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Two of my tracks were played on London's Resonance FM last night, and I've been invited on to perform live. If my Mum's in accordance, I'd like to take her along to the studio with me, as she is singing on a song I'm currently putting together in Cool Edit (I suppose there's a risk that having a matriarch in attendance could be viewed, initially, as an embarrassing display of trendy, attention-seeking cutism, but my Mum has a beautiful singing voice - infinitely superior to mine). She could have had a long recording career - making proper music, singing richly textured ballads with an orchestra. But my sisters and I were born, and she looked after us; and she encouraged me when I formed my first band at school, letting us practice in the garage and driving us and our equipment to and from gigs. A combo of ungrateful boys, fronted by an insufferable megalomaniac (her son), who was constantly at loggerheads with the pompous drummer. And now that no one wants to work with me, my Mum is graciously assisting in the exaltation of my cut-and-paste, bombinating ribaldry.