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You will always, unreservedly and unashamedly come second. He'll have more intense relationships with his bandmates than he'll ever have with you. Heck, if we didn't need to be at work at nine, we'd also be tempted to sip rioja in the kitchen at 2am on a Tuesday night, chewing the cud over whether Jeff Buckley's finest hour was prophetic in the wake of his unexpected demise. You don't get his Talking Heads circa reference but you laugh anyway and hope it slips under the radar. He can't fathom why you paid £50 to see Alt-J when he could have made a call and got you backstage. To the average musician, going abroad is for tours only and 'holidays' consist of watching old movies or meeting his friends in artisan coffee shops or dinge-bars. If you don't want to be sat alone at an hour's notice for the fourth time this week, eating ice cream and crying while you watch Ian Beale crying on Eastenders, get yourself a back-up plan.