Rehearsal notes:

Steve Norman is impressive. He’s a London Grammar school boy, and likes to talk to a man who likes talking, so, as you can imagine, we get on well and easy. But there’s more: he plays fabulous, passionate saxophone and strikes percussion as though his life depended on the very expression of the thing itself. The crash of tambourines, the bang of timbales, the sizzle of the cabassa, all sounds seem to ignite fire in this musician. He plays with fire in his belly, trust me. He may be from north of the river Thames (socially infra dig to a Deptford boy, you know), but he’s all right with me. And he sings too, anything he wants to sing! He goes for it. He believes. I love it. So, rehearsals are good. I am full of respect for these players. They learn some complicated stuff and bring great talent to the room. They all want it to be right on the night. And so it shall be. When you go to war, you want to know you are surrounded by good guys who can get you out of trouble if you should falter. That’s how it is with us: nine musicians, all-singing, all-playing, all-caring all through. Andrew Powell was with us on Saturday, and it brought a special pleasure to the rock band to have our classical bod aboard at last. There is much more to do, even at this relatively late stage, but nobody panics. We’re close to getting it down and right. It’s now almost only a question of what to wear! Boy, have I left all that late! But, hey, how much does it really matter? Steve Norman suggests I should dig out the old Bowler hat. Until that point, over dinner, I really respected him. Now, I’m not sure he is a man of sound mind …..