As my hero Les McQueen, former rhythm guitarist with Crème Brulée, says: ‘It's a shit business; I'm glad I'm out of it.’
Tonight I’m being whisked back to my Northumberland mansion after our annual sell-out gig on Hadrian’s Wall.
Even if Rick Wakeman remixed our entire oeuvre it could’ve been released as a single.
From the moment we shuffled onto the stage, like a coach-load of tourists emerging blinking into the harsh Mediterranean sun, until we fled in ignominy our act was shambolic.
It is a testament to the power of stardom’s siren’s song, that a man who has suffered acute stage fright in a drum circle agreed to appear before a mass of baying students.
I can really bore you with this thing about eating in BeneLux pop from 64-68. The Eurifans sang about eating mustard, Het Pocomania sang of the benefits of eating parsley with a very straight face indeed, daddy-oh and then there's this track by Ruud Knolraap & The Sweet Vegetable (Knoolraap being a turnip).