Every morning around 8am, I wake up to Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers - then, realising how pretentious I am, I remove it before the postman arrives.

I don’t eat breakfast, but if I did, I’d butter my toast to Stuck in the Middle With You by Stealer’s Wheel. Of course, it was featured in that infamous "ear scene" in Reservoir Dogs.

Strolling down the avenue to get a packet of onion-flavoured Monster Munch and a copy of Your Cat magazine from my local newsagent’s, I would definitely have to be listening to the excellent Out Town by Iris Demente on my Walkperson.

On the way back from the newsagent’s, I’d sneak into The Grafton, say a few hellos, have a quick scoop and put on I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues, by Elton John. Now there’s a classic.

Without a doubt, the best song to smash a pub up to is Love on a Farm Boy’s Wages by XTC. I’ve only ever done it once with a football crew - it was the most delirious free-for-all I’ve ever experienced.

If I was ever to dance with wild abandon, which isn’t very likely, to be honest, it would have to be Jump Around by House Of Pain. It’s a quick walk home from The Grafton - but I’d make it faster, I’d do bunny-hops the whole damn way.

After the immense feelings of guilt and self-loathing that can only be associated with lending a hand in impromptu pub-refurbishment, the song to come down to, I’m saying, has got to be Broken Wings by John Mayall.