Well. It all begins in 1976, at that fateful gig. Or so some would say (they would, wouldn’t they) as it has become “an endemic component of one culture’s collective consciousness to recall everything,” and put everything in relationship to – that one fateful event, when everything changed, for 43 people – also known as, ‘The Gig That Never Happened.’
Later we would put things right by having a gig of our own, that nobody would come to. At least that seemed right – I mean, we hadn’t come this far to flog someone else’s music for absolutely no return. We had finally worked out the missing ingredient from our imminent fame and success, which was that the words and tunes needed to be ours.
We were signed by EMI during a power outage in April 14, 1977, but by the time the lights came back on, our business there – and Upper Management – had changed, and we were out looking for representation again, as well as another label.
Twenty-four years later, as I find myself scribbling this on a bottle of Ribena (not easy, as it keeps rolling off the little train table), I find it hard to believe that the Heritage industry has in fact been so kind to us. We continue to play in-demand shows at even more in-demand venues (Ed. …OK, just re-read that, will you.)
Our past seems like an easy street since we came out ahead, with none of the late-career band rancor tearing us apart. We’ve simply never gotten along from the first day. The touring machine rages on, sweetly on.
Nothing can stop us now.. Our star still shines brightly ahead. Thanks to you, all the fans.
14 January 2020