I suppose it could be said this is my favourite band. Maybe. I can never make my mind up about things like that.
They were a great night out, in the days when big names still played on small stages in university dining halls. Back there in the early seventies, (the old feller muttered, grasping his walking-stick,), going to see a band meant, well, seeing them. Not being half a mile back in a sea of heads, watching the action on a sixty-foot high tv screen. And I saw Family quite a few times. On one occasion, Roger Chapman, the lead singer, passed me a bottle of his beer. well, yes, the bar was open, but he'd just chucked a tambourine into the sky in a fit of wild exuberance. Unfortunately, it smashed the glass globe of a light above me. My injuries were minor, but bled well, and I spilled my pint... It was a masterly stroke for Chappo to stop singing, peer in my direction through the bright lights, say "Are you alright? Sorry..." and then proffer a bottle of Sam Smith's Nut-Brown Ale.
Good man. Ta for that.
