I’ve put $50 towards this worthy cause  and recommend you choose a subscription level you can afford for the final push as the deadline of 30th January approaches.

There’s a great interview with Diane about this project at Bobbysix.Com that may convince you to give generously.

I like her affirmative outlook which you can guage from these words:
“In many ways, I’m taking more responsibility for the outcome of my life. A lot of conventional music business protocol didn’t make sense to me, and I spent more time reacting against a system I didn’t like rather than laying the groundwork for my own. That’s what I’m doing now, with help, and I think the times we’re in now are actually fostering that growth in me, making it easier. Song-of-the-Week is helping me commit to more follow-through with my creative ideas. I’m discovering how helpful organization can be… and how much I’ve needed it for a long time. I’m learning to schedule my own work days as well as time off”.

"Say you like me or the pussy cats die!"

This perfectly appalling movie is based on the 1957 novel, Angel, by Elizabeth Taylor whose unlovable protagonist was inspired by Marie Corelli, Queen Victoria’s favourite writer.

Angel specialises in slushy romantic fiction and her vivid imagination makes up for her ignorance.

She writes with authority about Italy without ever having been and won’t change a word of her novels even when they contain blatant errors like a description of opening a bottle of champagne with a corkscrew.

Her refusal to compromise for her ‘art’ makes her insufferable. You might admire her drive and single-minded determination to rise above humble beginnings but she is such a hideous personality that you just end up loathing her.

Like Margaret Thatcher, she is a grocer’s daughter and , like the Iron Lady, she  lacks any common humanity. You don’t have to like a main character to enjoy a movie but, in this instance, Romola Garai is so hammy in the lead role she’s not even someone you can love to hate.

Angel displays her naked ambition.

Despite her lack of redeeming qualities, all her childhood fantasies are fulfilled as she become a successful novelist and makes enough money to be able to buy the Paradise estate she dreamed of owning as a young girl.

The only reason for watching it, and the only reason I was interested in seeing it, is to see Michael Fassbender in pre-Shame role. He’s Esmé, a struggling artist whose paintings reflect his cynical character. Angel can’t understand why he doesn’t use brighter colours but is so smitten by his dashing good looks that she marries him anyway.

Subsequently the ill-matched couple become estranged when he enlists for the army. Angel regards the First World War as a trivial distraction that shouldn’t disturb her private universe. Esmé ends up killing himself, and I think anyone married to her would be tempted to take the same exit route.

Sam Neil , as Angel’s publisher, drifts gamely through the movie with the bemused expression of someone who has been conned into making a film to match My Brilliant Career.

I can only imagine that the French director thought his kitschy style would be in keeping with the brash and trashy romantic fiction Angel writes so prolifically.  But to pull this off, the movie needs to have the quality of a playful romp and plenty of tongue-in-cheek humour. Instead, it comes across as a heavy-handed tragicomedy and a parody of itself.

This is one of those records which you hear once and think ‘This is quite nice’ and then on each subsequent hearing the adjective goes up a notch.

You could call it ‘a grower’ if you don’t mind sounding like a guest on Smashey and Nicey ‘s Fab FM.

The great Jim White produced one of the tracks embellished with cello, upright bass, piano and french horns but there’s also a nice ‘let’s keep things simple and unadorned’  acoustic version of the same tune, Simon Says, to be seen and heard on Vimeo to give a flavour of Dare’s natty way with words:

Andrea Arnold’s bold debut movie was about a CCTV operator in Glasgow and in a strange way her brilliant follow up ,Fish Tank, is also about surveillance. Yet, while in Red Road the woman was on the outside looking in, the teenage protagonist of Fish Tank is on the inside looking out.

Mia is 15 and her life on a council estate in Essex is about as interesting and varied as that of a goldfish. Money is tight but the flat where she lives with her mother and younger sister, Tyler, is decent enough;  above all, hers  is a poverty of the soul.

Her mom is more interested in partying than parenting so Mia and Tyler have become pretty wild and unruly. Like many kids of this age (and I speak from experience as the father of a girl around the same age) Mia is emotionally confused and desperately needs to find a way out of what she perceives as a boring, dead-end existence.

School offers nothing and she is on the point of being expelled. You could say that she doesn’t do a lot to help make things better. She’s on the defensive even before she is directly criticised and gets violent and/or foul mouthed when crossed. Yet, her streetwise bearing and combative behaviour is mostly just a front.

Katie Jarvis got the part as Mia when a casting agent saw her having a row with her boyfriend at Tilbury railway station (one of the locations in the movie). She was cast for her attitude rather her acting experience; a risk that could easily have backfired but doesn’t as she manages to pull off the difficult feat of looking scary and sassy while also convincing us of her vulnerability.

Her hopes and dreams centre on dancing but ,although she practices regularly to hip-hop music, you know this is never about to become a female version of Billy Elliot.

We never see her dad but in his place is Connor (played superbly by Michael Fassbender) who introduces himself as a ‘friend’ of her mother’s. He proves to be a charmer who openly flirts with her and ,initially, he appears to be a decent enough guy. While no monster, he subsequently proves to be anything but a father figure.

Without giving away the plot, I can say that the second half of the movie is totally riveting as it changes pace and focus in an unexpected but credible fashion. This takes the drama away from the kitchen sink for some gripping scenes where the potential for tragedy is very real.

Throughout, Andrea Arnold refuses to adopt any moralistic position and her keen eye for realism leaves little room for sentiment. She makes you feel the authenticity of the situations and to see that, despite the hard exterior, Mia is desperately need of support and understanding.

There’s a touching scene at the end where she and her mother dance to a rap tune by Nas – “Life’s a bitch, then you die, that’s why we get high”.

You’d hardly call this a cheery or hopeful message but the final shot of a heart shaped balloon flying away is a symbol of the fact that Mia does succeed in holding on to a dream that a better life is possible.

So what is the difference when Peter Saville’s artwork for Unknown Pleasures is appropriated by the ubiquitous cartoon rodent for a T-shirt design?

This is not a ‘rock homage’ but a blatant rip-off and a sacrilegious one at that.

Sue the bastards I say!