On the morning of 11th March 1996, I stumbled from Poole Hospital Maternity Unit in a maelstrom of exhaustion, elation, bewilderment and sheer terror. Having done a singularly poor job of looking after myself for the past 24 and a bit years, I was now responsible for the wellbeing of 6lb 8oz of mewling conehead. Objectively speaking, newborn babies are not overly attractive things. Nothing fits yet, everything is bruised and battered, and a faint smell of an abbatoir lingers. In my confusion, however, I managed to retain two certainties. Firstly, that this alien beast I had just left with his beaming mother was the most important and wonderful thing that had ever happened to me, and secondly that I should probably go and buy some music…

Back in those halcyon days of the music industry you were spoilt for choice for record shops in Poole. Woolies, Smiths, Boots, Our Price, HMV, all flourished profiteering from the Britpop wars. Falcon Records in the Dolphin Centre was my choice. I didn’t know what I was looking for, I just knew that this had to be a significant purchase – Babylon Zoo wasn’t going to cut it. Like one of those prodigal » Continue Reading.