Like Frank Sinatra entering a karaoke contest, my friend and co-conspirator Richard Brincklow recently decided to follow up being paid by people to compose music by going to university part-time to study for a degree in music composition. It turns out this week that the jammy bastard has been awarded a First. I suppose I should congratulate him. Nice one, Richard; I’ll be wanting that crib sheet back now. Bloody contemporary musicians: bunch of weirdos hitting rusty washing machine parts with tyre levers over the din of treated pianos playing backwards—and all at the tax-payer’s expense I don’t doubt.