Nacho Ruiz Bartolomé

Morrissey and Johnny Marr took 40% each of The Smiths' recording and performance royalties. Drummer Mike Joyce and bassist Andy Rourke got 10% each, and nobody ever put that split on paper. In 1996 a judge said Morrissey "appeared devious, truculent and unreliable." In the video below, Joyce is 40 years past the band and promoting his memoir. Asked if he would sit down for a pint with Morrissey and Marr now, he says, "No, I don't think so." The band never signed a partnership deal. Under Britain's Partnership Act of 1890, partners with nothing in writing share profits equally, so the High Court gave Joyce about £1 million in back royalties and 25% from then on. Morrissey appealed and lost in 1998. The case for Morrissey: he and Marr wrote every Smiths song, and the songwriting money was never part of the case. They ran the band, and Rourke had settled quickly in 1989 for £83,000 and his 10%. If you start something with friends and never sign who gets what, the law decides, and its default is equal shares. The person who wants the bigger cut is the one who needs the signature. So who built The Smiths' money, the 2 men who wrote the songs or the 4 who played them on every record? I post one famous deal like this every day, with who got paid, who got played, and the numbers that never made the poster.

CDs are back. Get involved.

Lit a candle, lay on the floor and listened to Parallelograms by Linda Perhacs a couple of times today, drifting off wherever it took me, like a leaf in the wind. It’s a wonderful record. You know how there are artists we wish had been bigger? This poor lassie should have just had some kind of career. She made the album in 1970, then went back to working as a dental hygienist. Thankfully, its legend grew over the years as more people discovered it and fell for its beguiling charms. It reminds me of Goldfrapp’s Seventh Tree. It’s ethereal and pastoral, but a chemical haze floats on its breeze, and many a moment catches you off guard along the way. The title track especially lures you into its dreamworld before suddenly slipping into startling soundscapes. It’s a real portal record, transporting the listener to another time and place, somewhere magical, mysterious, and just a bit ominous. So, light a candle, press play, and see where it takes you.

A whimsical pastoral oddity from the tallest member of the Beatles pitchfork.com/reviews/albums…

mad men is not entertaining

Reading off the lineup at a prog rock festival

Michael Caine and Sean Connery in John Huston's "The Man Who Would Be King," 1975. John Simon of New York magazine considered the film to be Huston's best work since "The African Queen," twenty-three years earlier.

it's crazy how much better Rubber Soul is than Revolver but we don't need to have that discussion until everyone grows out of this annoying "Revolver is their best album" phase we've been in for like a decade

Qué asco los delincuentes que destrozan la música con la salvaje reventa (infierno de cerveza caliente para ellos hasta la eternidad), qué sufrimiento estas ginkanas infinitas para conseguir entradas... pero qué alegría cuando tienes la suerte de poder conseguirlas

Antes solía tener pesadillas recurrentes de que no había acabado la carrera. Desde hace un tiempo mis pesadillas son con Estefanía Molina. Despierto con pánico después de haber soñado con ella analizando los partidos del Albacete Balompié o viniendo a leer el contador del gas🧵