As I sped into Doncaster in my reasonably-priced car, memories of my childhood came flooding back. There was the site of my old school, where I was frequently berated by teachers for my poor academic performance. And there, on the high street, stood the hallowed entrance to the Arndale Centre, now rebranded as the terribly Continental-sounding “Frenchgate”. This was the location of Bradley’s Records, the scene of one of the most pivotal moments of my young life: the purchase of my very first cassette tape.

I remember that day well. A youthful Jezza (as absolutely no one called me back then), resplendent in my tank top and flares combo, striding manfully into the record shop with a fistful of paper round money tightly packed in my even tighter Levis.

I headed straight for the Genesis section, my gaze settling instantly on their seminal 1973 concept album, Selling England by the Pound, which I already owned on both vinyl and 8-track formats. “But did I have it on cassette?” I asked myself. Clearly this oversight had to be rectified post-haste.

I emerged back onto the high street clutching my transparent plastic prize, giddy with excitement at the prospect of enjoying the prog rock stylings of early Genesis on a portable format. Cassettes represented freedom and possibility; I could listen to Peter Gabriel’s erudite musings about the debauched state of Britain wherever I pleased – even whilst ignoring teachers’ instructions in woodwork class!