I blame Nicky Campbell

You see many moons ago, Mr Campbell used to have his own show on Radio One.

For a boy doing his exams, Into The Night was an occasionally wonderful distraction from the rigours of revision and every now and again, he'd put on a theme night - to all intents and purposes an excuse to play his favourite tunes.

There was one I committed to tape (remember them?) from start to finish, unperturbed by concerns that home taping was killed music (and that?).

It was BBC night: the songs of Beatles, Bowie and Costello (do you see what he did there?) and included some of the less obvious moments from these three pillars of popular music.

I remember him playing Costello's heartbroken and heartbreaking Alison, and the stars shone for me when I heard it a few years later at Glastonbury. It wasn't even night time.

He played Happiness Is A Warm Gun, which took me out of the cosy confines of the Red Beatles compilation album my parents got me for Christmas and into another musical world altogether.

And he played Time by David Bowie, my personal pop idol was delivered unto me.

It was the beginning of a musical love affair and, Mr Campbell, you might still behave like an overgrown schoolboy on the radio but your Theme Night is something for which I am truly grateful.

Don't get me wrong, I was hardly a musical innocent at this stage, more that it exposed me to things I hadn't heard, something bold and more than a little exotic and thoroughly exciting.

It did what the best music writing also does, it gave me something new.