Anyway, Ossonflags you luddite, stop having a go at us Fly-by-Wire Folkies. There is nothing more satisfying to see a session gently accompanied by the hum of a multitude of Comaqs and Dells, with a pile of liptop bags stacked behind the piano. And such joy, when a song has finished to see the clamour of the assembled throng as they try to align their infra-red ports to pass on the oral tradition in the time honoured way. Learning the thing from memory indeed. What are you like?