The music world is in debate as to what lies ahead. Record companies will soon be gone. No one's crying. But new musical artists are wondering how, in the internet age, they will get sufficient focus on themselves to rise to the top. Bit by bit fresh promotional mechanisms will emerge; in the meantime the new style music industry would do well to keep an eye on the world of art.

A couple of weeks ago Julie Burchill was complaining in the Independent about people who use the C-word. She thoroughly disapproves. But I think she's wrong. It's a splendid word. A super word. A great full-stop of a word. Uttered with a suitable amount of venom, it can bring any conversation to a complete halt, whereas its miserably overused cousin, the F-word, has lost all power to shock. LANGUAGE WARNING: For those left uncharmed by a more liberal usage of our great Anglo-Saxon tongue, please read no further...

At school, the other big decision was religion. We were told point blank we had to believe in God. There were school prayers every morning and the only way to avoid them was to be Buddhist, Jewish or Moslem, in which case you could wait in a small room next to the library. But over the last few years there've been ominous rumblings about a religious gene - a gene that creates an unstoppable need in people to believe in an all-powerful gentleman in the sky. This would put religion on a par with homosexuality - not a choice, but something you're born with. Which brings me to bagels.

Record companies are the past. Nothing wrong with them - they served a purpose, and the names of their labels were a part of our lives. But like larders and linoleum and cars that didn't start on cold mornings, they belong to another age.