Sometimes only Royksopp will do. Their warm melodies achingly cosy, wrapping you up as you face the world. Melody A.M. first came into my life in 2001 and since then has been sonically hugging me stronger with its plucked up strings, kooky keyboards and homely harmonies. And it’s always been there to remind me of a certain lady. A lady who will probably kill me for writing this, who I’ve not always been able to hug as much as Svein and Torbjørn would wish me do so. But their longplayer will always remind me of her, the warmth her home has always provided me, the stylish advice she’s always delivered, the advice she’s administered to help mend my broken heart and the love that she’s always given, without strings, without judgement, and on one occasion, without chaps.

Her devotion to her two boys, both blood and Norwegian, has always ensured a spark in my life, from those Big Chill days to the long winter nights around her open fire, those hot summer days in her kitchen and those family walks on the beach. From those badminton bikini sessions and her Seven Sins sets of the finest filter French house to the decadence of those Coco Club days she’s taught me lessons I’ll never forget, including one about Herbert Lang and Topshop and how the ne’er the two shall meet if I ever want to stop blushing with embarrassment ever again.

And thanks to her I have two shining stars I will always be honoured to call family. Two boys who’ve grown into men I will forever be charmed by, who’ve humoured me and loved me and never judged me, regardless of my faulty wiring. Even when it served up banana candles for tea. So here’s to the lass who made it so easy to be a friend. Thank you, Lene.