Kill Your Friends

by John Niven

Steven Stelfox - a totally evil immoral scheming villain with no redemptive features. So why did I find myself willing him on to success? This is a superbly funny expose of the music industry - can it really be this bad? - which I thoroughly enjoyed even when I was gasping at the sheer audacity of this man's idea of career progression.


I crawl across the room and rack up a twelve-quid bill in forty seconds by swallowing three mini-Cokes from the minibar. Everything is mini except for my hangover, which is most definitely fucking maxi. I struggle to place the hangover on my personal Richter scale. Eight? Nine? I try to remember how the previous night ended, but it's like I fell asleep watching some movie and I'm trying to recall where I saw it up to. Then I throw up again.


Money by Martin Amis
Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh
Richard the Third by William Shakespeare

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