One of the memories that will be filed away in the old steel-trap (hah!) brain from this concert will be this: turning around and seeing a 50+ dude with a humongous beard, eyes closed, snaggle-teeth fully visible, bellowing lustily along with Ian and the boys on Aqualung and Locomotive Breath. Old rockers never die…
Other memories? Of course, me hearties. Walking up on stage all glam for a change wearing painted-on gold-speckled slink (Rzu’s orange pants, Rojew’s pink-glitter shirt, wow), seeing 4000+ people waiting, all the awful bum notes I played, Jupiter Cafe, Bend the World, Prakash falling asleep during sound check (and the wonderful non-veg sandwich episode), the wife running up to give everyone hugs.. so much more. Mr. Anderson (dare we say it like Mr. Smith?) was quite a guy. Meeting the rest of the band, chatting about basses and accordions and small shops in Cornwall. (Now I can definitely stick up my lil finger at parties!).
‘Twas a good gig, methinks. Only wish we had a better soundcheck, and perhaps that that jam with Mr. Anderson happened. Anyway. Can’t complain, old chaps.
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