Yesterday afternoon I braved the rain and popped down to the supermarket for my weekly needs. There's a magazine rack near the door from the central concourse and to be honest, I've long given up any interest in it. Basically the magazines on sale either tell you what's happening in the private lives of celebrities, what they're wearing this year, or how men can have a flat six-pack stomach like theirs.

This time though I noticed a copy of Mojo, an indie music publication intended for people who understand the secret language of music journalism. Quite frankly I've got little time for discerning the meaning of life from magazines and I can't say music journalists have ever impressed me with enlightenment about the human condition (or even last nights gig), but then I saw the free CD attached to the cover.

Africa Rising it was called. A collection of various artists and their ethnic music. For some reason this intrigued me. Quite why I don't know. Africa has never loomed large in my conciousness and ethnic music doesn't rouse me. I admit I liked the Giant Leap album, the one with Robbie Williams on it, and also No Quarter (Robert Plant & Jimmy Page) which contained ethnic versions of Led Zeppelin tracks.

The genre is full of rythmn with a sort of warm chaos to it, a bit like primitive jazz. Am I developing a taste for African music? Good grief, all my dead heavy metal heroes must be turning in their grave. All I can say is that Africa Rising doesn't disappoint.

Compliment of the Week

The lady on the checkout till described me as a young man. Isn't it amazing what a copy of Mojo does for your public image? Who needs a flat six-pack stomach anyway?