“This song is for the drunk that has been asking for a Van Morrison number.”
This was the low point in my musician career. I was gigging in a pub in Rugby, Warwickshire and a guy had been heckling me for most of the evening asking me to play him a Van Morrison song. He was loud, obnoxious and determined to get his request played. I knew he would keep asking but I was trying to put it off for as long as I could just to annoy him.
He knew what I was doing and he knew I knew. I had the microphone. He had a large loud gob and didn’t mind who heard. He had also consumed a a fair amount of Guinness. I was turning out to be an interesting gig. Things went downhill from there.