blog, add that to the the list of reasons that prove there is no god.