Paul Connor was certainly an eccentric, with his unkempt appearance and unexpectedly cultured accent, but his performances of his own poems ranged from bonkers to truly spine-tingling.

Do you remember the one he did comparing the colours of the Autumn leaves to those of the tramcars belonging to different companies, that used to run in Manchester and Salford? Lovely. Or the one about 'The Better Part of Eccles'?