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All was fine. People lived outside the system and experienced the experiences they needed. Like many I bounced and floated my way along from the 24 hour Technicolour Dream banana smoke to the stadium stick figures, Close To The Edge in the distance. In between, there were squats and South London group rehearsals, friends who didn't make it, mods to flower power, to on down to oblivion. Meanwhile bank clerks got long hair and Wayfarer's managers bought them a Melotron and after that group crumpled, Chris Reeves travelled up and down the A roads of Great Britain in a Transit van, rythmn guitar and harmony for Rock Candy. More squats, five skins instead of three, then into finessing the songwriting. All was fine-------untill, the revenge of the critical parent. The envy of the "I've got to go to work, so, so can you" monster from the swamp--------The Thatchet. (It was a similar ludicrous creature to your Raygun for you in America) It came crashing and cleaving, it's soul purpose---to hurt. And hurt it would, anything with pretentions to beauty, taste, or any otherv lascivious nonsense. It was gonna hack up the hippy drippy tree and chuck it in a cold bath. The Thatchet hacked and slashed, at every branch, it knew that those vermin who don't get up in the morning were in there somewhere. Eventualy the tree lay dying, the garden never to be the same again. Now... as of course is known with all mad dogs, they become somewhat of an enbarassment. The camp guard who went too far. All this is now known of course. In a palace coup a new sleeker user friendly bully was found-------Tone............and so on ad infinitum. Meanwhile, I Chris Reeves wrote, recorded and wrote, recorded and wrote, tried to survive. Some I knew adapted well to the ash and rotting meat of the 1980's. Prospered, even got turned on by the challenges they saw of the white line pin-stripe tripe. Sold hamburgers to folks who sold hamburgers. Meanwhile I Chris Reeves wrote and recorded, wrote and recorded. And in the end after the wounds had healed enough to walk, took the acoustic six string and the acoustic twelve string, closed the front door behind me and I went went out and sung it like I see it, of lifes lived, loves loved and lies told.