American rock has a sort of self-pitying whine to it.

Three women walk into a pub and say, `Hooray, we've colonised a male-dominated joke format'

I once punched a bloke in the face for saying 'Hawk the Slayer' was rubbish, when what I should have said 'Dad, you're wrong.'

I feel sorry for James Blunt, he has to wake up every morning and think 'Oh my God, I'm James Blunt, what have I done?'

"God save our gracious Queen": Why would we invoke a non-specific deity to bail out these unelected spongers?

Or, as I call it, a Cheesel, it's a Weasel with a Cheese finish.

It's the augmented fourth, or diminished fifth, depending on your outlook on life.