Indulge me a moment, `cos I know it`s an indulgence, but it sometimes hits me in the chest, and literally stops me breathing. This nostalgia.

Indulge Mr. Marr a moment as he revisits his musical past (The Smiths & Electronic) to illustrate the story of a boy who would practice chords in the dark, when his parents were asleep, the way clichéd children like myself listened to the radio under bed clothes.

I would give anything material, possibly even a body part, or a few years of my span, to play guitar like Johnny Marr.

To be honest, I would gladly part with all of my records to reproduce only this:

If there is a message to be gotten (get it?) then it is for me to stop wasting time late at night drinking and watching Youtube clips of Johnny joining Pearl Jam for “All Along The Watchtower”, and instead tune the second-hand six-string, that was a 20th birthday present, and that artistically occupies a corner of a record room, gathering nothing but memories and knocks to its varnish.