Former Melody Maker reviews editor, blah, blah, blah, ex-features editor at NME.COM, blah, blah, written for Rolling Stone, MixMag, Muzik, Zoo, and a ton of magazines and websites no one remembers anymore, etc. And so on. And so forth.

Set up and ran warchildmusic.com, breaking an entirely fictitious record for the fastest-selling download album of all-time with ‘Help: A Day In The Life’. It was fast though.

Lives in a house, a little terraced house in the country, runs some other websites, still loves music.

If Wensum Lodge means anything to you, this might prove useful.

I was born in Sutton-in-Ashfield in 1967, which makes me 42. My family are originally from York and slowly migrated south over the years due to my dad’s work. He’s retired now, but worked in the building trade all his live.

Their first move was from York where they were born and bred. My grandparents (sadly no longer with us) worked in the city’s chocolate factories, Rowntree’s and Terry’s, which meant sweets were free and plentiful in my early years. Sweet, quite literally.

My parents’ first stop was Nottingham, but when I decided it was time to make an appearance the local hospital was full. Cue a full tilt dash to Mansfield, where my dad was promptly sent home to await news. My brother was born in Nottingham, no such dash required.

We moved to Grantham, and my dad promptly landed a job in Castle Donnington, so we didn’t see him Monday to Friday. My sister had arrived by then and my mum tackled three children under six without batting an eyelid. The travelling clearly wasn’t enough for my dad, so somehow he got a job in Norwich, lodging on Unthank Road during the week. He never failed to show up on a Friday night bearing comics, which not only made him the world’s best dad, but probably accounts for my publishing career.

Eventually, we did the sensible thing and lived in the town where he worked. Why we didn’t do it sooner is anyone’s guess. I was nine when we moved to Norwich and it wasn’t exactly the sprawling metropolis it is now, ahem, so I fled at the first opportunity. Great Yarmouth first, and when I realised I could cook and do my own laundry I moved to Sheffield, then London, then Norwich again, then London again, then Norwich again. Almost moved to New York once. But didn’t. Iceland was an option at one point too. I’m nothing if not my father’s son.

Jobs. I’ve had a ton… a waiting job at the Falcon on Cromer Road where I used to dress up as Mr Beefeater on Sundays in exchange for two packets of fags… Andy’s Records on Lower Goat Lane in Norwich where I started working just as I was due to sit my O Levels. Failed most of them for obvious reasons. PRS in London, postman, barman, extra on Inspector Morse, Mitsubishi delivery driver…

How I ended up as music journalist is a whole other tale. Ask me about it next Thursday why don’t you?