Mick Middles

THE myth of Manchester’s Factory Records weighs heavy and, churning through this extensive box set, one can’t help but wonder why.

A ‘GOONER’ in LA!

Mick Middles takes a walk on the wild side of Bollington

I have always felt happy in Compstall and Marple. Several younger versions of myself – from the grubby oik of the sixties, to sullen teen, dutiful dog-walker, newly-wed of the eighties, Berghaus-clad hiker of the nineties and middle-aged jogger of the noughties – have spent long periods in and around the area.

Mick Middles has lived life as a vegetarian for 20 years. Here he continues his light-hearted look at what that life choice has meant to him and those around him ...

A COUPLE of years ago, when middle-of-the-road rock band Foreigner visited the Manchester Apollo, the gig was preceded by a convivial wine tasting.

DREAMY canals doused in mottled sunlight. Sullen mills and welcoming pubs. Woodsmoke drifting over the rooftops.

THE image has cracked. Once, and not long ago, one had to pity the poor Chianti. Back then, with Italian wines languishing in French shadows, it suffered terribly by way of its own mid-seventies success.

IT is as elegant as a man can be. It is to wallow in sheer unashamed quality.Imagine this. You walk to the heart of Soho...to Berwick Street to have a suit fitting at Lutwyche Bespoke Tailor.

Focus on the work of iconic photographer Martin O’Neill