Tomorrow night (Saturday 22nd Feb) ahead of next Tuesday’s star studded concert for Peter Green in London, Sky Arts are showing the Rumours edition of Classic Albums followed by the wonderful, two and a half hour documentary Peter Green: Man of the World.
I put my hand up six weeks ago.
After 40 years, I put my hand up and asked a question.
“Can you help me? Because I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
Luckily, the person sitting three feet from me was a GP.
“I can,” he said.
He sat and listened to me for twenty minutes, moving his chair so that he was directly in my eye line, even though I couldn’t make any eye contact. It’s a symptom of my depression.
He was wonderful. An anti-depressant prescription and a referral to Talking Therapies. He gave me his mobile number and told me to come back in two weeks. When I shook his hand he held mine in both of his. I looked into his eyes for the first time.
“ Trust me, that was the hardest thing you will ever do. That twenty minutes has taken you fourty years to get to but you will look back someday and it will be the best thing you have ever done. Well done.”
A week later I asked to speak to a particular lady in H.R at work. She could see I was distressed, got me a cup of tea » Continue Reading.
I bow to no one in my love for The Mac. From Greeny’s Looking For Somebody (which I used to teach myself to play drums to) to Say You Will, I have everything, and love it all. However, it’s way past time that Danny Kirwan got the credit he more than deserves. I would contest that he saved the band. When Peter, and then Jeremy left, it was Danny that carried the torch, flew the kite, fanned the flame. Tell me this isn’t the dogs. https://youtu.be/Kf9xxeeluHM
A freshly digitised Fleetwood Mac, ‘Got To Move’, from their first Top Gear session 12/11/67, with Tommy Vance outro (yes, he co-presented with Peel for a month or two).
…I can wrap it around myself like the softest, most comforting blanket there has ever been.
I love Fleetwood Mac. What I mean is that I love every incarnation of the band. From my 11 year old stirrings, as my older brother played Greeny solos endlessly, through to the Rumours line – up, and beyond, I love it all. But, if you were to threaten to nail my head to a coffee table, my favourite era is the ‘lost one.’ The Danny Kirwan one. Bare Trees and Future Games are difficult to find on streaming sites but, in my opinion, they are 2 of the great albums. And they have, in Danny, some of the best English guitar playing of the 1970’s. And yet, to many Mac fans, they might as well not exist. When Danny was sacked, in 1972, he had been in the band for 4 years, through 3 different line-ups, and had an Olympic standard drinking problem. He was 22 years old. 44 years later, I miss his guitar playing just as much as Greeny’s.
Going to see the Mac next week . Mrs Wells is keen and so long as they play Green Manalishi I’l be happy. That’s a joke. I was surprised how few of the songs of this version of the bandI actually know. But that s not what this is about.The attached review makes mention of how Fleetwood introduces and thanks the various back up singers and musicians but failed to mention a back up drummer behind the amps.
How long has he had a drummer hiding behind the amps?
You know the type of thing: Two or more songs soldered together to make a bigger, better song. Here’s Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain. Show your working out, if you can. I’ll put the demo pieces of The Chain in the main thread…
Something made me turn my head. A sound? A movement? I couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was, it had stopped my journey home, my reverie. I stood on the deserted pavement and looked around. It was nearly 3 o’clock in the morning and the last car to pass me, in either direction, had been ten minutes ago. I unscrewed the top of the half-bottle of Jameson’s Whiskey and swigged the familiar liquid. I was pissed. I was alone. Years later, looking back, it has become apparent just how alone. I put the bottle back in the pocket of my Greatcoat and trudged on. I had left the pub early, the sound of Thin Lizzy ringing in my ears. The walk to the train station took twenty minutes. I had been walking for nearly an hour. I was lost.
The pub was in Shepperton, one change on the train from where we lived. In other words, an effort. But an effort worth making. We had heard that there was this pub, The Ship, that was suddenly playing great music on a Friday night, a few weeks earlier. We had ventured over to the unfamiliar surroundings 3 Fridays on the trot. This » Continue Reading.