So last night the prestigeous Mercury Music Prize was handed out, as is customary, to little-known London band The XX, for their eponymous album. Now these little clouds of doom are very talented, and no one likes to rock a black outfit more than me, but I am a little concerned about their style. Or the very sigh-ness of it all.
Especially when these okes were up against the Modfather, Paul Weller, and the king of British hip hop style Dizzee Rascal.
I remember when Dizzee won his first Mercury back when he was about 19 years old. He has smartened up, cleaned up both physically and financially since then and he is firmly on my hit parade of style these days.
But then what do I really know about music? All I know is style.
