It’s funny how a single song, a single phrase, can echo through the years, shaping perspectives and sparking unexpected connections. For me, that echo often leads back to Peter Green, a name synonymous with a certain kind of blues guitar mastery that’s both raw and profoundly beautiful. I’ve always had this deep respect for him, like so many guitarists out there. It wasn't just the astonishing playing or that voice; it was the songwriting, the sheer creative spark that gave us gems like 'Man of the World,' 'Green Manalishi,' 'Albatross,' and, of course, 'Oh Well.' And yes, I’ll admit, to my shame, I once recorded my own take on 'Oh Well.' Peter himself, with that characteristic directness, told me back in 1981, over an Indian meal in Putney, 'You can't cover a classic.' And looking back, he was absolutely right. There’s a magic in those original creations that’s hard to replicate.
There was a time, in our younger days, when I even fancied we could have been brothers. We shared a certain dark look, thick wavy hair. His, I learned, came from his Jewish ancestry, mine from a blend of Spanish and Burmese roots. Who knows, maybe there’s a distant Jewish connection way back there too. When we first met, he actually asked if I was Jewish, and I, with a shrug, replied, 'Probably.'
This whole reflection is brought into sharper focus by the recent publication of the definitive biography, 'Albatross Man.' A section of the book caught my eye because it featured a photograph of a two-page letter from 1975, sent to Peter by his friend, the late Duster Bennett. Duster, tragically lost to us while driving back from a gig, mentioned me in the letter, expressing a desire to get in touch. My name was even misspelt, but that’s beside the point. Duster was a good soul, and his passing was a real loss.
Soon after that letter surfaced, I did manage to connect with Peter by phone. It was a fascinating conversation, quite revealing. He seemed genuinely interested that I was a father of two and, surprisingly, we found common ground in our admiration for classical guitar. He adored Segovia, and he had a strong disdain for flashy guitarists, even suggesting they should be 'taken out and shot' if they tried to outshine each other. It was a sentiment I could certainly understand.
And then, the Putney restaurant meeting. I can still picture him sitting opposite me, gazing intently, and sadly remarking that he once had hair like mine. The handsome guitar god of the early days had clearly endured much in the intervening years, battling mental illness. He was, without a doubt, a troubled soul, and it was poignant to witness.
It’s a little-known fact, but a significant reason I signed with the PVK record label in 1980 was because Peter had also signed with them. I thought, perhaps, this was my chance to finally meet him. Looking back, it wasn't the most career-driven decision, but it led to the release of 'The Peacock Party' and, crucially, that meeting with the legendary Peter Green. It’s a memory I truly cherish.
On a more recent note, March 2nd saw me playing an intimate concert in Ross on Wye, preceded by a short guitar workshop. The Gateway Theatre, a 52-seat luxury cinema, proved to be a superb and comfortable setting. My friend Andy from Beyond the Barricade had the foresight to see its potential for artists who appreciate that kind of close connection with their audience, and I was delighted to be the first to feature there. It went wonderfully well, and I hope it becomes a regular spot for artists like Carrie Martin.
And speaking of music, I rarely attend concerts, but my old friend Ric Sanders invited me to see Fairport Convention’s final gig in Dudley Town. With a friend in tow, it was a privilege to witness what is arguably the best in the business doing what they do. Simon Nicol’s voice was in fine form, and the band delivered their classics with aplomb, including 'Crazy Man Michael' and Ralph McTell's 'The Hiring Fair.' It was also fantastic to see Dave Mattacks back on drums. Dave Pegg, Peggy, remains one of the finest bass players around. Many will know of my long musical history with Ric, our gigs in the late seventies and mid-eighties, and our 'One to One' album. Ric, alongside Chris Lesley, forms what I believe is a truly exceptional lineup, even outside of the classic era with Dave Swarbrick, Richard Thompson, and the late Sandy Denny. It was a beautiful way to cap off their winter tour.
Finally, a pleasant morning was spent on the 19th of last month rehearsing with another dear friend, Nick Hooper, for an upcoming house concert later this month. It had been years...
