June 1967 and green in the gills I was sent to Denmark Street to the offices of one Keith Goodwin, former NME news editor and then, Les Perrin apart, the busiest independent PR in the business. The number of times I trooped up those stairs, usually on a Wednesday afternoon for an early feature interview for the next issue…well, there were a lot. Oh, and a classic Keith Goodwin story. He’d blagged a lift off me (I think, or if not I was in the car) to come with me to a club in Luton or Dunstable to see some act or other he was representing. Coming back down the M1 at some speed, he suddenly said to the driver “pull in here”. We stopped on the hard shoulder; he said “I live up there”, got out of the car, scrambled up the bank and was never…no, of course he was seen again, many times!
Anyway, I approached these new No.1 hitmakers with some trepidation. The word was that they not only took their music seriously, but had a silent member, who didn’t play but did write the lyrics. I see I had to call him the artistic director!! I survived my 30 minutes with them, and their song is as fresh today as it was 50 years ago.