In which we salute the magnificent Peter Green (and hear Owen Parker’s memories of recording with him in the ’90s), look back at the great Q headlines – CarelessTalk Costs Wives! The Hoarse Foreman of the Apocalypse! – flick through a Melody Maker from 1970, spot the fake deejay, applaud the recent Springsteen radio shows and find Bob Marley & the Wailers photographed in lift.
In which we remember Lady Di rollerskating in Kensington Palace with Duran Duran on her Walkman, invent fake rap stars and Mod Revival bands, applaud the world’s first DJ, light a candle for Judy Dyble, relive a Nick Lowe parlour game and watch a sensationally dreadful pop documentary.
Music writer, author and old pal from Word magazine, Graeme Thomson on his spledid new book, “Small Hours: the Long Night of John Martyn”, a tale involving immaculately delicate music, dark undercurrents, Glaswegian folk clubs, Nick Drake, Lee Perry, Joe Boyd, countless chaotic relationships, oceans of booze and a manager with two broken ribs.
In which we shudder to imagine life in a group with Brian Jones, David Crosby, Dennis Wilson etc, chew tobacco with Charlie Daniels, invent reggae acts, ponder the predicament of Kasabian and Lady Antebellum, remember Garry Shandling and Hitchcock’s Rear Window and tell the hoary old Richard Pryor story.
In which we ponder American pop showbiz v shambling British charm, bands v solos acts, Will Farrell’s Eurovision movie, Ed Sheeran’s bank balance, Beyoncé at Glastonbury, which rock star will live the longest and Disco v Grunge in the Stack Waddy game.