I hop off the London train at Midland station, say farewell to Charlie, and head home to Mum and Dad’s house at Sheffield Lane Top. I give them a brief summary of the weekend:…

9 Across. Frank Zappa’s got one (10). Above my head, ten thousand tiny mice tap-dance on the tin roof. It’s raining again. I’m in a four-berth caravan, hunched over the NME, trying…