Forgive the unexpected intermission. Where were we? Yes, that's it. I was fumbling around, trying to get the hang of living in a wheelchair in a new part of London, waiting for my broken back to heal a bit more. But in my last update, I glossed over some of...

So here I am. Still adjusting to wheelchair life, having swallowed enough mephedrone to rouse a rhinoceros and then jump off a flyover. I try to confine my communications to email and text. The other methods - phone and face to face - well, I might say something regrettable. I...

I am searching for a lost album. I don't mean 'lost' in the sense of being an undiscovered treasure (though it certainly is that), I mean it literally. The master tapes for Pamela Polland's Have You Heard The One About The Gas Station Attendant? from 1973 have apparently vanished. Help...

I've never raised my head above the parapet before. I'd recommend it without hesitation. There's great freedom in revealing oneself in a wholly unflattering light as I did with the piece about taking mephedrone and breaking my back. It's bracing, for certain, and you have to get ready...

It's 14 November. I've just broken my back. I can't walk. I'm on the trauma ward at St Mary's Paddington, dimly aware that three of the people I love most are hovering around the bed - Huw, Arabella and Gordon. Arabella keeps telling me not to move my neck.

'Killing Me Softly With His Song' is a Roberta Flack tune, right? Of course, there's that other version of it, the one by the Fugees, isn't there? And the composers of the song are Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox. This is the received wisdom that completely overlooks the vital contribution...