Consider the front man (or woman) in music.

A peculiar breed, indeed: Robert Plant, Mick Jagger, Simon Le Bon, Orville. Yes, I’m being frivolous. Mick Jagger can’t touch Orville for sheer hutzpah and drug-crazed behaviour.

They are born as front men. They need a band to express themselves. Without a band, they are the most annoying fucking people you will ever meet. Mum and dad never gave them the importance they needed. In your gang, they were the ones who threw stones at windows then fucking legged it, leaving you and your mates to pick up the pieces – of broken glass.

Johnny Marr, I love you baby.

A window into this relationship is the great quote by Keith Richards. When asked, “Keith, when will all the bitching in the band end?” he replied, “Ask the bitch.” Oooh, that’s gotta hurt. A world tour later and – KERRCHING! – all is forgiven.

Here is the important bit in this piece. Shall I just fill the word count with other names? No, because I’m working class and not a lazy bastard.

Mark E Smith? Yeah, let’s talk about El Presidente, shall we? It’s ‘77 or ‘78, who gives a fuck. We are teenagers hell-bent after seeing So It Goes with that weird guy off Granada Reports – Tony Wilson? Yeah, let’s form a band. Can’t play, no instruments. Let’s get into town and see what’s happening. What’s happening is a rehearsal room at the bottom of Deansgate, behind the wonderful hostelry that is and was The Britons Protection pub.

Who are this disparate band of reprobates, willing to let us scruffy lot into their rehearsal? They are The Fall. “Come on in, have some beer, take some drugs. We need a following.” This, of course, is my wet dream fantasy of what happened.

Anyway, children, after listening to the band play Deep Purple tunes for an hour, the great man walks in, carrier bag with Stellas and words. And by the way, kids, that’s all you’ll ever need in life to get by. Not a word about us ligging about – we just got on with it.

And whaddya know? The best front man I ever saw gave us a personal performance. And us? Yep, you guessed it. I work on an industrial estate. YEAH YEAH!

Brian Rooney