We are only weeks into this year – bleakest January is over, at least – but I am confident I have already seen my favourite film of 2018, and it is Phantom Thread. I went in cold: almost no knowledge of its content and close to zero expectations, the pedigree of actor Daniel Day-Lewis and director Paul Thomas Anderson aside.

Over the course of 130 minutes, I fell in love with cinema, with sound and, perhaps, with life itself. The combination of the (stunning) performances, the lighting, the music, the mood it evokes meant that by the end I was giggling with glee, shaking my head, and idly contemplating quitting my job so I could attend film school.

I went home afterwards and immediately bought the stupendous, extravagantly lush classical score by Jonny Greenwood, and I have not stopped playing it since. Loud. If this were the 90s and it were a cassette, I surely would have ripped through the delicate tape like I did with my copy of Bobby Brown’s Bobby album. While I have no need of my cassette surgery skills in 2018, I wonder as I did then: perhaps my neighbours hate me for this, or are grateful for the blessing of transcendent music – who can say?

But I play this score when I am on the move, too, marrying my not-quite-resolution to walk more with the drama of a persistent, plinky piano. This is startlingly expansive music, liable to make the listener believe they can leap buildings in a single bound, and when the strings sweep in, in the middle of House Of Woodcock, it’s all I can do to remain tethered to the Earth. In the dark, walking home with a brisk wind at my back, I feel invincible.