Coffee Culture, Goodramgate, York

Coffee House: Coffee Culture, Goodramgate, York

Drink: Filter Coffee

Cake: You name it (High Tea)

So Rock & Roll - a game of two halves I reckon.

I was born the year Hank Williams died, Lucinda Williams was born and Elvis recorded his first music and grew up hearing the sounds of rock and roll and folk music, soul and blues, tamla, RnB, reggae plus a lot of crap which always permeates, sometimes dominates, the airwaves. For as long as I can remember I'd be either listening to and/or singing a song. One of my earliest memories is my brother asking my mother to tell me to stop singing all of the time. I still sing wherever I am, pretty constantly. If I'm not it usually means I'm out of sorts

Music when I was a teenager was absolutely key to my life, I couldn't image at the time a world without it and it was the main subject of conversation as you'd meet people and always there at parties and houses as you'd carefully choose the songs to play to friends, especially ones you'd be hoping to get into bed at some point

It all pretty much went off the boil as I entered my early twenties and I listened less, coinciding with the prog rock nonsense and total infatuation of the masses with the Beatles later work. Then came 1976 and Punk. I felt too old (23 :-) ) but was totally knocked out with it all. I remember being completely bored and watching TOTP and the Jam came on and played In The City. Blew me away. I was on the phone straight away to a friend saying 'did you see Top of The Pops? Wasn't that band the Jam fantastic!!!' Then I found the Clash and the Pistols, the Buzzcocks, Elvis Costello ,,,,,, the list went on and on. It was unbelievable that these people were making such fantastic music and unbelievably exciting to go and see them at places like Eric's in Mathew St (Liverpool)

In 1968 my brother spent the whole of the summer playing Dylan's John Westley Harding album. I bloody hated it, it was so different from the rest of the music that was around. By the end of the summer I was totally (and still am) in love with it. And Bob. Have been totally besotted with the guy ever since, amassing more of his albums, outtakes, live concerts etc than I can ever really listen to (though I do try) Tim (the brother in question. Not the same one as mentioned earlier by the way) had seen Dylan at the Liverpool Odeon in 1966. He was really into it even though there was the booing as everywhere else on the tour. Dylan started off saying "It's great to be here on Mercy's Side" :-)

I was too young/chicken to go to the Isle of Wight festival in 1969 but made up for it when he came over next in '78 and went to see him twice at Earl's Court and at Blackbushe. Utterly brilliant. That tour started the whole of Dylan fandom. the now thousands of fans who follow the never ending tour, collecting all of the live recording, collecting all of the books and mags about him.

So fast forward thirty years.

We're living in a very different world. Though after saying that maybe it isn't that different. Kids are still kids, parents are parents, there's still lots of music around, still lots of crap music permeating the airwaves/tv channels/web. What is different is that the people who were making music then and those listening to it have all grown up. With a few notable exceptions (e.g. Dylan. Neil Young), the bands from twenty years ago and beyond are essentially now their own tribute band doing pretty good live versions of their albums. And charging a lot of money for the privilege of going to see the fact that they are still alive.

I'd spent the intervening years doing the job/marriage/kids thing. Bit overrated I reckon but helps to pass the time (and pay the bills) when life is on hold. Then a few years back I packed in work, met my gal Ann, moved to a city bursting with music, formed a band and went out and started giving this music malarky a go for myself. I haven't listened to any new music in years but now get to hear it from the people themselves playing in the bars and clubs within walking distance. It's utterly magical to go and see the likes of the Lungs, Boss Caine, Chris Helme, David Ward McLean (I could list a dozen more) pick up a guitar and sing a song they've just written and be blown away by its beauty.

I would have been 8 or 9 years old when Bob Dylan first set foot in New York's Greenwich Village. I've always regretted not being older so I could have witnessed it all then. I'm now very glad that I'm still around to witness the magic here that happens most nights in our fair city.