So let me begin by telling you the tale of Summertime as it was this year at the Edinburgh Festival, where late one night, or early one morning, an eager Englishman approached the stage and, within certain earshot of his partner, asked if we might play Summertime. Thing is, it's a great tune, but I never want to hear it again. I must have played it at every wedding I've ever been hired for, and half the jazz gigs too. It's become one of those select few tunes that everyone knows, along with Girl from Ipenema or, until a few years ago, In the Mood. And this guy, chancing on what for him was a jazz gig in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, felt compelled to do that thing that people who never go to jazz gigs do if they want to show how often they go to jazz gigs: he made a request. Now we're not Tony Blackburn, but we are an obliging bunch of lads and personally I felt a little sorry for the man - he had missed the point by such a long way and he had payed good money to come and see us but we were up at the festival to play our music, not some old dredged up dirge. It was the last number of the night, at very nearly half past two in the morning, and after a short consultation with the boys, we resolved to play it in as many different keys as possible. I was in E minor, Dunc was in G minor, Maff (rather tastefully, I thought) was somewhere in F minor, and so on. To - it must be said - rapturous and - it must also be said - undeserved applause we got through two choruses before the horns were laughing too much to blow coherently. We were able to go to our beds safe in the knowledge that we had made a young man very happy whilst pushing forward the boundaries of musical stupidity, and we returned to the bandstand the following night with extraordinary vigour.

Just as we were about to go on, another eager Southerner came up to me and asked whether we could play Bohemian Rhapsody. "No", I muttered through my beer glass, "not a chance". "Well then how about Summertime?" he asked. "No, that's not possible" I explained. But I was too curious to let it go, so I went over to his table. "Sorry to bother you", I began, "but I wonder if you could tell me what on earth possessed you to come to a serious jazz funk gig and request Summertime before you've even heard a note?" "Oh, it was just because of the radio", he replied. "Radio?" I asked. He went on to explain that he had heard, on a local radio station, possibly Firth FM, bless them, that there was at the Pleasance a band so amazing that it could play Summertime in six different keys at once... and this young man had come to hear us do it. And I spend weeks getting up at four in the morning to tape 4 seconds of blackbird, I spend further weeks building a website, I write letters, I send out demos, I hustle for gigs, we rehearse, we write, we play our arses off but I now realise what we are doing wrong. The real publicity comes another way. Our next CD will feature a selection of Gershwin's greatest hits all played upside down. It's sure to be a winner. Order now...