Bloody hell this band is tight. Tight like the rivets on a supersonic rocket ship. Tight like the barrel that the old crazy lady went over Niagara Falls in, tumbling through the tumult to emerge shaken but smiling.…

Concert poster courtesy of Steve Crocker. To the best of my admittedly limited knowledge, Miles Davis never ran the voodoo down Fargate, not even in a silent way. John Coltrane never rolled his cool ‘trane…

Sunday morning. The Free Jazz Express, bound for London Saint Pancras, flams and rolls over the points as it leaves Sheffield Midland Station. I’m on board with band-mate Charlie, Charlie’s pal and fellow…

A Thursday night in The Bee Hive pub at the top of West Street. I’m here with band-mate Charlie Collins, Richard Kirk and his girlfriend Lynn Clarke. This is their local, being just a…