In the week in which the UK population had to deal not only with the earth shattering events that were Cheryl's return to the red carpet and Jordans new blonde look but also the scarring image of Jamie Redknapp "hanging out the back of" a person (an image horrifically and irrevocably appropriated by a friend this afternoon in relation to another individual for which I will be billing him the requisite therapy hours) it would be easy to waste this weeks space by contributing to the reactionary bile and soapbox rallying. There is however little point: aside from the fact I could pass my total comment on all three in the space of one set of brackets (1- what do you expect Mssrs Cameron & Clegg when you keep fucking things up so badly, 2- who f*cking cares and 3- Not even Richard Keys' supporting of Coventry City is enough to save him from being an insufferable smug git) but honestly - because I don’t really care. Which is something I've never really understood - why so many people actually give a shit about this mundane masqueradingas "news"? Millions of people all feverishly devouring the teaching from the gospels of Heat, Now, Chat, Flaps, Handbag, Gorgeous, Glamour, I could go on and on... I appreciate that these kind of (sorry but self proclaimed) female targeted magazines have their niche and don’t get me wrong there is one particular brand I love - there is genuinely no better way to pass a flight than with those 60p weeklies with front page taglines like "I was married to my dad and never knew" and "hot tub slaughter" and my favourite "my sex pest dad killed me". Seriously this is true: he killed her yet somehow she is writing about it - but what I don’t understand is the obsession with other peoples lives. Waist lines, hair colours, boob jobs, boyfriends, parties, arguments, divorces, dancers... and always run with some of the most unflattering photographs they can lay their hands on. Photobucket A weird bugged eyed, over-preened, overpriced fashionaccessorywith her dog yesterday. Appears to have swapped wedding ring for giant red floating hand bangles. Very in this year People of planet earth: IS YOUR LIFE SO DULL? COULD YOU REALLY NOT BE DOING SOMETHING ELSE?!?! It kind of gets me to thinking though - whether or not I'm missing a trick. Ok - here's an experiment - go into Tesco tomorrow (£1 in every £8 spent in the UK goes through Tesco in some way so they seem a pretty good common denominator for "the population") and stand in the magazine section. Count the music titles. I'll give them their due - there are a lot. Even down to carrying Rolling Stone and trad folkie mags in my local branch. Now go round the corner and count the number of gossip, chat, loose-women in glossy handbag size magazines are sitting there. I guarantee you they will outnumber the music titles five to one. And so how does the knowledge that the readers of L (Just L. like L for "Ladies". And "Lipgloss". And "Lying bastard who is she, tell me before I run out of here in this wedding dress and jump in front of a train you utter shit" - Seriously only a moron male in a marketing team would name a magazine L) outnumber the readers of Q week on week in your average mainstream 'buy enough records to let a no-mark like James Blunt sustain a career so imagine what they could do for your little label Ben' British household, help you? Well lets look at it - we've already started to work it back - selling records is a numbers game so you want to get into some magazines. People read review or mention in said magazine and can act on it. In the case of most Q readers there will be a series of reviews to choose from. So once they have waded through the review section and removed any that don’t sound like any of the Q holy trinity (Paul Weller, Radiohead, U2) and have deduced the total value of purchases they can sneak past their wife on the credit card, they are left with maybe a pick of or two. So you have a one in 120 chance of being the record that the reader picks out of the magazine to investigate further and actually buy. Contrast this to the iPhone savvy, impulsive, easily coerced generation of gossip readers who will - if it means matching Mutya or whoever these people like today - will (and I'm being deliberately argumentatively generic about this for which I do and don’t apologise) be much more keen to be in the in crowd, to be the one who always has the cool new tunes as her ringtone (much to the delight of everyone else on the bus) and so if you can reach these people and push a credible call to action which increases your chances of selling downloads (as opposed to flogging your arse off selling a limited edition 12" vinyl) then surely you have to take it? We always talk about record geeks being male (and more often than not of course they are) but what we need is a decent way of reaching everyone else. Its not enough to target the jeans and suit jacket segment of the population - we need to be aggressive and go to them. Instead of whining about the decline in the market for music we should be actively seeking out new ones by any means necessary. First thing in the morning I'm going to email all of my artists and see if any of them fancy trying to get into Heat magazine. Maybe Uno Moller could arrange a wardrobe malfuncion, Solvor could employ some backing dancers and begin an on-off love affair with one of them, hell I'm sure with the right amount of beer we could persuade Monzano to unveil a new "blonde bombshell" look and drape provocatively around their recording studio in an "exclusive photo shoot" featuring the first public shots of their new guitar straps. There’s got to be something in it. In fact I am going to take this opportunity to say that if any of the aforementioned gossip mags, "homemade horror" rags or TV Fashion bibles want to run a give-away promotion or competition in a bid to genuinely connect to their audience and introduce them to something new and interesting then get in touch. Just leave a comment below! I would genuinely love to. Anyway the best thing about this kind of coverage is the ability to genuinely try and subvert the mainstream from within. For instance there is nothing I would love more than to introduce the readers of OK to someone like this weeks records club band Sleeping Through Sunday. A band that hop from genre to genre with an eery knack at being kinda creepy and kinda huggable all at once. Like a stalker you invite in for a cup of tea. Ha Im sure they will love me saying that. I first assumed on seeing the band name that this was some kind of Emo outfit (although that was on the basis of nothing other than its resemblance to Taking Back Sunday) yet what actually unfurled out of my speakers was a creepy mix of electronica of the glitchy creaking kind and instrumental guitars in a kind of post rocking formation. The nearest thing I could put it close to would be worriedaboutsatan or maybe a weed-addled Kyte... Anyway you can get their track for free below by clicking through to this link here and you can stream the puppy below with this natty little link.   lazyacrerecords  For now - happy gossiping planet indie The Lazy Boy x