Thankfully, this week’s Icon is no longer a thing. Yep, you’ll have had your T in the Park, as one headline nearly put it. T in the Park was a pop festival and, as I’m sure all readers will agree, one fewer festival is one further boost for upright decency. Shockingly, I attended T in the Park once, purely in the line of duty, and I hated every second of it. I never made any friends and, indeed, do not remember exchanging one word with anybody, except once to ask if there was anywhere I could get my shoes shined. Towards evening, I recall walking around a tented area, taking notes for a descriptive exposé that would send shivers down the spine of suburban Scotland. Because I had washed, was sensibly dressed in a trilby and cravat, and had my notebook out, the assembled deranged cannabis ad