THIS week’s column is all about the glories of DIY. No, not putting up shelves or mending stuff — I know nothing of that. My very occasional, thoroughly reluctant and totally useless attempts mean that my wife now interprets that acronym as Destroy It Yourself.

I’m talking about DIY culture, as practised by people in the arts world who, for all kinds of reasons, don’t work with commercial mainstream agents, promoters, publishers or venues but organise their own gigs and events and release and distribute their own material.

It’s a movement that undoubtedly has its roots in the punk explosion of 1977 and one of which I have been a part for 40 years. It has become an increasingly easier modus operandi since the late 1990s, when email and the internet were born.