The set list was Popsong, Reconnez Cherie, Semaphore Signals, Take The Cash, Walking On The Surface Of The Moon with huge ambient/psychedelic interlude leading into Joe Meek, Ladypower (new song), If It Makes You Happy, Kilburn Lane (terrific instrumental section), The Sound Of Your Living Room (part 2), Magnificent Party, Gasoline (very stretched out with symphonic tape loops recorded off the radio and big fuzz guitar), Whole Wide World (twice!) and Sign Of The Chicken.

Wolverhampton was a bit of a laugh. If you're going there by way of the M25 don't go through Reading - it's a big mistake, although you do get to see quite a bit of small town England on your way up to the M40. Stay on the M25 and don't be discouraged by the traffic jams. Becci came along to keep me company and do a bit of merchandising. She's a bit better at reading maps that I am. It seemed to take all day to get to Wolverhampton which is odd because it only took three and a half hours to get back afterwards.

The club, the Varsity, is a standard rock box - it even had a barrier in front of the stage. It's the kind of place that the Climax Chicago Blues Band would fit right into. They offered us some dinner, which was just as well because it was part of the agreement. Then they said they'd run out so they were going to give us some money to go and eat out. They gave us five pounds between us so we went and got some chips because it was getting too late to eat by then. We've still got one pound sixty each left over from that which we can spend on anything we like. I don't know about Becci but I'm hanging on to mine.

Because it was a punk symposium organised by Wolverhampton University I asked the audience what they'd come for, what they wanted - nostalgia or authenticity. I was very disappointed when most of them shouted back nostalgia. I said that punk had been defined and redefined and identified as "Welcome to the Kings Road" picture postcards of spotty youths with rainbow-coloured Mohicans and leather jackets with "Anthrax" on the back, but I didn't think that was true. If I'm supposed to be one of the originators of punk, and if punk still exists it's not about the past, it's about the present and the future, then they couldn't possibly know what punk is, because they couldn't know what I was going to do next. A bloke at the front asked "are you going to play some songs now?" I looked at him and said, "No." Then I explained that I dictated the pace, not him, and played three songs in a row - Joe Meek, Lureland and Reconnez Cherie. I carried on with The Golden Hour Of Harry Secombe, Final Taxi, and If It Makes You Happy (I think). John Cooper Clark had been there the night before and left a request that I play Someone Must've Nailed Us Together especially for him either though he wasn't there anymore so I did. I also effected a live string change which involve playing the guitar with my foot. The highlight of the set for me was an unexpected rant against life in the eighties - the dialogue and the guitar just fell together perfectly and built up to something monstrous. I finished with Whole Wide World and explained that I wasn't going to do an encore and left it to the Vibrators. Everybody went into the bar and the Vibrators started their set to an empty room. They were very proficient for a punk group and they even did a singalong bit in Baby Baby. I find it all somewhat reactionary. I suppose some fat cunt will be upset by that.

We're getting ready for the annual Labour Party sorry New Labour Party Conference (they're a bit like the New Seekers) here in Brighton. It very good for our town that they hold it here. It means that people stay in hotels, and they all buy a knick-knack to take home with them so that gives a real boost to the local economy. They also shut off a lot of streets around the Grand Hotel and Conference Centre, block off part of the seafront, post police marksmen roofs, film everybody for security purposes, close Marine Drive so that the fuckers can park their cars there, shut the Odeon Cinema complex for the duration, and fill the sky with helicopters which buzz around twenty-four hours a day. On top of that they expose us to the huge risk of terrorist action. You never see the top arseholes walking around town or frequenting the many bars and restaurants - like putting money into the local economy. They should hold it on a military base somewhere instead. I don't know anybody who wants them here. This year McDonalds are sponsoring a £15,000 reception at the conference. Our government is in effect endorsing a world-wide junk food company. I think the government wants us to eat shit.

This is going to have to be quick because I've got a plane to catch - I'm going to Venice for four days. That's right, I'm going on holiday. I need a holiday to recover from the shock of doing three gigs in a row. I haven't done anything so hectic for a couple of years at least.

Anyone who was at the Boston Arms on Friday should tell you that we were utterly fab - if not they've got something wrong with them, or I'm deluding myself. I know when we're crap - like last time we played at the Boston Arms, but this time we had it together and we actually enjoyed it. It's a shame it wasn't spectacularly and widely advertised, but that's the promoting game for you. I'm sure they know what they're doing…

The Boston Arms is a bit of a puzzle - it seems to be full (or should that be half empty?) of people who spent 1984 pretending it was 1966 and now it's 2001 are trying to re-live 1966 in an attempt to re-locate 1984 and their sadly mis-spent youth. While we were playing I could see some of them having difficulty doing the sums.

I was very pleased though to meet Paul Campbell who was there with his son, James. Paul's a star of my sporadic letters page. I suppose I should do another letters page before the world changes irrevocably and the latest collection of letters become irrelevent. I didn't have to deal with any nutters or arseholes afterwards, which was very refreshing. Don't get me wrong, I really like meeting people, it's just that usually I get to talk to the creeps and weirdos. Not this time though. Everybody I met was really nice. I even had fun, although I didn't get to autograph any ladies bottoms this time. (Not that I ever have, but I nearly did in Thetford).

Afterwards we drove to Kettering and stayed with Will's parents. Will had trouble finding their house - not just the house, the town they lived in too. He kept saying 'nearly there now, this is the home stretch'. And then he'd drive round a roundabout three times trying to sort out where to go next. The next day his dad told us that Will used to get lost on the way home from school. He's turning into a really good drummer though.

I didn't have time to finish what I was saying before I went to Venice darling. Venice is very water-based but I expect you already know that. Bits of it reminded me of the Lanes in Brighton. We went to the Biennale which is a huge exhibition of contemporary art that happens every two years, much like the Dokumenta in Kassel (Germany) which happens every five years. It took two days to see it all. My favourite bits were a Japanese installation of the MacDonalds arches with a huge synthesiser chord playing continuously - the synthesisers were hanging on the wall with elastic band round them holding down the keys. My other faves were videos by Mark Wallinger and Tracey Rose.

Rugby was pretty good - good for us even though there weren't that many people (half full - but at least it wasn't half empty). Wilko got off to a good start but unfortunately Norman fainted from heat exhaustion halfway and couldn't carry on. He was in the dressing room surrounded by nurses - lucky chap.

We drove back to Brighton overnight - some of us did anyway. I was a bit knackered for the Sanctuary gig and my voice was a bit close to shot. It seemed to go alright though and I recorded it. There are about three useful bits.