I love music. I love rock music. So when a friend asked me recently, “if you could meet anybody from history, alive or dead, who would you meet?”, as a music lover the answer was easy: Noel Gallagher. Dead.

Because I hate Oasis. I hate their music, their haircuts, their stupid, meaningless choruses. If they have pets I hate them too. And now they’ve split, which I suppose is a slightly less drastic solution than the one I proposed, but… ah, it’ll do. So hooray, some good news after the melancholic navel-gazing of my last post.

I thought I had the opportunity to put an end to the Gallagher’s witless, leaden, derivative drudge-rock back in the nineties, when Radio 1 ran a competition to win Noel’s guitar. “Fuck me”, I thought, “I’ll enter that!” but then I realised he probably had another one. Foiled again.