I’d dropped Barry Andrews an email thanking for his time and mentioning how, implausibly, I had really enjoyed my trip to Swindon. He followed up with a couple of observations. I always enjoy encounters between rock stars and mums. THis is his email:

 

1: 'James et Jim'  stopping for a Japanese (waay exotic back then) w Jim, Esther [Friedmann] and Henry [McGroggan] at Bayswater Hilton, and Jim, implausibly, running into Mr James Brown. who gave him a patronizing handshake ( Mr Brown in a sharp suit Mr Osterberg in a scruffy T shirt) and returned to heavy duty reasonings with his Associates (whom I'm sure you can imagine). Jim excited at being unrecognized by the Godfather - amused by the weirdness of it all - as indeed were we all..

2: My mum and Iggy. Later that day we had to stop at my mum’s  - on an unprepossessing Swindon housing estate - to pick up some of my old keyboards. Jim didn’t get out of the car but was lounging in the back, feet up on the front seat backs. My mum, using that way she has with builders and shopkeepers – a bit outrageous to provoke communication – shouted at him to get his feet down off the upholstery (implication: big rock stars, which she knew he was,  should be a good example.) You know, if memory serves, I think he did as he was told. It was her turf I guess.

 

That's it. Good luck with it all.