It seems impossible to be a British male of a certain age and not to have an almost pathological love of Weller and The Jam. I'm no exception.
I imagine a scene like one out of Aldous Huxley's "Brave New World", where thousands of little boys - all in tiny Ben Sherman shirts, Levis and bowling shoes - listen to The Jam piped into their cots until "at last the child's mind is these suggestions, and the sum of the suggestions is the child's mind. And not the child's mind only. The adult's mind too-all his life long."
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