I knew a man in London in the sixties called Cecil McCartney from Northern Ireland who was an artist and had secured (by holy intervention one assumes because he was an awful singer) a record deal. His first and as far as I know only album was rehearsed in our house as the main guitar player Andy Dixon was living there at the time. (Dixon was a phenomenal guitarist but damaged the tendons in his wrist so took up playing violin instead and went deep into traditional music. There was already a Northern Irish connection as I think he had attended Queens University in Belfast. He was English but went back to Belfast at some point and stayed there as a stalwart on the traditional scene up till his death some years ago. Last time I saw him was at 3 in the morning asleep in the street cuddling his violin case at a fla (Listowel I think). Aside over. Point being that one of the songs McCartney was rehearsing was some godawful song called ‘Plastic Jesus.’ Coincidentally I have a dim memory of seeing the sheet music to Plastic Jesus, maybe in Sing Out when I was browsing a collection of that ancient magazine in the Eighties. Embedded in the realms of the coffin dodgers now many years on the image of the music seems strong. The McCartney album has become some kind of obscure psychedelic landmark of the late sixties. Apparently. I don’t know anything about his art but his music was not to my taste, shall we say, and not speak too ill of the dead. I thought he was a nutter with a strong fantasy life but the world is a wide place… apologies for length… a dive into his life will reveal more drollery for those who have the time… but I always assumed ‘Plastic Jesus’ was some sixties parody of an older song…