Angie gave young British pickers something to aspire to. I watched them practice it, ace it, play it for each other. On this side of the Atlantic, the lads were mastering Wildwood Flower, Freight Train, and San Francisco Bay Blues. Davy Graham was an innovator, a role model, a strong and unusual finger-sylist in a sea of plectrums - or so it seemed to me, a young visitor from Canada. And in those heady revival days, people who had been masters af the art many years earlier were tracked down in their waiter jobs and their cabbie jobs and their pullman-porter jobs, and helped back on to the stage, where they were revered for what they had been and adored for the echoes of that, however faint. Imho, Davy Graham is a legendary figure and should be respected for what he was, and treated kindly now even if he is only able to produce echoes of what he once did. Of course, the internet has changed how we look at things, given us the power of the blog, and that's generally a very good thing, but I do sometimes miss the days when gossip was usually only whispered in dark corners of secret back rooms. I think maybe the spread of malice was more limited then.