My dad Daniel once traded a box of dodgy trainers for a secondhand guitar just so I'd stop singing Oasis into a hairbrush — taught me you don't wait for the right moment, you make do with what you've got. He'd sit on that fold-up stool at the market all day, knees knackered, still finding energy to joke with the regulars like they were royalty. Reckon that's why I can't walk past someone struggling without gobbing off at them to let me help. 🎸