Monday, 16 February 2026

Monday Long Song

On reflection, I'm pretty sure that my school chum James must've had an older brother or sister, though by this point, a lifetime later, it's difficult to be absolutely certain about such details. What convinces me, all these years down the line, is that so many of the 'serious' rock records that I was only dimly becoming aware of via the weekly music press, already seemed to be sitting on the shelf in his house before I'd even started to save up my pocket money. I can only guess that James had an older sibling, with a job presumably, who brought the records home, steadily introducing him, and by extension me, to a whole new musical world. 

James and I were in the right place at the right time for Glam - T.Rex, Bowie, Sweet & Slade etc providing the soundtrack to our day-to-day school lives, but whenever I took the 10 minute bus ride over to his gaff, he'd throw me by slinging something like Pink Floyd's 'Meddle' or Genesis' 'Nursery Cryme' onto the turntable - quite the eye-opener for this 12 year old. Another LP I first heard over at James' place was that literal definition of prog, 'Close to the Edge' by Yes. I don't mind admitting that the band's frequent tempo variations, baffling lyrical content and seemingly random key changes initially proved too much for my young brain and instead I gravitated towards the altogether more accessible prog (if there be such a thing) of Emerson Lake & Palmer. I got there in the end though. 

James and I corresponded for a year or two after I moved out of London in 1975 and in our last letters I remember him being steadfastly unconvinced by the burgeoning punk scene. Half a century later, online searches throw up no leads on the whereabouts of my old pal, but I hope he's still out there somewhere, happy and healthy, listening to this old favourite.

Close to the Edge

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