So here was Gregg (stupid spelling, owns a chain of high street bakers) Alexander to lift the gloom of last night’s footballing INJUSTICE. Junior and I sat on the rug, still fretting over Thierry’s future, and nodded along to this power pop marvel, relieved that we couldn’t see the sunhatted twerp of a singer.

I suppose you either love this or hate it. Or everyone hates it but me. As infectious as the germs Junior brings home from nursery each day, it’s a beefy, hooky monster and it offers out Beck, Hanson, Courtney Love and Marilyn Manson at the end. What’s not to love?