When the Beatles arrived, I wanted to be a rock 'n' roller. I think, looking back on the whole affair, that my musical sophistication was probably a hindrance because of the accepted minimal street-speak. But the musical catharses that were happening around me proved the importance of song form as the backbone of melodic construct that was to subsequently evolve into my specific musical style. I think it's safe to say that never was there a greater variety of eclectic musical expression than during that period of music.

By the end of rock/pop and the subsequent fusion renaissance the Fabulous Four had shepherded in, the only logical place for me to continue was the classical or jazz scene. Rock 'n' roll's death, or at least the seeds of its demise came in the early seventies. Punk was in total denial of what we evolved into. More importantly, the loss of innocence, which is what rock 'n roll's pubescent energy is all about, no longer existed. What ensued was nothing about the joys of evolutionary discovery born of naïveté, just cynicism's perpetuating de-evolution into nihilism; a socio-political commentary whose linguistic syntax had dissipated into a monosyllabic grunt.