When I'm waiting, I think in hours, and in minutes when I’m late. Most often, I think in days, yet rarely of today. It takes a sudden adjustment: a friend's opinion; a parent's confession; the sensation of falling; the present, given as a gift. A date written down purposively: a token. Something to look forward to, and later, back on - to remind me that far more will change than the habits of the sun.

Steven and I are back broadcasting for just one hour this month. Mostly his picks - very nice stuff. Secret pop stars and Fairlight sequences, all found east of the Eighties, with some exceptions.