“You should get a bass guitar”, my school friend suggested. I was messing around with a ‘Stylophone’, picking out the bassline to one of his records. I had no idea such a thing existed, but within six months I had persuaded Dad to get me one for Christmas 1973.
A year later and I had joined my first rock band, Stone Cold Dead. At the first gig, deep in rural Norfolk (we took the gear there in a horse box), one of the crew decided that the dry ice would create more ‘smoke’ if it was put into boiling water. The effect was fantastic but as the wet, steamy fog sank to the floor, it seeped into our amps and shorted them out.
I have been playing, writing and recording music ever since, as fame and fortune have eluded me every step of the way. And yet, having been latterly coerced into coming to the Saturday Morning Canasta Club, there is still hope.
So props to Wilson-Betts for his casual suggestion all those years back – it’s huge fun and very rewarding.