Marc Bolan
The Vox Box Interview 1972 By Michael Wale
* A huge thanks to George Brown
for supplying the interview and
to Desdemona for transcribing and bringing it to Till Dawn
One singer began to change the
trend in the winter of 1971--Marc Bolan of T.Rex, an elfin-faced young
man with an individual hair style that became part of his trademark.By
Mid-winter "jackie" magazine, which sells over 600,000 copies a week,
reported that they were receiving 800 letters a week about Bolan as
well as having to deny ugly rumours that the star was dying of a rare
blood disease, an occurrence unknown in the fan-mag world of pop since
rumours of Paul McCartney's death after the Abbey Road album. On tour
Bolan had to fight his way from the dressing-room door to his waiting
white Rolls-Royce, 3 or 4 hundred young people a night were trying
to grab chunks of him. This had not happened since the height of the
Beatles. Girls also kept a vigil outside his home in London's Little
Venice. When I arrived there he was being interviewed by a pleasant
long-blonde-haired, cockney-accented girl from Mirabelle, another fan
magazine. As the interview was ending, Bolan handed the girl a silver
ring as T.Rex had originally been
Tyrannosaurus Rex, a group that in the late sixties was in the foreground
of the progressive underground music and was especially boosted by
the progressive-music disc jockey, John Peel. The thought that Tyrannosaurus
Rex could ever appear in the top-ten charts, let alone have a number
one, would have brought about an instant attack of apoplexy to their
fans at the time. By now, of course, as T.Rex they have appeared regularly
in these same charts with hits like Ride a White Swan, Hot Love, Get
it on, and Jeepster. As for Bolan, he has been around a remarkably
long time for someone earning his money for appearing. He first came
to the notice of the public in a glossy fashionable magazine of the
time, About Town, and it was one of the first publications of the now
famous photographer Don McCullin. McCullin had made his name by photographing
his brother's gang in an East End bomb site. Now he's published a picture
of the thirteen-year-old Bolan.
Why were you chosen?
Well, I was at the forefront of that movement. I was still at school
and used to steal scooters which was one of my great hobbies.I got
busted once, that was very naughty, used to chrome the bubbles. What
turned me on about that period of time was the total involvement materially
with what was going on, because it was a complete involvement with
perhaps seven people that one respected and really being important
to be the leader of that materially. It was very material, down to
clothes, totally. The only places I used to get clothes from was Vince's
and Domino Male and these sort of places in Carnaby Street. John Stephens
wasn't there and they were basically very camp shops. I didn't understand
that most of the people were gay. I used to go in there because I dug
the clothes. There were no mods as such, just people. I used to have
my shoes made.We had four or five people that supplied what you wanted
and occasionally one would get other clothes like Levi's. Levi's 7 or 8
years ago in England were unheard of, they were what the Americans
brought over for their service camps and there was a place in Leman
Street, Whitechapel, which used to have them. I remember going there,
I didn't have a penny, and I went there and there were about 40 people
that all looked lik Dickensian urchins, really like Bisto kids, we
all looked so scraggy. All the clothes were Army surplus and this was
a sort of surplus store and we just pulled up there on literally 40
scooters. And there was a big pile of Levi's and we just stole the
lot. They were there, one wanted them and one took them. My scooter
had zipped off without me and I stuck the Levi's up my jumper and I
ran down the road and got a bus. My heart was pounding away. It was
great knowing we were only one of a few people in England who had them.
That was very funky. Then when this photo
and article came out I just couldn't relate to it, it was very uncool
for me, because it was like 6 months ago, and I was very into the time
factor and I'd moved away and I was very bored with that, so when the
article came out I didn't like the feel of it and I went to live in
France. I was in Paris for about 6 months. A friend of mine had a big
house which had about 40 rooms.He was a magician actually, very powerful
man, very learned man. I learnt a lot of very important things off
him, just sort of mythology, good things. I read alot of books. He
had amazing books there, books by Allistair Crowley and handwritten
books and things like that. Then I came back home again. I used to
work at a clothes shop called Edgar's in Tooting Broadway and wash
up in the Wimpy bar at night. I had two hours sleep at night and I
did that for a week and had a mental breakdown--one of those Scott
Walker numbers, at sixteen.
But I was really wasted,
but I did it just to prove I wanted to work, but I didn't want to have
my head confused with a job I didn't really want to do. I didn't know
what I wanted to do,I had no direction at all, just that I knew something
was going to be happening. I used to go and see alot of rock shows
at the Tooting Granada. I saw the Beatles there, the Stones,the Ronettes,
Marty Wilde. Then I went to see Joe Meek and did the 'I want to be
a star,Joe' bit. He had his bedroom
with the budgerigar where he made all the Tornadoes' stuff and for
6 months he said 'Sure,kid,record you next week'. And he never did.I'd
never sung in fact but I assumed that I ought to be a rock-n-roll star
or something. Then I did some acting. I shared a flat with a guy who
was involved with the National Theatre, so I got to see alot of the
plays there and I saw Royal Hunt of the Sun, Peter Brook's thing, all
those things. It was amazing and I went up to Robert Stephens who played
Atavulpa--which I used on the first album, Frown of Atavulpa--and I
went up to him and he was all blacked up and I thought he was a black
person. And he put his foot up and it was white underneath,and it slayed
him. I did some walk-ons for a children's TV programme called Orlando.
I did quite a bit of kids' TV, 10 quid touch stuff. I did lots of male
modeling and I once made a grand in a week which impressed my parents
no end. I didn't work for a year after that.It was so easy, all I had
to do was Then through a friend
I got introduced to a guy called Jim Iconomedes, who used to record
the Beach Boys. He had just come over here to England. He was with
Decca and I did a recording test. I don't know if they still do that,
I should think they still do. This was '64, late '64, because I did
The Wizard,which was the first record, in '65,so it must have been
'64. And I did a thing, and the song that I sung to him was You're
no Good which in fact was a Betty Everitt record which was out in America
for 7 months before. I think the Swinging Blue Jeans covered it and
I got it the week it was released in America because I had a friend
over there who sent me the stuff over. And I really dug the song.
And what were you called then?
The first
record I put out was under Marc Bolan, but it was spelt M-A-R-K B-O-W-L-A-N-D
and it was totally a Decca fabication. I thought, 'Who's that?' you
know.I didn't know it was my record because they'd stuck this name
down! So I did the test and they said, "Kid, with your face we'll make
you a star".
Who said that?
A couple of
people. Dick Rowe was there, Jim Iconomedes-Jim was a good man. It's
a weird thing. I did The Wizard, we did that in an hour, and Mike Leander
who was around at the time, he did the orchestration for it and I did
it at 9:00 in the morning, right, the record, and I just did my bit,and
a couple of the Ladybirds, or the Vernon girls or someone did the backing.They
talked about corsets and stuff, you know, between takes, knitting and
things. My first big recording session that was, chicks knitting! And
I did that and they released it. And that was under Mark Bowland, right?
There were 2 little dots on it for something, they were meant to be
for something or other, I don't know, and it came out. I got a lot
of attention,we did Ready,Steady,Go--it was live then, Ready,Steady,Go,
whatever it was called. Vicki Wickham was dynamite,she put me on there,
but meanwhile the band played in the wrong key and missed the intro
out, it was a terrible disaster the whole thing. And the record wasn't
a hit. Then I spent
a year trying to get away from Decca. They wouldn't record me, to be
quite honest! They wanted to do a number. It was one of those "You've
got to be commercial, kid" numbers, which I couldn't really foresee.
I didn't understand what they were talking about. At this point Dylan
had just happened and The Byrds were big and those sort of things,
and that was obviously the avenue that I should be taking. The music
was totally geared for that but they weren't prepared to even get involved,
so eventually I got away from them. An interesting
thing is that at that point I was playing with Cat Stevens,because
he was signed to Jim too, you see, via another circuit. Mike Hurst
was producing him, just before I Love My Dog, and we used to play alot
together and we had nowhere to play. It was amazing now when you think
of it, you got Marc Bolan and Cat Stevens dying to do concerts for
like 2 quid, really, like we were begging to play anywhere, and all
we got offered were folk clubs. Then Cat got involved with the Deram
thing, which fortunately he's come out of in good shape luckily, and
I got away, I left that.I boogied around for about a year doing nothing,
just sort of writing alot. I wrote alot of material then. And then I met a guy
called Simon Napier-Bell, and Simon had the Yardbirds then, Jimmy Page
had just joined them and everything. He produced a record called Hippy
Gumbo which we did. Which, in fact, was very interesting, because we
used a string quartet on it, it was an interesting record. I did Ready,Steady,Go again on that
with Jimi Hendrix,it was Jimi's first shot at anything and he did the
Hey Joe thing which was dynamite to watch, actually.
What happened to your record?
It was a demo
that I did that we put strings on. It was a good record but it never
got played, it only got one play, actually, on the radio. We did that
and then Kit Lambert had just formed Track Records and Simon had a
deal with EMI or somebody, which was a one-record deal, and John's
Children, that was a band that he had, had a record out in America,
which was very big on the West Coast called Smashed Blocked or something.
It was Simon's band, I don't even know who was in the band at that
point. But some of the people left and they wanted a sort of Pete Townshend
type figure, a writer/guitarist/creator sort of thing, and I was around
so they thought I'd fit the bill and they put me in. We did Desdemona,
we did one session actually and we did Desdemona which was a hit in
about 7 countries, but it wasn't a hit here though, because no one
would play it, it was banned again. It got played on the pirates which
were going down, but the BBC wouldn't play it, said it was rude, which
it probably was. It was the first time
that anyone had spent any money on me.I mean Track spent alot of money
because they had Pictures of Lily, that I think the Who put out after
Desdemona, and they had Purple Haze,so it was like a good flash for
them. Like there were ads for the first time, real ads, whole-page
ads, which an artist has to have, you've got to, you can't just stick
a record out, you know, and there was promotion done, very well done,actually,but
I backed off because I could feel that I wasn't going to get the freedom
that I wanted personally. So I left about that point, and they made
some other records afterwards which were backing tracks that I'd played
and they wrote different words to and put my name on, stuff like Go-Go
Girl, which was one of my songs, Mustang Ford. I went to Joe Boyd who
was doing the Incredible String Band then and some other people. I
wanted him to produce us, and we did some tracks which were all right
actually, they were pretty good, but they weren't quite right.
You were then called....?
Tyrannosaurus Rex.Just
after I left I met Steve Took via friends and he was a drummer, but
we didn't have any money, so he sold his drums and we just did pop
concerts and stuff.John Peel had been playing some of my earlier stuff
on the Perfumed Garden, Radio London. And that had gone out and it
had got alot of response, alot of mailbag about it, and then Radio
London ended. They came back here and I met John and he was sot of
on the street really as I was, and Middle Earth, which was a club at
the time, had just opened up, it was really the first underground thing.We
used to play there for nothing, without any amplification, just on
the stage, until after a while we used to fill it, about 3000 people,
you know. We were getting about a fiver, so it was a bit cheeky. It
was just me and Steve, at that point, and what happened slowly, the
word got about that something was going down, you know, and people
saw it. We had about 5 record company offers and things. It was Apple
and some other people.
Were you on the drug scene at that time?
Me? No, I've never really been into drugs that much.I never got into
smoking. I took acid but I never got into smoking. I took acid a couple
of times, you know. I didn't find it relevant. I couldn't use it.
I just asked because that period was very much a drug period?
Yeah, right, it
was very much. I never felt the need for any sort of psychedelic drugs
or hash really, on that level I'm sort of very naturally spaced in
that way. The way I live my life I've got to have a very open head.
I don't have any problems with my head really on that level. Deborah
did something which we weren't ready for. I was very pleased about
it but I didn't really know how to cope with it, and the album came
out and got to number 2, I think,in the album charts. I was very pleased,
but it was a shock because people didn't sell albums in those days,
you know. No one apart from John Peel really played the music, it was
like what's happening? So that was a big album and we were being offered
lots of money. Deborah came out first as a single. I had a feeling
about it and then the album came out and we were doing concerts then
and we did the Albert Hall, I think, because we did few concert halls.
It's very strange because we had I think about 3 or 4 albums, big albums,
but what struck me
I didn't really know you at that time yet, I knew your image and it
was totally different to what you were.
Sure. They
always are. I never got all that. Being me, I never saw it. It's very
hard to get outside it, even now. I think we've sold 7 million records
this year and I sit here on my own, playing a guitar. I'm playing about.
I'm just not aware of anything. The only times I've really been shook
lately is like at the weekends there's probably three or four hundred
chicks outside, you know.Well, I don't know where they got the address
from, but they appear, you know, and suddenly I look out the window
and they all sort of scream and I think well, it sounds very naive.
I mean, sometimes I'm really not aware of it at all. When you go to
a concert one is geared to do the concert, it's very different. But
it's odd to encounter that out of the environment.
Does it not affect you at all that you get all this sort of praise
which, of course, every man wants in his life?
It's hard to know.
I'm basically a musician and I accept that I'm a rock-n-roll star,
whatever, that's the outward thing, that's how it looks from the inside.
I'm basically a record produce really. I'm into that. I write songs
and I'd like to produce them. To be quite honest, in the past in the
early days of the band we were never played on the radio very much,
which is probably my fault for not perhaps making the sort of music
they play on the radio, but I didn't want to at that point. I wasn't
upset by it, but that's probably why we were very much a cult thing.
I read a really weird thing that's in one of those papers when they're
writing about something and it said,"Marc Bolan now is a teenage rock-n-roll
star" and all this stuff. "and he drives about in his white Rolls-Royce,
but meanwhile, what about the days when they lived in poverty as Tyrannosaurus
Rex?" We used to get a grand
a night, man! You know, this is what's stupid about that thing, is
in fact I earned more money then than I do now! Honestly, because the
expenses of running the thing, and with roadies and gear--we had no
gear, we used to carry it out in a little van. That's what's silly
about that, I mean, it's like the whole conception is wrong, you know.
I'm probably more ethnic now than I ever was, much more, because I'm
much more involved with the art of producing, hopefully for me, what
gives me good funky energy rock music. I was not aware of really playing
for humanity as I am now. I'm very aware of the people that I'm playing
for now. At that point I wasn't really sure who I was playing for.
Why did the change come between Tyrannosaurus Rex and T.Rex?
It came because I'd done 4 albums and we were boogying along, we were
very comfortable, things looked really nice, but they were comfortable,
you know? And I don't like to be too comfortable. I was very unhappy
with the way that we were really being ignored by the media of all
sorts and the papers and the radio and that.It was upsetting me, it
was something new. I'd hear something like a new Dylan record or a
new Beatle record or a Who record and I'd know that I was as funky
as them, you know, it was not an ego number, I mean, Pete Townshend
was the first dude to come up to see me and say that Desdemona was
amazing. We did a tour with them in Germany, he blew his mind, you
know. And I knew I was on that sort of level of being an artist I felt
should be reaching people. I had a cottage in Wales at that point.
I'd rather stay at home and record on my Revox and send them out as
albums, you know. And I felt that I was doing it and not really reaching
the people. I'd got to a metal wall and the album
You were making money?
That wasn't the
reason I did it. Money buys freedom. I don't deny money, but the excitement
is what I do it for, honestly, like fulfillment. I'd do what I'm doing
now if I worked on a lathe producing nuts, and bolts, and in the evening
I'd probably play in a club somewhere, you know, or in the street.
I mean, I started in the street.
When did you drop the Tyrannosaurus Rex?
What happened
was I decided that I was either going to be a writer literally and
get into novels and science fiction and screenplays, which I had offers
for, but it meant like giving 6 or 7 months up really, which I wasn't
prepared to do, or getting involved speeding up the whole process of
the recording I've done. So what I did really
was a gamble. 'Either we've got to get a hit record, or I'm going to
be a writer'. End of story. Like I was just going to back off, because
I was beginning to be bored with what I was doing, the way I was doing
it. That was, I suppose, just before 1970, just before White Swan,
just a little before. And I'd written White Swan and we cut it and
it sounded like a hit, you know, I felt it was going to be a hit. So
I thought, "Well, fuck it. I'm going to put it out and if it's not
a hit there ain't no way that I'm ever going to get a hit record, just
no way". It was a 2 minute second, funky, snappy, foot-tapper, you
know, it was all your shit, and also lyrically I was pleased with it.
And I wanted to get on there and make some changes in a way that wouldn't
hurt anyone. The business as such was at a very low ebb at that point,
there was nothing really going down. And we put it out. I was well
prepared for it to bomb, I expected to get alot of aggravation from
people saying like, "
And you are calling yourself T.Rex?
What
happened was we had, I had, a lease-tape
master deal with Strato Productions, which is Denny Cordell's thing
and David Player's, and their deal with Regal Zonophone ran out. They
formed Fly records which was their label, so we had a new label to
come on, and again, with a bit of push, David had spent some money
on a new sound as such, a new statement anyway, a new urgency to the
situation, so I thought, 'Well, everybody calls us T.Rex, you might
as well shorten the name, see if it helps.' I was going to do my shot,
if it works, fine, if it doesn't...So that was really why I did that
and why White Swan happened.
And then I was in
the strange position of deciding whether or not to become a standard
rock band. There was only the two of us,it was all overdubbed, so then
I got in Steve Currie to play bass, and after that we did Hot Love
and that was a number one. And then I realized I had to get a drummer,
but I didn't want Micky to play drums because I wanted to use the congas
and hand drums that he could play, so what I did was get in Will Legend,
he's a drummer. I got him in and suddenly we were a rock band! It was
very weird. It had to happen, because if we were going to play and
do concerts and be like what I heard in my head, it had to happen.
And I'm still doing it now, I'm still exploring what's in my head,
you know.
Then you brought in Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman as backing singers?
That was for the
records. What happened was I met
them in America the first time I went there and then they came over
with Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention, about the time of Hot
Love it was. And I just got the backing track, I was about to mix it
and Howard rang me up, and I said I was mixing the record and I said
would they sing on it, just back out the thing, and they came down
and we did it and it was amazing. And they blew my mind, and I mixed
it. And then we went to America for about the first real tour in May
1971 and I recorded half the Electric Warrior album in Los Angeles
and they were there and I used them on that. I could have done the
same thing by overdubbing myself or using other people but I believe
they're probably the best singers in the world. I mean for rock back-up
musicians, they have so much knowledge about that.
And there you were suddenly a rock star, and how did the incredible fan
thing appear to you to be happening?
About 6 months ago, really,
just after Hot Love, it began to come together because people were
getting used to seeing us and getting attracted, or whatever, to the
sound. This last tour has been the one, because this has been so dangerous
at many points, which is very odd. The sweetest thing of all is we
didn't try to hype anyone of the Press about anything and slowly people
were saying like, "what's going on?", you know, and four or five of
the papers came to some of the gigs and they couldn't believe it, because
you knew they were going to say, 'Wow! Beatlemania!', or whatever,
that sort of stuff. But we didn't want to say that, because I don't
feel it is that, I think it's a whole new thing, very different sort
of thing, more involved, more personal, more involved with music but
also with personalities--like you see all the chicks have got Marc
Bolan T-shirts, or Marc Bolan hair and so on, very freaky to see. I
mean, hairdressing shops, they do a Marc Bolan hairstyle. It's weird!
It's very flattering.
But you said, 'I'm going to make a hit or else'?
Yes, but there are hits and hits, you know, I
mean a hit to me was top 20. We haven't put a single out that's sold
less than half a million in England alone. Jeepster--which is not even
the official single, we didn't release that, Fly records put that out--it's
not the follow-up to Get It On at all, because that's something else
that is coming out. I didn't want that released even, in fact, that's
done 350,000 already in 9 days. And I can't relate to that, I don't,
you know, because a normal hit record in England does 100,000 to 150,000
a biggy, you know, and it's like we've doubled the sales of people,
treble almost, which to be in a group that 2 years ago was told would
never sell a record by alot of people...'Well, you've got a funny voice,
Marc', and 'I'm sorry kid'. And that's what's been freaky, it's gone
so much more than I anticipated and that's amazing, you know, like
I didn't expect to be this big, honestly.
There's been a backlash now you're no longer progressive and I gather
John Peel won't play you now?
John played all the last
album, he played seven tracks from that, but I know what you mean,
you're going to get people that do that, but I think that many of the
people that have said that I've sold out, many of those letters have
been so ill-informed. 'Why did Marc go electric?'. Three quarters of
Beard of Stars is electric, so obviously the person that wrote that
(which is the album before the T.Rex one) never listened to Beard of
Stars anyway. Because there's alot of electric stuff, very heavy, in
fact probably heavier than the album which followed, the T.Rex album.
Many of the people that come to the concerts have been with us for
a long time, obviously it's probably seventy-five per cent chicks now,
and they throw knickers on the stage and all that stuff but one can
appreciate that, that's cool. All I know is I do half an hour of acoustic
numbers, right, and it's dead quiet, totally quiet, they sit there
listening to the music, you know, they're listening, they'll be quiet
for half an hour.
You live in this flat now. Do you see yourself buying large houses
which everybody always does?
Not really.
I mean, it depends what you want. I have to find 500 pounds a week
to pay people before we even do anything,you know, it's been going
on along time. I mean I don't make money. I'm not a skint, you know,
but it's all taxed. I've got a Rolls-Royce, but I don't have a big
house.I didn't buy my Mum a house. If things continue the way they
are now perhaps in five years' time I might be a wealthy young elf,
but I don't know. It depends. I spend more than I earn anyway, on records
mainly, clothes, guitars, stuff, people.
What guitars do you have?
Lots, I've got about ten. Five Gibsons, a Stratocaster,
a Flying Arrow, 4 gold Gibson Les Pauls. But I love them, I mean, it's
not like 'I buy guitars, kid' you know, each has an individual sound.
I mean that one there, which is an amazing sound, costs 35 pounds.
It's a cheap Japanese guitar, which is a copy of a Gibson guitar which
sounds just like a Gibson guitar, so I bought that. A Gibson costs
300 pounds. I'm not into status stuff. I bought the Rolls. It's an
old one, we didn't pay very much for it. It's 1960, a white one, and
I bought that because I like the shape. I can't drive anyway, mind
you. My wife June drives me about, or one of the roadies. I never learnt.
I should've learnt. It's silly.
How do you feel now about being a popular hero?
I'm very flattered,
honestly, very flattered. What gets me most of all is that one is,
you know, T.Rex or a band, for instance the Who, Jimi Hendrix, the
Beatles, whoever. You can do a single record a 3-minute plastic record,
and it can be a banal piece of hummable commercial music and it can
sell a million records and 2 weeks later be totally forgotten. Or you
can make records which will sell as many records but people will remember,
and I like to think--I might be totally wrong, totally--but I like
to think that when a T.Rex record comes on people feel involved with
it and get sort of an energy burst off it, you know, and think about
it a little more. I mean, if you listen to the words of Jeepster actually,
there's some funky lines in that, and as opposed to 'I love you baby,
the way you wear your hair', you know, 'the moon is green and I don't
care', and that sort of stuff, which could in fact go to a very strong
melody and still be a hit record, very easily, like Mammy Blue or whatever.
Do
you write the lyrics or the music first? Normally at the same time. I'm
trying to think of that Jeepster line...'You slide so good/with bones
so fair/you've got the universe/reclining in your hair!' I like the
idea of seeing the whole planet, because the head is very round. 'Your
motivation/is so sweet/your vibrations/are burning up my feet'. I like
that. What's the other one? It's a sort of Gene Vincent one in here:
'the wild winds blow/upon your frozen cheeks/the way you flip your
hip/it always makes me weak.'
If you go out would people recognize you?
Yeah, they do, but I mean they only do because
I'm--which is probably why the whole thing is so successful--I look
like, well basically, I mean, basically, roughly, with your eyes shut,
I look a bit like what I look like on television. I look basically
like what I'm supposed to look like. But what I did was we never manufactured
an image in any way, all I did was took pictures of what I felt like,
what I was, you know, in which case you can't...you are what you are,
you know, so that it becomes much more credible. Certainly I can walk
down the street and people will whisper and they point you out and
stuff, but if I pin my hair up or put a hat on, they wouldn't recognize
me at all.
Your hair, now, you say girls can get a "Marc Bolan". Who does your
hair now?
I never comb
it. I don't do anything with my hair at all. I haven't combed it for
3 months. I just wash it. I cut it myself with scissors. I haven't
cut it for a long time. It's very scraggly. I just cut bits off, you
know, but I never comb it which is why it goes so curly.
How long have you been married?
Two years.
And how did you meet your wife?
The first
management company of Tyrannosaurus Rex, that underground group, cult
here--she was managing the Floyd at that time, that's Blackhill, when
we were there, and we were with them for a period for the Deborah record,
that first album, and when I left I just took her with me. It fucked
their office up a bit.
Why
did you get married? In these permissive days it's a bit old-fashioned
isn't it? It felt like something interesting to do one day,
to be quite honest, really. We didn't tell our parents or anything.
We'd lived together for 2 years, so there was no problem. Just like
it felt like an event, you know, a reason to have a champagne lunch,
really, I mean we married. I'm not a 'married man'. I'm still waiting
to get hair on me chest, you know, let alone be married. But we're
two human beings who like being together. We've had times, of course,
when we haven't wanted to be together and we haven't been, and we've
probably been with other people, no doubt, you know, but June's the
funniest chick I ever met and while she fills that role I shall be
a happy married, family man with slippers and a dog and a pipe.