Oppenheimer are two people from Nortern Ireland. One plays drums, the other plays guitar and ambles round in a robotic fashion whilst doing so. Add to this a monumental backing track that is sometimes a bit 80s and sometimes on the verge of being cheesy.

But they are so good! And I cannot comprehend how in this day and age, were drum machines are making a comeback, they aren't MASSIVE. Ironically, they seem to be bigger in the States than they are over here, for some reason.

Bis - The Aftermath

So this was the Bis reunion gig! Ten years since The New Transistor Heroes hit the shops. TEN fucking years. Since then we’ve had a poppy second album and a slightly odd third album. And Data Panik. And The Kitchen. And Sci-Fi Steven’s something Stiletto electro project.

Bis came on, a lot of people felt strangely emotional. I sure had a lump in my little throat. They did the infamous LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, I GIVE YOU THE POP GROUP BIS! Introduction and launched straight into Tell It To The Kids. OMG, like. They even wheeled out an ancient drum machine for the, er, older works. Where else do you get a thousand people (come on, it must have been!) shouting I’m gonna get you! With my Icky Poo! ICKY POO!!? Late twenty-somethings hoarse from songs about fizzy cola bottles and School Diskos?

“Opinions are not facts. What happened and how you feel about it are two different things. And people should know which is which.”

This was the earnest declaration at the centre of an advertisement poster for The Guardian newspaper, a poster which can be presently seen adorning the London transport system, inviting commuters to ponder at its earnestness and profundity. The observations are surely correct - opinions are indeed not the same as facts, and events are not the same as feelings. And of course the more people can distinguish events and feelings the better. But it is not entirely clear that the problem of people confusing events and feelings was an issue of social concern, except perhaps in some very specific circles - surrealists’ conventions, perhaps, or crack-houses. The Guardian might just have legitimately launched a colourful campaign to convince us that it would not be worthwhile or in the public interest to confuse road traffic accidents with yearnings.

I have just woken up with the most violent hangover I have ever experienced and I feel like I am about to die. As I wander about the flat with my first cup of tea I try to piece together the previous nights escapades in an attempt to justify my chronic headache. My eye falls upon The Obvious Books CD cover and I feel as if someone is excitedly dancing on my grave. My mind slips into focus and I start to remember the sonic hell of the previous night.....

iShotTheDeputy.com has been allowed to take over the traditional Saturday afternoon slot at the Notting Hill Arts Club that Rough Trade Records run (RoTa). This event is always free and occurs from 4pm until 8pm, meaning you can pop-down, grab a surprisingly tasty and cheap, hitherto unknown, lager beer and still be able to make your important evening engagements. And all this in the 'high class' surrounds of Notting Hill.

First things first, let’s rip off the marketing bumpf: "Eeeny Meeny Miney Mole" is a brand new comedy play from Pegabovine*, mixing classic Cold War paranoia with new-school espionage. There will be jokes also.

Secondly, when attending theatres, avoid late arrival at all costs, for you will forever be left confused as to what the hell is going on. Thirdly, not that that matters much.

Proud Gallery sits at the top of Stables Market in Camden, consisting mostly of large, over-warm marquee filled with beds and seating in equal measure and slightly over-priced bar. There are also a couple of fibreglass horses, a little less than life size, that grace the entrance and several blow-ups of Sun front pages. I'm not really sure why but I guess the owners are just a little arty and pretentious. Where better, therefore, to see a band as intelligently experimental as Junkplanet?

This split single is out on February 26th courtesy of Angry Liberal Records. Open Mouth is the nom-de-guerre of a solo artist named Seymour who used to be in a band called Miss Black America. “Castle Keep” is an unremarkable, dreary, bland slice of indulgent acoustic tripe, irredeemably pointless and critically indefensible. Song two is “327”, an instrumental acoustic track which does/says/conveys/inspires nothing.

Bis have announced reunion gigs. Ten long years since The New Transistor Heroes came out. How does that make me feel? It makes me feel old. And strangely emotional.

Bis were so much more than just a band that made it onto TOTP once. I dare say, Bis were more like an avalanche. Big avalanche in my life, anyway.

How?

Imagine being stuck under a rock somewhere in Bavaria. The local record shop (aptly named ‘Stereo 2000’. They went bust in ’99) didn’t even stock the latest Blur albums. Getting anything half decent involved a trip to either World of Music in Munich (the import section soon became my best friend), mailorder or a trip to London altogether.

Take two unsuspecting punters who are well into their metal. Stick this on stereo during a game of Scrabble. See what happens. Stoner Rocker: ’Euwww, is this the Manic Street Preachers?’. Metallica Girl: ’No, it’s not foppish enough for that! It’s quite sweet actually.’. Stoner Rocker, snatching at press release: ’Ah, he was in Symposium! I see …’. Metallica Girl now tries to put SYMPOSIUM down on the Scrabble board, but discovers she has mostly the wrong letters for this. This makes her irate. ’Why doesn’t he call himself POPQUIZ? I’d have the letters for that!’.