(mostly) rock 'n' roll stories

009: i'm walking' to new orleans

I've got my suitcase in my hand...

The stiff is froze, the case is closed, on the one that got away...

Believing the strangest things...

In the long hot summer of 1983, the guv'nor's subtle nod to the westway wonders...

The man, the myth, the... um... legend...

A stone croft, lit by candles, candles here, candles there, candles everywhere...

Haven't seen that thing in at least twenty five years, but there it is, now and forever a tiny part of rock 'n' roll history...

He unfolds the menacing-looking weapon, plunges it into the plastic bag, shovels out a mini mountain of dangerous and probably...

Dad grew up a little bit naughty, ran away to sea. A tally man, a right Cockney geezer, bit of an Arthur Daly on the side...