17 Things I Learned From Reading Every Last Word of Mojo Mojo is my favorite magazine in the world. It has a Web site, but most of its content is available only in its glorious, sumptuous print edition. The November issue cost me $10.99 at a West Village newsstand, and it was worth every penny. Here's what I learned: Phil Oakey of the Human League says the "Saturday Night Fever" soundtrack is his all-time favorite album, and I think I might agree. Ed. note: Phil Oakey turns 56 today. There was a hardcore subgenre called Powerviolence. Can't decide if I love this version of "Sweet Child O' Mine" or hate it. Let's call this genre Hatelove. Alice Cooper looked only slightly less wrecked as a 24-year-old than he does now. In 20-plus years as a performer, Jakob Dylan has never covered one of his father's songs. Probably tells you all you need to know about what kind of hands-on pop ol' Bob was. The first album that Chan Marshall, a k a Cat Power, bought was "Metal Circus," by Hüsker Dü. She was 11. When your 11-year-old starts rocking out to this in her room, you know that Barbie is dead. And that you will soon be, too. According to Marshall, Iggy Pop writes texts without spaces between the words. Paul Weller played with the drummer Rick Buckler in the Jam for 10 years, but has not said more than two words to him since 1983. Weller has said that he will only consider reuniting with his bandmates if his children were "destitute and starving in the gutter." Billy Gibbons, the frontman of ZZ Top, lives three doors down in Houston from George Herbert Walker Bush and was once peeled off the sidewalk by the Secret Service after a hard night out. As a younger man without that ridiculous beard, Gibbons was not bad looking. ZZ Top just made an album with Rick Rubin. Carly Simon tries to cry at least once a day because "it's good for the skin." Jimi Hendrix opened for the Monkees on tour and was booed off the stage, according to the former Monkee Michael Nesmith. The first television appearances by Jerry Seinfeld, Gary Shandling and Jay Leno were on a short-lived music variety show produced by Nesmith. How much money would you bet that David Byrne could write a better book than John Taylor of Duran Duran? Didn't happen this time. The Mojo review scorecard: four stars for Taylor, three for Byrne. I want to see "East End Babylon," a documentary about a forgotten punk band called the Cockney Rejects. The doc "manages to articulate more about the U.K. in the late '70s and early '80s than any sane person could rightfully expect." Remember the incessantly played video for "Come On, Eileen"? Well that virile street urchin bopping along in a scarf and overalls now looks somebody's old weirdo uncle. But still making fine music, says Mojo. I'll trust them on that.