Hey ho, lets go.

The song begins with a deafening assault upon my ears.

I'm sitting here with my headphones on and the Ramones are kicking seven bells out of Blitzkrieg Bop.

I've had a couple of joints and the music is connecting with me. The temptation to whip the headphone cord out of it's socket throw open my windows to the world and blast it across the Edinburgh rooftops, until the police come to kick my door in to seize my stereo and possibly beat me with sand filled saps, is huge.

Instead of doing this I satisfy myself by dancing around my livingroom playing my electric guitar.

(Before you think I'm bound to make more noise than the Ramones could allow me to let you into a small secret... My guitar has no strings.)