(Denim’s Lawrence Hayward – anyone leave any messages?)

“Never has a single fabric done so little for so many.”  So proclaimed the Wall Street Journal’s Daniel Akst earlier this week, opining that denim “looks bad on almost everyone who isn’t thin, yet has somehow made itself the unofficial uniform of the fattest people in the world.”  Calling denim, “the SUV of fabrics, the wardrobe equivalent of driving a hulking Land Rover to the Whole Foods Market”, Akst’s anti-Levi’s baton is snatched by the Guardian’s Philly-based scribe, Steven Wells, who confesses, ” I am afraid that the conservatives have us by the clearly outlined (by too-tight denim) balls.”

Years of gig going has provided me with the invariably correct rule of thumb that if a band amble on stage dressed in blue denim we are certain to be subjected to a dope-fogged aural sludgefest. Can’t be arsed to dress properly usually means can’t be arsed to write music properly. Which is why, of course, indie is awash with denim. And why one of the worst bands in the world was, in fact, called Denim. Actually, now I’ve researched it, there are loads of bands called Denim and they’re all dreadful. Go ahead and google them, but keep the sick bucket handy.

On the other hand there are bands who wear denim but are not shit. Motörhead and Status Quo spring to mind. But then these guys also rock ponytails. Which suggests that they are, for some reason, beyond criticism. Probably because they’re best mates with really scary bikers.

From now on all bands must wear leather, gold lamé or fake tiger (or leopard) print trousers “ no exceptions. Or shark-skin or two-tone suits. (No shorts under any circumstances, but total nakedness is, as always, perfectly acceptable. Especially if you’re really fat.) U2, on the other hand, must wear jeans at all times. So that people can see just how much they suck.