Recently, while driving down the A9 from Inverness on a rare day of unfaltering sunshine, I was blasting out a copy of Miles Davis's ground-breaking classic Bitches Brew and had an epiphany of sorts – I am a jazz fan.

Not that I hadn't known this already, but it was suddenly and abundantly clear in my mind that a huge amount of music I consume daily is from that heritage and its ever-evolving sonic palette.

People have misconceptions about jazz, and the chances are many don't consider themselves aficionados at all; but jazz is constantly around us, permeating all genres and styles. Far from being the sole preserve of goatee-bearded, finger-clicking hep-cats in black polo necks, it shape-shifts and takes hold in many different areas.

I can safely say that those blue notes and syncopated beats have been with me as long as I can remember, since I first heard music in any guise. My earliest memories include Henry Mancini's masterful Pink Panther theme and Baby Elephant Walk on a 7" vinyl single given to me by my grandmother; and Dave Brubeck's Take Five was on constant rotation in our household, ensnaring me with its numerically challenged time-signatures which I still love to this day.

From the Benny Goodman homage by the Star Wars creature canteen band in Mos Eisley, to the Jungle Book soundtrack featuring the irrepressible Louis Prima, as well as various James Bond themes along the way courtesy of John Barry, unbeknownst to me, my childhood was littered with jazz motifs and codas that have left a deep and lasting impression.

As someone with an inquisitive mind, especially concerning music, I'm always slightly suspicious if I meet someone who claims to hate jazz. I can certainly understand if free-jazz or hard-bop is too difficult to digest and doesn't appeal, but surely hearing the music of Duke Ellington is guaranteed to enrich any life. The sheer joy and loose-limbed expression within this music with its endless possibilities is utterly liberating. Moreover the sombre, opaque and reflective moods equally at work within jazz forge atmospheres unattainable in any other music.

Venturing further and taking tentative steps in uncovering my own identity as a pre-teenager, I was exposed to punk rock and fell hook, line and sinker. The comparisons between it and jazz may not be hugely apparent at first glance, but punk's wild abandon and disregard for rules and clichés shares a lot. When uncovering the tribal post-punk of James Chance And The Contortions, Pigbag and Blurt, the fusion of the two styles seemed natural – blitzkrieg energy, untamed performance and an unhinged brass-fuelled sound-clash.

Soon I was back-tracking into The Stooges primal, sax-led opus Funhouse and discovering the off-kilter skronk of Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica. It wouldn't be long before the true originators such as John Coltrane would show up on my radar. Likewise when Vic Godard And The Subway Sect, The Monochrome Set and Glasgow's own Jazzateers infused their more debonair compositions with suave, slinky jazz stylings, a generation of indie kids and I took note.

This is how music works – you need that crack to appear initially, then the floodgates open. If you seek out the avant-garde saxophone violence of John Zorn, the freewheeling improvisation of krautrockers Can and Faust, or the jazz-punk hybrid of Minutemen or Nomeansno, then it's only a matter of time until you find Ornette Coleman, Charles Mingus, Thelonius Monk and an entirely new, uncompromising world opens up to you.

Then there's hip-hop. As I left school I was lucky enough to experience a halcyon era. Pilfering, sampling and re-inventing jazz, groups like Gangstarr, A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul blazed a trail and served to turn an entire generation onto the "swung note". Although much-maligned now, Acid Jazz was also hugely popular at the time and pointed many listeners, including myself, towards new timbres and arrangements. Soon I'd be attending performances by Maceo Parker and discovering the 1960's boogie quintet sound of Blue Mitchell or guitar virtuoso Grant Green.

Electronica has completely embraced jazz as well. Just listen to skittering drum programming and slap bass of Squarepusher and you'll soon notice his deep love of Weather Report. He is undoubtedly a modern jazz musician, albeit one who adores techno and drum'n'bass, bringing a new laptop generation to the party.

Unless purposely nostalgic for big-band swing, jazz continues to remain a vital and progressive form of music. Its dynamic free-form philosophy manifests itself everywhere, whether in R'n'B and hip hop, the visceral, twin-saxophone attack of Melt Yourself Down, the playful, wonky electronica of Luke Vibert, the extreme spazz-metal of Dillinger Escape Plan or even the cerebral experimentalism of Radiohead.

Scotland's scene is alive and kicking too. Later this week, the Glasgow Jazz-Fest will be in... ahem... full swing, running until June 30. Tommy Smith is now professor of jazz at the Royal Scottish Conservatoire, guiding their first ever course on the subject, and also directs the Scottish National Jazz Orchestra, widely regarded as one of the best big bands in the world. This year's Scottish Album of the Year Award longlist showcased Konrad Wiszniewski and Euan Stephenson's New Focus. And Stephen Duffy of BBC Radio Scotland's excellent Jazzhouse programme informs me there are now approximately 65 youth jazz orchestras across the country.

I love jazz for its attitude and moods, its effortless modes and melodies, its counter-rhythms and enormous scope. It can be all-encompassing and I only wish I could represent it more on my radio shows. As it is, I barely dip my toes into this vast ocean as a fan and an amateur, learning about the music's past, present and future.

Vic Galloway presents on BBC Radio Scotland, 8.05-10pm Mondays, www.bbc.co.uk/radioscotland. Contact Vic at www.twitter.com/vicgalloway. The Glasgow Jazz Festival runs June 26-30 and includes a rare gig by former Postcard Records act Jazzateers on Thursday