Sometimes it's unfortunate that the beat goes on. Sometimes it's necessary to say, "Enough is enough." We have reached that moment. The first time this dawned on me, I was at the gym. Generally speaking, the gym is a haven for terrible, long-forgotten music. A session won't pass without the emergence of a bad early 1990s dance track, my favourite being Mr Vein. Anyway, on this particular occasion my tolerance was stretched beyond breaking point. Roger Waters would have been cringing, surely. Hell, I was physically convulsing and it wasn't even my song to get protective over. I let it...