At my school – an all boy type institution – you fell into one of three camps. You might have been an indie-loving sort – rubbish at football and with enormous sideburns to prove you didn’t care about sport. You could’ve been a games-lesson-loving trendy with your facial furniture shaved to the ear so that not a single wisp of sidie adorned your non-hippy head. Or, finally, you may have been a ‘grebo’ – a metaller who broke all the rules and grew hair long, neatly trimming undergrowth with a devastating operation called an undercut – a number one or two all the way around the area below your scalp.
Mr Frank Musik, it seems, is stuck somewhere between these three schoolboy stages.