When I was a young and budding guitarist in the 1960s I fell under the spell of Davey Graham's guitar playing. I lived, ate and drank it. I practised the pieces on each album as they all came out, one after another. My favourite, in spite of the brilliance of "Folk, Blues and Beyond", was his Pye Golden Guinea album, "The Guitar Player" which - to me and many like me - was a seminal album of guitar music.

All that, as I say, was when I was in my early 20s and had just got to grips with the guitar. I then started to hitch-hike down to London, just to see DG at the Cousins - mainly all-nighters - and got the chance to talk to him and play with him on several occasions. He was a charming, courteous and fascinating man, and infinitely patient with a pestering young guitarist!

Fast forward to 1968 and the Cousins. A packed audience was staggered to see Davey, goggle-eyed and slurring, stagger on to a high stool - and fall off it on to the piano (which was at the back of the stage in those days). We all sadly left and got our money back. I remember seeing John Renbourn at the door, peering in with a grim smile on his face at the proceedings. It was heartbreaking.

I never saw him live again - just to keep the memory of his early stuff preserved. And, of course, as I got older and wiser and less tunnel-visioned, other musical influences kicked in. I grew up and, though I rarely play his albums now, his spirit and vision live on.

With the benefit of 50 years hindsight, I would say that, in the end, it's better to ignore his self-inflicted (yes, self-inflicted) drug problems and sad latter years - and remember a man who was absolutely unique in his day and the creator of a style of playing that influenced a generation of aspiring guitarists.