When I was younger I played in a punk-folk band. After a couple of years I left rock and roll to go to university and inadvertently became the John Major of rock and roll (he famously ran away from the circus to become an accountant). If truth be told I never really felt like I had any real natural musical ability and struggled to keep up with the others. One thing that playing in a band does is gives you the opportunity to meet people far more interesting than yourself, and gives you the opportunity to talk about it loudly in the pub 10 years later.
One such meeting was with the Bhundu Boys, we did a short UK tour supporting them just before they broke through. I have very fond memories of chatting with them backstage, they were the most unassuming bunch of guys you would ever wish to meet. It is quite upsetting to realise that within a few short years two of them would be dead from HIV related illnesses and Biggie, the singer, would commit suicide in 1995.
I still remember watching them from the side of the stage night after night, they were one of the best live acts I had ever seen and listening to this album tonight brings back some very happy memories, but also some sad ones.