XFM Column - September

I've just spent a week at T on the Fringe, which sounds odd. Maybe a week at the Festival, or even seven days in Edinburgh – but no, I properly indulged myself, and my listeners, in "the widest festival in the world". And it was a musical education.

The week started with a session from Guillemots. Now, I've seen Fyfe and the boys performing on TV and was pretty much ready for anything. However I wasn't set for him turning up with a keyboard only slightly bigger than a Casiotone. His enormous musician fingers proved too big for it and we had to stop recording a few times after he accidentally triggered the preset Samba beat. Well, it was Trains To Brazil.

Next up was Willy Mason, a man whose voice must have broken on at least six occasions. It's so deep that boats in the Forth estuary were turning round to avoid the fog. He brought a banjo, which he doesn't really play any of his songs on, so he wrote one that morning especially for the session. He also used a tambourine, which he placed on the floor and tapped as an impromptu rhythm session. I looked on, green-eyed (my musical talents are, at best, remedial – seriously, I can't even shake out a 4/4 on a yoghurt pot filled with lentils).

Wednesday brought on Scouting for Girls. On hearing their Mr Brightside-esque debut It's Not About You, I assumed that here were four chaps with a love of all things Killers. I was wrong. There are only three of them. Their gig was a triumph. Songs about wanting to be He-Man and adolescent crushes on Michaela Strachan (I'm sure that's the right way round) delighted the crowd. Thoughts of Ben Folds filled my head as I stumbled merrily off up the Cowgate.

Thursday saw Kate Nash at our studio. She, and her three fabulously bohemian bandmates floated in, performed two fantastic numbers then tripped off to a deli. I thought about offering my services on handclaps, but I was brutally aware that even my applause was out of time.

Throughout the week I also encountered The Pigeon Detectives, Brother Louie, The Hussy's, Rieser, Penny Blacks and a new and unknown Seattle band called the Food Fighters (sic.). I've seen everything used as an instrument, from a couch to a typewriter, and I've never been more impressed by musicians, or been more woefully depressed at my own lack of sonic ability.