There should be a general arrangement, an agreement that not one single world leader could dare deny without fear of ridicule or the sound of derision coming from their vocal cynics, that Liverpool really is the home to the female musicians and female rock gods to who could also do a damn sight better job of running the ideologies of all countries. You can find them in every bar, venue and stage sending the guitar into long periods of apoplectic rage and long sequences of beauty that even the masters of the arched pessimist warmonger would have to concede, that they are more powerful, more engaging than all of the rank and file suits put together.