I remember the feeling of reading it for the first time in London. It was like eating marshmallows topped with vinegar. I didn’t understand the story behind it at all. Did we produce the wrong recording at the wrong time for an unprepared audience? About half a year later I met the guy who wrote the crap in Paris. Virgin booked him a flight to review a gig we had over there. I bumped into an introverted, shy and pseudo-intellectual wimp who tried to convince me that he just had a bad day while writing the review for the MM. Even today there are too many idiots out in the media jungle. We don’t give a damn about what they think or write. Pretty boy Mick Jagger was right when he made his comment back in the 70’s: “I don’t care what the papers say ´bout me, as long as they spell my name right.”