THE TAYLOR PLAYLIST

Sammy’s going through a little Taylor Swift phase. Now, I don’t mind Taylor; I really don’t. The Swifties aren’t exactly my people - I mean the ones who dress up in sparkly boots and swap friendship bracelets - but I don’t object to her particularly.

However. For some reason we’re listening to the same few songs in rotation. I think it’s a playlist. Sammy has to listen to it from the beginning every time. I haven’t quite got to the bottom of why she’s so against the Shuffle button, but she is, and, as a wise man once taught me, you really do have to pick your battles.

So the first few songs on the list fill the air with saccharine sunshine and lyrical brilliance. I do mean that - for me, there are few better storytellers. She has a turn of phrase that’s almost Shakespearian, and an emotive way of connecting with, well obviously, millions of people.

Maybe I should emulate Taylor, and write songs about how I can’t play Beethoven at full blast in the kitchen without getting funny looks. And yet (listen, I can’t do this as well as she can) the other way round, it’s not the same same same.

It’s not the same.