Credit crisis diary: Censored for bashing the banks

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The Independent Online

Henry Priestman, the former lead singer of The Christians, is now fighting a one-man musical battle against banking greed. His single "Don't You Love me No More" is a lament to a friend made redundant by a bank, and is getting decent airtime on Radio 2. Sadly, however, the banking community has prevented the accompanying video being screened – they don't like the fact it features many of their logos and are threatening legal action. Henry's management is now appealing to the banks to see sense. Best of luck with that.

Takes one to know one

Elsewhere in the banking world, the negotiations go on over the fine print of the asset protection scheme, the insurance plan that would limit British banks' exposure to toxic assets. But why is a deal taking so long? The Government's advisers include the US giant Citigroup, which presumably knows a thing or two about bailouts, having been on the end of one giant soupçon of help from the US authorities itself. Maybe it needs to share some of its own experiences.

Don't count on that knighthood

The really amazing thing about the asset protection negotiations, however, is that some of the former masters of the universe at Citigroup, Credit Suisse and Deutsche Bank are apparently giving their advice for free, or, at the very least, for much reduced rates. Let's hope they're not expecting honours for their services instead – it'll be a while before the Government feels minded to hand out any more gongs to bankers.

I predict a riot

Get your email in quick, to That's the address to which applications for tickets for the regional tour of the Treasury Select Committee must be made. The meetings start in Stormont, Northern Ireland, and members of the public are entitled to ask the MPs on the committee about the credit crisis. What a shame there won't be any bankers there to field such questions.

Roman reads all about an old rival

Spotted: Roman Abramovich, breakfasting alone yesterday at the rather swish Wolesley in Piccadilly, London. The Russian billionaire must have enjoyed perusing the morning papers over his croissants. They were filled with reports of the problems at LDV, the van manufacturer owned by fellow oligarch Oleg Deripaska, who last year pipped him to the title of Russia's richest man.