For new music I generally read an effusive review, check out a track or two on their My Space page (or similar), then decide that I can safely forget all about it.

I’ve long come to accept that I’m never again going to be as excited as I was when I first heard, for example, Horses, The Ramones, Marquee Moon, or The Cramps, let alone the 60s music (and the 50s that inspired it)that was my first love (“and it will be my last” as that horrible song went). It’s now more likely that I’ll find something I like from before I was born than from the new century. As Dylan said on his wonderful Theme Time Radio Hour when one of his fictitious listeners enquired as to why he plays so much old music – “there’s more of it”.

Having said that, the odd new act still permeates my consciousness, even on Later with Jools Holland, which usually makes every act appear as dull as ditchwater, I did enjoy Dengue Fever (although credit should go to Charlie Gillett’s World Service radio show, where I heard them first).

But, returning to topic, like Mark P I get my best input from the young – my kids Joie and Will. They’re forever pointing me at things the record companies haven’t sent me (and believe me I do appreciate the privileged position I’m in of being sent free music daily).

I have not consciously listened to pop radio for decades. I think i stopped in the early 70s because i already knew then that I wouldn’t hear what I wanted to hear on the radio. My major source, even in the sixties when I lived in Edinburgh, was the music press. I’d read the reviews, check the American reports and then head for the record shop to see what I could a)find and b) afford.

There was a group of us (hello Stuart Cruikshank, Brian Hogg, Nic Datnell, Ernie Whiteoak) who, every Saturday morning, would be in Bruce’s on Rose Street, and then drift to another one near the ABC Cinema whose name escapes me and by the afternoon we’d be in the Record Exchange on South Clark Street.

There was no danger that I’d hear the Velvet Underground or Buffalo Springfield or Terry Riley or The Zodiac Cosmic Sounds (ha!) or The Sonics or Moondog on the radio. (Peel excepted)

Now I check anything my kids recommend, listen avidly to the stuff I’m sent by the record companies and find things serendipitously on the internet when I’m searching for other things. (Isn’t that the title of a John Lennon song?)

I’ve also learned not to worry if I miss stuff at the start. If it’s good enough to endure I’ll almost certainly encounter it in time. And, hell, even if i don’t what’s the loss? There’s no shortage of good new things to hear.

Just heard Bat For Lashes for the first time this morning. I’ll be checking that out again. And I saw Just Jack on E4 Music. I had no idea he was popular enough to be on the telly. And Get Cape Wear Cape Fly being consulted as a pundit on anger on that late night arts review thingy with Thirsty Work.

There’s more music about, it’s more accessible and it’s not being dictated to us by Smashie, Nicey and their oily ilk, or by Top Of The Pops which, please god, nobody ever brings back.

For the record, I also make regular Best Of CDs for the car. My current one entitled “Songs 2009-ish” includes Bitter:Sweet, Kanye West (2), Broadcast 2000, Maria Taylor (2), MC Lars & YTCracker, Gaslight Anthem, Malajube (2), Killers, Laura Marling, M.Ward, Alphabeat, It Hugs Back, Ting Tings and Gomez. (Plus Lush’s version of Magnetic Fields’ I Have The Moon, which I rediscovered the other day when I was putting my Lush albums onto my iPod). Fabulous. There isn’t time to listen to all the good stuff now. Isn’t that wonderful?