Didn't go that often as it was always an epic. We were at college in Grantham and on a Friday afternoon, we'd hitch down. For the 7.30 doors opening - then we'd sit in the tube going round the circle line for a lot of the night and walk around London the next day, spend time hanging round the National Porttrait Gallery or some fleapit cinema for the Saturday early show and then the all nighter. Then the next morning we got the tube out to High Barnet and hitched back. Stinking like a pig and snoring like an elephant, some drivers just kicked you out.... Baldock was the worst place to get kicked out, cos you couldn't get on the A1 there to hitch. You had to walk miles.....

Saw Spider John Koerner, Stefan Grossman, Wizz and Clive, that was the first time I heard Derek Brimstone tell the   - I told you it would take more than two red indians to shag Cheyenne Brodie joke, Davy Graham, Mudge and Clutterbuck, Al Stewart, Ralph of course, did I see Gerry Lockran there?.....and loads of other interesting people.

It was hopelesss trying to explain to grown ups why you were putting yourself through that kind of hassle and shit - just to go to a folk club. but if it were still there, I'd do it again tomorrow.

I think that was why it was so very painful to see folk music become so much a province of the terribly competent and politically correct curators of tradition. My heart still yearns for those wild coffee bar cowboys - who drew my generation in with their bohemian style, wit and above all ....passion for the acoustic guitar.

all the best

Big Al