I could be wrong, but in another world, where John Lennon wasn't murdered and George didn't die, would The Beatles have ever got back together? Lennon and McCartney had become friends again, but George was still the dark horse. You know the multi-million dollar offers would've been on the table, but you know what? I don't think George would've done it.
Mick Fleetwood once said that the first time he saw me walking back from school in Notting Hill Gate he knew I was the girl he was going to marry. We were both sixteen and it was the summer of '64. The first time I saw him play at Brentwood Town Hall, I felt as though I'd been plugged into an electric socket.
John McLaughlin plays the guitar with a fluency of expression rarely seen. Others, like Coltrane and Miles, have possessed this fluency, and like McLaughlin, used it as a way to tap into a spirituality which today eludes most musicians. But what links these musical geniuses is an intensity of self-enquiry borne of a golden era of music.
Serious-minded songwriters have returned. Gone is the foul, metastasising era of Stock Aitken and Waterman and their 'Hit Factory', swept aside at long last by a tide of musicians dedicated to making music of depth that resonates with a music-loving public, a public which is awakening from its own bad dream of botox, gussets and 'Zig-a-zig-ah'.