In search of the lost cassette and how I discovered Caetano Veloso

Many years ago I lived and worked in Casablanca for a year. I had gone there on a whim, running away from a political and economic atmosphere very much like this one, and the threat of another dreadful winter. Funding had run out on my job, and I had split up with my boyfriend of the time. I travelled light and within a couple of weeks found myself with a job and a shared apartment. We had no music in the flat. One day I was in a car with some new friends driving through Casa, and we passed a smiling girl with fair curly hair driving her car at a roundabout. I can't remember if she followed me home, or if I just bumped into her again within a couple of days, but somehow we became great friends. She was French, working as a nurse. She introduced my flat mate and I to a great crowd of young French Moroccans. She also gave us a cassette player and a selection of cassettes, all anonymous. One cassette was by a Brazilian singer, and I adored it. She told me he was very popular in France, but I never got his name. I left the flat in 1981 and gave her the tape and cassette player back, though I fully intended to return to Morocco once I had sold my house in Manchester. I have been hoping to hear those songs and that voice ever since. When Paul Simon worked with Milton Nascimento I thought it might have been him. I listened to Joao Gilberto and Gilberto Gil, but never had that rush of recognition.My son then told me about Caetano Veloso - in fact we went to watch Almodovar's Talk to Her together, and there is a very emotional scene at a party, where Caetano performs. I listened to as much of his work as I could get hold of at the time. In 2007 I went to see him in concert at the Barbican - an amazing night, with an audience of mainly Brazilian and Portuguese fans, singing along and waving flags! I had read his autobiography by then, knew about his time in exile in London, and his involvement in the Tropicalia movement in Brazil.I still haven't heard the songs I listened to so many times in my Casablanca flat, but I discovered a singer who has become one of my all time favourites.
I was reminded of Caetano by a friend's face book post of him singing a Bob Dylan song this week - I hadn't listened for a while, so it was great to rediscover him. And I still search for that lost cassette.

Long Time Comin'

This is a response to a recent concert that stirred up a lot of history.
It could have been as long as a year ago that I heard a rumour that Crosby and Nash would be touring soon.
Back in April I saw that they were on at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester in early September. My good friend Keith and I decided we had to go and see them whilst we had the chance.
I liked the idea of seeing Graham Nash on home ground, so tickets were booked, and every so often there would be a flutter of excitement as we talked about the concert. I'm sure some people thought we were just a pair of old hippies off to see another pair of even older hippies. There's always the danger of disappointment, when musical heroes age. I had seen the Byrds at Bath in 1970, but I hadn't seen the Hollies or any combination of Crosby Stills and Nash when I was younger.
I read a good review of their recent concerts, but we didn't do a lot of homework or research - just going with the flow.
When the band walked on stage and launched into 'Eight Miles High' we were up there, giddy with excitement! Astoundingly powerful. Then Graham Nash introduced 'Bus Stop' the old Graham Gouldman Hollies' song, for his sister in the audience.
The set went from strength to strength - all the old favourites you could hope for, and some newer songs I recognised from their 2004 album. There was no sense of nostalgia. these were familiar and unfamiliar songs, played by a band at the top of their game.
The banter, the affection, the sense of respect filled the hall, audience to performers, band member to band member. It just kept getting better, and yet there was a sense that the musicians could still go further.
Harmony all around. Graham Nash had old friends and family in the audience. He had received an honorary doctorate that day from Salford University - cue jokes about prescribing for Crosby.
They played for an incredible three hours, with a short, less than 15 minute break.
Emotions flooded back - many of those songs and their lyrics seem to be hard wired in my brain. We talked about how we used to listen. Was it the intensity of youth, or the intensity of the experience of listening to a favourite album again and again in candle lit rooms?
Their political and environmental message - as well as the very personal messages in songs like Our House and Teach Your Children,became the template for our lives and attitudes - romantic and realistic - full of loving kindness and affection.
There was David Crosby's son, adopted and then reunited with him, James Raymond, who had inherited his father's talent for music and song writing, playing in the band.
There were some strange connections for me. My boyfriend of those far off days, Derek Taylor, introduced me to Crosby Stills and Nash's music. He played in a band called Dhyani with a member of Greasy Bear, Steve Whalley. Other members of Greasy Bear included Ian Wilson ( later of Sad Cafe) and Chris Lee ( C P Lee of Salford University among other claims to fame). Who should I bump into on the way out but Ian. And then Chris posted a fabulous photo of Graham Nash in his doctor's robes on facebook.
Keith and I couldn't resist trying to work out how old Crosby and Nash are, though age had nothing to do with the power of their performance, unless it was down to experience and constant practice. Nash is 68 and Crosby 70. It feels like someone has moved the goalposts yet again on what possibilities for creativity the years might bring. Have no fear.
Ironically, outside Bridgewater Hall was a seething mass of fluorescent jacketed policemen, road blocks, closed roads and car parks, all in preparation for the Conservative party conference, and the trouble expected in response to the policies of the present government.

The ones that got away!

I am having a busy summer of concert going, which will no doubt create a few more historic gigs of the future. Recently I have been thinking about some of the ones who have got away. I have been incredibly fortunate to have seen many of my favourite artists - some more than once, but there have been some notable exceptions. I didn't get to the Isle of Wight when Hendrix played, though I knew many who did. I didn't see the Doors at the Roundhouse, but my friend met them arriving at Heathrow. I saw the Grateful Dead at Ally Pally, Pink Floyd and Country Joe at the Bath Festival in 1970. I caught up with the Stones at Knebworth. I saw Fleetwood Mac, but with Stevie Nicks, not Peter Green. Likewise, Steve Winwood, but not Traffic. Clapton without the Cream. Bob Dylan in his later career, not with the Band. The Byrds, but not the Eagles. Wings but not the Beatles. Manchester University famously turned down the free Wings concert so they went to Salford instead. I was in my local pub, the Cross Keys in Eccles, when the news came through. I have seen Nico several times, but never the Velvet Underground.David Byrne, but not Talking Heads. Little Feat with the incomparable Lowell George. Led Zeppelin and Robert Plant.
The ones I feel have got away include Joni Mitchell,though I have seen James Taylor and Jackson Browne more than once, and hope to see Graham Nash in October! Stevie Wonder is another regret, though I am not sure I'd want to see him now, but I have seen the Temptations and Smokey Robinson.Leonard Cohen is a regret too.
Who knows - I got to see Ravi Shankar a few weeks ago, in his 90s and still amazing. If they keep on playing concerts, I'll keep on buying tickets!

Entertaining angels... Sufjan Stevens

This isn't a historic gig in the sense that it happened a long time ago - it's historic in the sense that I will never forget it!
Mid May the founder members of the Bakewell Vinyl Club went to the Manchester Apollo to see Sufjan Stevens. I had seen him a few years ago at Green Man. I had a quick look at youtube to catch up with what he's doing now, and was looking forward to seeing him, but not entirely sure what to expect.
One of the drawbacks of age and experience, and having been to lots of concerts, is that you can't help analysing performer's influences, and actually you just have to accept that they are doing it in the here and now for their fans and their generation.
Funkadelic, psychedelic,Rufus Wainwright's angel wings,Gang Gang Dance and Darwin Deez dance moves - and especially Flaming Lips stage show as seen at Green Man last summer. As I tried to interpret what was going on on stage, I was completely overwhelmed by the spectacle and energy of the performance, the music, the colours, the costumes and movement. And then he would suddenly change pace, come to the front of the stage and pick up a guitar to sing something calmer, quieter and familiar.
He gave a presentation about an artist who had influenced him with his folk art depictions of aliens and other worlds. He talked about the power of sound and movement. The audience were with him all the way through the shifts of mood and energy.
He talked about Space and galaxies. He took us on a journey through the Universe. There were moments when I found it uncomfortable, a complete sensory overload, especially within the confines of a building. Flaming Lips' show was diffused by being an outdoor performance. This was energy bouncing back off the walls and ceiling. There was a point when I thought I wouldn't be able to stand up when the time came to leave - was I having some kind of drug related flash back from my misspent youth? It was intense and it was brilliant, over two and half hours of performance, with a 25 minute song towards the end, Impossible Soul - check it out on youtube - it takes up three videos!
So we talked about it in the car all the way home to Bakewell, and the next day I was still trying to make sense of it when I spoke to my daughter on the phone. Some of her friends had been there. One of her friends had been to a Steiner school, as had she when she was younger. Sufjan Stevens had also been Steiner educated and suddenly all became clear. Rudolf Steiner's Planetary Spheres and their influence - the stars are us, we are starlight. I'd moved heaven and earth ( well, house and home) so my children could go to a Steiner school and was devastated when it closed its doors. Anthroposophy was a big part of my life for some years, and I had heard Sufjan mention eurythmy and theosophy during his performance and hadn't made the connection.
A concert I won't forget.

The Revolution will not be televised

There's an irony to these words in the year of the Arab Spring and the youtube revolutions.
I was really saddened to hear that Gil Scott-Heron had died at the unfeasibly young age of 62. He was only 20 when he wrote and recorded The Revolution will not be televised.
I have a good memory and can usually recall details of concerts I've been to - in fact it's the intensity of the memories and the recall of detail that inspired me to start this blog. With Gil Scott-Heron I'm not so sure. I believe I saw him at the International in Manchester in the early 80s. In a way it's his death that has made me doubt myself - I can't believe I saw such an amazing performer at that time and in such a venue.
There's a website that lists the acts booked there, but it starts in early 1985 and I know it must have been before then. I came back from working in Morocco in 1981, and was pregnant with my first child in 1984, so it was somewhere in those years between.
Around the same time I saw Curtis Mayfield and Bo Diddley at the same venue ( different nights! - that would be too much!)
For those concerts I can recall where I stood, who I was with, who I bumped into at the bar, but seeing Gil Scott-Heron has a vaguer, dreamier quality to it. I can't blame drink or drugs - maybe it was a more intense experience. I was drawn to his name as well as his music - like a little poem in itself..
If someone told me I'd imagined it all, and that he didn't play Manchester during those years, I'd accept that I'm under a delusion, but I'd also be really impressed by my ability to conjure up a Gil Scott-Heron performance in my dreams.

This one's for Gerry

Back in 1967 I was sent to boarding school, with my sisters, because my parents went to live and work in the Far East. Overnight we lost friends, home and parents, and had to adapt to a very different way of life. I still haven't recovered from the shock. As a young teenager in Manchester I had started going to see groups, mostly on the package tours that were in their hey day then.I had seen the Kinks, The Beach Boys, the Walker Brothers and the Small Faces by the time I was 13, with Gene Pitney, Roy Orbison and Dave Dee Dozy Beaky Mick and Tich and others thrown in. Simon Dupree and the Big Sound ( remember 'Kites'?) and Terry Reid singing with Peter Jay and the Jay Walkers.
When I got to boarding school there was another new girl from Manchester, Gerry. We became friends and are still in touch. I know she reads this blog. She was more sophisticated, more aware than the rest of us. Not so much in appearance and behaviour, but in attitude. She was intelligent and articulate, with a hint of a drawl in her accent. She had lived in Canada and Ireland. She had plans, ideas and opinions and a great sense of humour. Ours was a hugely important friendship for me. I would have lost my Manchester links if it hadn't been for her, and her family's hospitality at half terms and school holidays.
Most people who are interested know that Top of the Pops was first recorded in a converted church on Dickenson Rd in Manchester. The BBC had another former church studio they used for radio shows, somewhere on the derelict borders between Hulme and Moss Side, before redevelopment. Dave Lee Travis was the compere. the BBC Radio Orchestra played the hits of the day and there would be performances from actual pop singers. It may even have pre dated Radio 1. One school hoilday we went to queue to become part of the audience. After the show we headed across the wasteground to the last pub standing where everyone gathered. Excited girls hung out in the car park area, waiting for autographs. Somehow we got into the pub ( aged 14 remember) and got into conversation with Kiki Dee and her manager Vic Billings, who had also been Dusty Springfield's manager. I know I was much more of a listener and observer than a participant in those days, but Gerry had ambitions to be a record producer and was very savvy about the music scene. We were invited to meet up with them at the Midland Hotel the next day to continue the conversation. All absolutely above board - they must have seen the spark in Gerry. This was before Kiki Dee had her big hit with Elton John.
It was one of those times when you realise adults are treating you with interest and respect - we didn't get a lot of that at school or from our parents in those days.
We tried to go to concerts in the holidays - I remember seeing Peter Frampton and the Herd at the Odeon with her. I wonder how we bought tickets - no access to a phone, no cheque books even.
Then she discovered Roger Eagle's Magic Village, took me there the next chance we got, and for me the rest is history.
We are making tentative plans to start to go to some concerts together again, and I can't wait!

Vini Reilly and Durutti Column

Many years ago, when I was working at On the 8th Day in Manchester, my friend Tony Wilson came in and told me about his new band. They were named after an anarchist movement, The Durutti Column aka the movement of the 24th January. I was thrilled, as that was my birthday!
A couple of years later my boyfriend at the time was their roadie, and a couple of other friends played in the band.I'm not sure if I ever actually saw them play, but I certainly went with them to where they should have played.
Life moved on - friends moved to other bands, including a Simply Red connection.
In the early 80s I moved to a house in West Didsbury.Bruce Mitchell lived in the next door adjoining house with his family and Vini. Vini's room was the other side of the shared party wall from my bedroom. My daughter was born at home, in that room, to the sound of Vini playing his guitar. He had no idea of what was happening on my side of the wall. The midwife was very impressed as her son was a big fan.
Years later, I shared this information with my children when they discovered Vini's music.
They have been to see him with me a couple of times.
Last Saturday I took my youngest son, now 17, to see Vini and Bruce at Bridgewater Hall in Manchester.
It was a difficult concert for Vini, as he is going through a difficult relationship break up, made all the more poignant by the beautiful photos of Poppy that were part of the performance. She also played on stage with him. Photos of Tony Wilson, and Bruce and Jackie were also part of the display.
It was very raw and quite miserable, but we stuck in there with him.
After the interval he came back and did some old favourites, including Otis. Bruce Mitchell is still the best drummer in the world for me, and Charlie loved the performance.

Because the Night

Looking through last year's diary for something, I realised it is almost a year to the day since I saw Patti Smith. She came to Sheffield to do a concert as part of the Robert Mapplethorpe exhibition at the Graves Art Gallery. Tickets for the concert sold out very quickly, but I found out she was doing a lunch time talk in the tiny Library Theatre in the basement of the library and gallery. I took the day off work and headed into Sheffield on the bus. The bus broke down on the outskirts of the city - luckily another one did come along! When I got there the audience was mainly made up of people around my age. She was very late, and some had to head back to their city centre work places. John Robb was booked to be 'in conversation' with her. She was wonderful.
Just Kids had recently been published, and she and John talked about her early career and her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe. She also spoke of her decision to take a break from her career to raise her family. She was totally inspiring- someone you would love to call your friend. She ran over time, and called her guitarist up on stage at the end. As she sang "Because the Night Belongs to Lovers" we all joined in. What a privilege. If you had ever told me back when I first listened to her records that one day, decades down the line, I'd be in a tiny theatre in Sheffield singing along with her, I would have thought it was pure fantasy. Wish I could do it again.

Something good

I watched Forever Young on BBC 4 on Friday night. Peter Noone of Herman's Hermits was featured. He revealed that he was only 15 when they had the hit single 'I'm into Something Good'. The summer I left my junior school we were all invited to the summer fair at our new secondary school, Adelphi in Salford. The school building is now part of the University of Salford. I think it's their media department. Herman's Hermits were booked to play in the gym and they were fantastic. We were smitten with Peter Noone's boyish good looks! Within a month I was listening to 'I'm into Something Good' on Radio Luxembourg. I think they were from North Manchester. Some years later one of my friends claimed to have been 'sacked' from the band just before their successful first hit.
It's still a song that brings a smile to my face, infectiously optimistic, full of life's promise.

Reggae got soul

BBC 4 has been doing some fantastic reggae related programmes over the last couple of weeks including Reggae Britannia.
My Boy Lollipop was probably my introduction to Jamaican music - we all thought Millie was wonderful, and she wasn't much older than us. Then came the skinhead/ska era, and Desmond Dekker's The Israelites in 1969. I still have an old ex-jukebox copy of a Prince Buster single. Like soul and Tamla Motown it was part of my musical background, but through my later teens I became a bit of a hippy and took to bands like Love, Traffic, Derek and the Dominoes, Captain Beefheart and others too numerous to mention. By 1973, at the age of 19, I was part of a rock n roll revival band in Manchester, and my musical horizons were expanding once more. My friend Tony Wilson ( later of So it Goes and Factory Records fame)told me to go and see a band called the Wailers if I got the chance - he had seen them in London in the late summer of '73. I was about to start an English degree at Leeds University, and as luck would have it, the Wailers were booked to play at Leeds Polytechnic early in the term.
I am so pleased that I saw them at that Catch a Fire moment. Their later success was fantastic for them, but there was something very special about them at that time.
I never got the chance to see them again. Some years later when I lived in Morocco there were always rumours of Bob Marley playing a concert there. Sadly it never happened, and by the time I came back to England he had passed away. He was a truly international artist - Bob Marley and Manchester United were topics of conversation wherever I went in Morocco!
Watching Reggae Britannia reminded me of some of the great musicians I saw in those few years - Culture (2 7's Clash, not Club), Burning Spear (at the Hacienda believe it or not), the Cimarons, Steel Pulse, Aswad,possibly Big Youth and/or U Roy - some of it gets a bit hazy as you might imagine.
I have just heard a bit of Bob Marley's last ever concert on the radio - a number one album in the States at the moment apparently.
Lively up yourself!

Box of Rain and the Grateful Dead

Listening to Bob Harris' radio programme on Friday night, I had fallen asleep to the sound of the wind and rain outside. Wild weather continues this week, though I have just seen the glimmering of a faint rainbow across the valley outside. I woke from my half conscious state to hear him play the Dead's Box of Rain. What a wonderful sound. I was transported back to other half conscious times I'd heard that lovely blend of psychedelic country folk. In fact much of my favourite music now is of that genre - Vetiver and Devendra Banhart come immediately to mind. I know I saw the Grateful Dead twice, but I'm not sure I was really concentrating. Bickershaw Festival in May 1972 was the first time. More rain than would fill a box there. I was working in On the 8th Day's Joe's Cafe. We were pitched between the stage and Caroline Coon's Release tent. A great spot. We were constantly busy serving rice and veg, muesli and hot drinks. There was an element of a disaster area about the site, though it was an amazing festival. I have clear memories of Dr John, Hawkwind and Captain Beefheart - and of course the man who did a high dive into a tub of water!. If the Dead's set really lasted as long as they say on the websites, I probably did a couple of shifts and slept a few hours during the time they were on.
So many friends were Dead heads back in the day . I remember someone's motorbike petrol tank painted with the American Beauty album cover design.
In September 1974, whilst I was at Leeds university, and newly married for the first time, a group of us went to Ally Pally for one of the three nights of concerts. Again, it's a bit of a blur. I do remember the panic on the M6 on the outskirts of Manchester. The conversation had turned to who actually had the tickets in their possession - and of course they had been left at home. We still made it to the concert. Happy days.

The Durutti Column

I have just got tickets for the Durutti Column at the Bridgewater Hall on April 30th. I can't remember how many times I have seen or heard them in the distant past, but I think this will be the fourth time in the last ten years or so. Many years ago my former boyfriend was their roadie. A few years later I lived next door to Bruce Mitchell and Vini Reilly with my former husband. The band would occasionally rehearse at home - very civilised, Bruce would come round to let us know, and it was always during the day. The houses were semi detached, so Vini's room shared the wall with our bedroom. I had my two older children at home in that house, and when I was giving birth to Vicky, Vini was playing guitar next door, unaware of what was going on. It's 26 years ago on January 26th! Unbelievable. The midwife who attended me was very impressed - her son was a big fan. As Vicky and Jamie grew up, they discovered the Durutti Column and I was able to tell Vick this story. We moved from that house in 1987, but they have met up with Vini at one of his concerts. The Durutti Column name came from an anarchist group known as the Movement of the 24th January, according to Tony Wilson - another connection, as that's my birthday! I'm looking forward to seeing them at the Bridgewater Hall - it will be an interesting venue.

Burundi drummers in Halifax

Last week I went to listen to a talk a neighbour was giving to a local WI group. She runs a small charity in Rwanda in her spare time, raising money for very practical projects. Her talk was illustrated by some great photos. I hadn't realised that Rwanda was a green and very pleasant land - lakes, forests and hills. One photo looked just like the Peak District, until I realised the earth was a deep dark red. Burundi used to be part of Rwanda, and I guess the landscape is similar. Many years ago I saw the Burundi drummers play in the courtyard space at the Piece Hall in Halifax. It was a surreal and inspiring experience. I had first come across their music on Joni Mitchell's Hissing of Summer Lawns, possibly my first experience of world music in the west, though I do remember that John Peel occasionally played unusual tracks from far flung places.
On that fine summer evening the distinctive rhythm of the Burundi drums echoed through the galleries of the Piece Hall and round the hills of Halifax. I appreciate now that the landscape of Calderdale may not have seemed as alien to the performers as I had imagined.

Terry Reid

I knew inspiration would come thick and fast for this particular blog. I have scrawled pages of band names and associated memories in a big notebook, so I don't forget who I want to write about. A song heard on the radio by chance, news of an untimely death, buying tickets for gigs in Spring 2011, connecting with old friends - it's all going to prompt me.
Last week my old friend C P Lee posted a link to Terry Reid's new Irish tour on Facebook.
In the mid 60s there was a fantastic run of package tours in Manchester. A theatre was a more respectable venue for a young teenage girl to visit- I didn't hit the basement dives until I was about 15. My friends and I saw an amazing range of artists including the Small Faces,the Beach Boys, Gene Pitney, Roy Orbison, Dave Dee etc, the wonderful Walker Brothers ( oh how we screamed for Scott). On one of the package tours, at the Odeon as I remember, there was a band with a great young singer - Peter Jay and the Jaywalkers. The singer was Terry Reid. The single was The Hand don't fit the Glove, and he was unforgettable. In the early 70s I rediscovered him as a solo artist, and some years ago ( before Spotify, Youtube and even Amazon) my lovely children tracked down River on CD for me for Mothers' Day.
I'd like to try and see him again this year.

Stuck in the Middle

I had a feeling that events might prompt memories, and sadly it's a death that has prompted this one. Gerry Rafferty died earlier this week, and even the Today programme played Baker St. I first came across him as a member of the Humblebums with Billy Connolly - such a daft but happy name. When Stealers Wheel were touring the university and college circuit in 1972/3 I went to see them at Salford University. At the time I was part of a hippy dance troupe, formed by Allan Prior. By day he was a computer wizard, working for ICL. By night he was an idiot dancer, leading a group of like minded in his wake. Small, round, with a red beard and longish hair, he looked like a character from the Hobbit. I don't think he had any academic background in computer studies. He had just grown up with them. I believe he eventually got a honorary degree, possibly from one of the Manchester universities. He enthralled us with his visions of a computerised future - the idea that sound and vision could be combined - computer driven light shows - all too much! He had six children - where are they now? - and sadly he died of cancer mid to late 70s. Thanks to him, as his dance troupe we were on every guest list for every gig or concert in the Manchester area. Salford University gigs on a Friday night were particularly good. I can remember seeing Wings and Curved Air there among others.
For some reason when Stealers Wheel played we shared a dressing room! Our status as dancers may have been to do with how amazing we were, but you have to remember this was a time when the audiences sat cross legged on the floor, nodding their heads to the music. So a group of hippy dancers were worth watching - especially Juliet Begley!
Someone from the band told me to listen to Pharaoh Saunders, so I did. This is how you learnt about music in those days. Luckily I worked at Salford Library at the time, and they had a record lending section. You had to take your stylus in to be inspected, and if it made the grade you could borrow LPs.
How times have changed.....

My back pages

I was about ten years old  when I went to my first concert. Music has always been really important to me. At Junior school we argued the relative merits of Cliff and Elvis until the Beatles and the Stones hijacked our lives. I fell asleep listening to Radio Luxembourg and Radio Caroline from an early age - absorbing lyrics subliminally. Johnnie Walker signing off with "Let me wrap you in my warm and tender love". Lunch time discos at the girls' grammar school I went to featured records hot from the Twisted Wheel. 1967's Summer of Love took me into new worlds.

The first LP I bought was the Temptations' 'Getting Ready'. The second was Love's 'Forever Changes'. My father had already introduced us to Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Dave Brubeck on one of his flying visits back from working abroad. 

There's a soundtrack to my life. Songs and lyrics are more evocative for me than any smell of baking. I know I'm not the only person that feels this, and I find that if I let myself focus on the memories, I can recall the experiences. Nearly five decades of seeing live music, as well as listening to radio and records, and all the other ways you can access music nowadays. You tube is amazing for reliving the past - every style of music exists simultaneously through the internet. In recent years I've shared old and new musical interests with my three children - something that's constantly evolving and developing.

I'm starting this new blog as a travel through time, but I may change that plan to respond to events - the sad recent death of Captain Beefheart inspired me to put a piece on my first blog, Life and Death in the Peak District - it's the last post (no pun intended, but I quite like the idea of that).

Music has always been my inspiration and comfort - and live music, going to see bands, working in clubs and concert halls has been a really important part of my life - and continues to be so.

I hope you'll enjoy reading these experiences as much as I'll enjoy recalling them.

First group I went to see

I listened to Annie Lennox on the radio yesterday - she chose Waterloo Sunset by the Kinks as one of her all time important tracks.
She reminded me of how important the Kinks are to the development of contemporary music and song writing. They were the first group I ever saw. It would have been 1964, I think, and they were on a package tour at the Eccles Broadway. The Broadway was a cinema, and I don't remember there being concerts on there again. I'm convinced that Marianne Faithful was on the same bill, accompanied by a guitarist who could have been John Williams. There was also a singer called Bobby Shafto. the Kinks wore their matching pink jackets and were fantastic. What a privilege to have seen them back then.