The Stone Roses

I still have the T-shirt. Stretched, faded, full of holes; it is, if you can believe this, almost 23 years old. It’s awful, really, such an ugly design, bought from a bootlegger who was working his way along the queue for the gig. But the words on the back are why I’ve kept it; the… Read more »

Elliott Gould

STATELY, plump Elliott Gould answers the door in his boxer shorts; six foot three and built to match, he fills the frame like Samson between two pillars. He lives in an apartment in a quiet Los Angeles neighbourhood, the location of which – somewhat to the left of Beverly Hills – seems apt enough. “Armed Response” security notices… Read more »

Donna Tartt

DONNA Tartt is a little late. But that’s okay. Like the rest of the reading public, I have grown used to waiting for her. We have, after all, waited ten years for her to follow up her first novel The Secret History, a book which really ought to come packaged with an index of breathless… Read more »

Rik Mayall

RIK Mayall is standing in the middle of West George Street, trying to stop traffic. He wants desperately to be photographed having a fight with a taxi driver, but Glasgow’s cabbies just zoom past, honking and waving. “Fuck!” he exclaims. “People are too nice up here! What we need are some Cockneys!” Then he grabs… Read more »

Nicola Sturgeon

THE village of Dreghorn, Ayrshire, one summer evening in 1987. In her home, “Tulsa”, a bungalow down a quiet cul-de-sac, Kay Ullrich, a 43-year-old social worker and SNP ­activist, is preparing to go out canvassing. The prospect fills her with little joy. She has no chance of being elected MP for Cunninghame South. This is… Read more »