This may come as a shock to you, listeners, that while I have a record collection that has filled the house and forced my family to live in the shed - a comfortable shed I might add just so you don't get the idea I'm completely Dickensian - there is some music I just couldn't abide when I was growing up. Fluffy boys with swirly hips swinging their guitars as girls swooned and fainted, well they didn't last long at the Hairy Chest & Footy Shorts Hotel. Here is one of those dinky bands, though I gather they were kind of successful playing hairdressing salons.
