When you grow up the child of a musician you can't help but have the best of musical culture seep into your DNA. My father introduced me to rock, jazz, blues, classical, and began my lifelong obsession with Buddy Rich. My mum was also there. My mum loved Barbara Dickson.
My mum has ruined my DNA, she has mixed in bad songs and big hair to what was an otherwise perfect upbringing. I can't help but smile and think of my mum prancing about the kitchen singing very badly whilst baking rock cakes out of what I presume were real rocks. January February just cheers me up and envelopes me in a mum hug no matter how far apart we are at the time.
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