Aha. Blaming me for what happened to the couscous is it? Let me tell you the incident connected with that couscous is burned into my consciousness forevermore. Scarred me for life it has.

That's the reason I wander into the Belvidere singing daft songs about The Barons and The Spoons and taping everything up with sellotape and demanding entry to that little back room. I know what you've got going on in there. Yvonne and Jane singing rude songs, that's what. Total corruption of public morals, that's what it is.

And just around the corner from the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Hall as well! A repository of everything in music that's ethical and noble and dignified and proper that place is. It's so world renowned even that bloke Vladimir Ashkenazy has been known to tickle the ivories once or twice there.

And I've got my tickets for their Americana weekend with BeauSoleil avec Michael Doucet and Steve Riley & The Mamou Playboys. So there.