London of the sixties
You can’t help but visit London today and recall the 1960s: a bright and light musical kaleidoscope.
While I embrace London’s extraordinary changes–terrific food, good coffee, French pastries and an international human glow–the music scene of old permeates Soho.
We took in a performance of Sunny Afternoon, a tribute to the Kinks’ music replete with fraternal in-fighting and managerial wallet gouging.
We overlooked the thin plot-line in favor of the spirited music of Lola, Well-Respected Man, Waterloo Sunset, and, of course, Sunny Afternoon.
At the end of the musical play, actors skipped through the aisles urging the audience to clap, sing and dance.
I’d nearly forgotten the impact of the music of those formative years, ranging from Donovan to Jethro Tull.
My school mates worshipped Eric Clapton and Marianne Faithfull and longed for a Fender Stratocaster.
We’d watch Top of the Pops on the telie with religious fervor, and score student prices for the shows at Albert Hall: Jimi Hendrix, Cream, Simon and Garfunkel and Al Stewart.
Perhaps we unknowingly put away our childish things: if music was our heart, then our soul belonged to Soho.
Good to enfold its beat one more time.