Back Stage

Mayall was stuffed after the concert and he looked 58. He sat in a room with plates of colourful food, wiping the sweat off, and yarning to the promoter. In the next room, the band were yarning too.

James Quill-Smith was voluble and debauched afterwards. The crowd cried for a guitar hero, and he loved it. He delightedly mentioned the time he used nasal spray for a cold ... "I picked up a Dristan bottle, squirted, and Kapow!" he said, demonstrating the exploding membrane. The spray was industrial lens cleaner - pure alcohol - left by a photographer.

He sadly told me about his mentor, Mike Bloomfield, who had died that week, racked with heroin addiction. "Paul Butterfield is about to go, too" he said - kidney disease from hitting the bottle.

Looking around the room, I saw these people didn't expect to live long - Larry Taylor was saying how much Nambassa was like the old days in the '60s - Monterey Pop and Woodstock. Others in the room were asking for Quaaludes and cocaine. Finishing my free Steinlager, I thanked them all, and left them deciding what nightclub to go to.

Chris Bourke and Phil Walker