Power-walking down London’s Baker Street in rush-hour some months ago, I found myself humming this tune, bestowed upon me by the Euro-Gods – or, at least, their angels-in-waiting.

Having popped in to the nearest Sony Centre to purchase a digital “dictaphone” of the cheapest variety, I repaired to the local Indian restaurant and furtively muttered into the new device the melodic bones of this eclectic and varied piece, between munches of poppadom and vindaloo. Well, you could forget it by the time you got home, couldn’t you? Bet you wish I had.

I was trying to explain this piece to a journalist as being a pun on the study of the urinary tract and its diseases when he asked me if it was difficult to play. “No, it’s a piece of piss, actually”, I offered.

Funny old things, Euro-tunes………