What memories Síle’s reference to Strangely Strange in last Sunday’s piece in the Trib brought to mind, and how amazing to have Tim Booth comment on the blog.

In the late sixties/ early seventies I was a sort of unofficial roadie of theirs for a while.
As a friend of Steve Pearce, the potter, who was their manager,he would often call on me to give a hand to set up the music and the amps when they were doing a gig.
I remember there was a young fellow, I never knew his name but remember his brilliant Afro hairstyle, at the time, who was also on this call list, so himself and my self were often sitting like pros at the console during gigs.

I hadn’t seen him for a few years when one day we spotted each other in Grafton Street and stopped to chat about the old days and the Strangelys.
As he went on his way my nephew, who was with me, had I noticed gone quite pink, and he said “How in the name of God do you know Phil Lynnot !”

I had no idea that that was he.