So sad to hear of his passing. Sad, for several reasons… when a hero dies, of course, one thinks first of the person and his family and the sorrow about it all, followed with the wider recognition of the rich legacy he left behind. But linked with that, somehow there is grieving for one’s own lost childhood.
I was about ten years-old when Fats came into my awareness.
It was around the mid eighties, after Perfect Strangers, that Bruce, Jon and I decided to have a ski holiday in Colorado and to that end we rented a huge house in Keystone for nine days. I think it had five or six bedrooms, a massive kitchen, and the living room was three stories high boasting an enormous fireplace whose rough stone chimney reached all the way up to the ceiling.
I have said often enough that the entire edifice that is rock’n’roll is held up by the twin pillars of Little Richard and Chuck Berry. Little Richard for his searing voice and superb band and Chuck for his scattershot lyrics and iconic guitar style. And most importantly, they wrote the songs.
Naturally, I’m saddened by Chuck Berry’s passing. The world turns and heroes are gone.
A hale and hearty December to all. I need to start by thanking those who made the effort to attend a concert or two this year, by DP or any other band – without you it would be a far lonelier place all round. Music is a gift. And live, it’s a celebration.
If you sent me birthday greetings, I was touched by the warm wishes, and I read them all.
Not much to add since my last report except to say that work continues.
Meanwhile, I’ve had a few precious weeks at home before the next round begins.
My family and I went to a dream called Venice for a few days. A taste of Italy is always welcome. Whilst there, I met up with some old friends and did a show with the great Tolo Marton.