* Herbert – my twelve-pointed stag head. I take him with me wherever I go. A club owner gave him to me four years ago.
* Fossils. I’ve got a lot. Once when we were playing in Redcar the tide went out and we walked out on the salt scar and dug up fossils. Our road manager studied them at college and apparently I’ve got part of a giant snail which is 170,000,000 years old.
* Snakes. I used to catch grass snakes when I lived in the country.
* I would love to be successful – I think we’re an above average group and I'd love to be able to walk up to my Mum and Dad and say, "Here’s a house" or "Here’s a car" because they’ve worked hard all their lives.
* Money, but if I had it, I wouldn’t worry about it so much! The rich may have their own problems, but I think money makes you free – I would buy lots of nice things – furniture and houses.
* Steaks, cheese and milk – I’ve got the start of an ulcer. An abrasion. Really, I’m a dustbin – I’ll eat anything.
* People – everyone has something. Most of my friends are musicians, but I’ve got two friends who live in the country and they’re simple people. I like people to be simple.
* Music. Particularly modern folk – Tim Rose, Tim Hardin, Donovan, Simon and Garfunkel.
* Bizarre stage clothes. Mohair and silk flared trousers and frock coats. But offstage my tastes are different. I like sober suits and have them made because I’m long in the leg and arm. They cost me £30 each.
* The way girls dress. They’re much more hip about how they dress than boys. A bloke will sling on a sweater and jeans and rush out, but a girl takes care. French girls beat the English, but they all look good.
* My work. If I was in an office, I would take a day off when I was ill – but in this job I don’t mind working however ill I am. That shows I love it!
* Accidents. I get the horrors when I see one – and we see so many driving about the country in the van.
* I’m afraid of being given wrong advice. I like to listen to what other people say, but I’m always conscious that they may be wrong.
* Spiders and rats. I think I’ve got a rat in my flat – or a poltergeist. Whenever I go to the cupboard, things have moved – I’d rather have a poltergeist than a rat!
* Potholing. Two guys asked me to go with them once, but the idea of being hundreds of feet underground with just two inches clear above my head would drive me berserk.
* Danish blue cheese.
* Caviare. I tried it when we were in France, but I didn’t like it – and I certainly wouldn’t pay £10 an ounce for it.
* Reading about other groups knocking each other. It turns the business into a rat race.
* Shoulder-padded Herberts who fight after they’ve had a few beers, the types who come up to you and say, "We done the group what came here last week!" and then hit out.
* Country and Western music.
* Groups who keep bashing away like lunatics, just producing a load of noise. It seems to be the "in" thing to be loud and they’re doing the groups who can play music out of work.
* Having to work seven days a week, which we do, and being continually told by people what a wonderful life it must be playing pop music. It’s no holiday: it’s hard work.
Article kindly provided by Phil McCarthy.
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