I remember asking the late John Peel about whether he had any friends that shared his own musical tastes. He replied back very dryly "Few and far between, I'm afraid. Not many." I'd kinda hoped he'd elaborate on who these mythical people were and why weren't they on the radio (who knows, maybe they are). But he echoed how I feel about who I could say shared my musical tastes: few and far between.

Most shall remain nameless, but one person who has turned up recently is Emma. She made the mistake of e-mailing me with faint praise on my listings service. Arrived fresh from the U.S. and eager to consume all that London has to offer. Her twin tenets of techno and noise are currently aligned with mine. I made friends.

Of course we have differences; our definition of noise differs. She doesn't jive with jungle, yet is happily down with dubstep.

As a result of her presence though, she's triggered a resurgence in my back catalogue of all things American. From Tommy Boy's street-corner hip-hop (key album Paris' 'The Devil made me do it') to the first wave of Detroit Techno (R-Tyme's 'R-Theme' will be played at my funeral).

It's actually opened some sort of floodgate of all things Detroit.

One night (due to being stuck abroad on work duties) I managed to read from cover to cover the brilliant 'The Manual: How to have a number one the easy way' by Bill Drummond & Jimmy Cauty. For those of you who remember the nineties, they were better known as the KLF. Pop-terrorists par excellence (check Wikipedia for a definitive article). Amongst the many gems that littered the book, here's one that's apt:

"The Techno sound of Detroit, the most totally linear programmed music ever, lacking any human musicianship in its execution, reeks of sweat, sex and desire. The creators of that music just press a few buttons and out comes a million years of pain and lust."

Next time I'll mention Andrew, he's Mancunian.