The Barracudas: Hanging Ten in West London

SERIOUSLY, WOULD you expect even one of the skinheads who inhabit the feral slums of Ladbroke Grove to have the slightest notion of the origins of terms as arcane as 'woody' and 'ho-dad'? Neither would I, but the imp of the perverse has been at work again, and The Barracudas assure me that the shaven-topped ones who pursue them down Portobello Road are after nothing more than an autographed single.