A few days ago, I was sitting around, obsessively Googling my own name - as you do - and I came across this. It was on a website dedicated to New Romantic bands. It's the first piece of professional journalism I ever did - for the New Musical Express.
However I wouldn't trouble you with this juvenilia - if it weren't for the subject of the interview, a band called Seona Dancing. The band's members, all two of them, got together while they were studying at the same University as me (UCL); indeed I knew the singer moderately well - his name was Ricky. Ricky Gervais.
Yes, THE Ricky Gervais. The guy from The Office. And - just look at him back then! all thick wavy hair, diamante earrings, and cheekbones. Ah, life.
Seona Dancing came a bit of a cropper. They produced one fine single, then one crap one; neither troubled the charts too much. After that I think their label dropped them. I remember my friendship with Ricky, such as it was, likewise dwindled at that point. We all decided he was a bit of a loser, and lost touch with him. Never go anywhere, we thought. Poor Ricky.
These days I occasionally bump into Ricky. He lives on a street near me. Every time we pass each other, we exchange nods. Of course I know very well who he is; as for him, I'm not sure. When we nod at each other a vague and perplexed expression comes over his face, as if he's thinking: 'Who's that? Didn't I know him once? Where have his cheekbones gone?'