I was trying to cook and needed something to listen to but for all the marvels of the modern world, with every song ever written at my fingertips, I could not choose. Did I want something sad, or would that make it worse? Happy, or would that feel false? Could I cope with new music, or would that exhaust me? The answer was simple: radio.

Tom Cox sums this aspect of guilty pleasures up perfectly in his tweet: ‘What people mean by the term “guilty pleasure” 99.5% of the time is “something genuinely joyous pretentious dickheads told me not to like’’.

There’s just something about hearing a womxn making strange, boundary-breaking, eerie sounds that made me want to sob deeply and simultaneously screech in excitement without explanation. And it still does.

On a chilly February evening, I went to see Big Thief at the Eventim Apollo in Hammersmith and had no idea how momentous that night would later become. Gigs have been a consistent source of joy throughout my life, and I never imagined I’d go a whole year without one.

It leaves a question hanging in the air: what do we gain from clubs, as a collective people? The answer will no doubt vary for each individual, and to this individual the possibilities seem more numerous than one can fit into a single article.

In a world connected by social media, everyone dancing to the same song has a certain pull, and it’s easy to see how the popular songs have resonated with people and affected the charts.

From iconic vinyl stores in Cardiff’s markets and arcades, or running through London’s high street charity shop baskets, to picking up neglected classics from Devon’s antique, thrift and vintage barns; there’s something about discovering music in this way that never gets old.

The speed at which they are produced, the focus on entertainment (not actual talent) and the often cruel and merciless backlash that contestants face all being the subject of talent show criticism, which begs the question, are these shows a valid means of finding credible talent?