In this section, Bill Kopp presents exclusive content not available in the book.
Yogi Lang leads German rock group RPWL. Formed in the late 1990s, RPWL started out as a Pink Floyd tribute band, but soon evolved into a group playing its own original music. There are many highlights in the group's catalog; for me their 2005 album World Through My Eyes and 2012's Beyond Man and Time are especially impressive; 2017's A New Dawn is also superb.
In 2015 RPWL returned to their roots and staged their own version of a little-known Pink Floyd set piece from the years before The Dark Side of the Moon. A performance from that tour was filmed and recorded and released in 2016 as RPWL Plays Pink Floyd's The Man and the Journey. I spoke at length with Lang about that project, and about the influence Pink Floyd has had upon his original work.
When I discovered that you had done an entire performance at a recording of The Man and the Journey, I thought, “This would be a perfect opportunity to talk with Yogi.”
Yeah, it's nice that you're saying that because it's a very, very interesting period of Pink Floyd; it’s an interesting period in music anyway. This time up from '68 and '69, '70 and all those productions going on, the show is going bigger, the possibilities of technique are all developing. And I was always thinking that [The Man and the Journey] is really underrated, because this new idea of music of Pink Floyd is born there, I think. Having shows that are bound into a concept … not [just] these long tracks, but having just a concept that has a start and an end, and you sitting there and listen to it. But when we played it here [in Germany] nobody knew it!
Let's start at the beginning. What was your first exposure to Pink Floyd's music?
I think I was 10 when I had holidays with my parents at some relatives that live in Germany. My older cousin that was, I think, six or seven years older, came up with an LP. There was a flying pig in front of it over a London power plant. And I said, “What the hell is that?” He played the music to me. It's not exactly that kind of music that you hear and then you start dancing, or you [think] “Hey, I like it” or something. I was 10 years old and I was paralyzed.
Because Animals has all those real big melodies in it, and it was another dimension of music for me at that time. And I asked him if he had another one, and he said, “Yes, I've got one more.” He had The Dark Side of the Moon. I [said,] “Okay, just [tape a copy for] me.” I [went] away with two cassette tapes. And I think for a couple of months I really didn't listen to them. But just a couple of months later I listened to the tapes, and was when my interest in music began.
So now people often ask me, “When you write lyrics, when you write music, when you do an album with RPWL, do you have Pink Floyd in mind?” No, it's just [that] the music you listen to when you grow up is so bound to your life. And this is what happened with Pink Floyd's music. When you say that music can be a part of your youth, of your growing up as the person you are, then it's Pink Floyd for me.
What to you is the band's most under-appreciated work in that post-Syd pre-Dark Side period?
It's a difficult question, because I don't know how people really rate their work. For me if you say underrated and mean “not known,” then it's really The Man And The Journey. When we played The Man And The Journey, for most of the people it was a totally new experience.
Do you consider Pink Floyd a “progressive group”?
If you take the word as it is, of course it's a progressive group because it's a group that made their way through the seventies with all the technique that came up. [They were] doing The Dark Side of the Moon [live] with a quadraphonic sound using new tape machines that were invented, and used even more tracks in the Wish You Were Here album. So they always [explored] what is possible in technique. When you listen to The Dark Side of the Moon, when you listen to “Time,” with all these tape loops that Alan Parsons did for them, I think they gave music a new dimension.
The Dark Side of the Moon is influenced by the technique of producing your music in a studio. Not being really ruled by the technique, but ruling the technique, and the technique helped to form the music.
What was it that led RPWL to do The Man and The Journey?
Because I'm still impressed about how the Pink Floyd thing began and what are the roots of this music. And...yeah that's a simple other thing because people often asked to play Pink Floyd, so if you do a tour and the people say, "No, play that song", or "play that song" and "play a Floyd Song", and I thought okay then let's do it but let's do it really as a historic thing, and bring the people what they may do not know of Pink Floyd.
And so we announced this show The Man and The Journey. I totally understand that if your Pink Floyd horizon goes to The Division Bell and your oldest thing you know is maybe "Another Brick In The Wall" then you're totally fresh. And I remember that show we played a couple of theatres and we played the “Tea Time.” We did that when we played in theatres because you have this atmosphere, and then technicians brought a table and we sat there and they took a break, and people were sitting there for minutes and looking, “What the hell is going on?” Yeah, and it's so nice to impress people with this; it's a color of the music of Pink Floyd that they missed maybe. And a lot of people came after the show and said, “Now I think I understand it more than before.”
It fills in some blanks, I think.
It was interesting to play that show now, with our instrument, with maybe a musical understanding that is not in '69 but in 2015. And so it sounds of course quite different, but it's another thing that is interesting. Many people have said, “It's brilliant. Because it's Pink Floyd, but I don't know a single song.”
One of the things that I noticed about listening to RPWL Plays Pink Floyd's The Man and the Journey is that you very much made it your own, especially on the more abstract numbers like Work. On that piece, you put a melody in there when there really wasn't one. What was your guiding principle for creating new music to go with the piece?
I wanted to focus on the story because it was this making music about a man's life and going through the day of a man's life, and then put it in the second half or put it in a more yeah, psychedelic context. Pink Floyd always played it different, so you couldn't play it like Pink Floyd. But it was so interesting, really, to focus on this “Awakening” part, because you start with the “Awakening” and the whole concept is awakening. And then you come to this “Work” thing, and it's work. I had a hammer and a saw and a lot of things; we just tried somehow to base it on what the Floyd did.
But on the thought of what Floyd did to make noises that combine this music with this work thing, that isn’t nice, you know? The sound of work doesn't sound nice and so this was a mixture. We tried to focus on the story, and that made a couple of things different and, I think, more interesting.
In my own view – and I'm guessing that you would agree – The Man And The Journey is in some ways kind of a prototype for the conceptual work of The Dark Side of the Moon and the later albums. Can you tell me your thoughts on that?
Absolutely, absolutely. This is what I said at the beginning what I meant when I said that this is somehow the beginning of the new Floyd, not only of the songs but also of how this thinking about this thought how music should be and how music should be presented to people. You have this concept show and you have this conceptual thinking of music. If you remember, Roger Waters did a solo work at that time …
Yes, exactly. So I would say that Rogers Waters took this musical thing that the whole band had and tried to put it into concepts he had in mind, and I think it led into The Dark Side of the Moon.
One of the things that I found interesting about The Man And The Journey is that with the exception of maybe little bits of “Behold The Temple Of Light” and maybe some of “Work,” almost all of the music existed already. And so it was just a matter of saying, “Well, we have this and this and this and this; how can we put these things together?” And in a lot of ways I think that The Dark Side of the Moon is the same sort of thing because various little pieces of that existed in different forms: Rick Wright had done the basis of “Us and Them” for Zabriskie Point, and that wasn't used, and the main melody of a big chunk of “Money” was something that they improvised live on television during the Apollo moon landing.
I think it's an important part of the music of Pink Floyd that you have this structure of an album which not necessarily has to be a concept album, but you have this feeling that the first song is the first song and the last song was the last song.
Exactly. Even if it doesn't – strictly speaking – tell a story, you're right, it flows. Sequencing is so important.
I've seen various people over the years comment that Pink Floyd were not especially technically proficient as musicians and that therein lies some of the appeal of their music. What are your thoughts on that idea?
I think this is not something that is really part of Pink Floyd's music. In my thoughts it would have been simply impossible for Roger Waters to make his music without having such an extraordinary gifted guitar player in David Gilmour. I mean there are musicians that are even maybe more technically able to play faster notes, to play more things … but why? That combination of Waters and Gilmour is so focused on the story and so focused on “I have to play these notes, not one more, and this is perfect.”
So no jazz musician should ever play “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.” You know what I mean? [laughs]
all content ©2018 Bill Kopp
Though he is – and has always been – a strikingly original artist, Cambridge-born Robyn Hitchcock is clearly influenced by Syd Barrett. Hitchcock is a master of wordplay, and he can always be counted on to provide keen insight on whatever subject one might wish to explore. I'm a longtime fan of the music he has made with the Soft Boys, the Egyptians, and his more recent and solo work as well. I first interviewed him more than a decade ago, and was impressed with his ability to come up with succinct and memorable aphorisms almost on demand. This exclusive excerpt from our interview for Reinventing Pink Floyd focuses on his impressions of the Syd Barrett era and shortly thereafter. And it's worth noting that the very best bits from our conversation aren't even included here. They're in the book.
Your love of surrealistic imagery and wordplay seems to be, if not directly influenced by Syd Barrett, then perhaps at least a product of some of the same kind of influences that inspired him. What you find appealing in his lyrics, and how does that relate to your own work?
Like M.C. Escher, there was something of the impossible about him, and I think that has a very strong magnetic pull. I'm sure that he and I had similar influences; we both listened to the Beatles. [He was] a Beatles and Dylan fan as I am, and [of] The Wind in the Willows and those other sort of children's books. I'm sure there are similarities, which is probably why he affected me so strongly; it's not like I picked up on Michael Jackson or Roy Orbison or somebody. Syd was definitely a kind of role model; he was a sort of phantom older brother, I suppose.
What in particular did you find in his work that was notable or noteworthy?
I think the guitar playing and melodies...and how he used words. I mean, I've said some of these things before, but when you hear his songs – particularly the later ones – it's as if there is a cable running directly from his frontal lobe into your ears. You listen to Roger Waters, and there are some great lyrics, but it's all been thought out. Barrett sort of wrote in spite of himself; I think it just came out.
I know he walked a lot; he was a big walker. Especially [when] he kind of seemed to find it harder to create, he would just sort of stomp around the place. And a lot of the songs [on Barrett] have a kind of walking rhythm; you can just imagine the words occurring to him as he was walking around the streets of London or around the countryside in Cambridge, or just stalking the back streets or whatever he did with his life. And I just sort of feel like he's walking and thinking; you just could see it coming from his consciousness directly. And it's very ironic, given that he kind of erased himself completely, in terms of being into that end of the world in any way at all by all accounts, except with his family.
You were a fairly young teenager when The Piper at the Gates of Dawn came out...
I heard Piper, but I wasn't crazy about it. I liked it, but I felt like it was a lot of...Syd seemed like a guy with a lot of attitude, and I didn't actually get into him properly for another five years. And then I just did completely. Well, that went directly into my hypothalamus, you know? Direct injection of Barrett at point blank range, intravenous.
With the benefit – or baggage, perhaps – of hindsight, it's difficult now to imagine what it must have been like for fans of Pink Floyd when Syd left. They released a couple of unsuccessful singles and then A Saucerful Of Secrets. Do you recall how you received the post-Syd material when you first heard it?
I heard a cousin of mine play A Saucerful of Secrets, and my favorite track was “Jugband Blues” actually. But I was a pop fan...I knew somebody who was being a Pink Floyd somewhere out of London when Barrett was still in there, and she'd said, “Oh, they weren't very good.” Syd was probably already getting very difficult to work with. They were having top twenty hits, but they also did the bits in between which didn't go down well with the straights, with the bumpkins. They didn't want 10 minutes of free form. Within the Barrett era, they married two things that aren't bedfellows: pop music and, for want of a better word, electric jazz.
It must have been really hard for a lot of people to understand what they were doing. It must have been very difficult to do, and I'm sure that helped exacerbate Barrett's condition. Or, by the sound of it, he was gone anyway, but it would have made it worse. His reaction would be to just stand there and play one verse if he felt like it, which didn't endear him to the others. [After Syd was gone,] they'd left Jenner and King but they were still able to go out and play live. Their audience would have all been stoned and tripping and sitting on the floor. I didn't like it as much as I liked [the Barrett era]. I think it actually became a totally different act, and I wasn't really drawn to it very much. I did like some of the songs on Ummagumma; I love “Grantchester Meadows” and I like some of the stuff on More.
But really, they just straightened it all out as everything itself was straightening out. People were realizing their limitations with psychedelics, and there was a general sort of “get back” movement with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan, all kind of discarding the hype decidedly and trying to get sort of basic again. A lot of people took their cue from that, but Floyd didn't go rootsy. It was just more organized, but they kept that visual element. They had good lights, and when they could afford it they started having planes and all the rest of it. What they kept from the Barrett days was making sure that the show was visually interesting. Not they themselves; they were very anonymous at being on the stage. But they made sure that there was some kind of spectacle.
Do you think that More would be, if not a piece of, maybe at least on the periphery of that of back-to-acoustic kind of movement?
I don't know. I'm sure they were listening to all that stuff, but to their credit they didn't try and get rootsy. They were still a kind of a prog group, you know? But it was no longer a kind of journey through the eliminated brain, But they had a very good way of setting things out when they had the effects. They used the sound effects, and it got gentler and tamer and more organized. You know "Alan's Psychedelic Breakfast" was a great piece. And for some of the stuff they did on Meddle, they developed very pleading kind of sounds, even though the songs got quite dour. And even though Gilmour often wound up playing quite sort of metal solos, it was something about the way they set things up.
all content ©2017-2018 Bill Kopp
Most rock fans think of Steve Howe as the guitarist from Yes; he joined after the band completed its second album, and -- some gaps notwithstanding -- has been with Yes ever since. He's also the founder of supergroup Asia, and releases occasional solo albums. But back in the 1960s, he was in a psychedelic group called tomorrow. That band enjoyed hits in the UK including "My White Bicycle". They also played on bills with the earliest lineup of Pink Floyd. In the course of my research for Reinventing Pink Floyd, I spoke with Howe about those times.
You took part in some live events that have gone down in history. I've read various accounts, but as someone who was right there in the thick of it, can you give me an idea of what The 14 Hour Technicolor Dream was like?
That one? I mean, I can only talk about the things that I remember! I can still remember walking in there -- up the corridor or somewhere -- where there was a dressing room and seeing Roy Wood. That was the same night Hendrix and Floyd [played] and everything.
And when the time came, we [Tomorrow] walked on stage and plugged into amps I really, really didn't like which were called WEM. It was 100 watts and I wasn't a 100 watt guy; I was a 50 watt guy. So for some reason you couldn't use your amps. I guess I got some sort of noise that I could recognize, and we went off into playing our set. It was all kind of intensely crazy and spaced out. Let's not deny: everybody was pretty flipped out at that point. We were either high or somebody had tripped.
But we weren't an LSD band in the sense that we did LSD and went on stage like some bands play with LSD. We saw LSD as a very occasional indulgence into the unknown, the spiritual, the cosmic, the wonderful naturopathic sort of value I appreciated that only when I experienced LSD in the country. That stopped me taking it forever, because it was nothing better than being in the country. But those early experiences...only occasionally, only a few.
In those days, Tomorrow had the same booking agent -- the Bryan Morrison Agency -- as Pink Floyd, correct?
Yes. It was mainly Steve O'Rourke and Tony Howard that spotted us playing. Tony and Steve had so much enthusiasm for us; it was great to get that kind of feeling of support: we were on Charing Cross Road, signing to Bryan Morrison! He had loosened us up with some champagne and we signed an agreement with him.
So we kind of felt like we were in that camp with these [Pink Floyd] guys. They were really nice and it was a lot of fun because we did many shows together. Not that we were in the same dressing rooms or we said a lot to each other but we must have opened for Floyd -- between the UFO, that crazy place, and all sorts of other gigs -- I don't know, ten or twenty times at least. The same for Hendrix; we did loads of shows where it was Tomorrow somewhere with Hendrix, and we loved all that because there was a circuit [that included] people like Traffic and the Move.
But one night we were playing somewhere else, and I was rushed to London to stand in for Syd Barrett. Now, these kind of things, when they happen to you they boost your confidence even if nothing comes of it. But the fact that they said, "Syd Barrett's not going to make it, so let's get that guy from Tomorrow to get up on the stage and jam," that delighted me. I was so impressed.
I'd done sessions, so I knew what it was like; I love playing with people I hadn't played with before. So Tomorrow came back to London on the rush; I think we might have come from Southampton. And of course I got there and -- I think it was Steve O'Rourke or maybe Joe Boyd -- one of the guys came out and said , "Well, thanks a lot, but actually Syd's just about going to make it."
Syd Barrett's guitar style was a sort of an untrained, wild approach. I've always thought of your style coming from a much more trained, serious place. So if you had filled in for Syd, would you have been prepared to just sort of flail and freak out in the way that he did with the band?
Certainly, yes. I think that everyone understood -- and Tomorrow demonstrated it -- that we had songs, but they weren't the main thing we had. Tomorrow had this explosive instrumental interpretation improvisation going on.
Pink Floyd's songs on the records were very well-crafted and geared up, but I think when Syd got on stage I think he ad-libbed a lot more across the music. And I imagine that's what I would do. In other words I would sense, "Okay, we're in 'C.' Well, I could do something here. Oh, nobody's singing? Okay, well I'll open up. Somebody's singing? I won't open up." So I would have just bluffed my way through it and enjoyed it because of that. Of course it would be better to have a rehearsal and know why the hell you're doing it, but if it's a stand-in gig, then you just do that.
In the times that you were around Pink Floyd, were you witness to anything that, either then or in retrospect, suggested that there were problems with Syd?
Well, I mean reputations were all one really knew. I wouldn't say Tomorrow and Pink Floyd were sort of arm in arm, but when we'd see each other it was, Hello, how are you doing? What time are you on? and that kind of thing. So I don't think we were close enough to get that kind of reference, but at the same time we were in the circle of Tony and Steve and the sort of team there, and many nights were spent in attics playing music and talking. So a lot of stories were exchanged about people. So there may have been gossip, of knowing that Syd was a bit on the edge. Maybe he dropped too many tabs and he was all going a bit shaky at times. So when you saw them you kind of accepted that. I would say I saw less of him than I did of Roger and Nick.
Around the same time, Davy O'List from the Nice got a call like you did, but in his case he actually did end up doing the gig.
Really? I ran into Davy recently on a couple of occasions, one in physical and a few emails, I think. But I was introduced to him maybe a year or so go back, and then I met him again. He gave me his album [Second Thoughts] and I played it. It's quite good.
I remember how I stood in for Davy O'List when he left Nice; I joined Nice for a day, and then I left the next day for reasons that are much more complicated than just... let's say that Keith [Emerson] and I liked each other's music a lot.
Pink Floyd's visuals -- especially lights and projections -- were a big part of their live experience back then. Did that make an impression on you?
This is the difference about a band like Floyd. They not only had this very unusual music -- very personal music -- but also they came with that idea [of visuals]. And it was exciting; it was intense.
We did use projection; we did have a guy doing projection for us. We did, in the end at various places, have all the bubbly stuff going on on stage. But I think the Floyd took it always to another level. I got a sense of it from another perspective. I remember one night when the Roundhouse just started, they started putting psychedelic concerts, and I remember we were going on after Pink Floyd. We were going on at one o'clock in the morning or something, because it was an all-nighter. I got really tired and I laid down on the flight case, and when I laid down I looked up and what I could see was their screen. So before I went to nap I was kind of looking at this kit from another place... the wrong place if you like.
How closely did you pay attention to the kind of music Pink Floyd was making once David Gilmour came on board? What did you think of that compared to what they had been doing before?
We always thought of them as a very big band who were always going to project this style of their music, and it just didn't stop living up to those expectations. And of course when Dave came along -- he's a great guitarist -- he had a way of bringing these blues influences but not muddying it up with Pink Floyd's sound. He brought blues into the rock thing.
You've mentioned how the first couple Yes albums are somewhat overlooked and underrated. Pink Floyd's story is similar in that way. After Barrett was gone and before The Dark Side of the Moon, they were developing all these different ideas. They would throw ideas against the wall and see what would stick. Some things would work and some things wouldn't, but whenever anything would work it was as if they sort of filed it away in their minds for use in a different way later. To me, Dark Side is a kind of culmination of all the positive lessons that they learned in making Atom Heart Mother, the soundtrack to More and all these different things.
That's right. They learned as they went along. They got more confident, they continued to be able to write, stop and team up on ideas sometimes, and just make some of the right moves. I guess that's what musicians do: they make it look easy...and that's what they keep doing.
all content ©2017 Bill Kopp
Guitarist Davy O'List was a member of The Nice (also featuring a keyboardist named Keith Emerson) when he got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
As 1967 neared its end, Pink Floyd was becoming increasingly popular in England. But the band's front man, primary songwriter and guitarist/vocalist Syd Barrett was becoming erratic and unreliable; sometimes showing up late for gigs, and – on at least two occasions – missing a performance altogether.
When the latter happened, Barrett's band mates – bassist Roger Waters, keyboardist Rick Wright and drummer Nick Mason – faced a tough decision: cancel the gig and risk embarrassment (or worse), or draft someone to play guitar in place of the missing-in-action Barrett. On December 2, 1967 at a gig in Brighton, they chose the latter option, calling on a friend of Barrett, guitarist David Gilmour.
But Barrett went AWOL on at least one other occasion, fifteen days earlier, in the Beatles' hometown of Liverpool. On that night, Pink Floyd called upon Davy O'List to fill in.
I spoke with Davy O'List about this episode (and other topics) in connection with my research for Reinventing Pink Floyd: From Syd Barrett to The Dark Side of the Moon, to be published February 2018. Excerpts from our conversation are featured in the book. Today I present additional reminiscences from O'List about his one-night-only tenure as Pink Floyd's guitarist.
Bill Kopp: The music that The Nice were making at the time was very, very different from what Pink Floyd were doing. How familiar were you with Pink Floyd's music before the gig?
Davy O'List: Well, I'd like to say the music that we were doing was not very far different. Because we were slightly in line with the psychedelic sound that Pink Floyd had got, and I would often go off into soloist bits, something which might fit Pink Floyd's [sound], and I think that's why Pink Floyd came to me. Because they knew that I could just fit in, and play their music using my experience that I had with The Nice.
The Nice and Pink Floyd were together on the '67 Jimi Hendrix tour. I understand that the way that those went, everyone's set was fairly short. It was, “get up there, play a few songs, get off and then the next band.” Is that accurate?
At the shows, were you able to kind of take in their live set at all? Or were you too busy getting ready for your own set, or finishing up?
I really, really loved the Pink Floyd. To see the way they played was just mind-blowing. And then to actually do a tour with them was a dream come true. So I used to go out to the audience every night and watch their set at the back. And that was how I learned their stuff, really, because I was very interested in their sounds and very interested in Syd and what he was doing with his echo effects. I picked up on most of their stuff, and it just was embedded in my memory and I knew what they were doing; I knew what it was. So when it was presented to me, you know, “Now, play it,” I knew what it was. So it wasn't hard.
I've heard live recordings from that period; with the benefit of hindsight, their live set was quite different from their records. Did you find it to be very different as well?
Some of it was, but some of it was the same. “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun,” for example, was pretty much the same.
Do you remember what songs you did when you played with them?
I did “Interstellar Overdrive.”
That was it? Just the one?
Yes. But it went on for a very long time. Because The Pink Floyd, The Move and Jimi Hendrix had the longest spots. The Nice, I suppose we had about ten minutes; they had at least 15-20. So we did about 20 minutes of “Interstellar Overdrive,” and I did a ten-minute guitar solo.
I'm assuming that there was nothing in the way of rehearsal with the band ahead of you stepping in...
Yeah, there wasn't any rehearsal. They knew what I could do, and I knew their music, so we just hit it, really. And it just gelled; it was great.
How exactly did events transpire that you got to play with them? Who asked you: one of the band or one of the guys from their management team Blackhill Enterprises?
Well, we were in Liverpool and we were playing the Liverpool Empire Theatre. And I went out with The Nice's drummer Blinky [Brian “Blinky” Davison] to see the Cavern Club in Liverpool. Of course you have to see the Cavern Club if you go to Liverpool. But it was closed!
So we walked back to the theatre – which is just around the corner really – and went up to the dressing room. The Pink Floyd was standing in my dressing room, and [one of them] said, “Is that is Syd just walking off ? We're just about to go on!” They asked if I would step in. They said, “We know you can do it, because we've heard your stuff with The Nice. You'd fit in okay.” I was pretty flabbergasted; it was an awesome thing for someone to say to me.
And I said, “Well, you know, how can I appear in front of all these screaming teenagers? They're expecting Syd. They've been watching on television for all this time and they're going to notice that it's not Syd." They said, “Don't worry about that. We've got Syd's hat. You just wear it, and they'll think you're him.”
So I wore his hat, this big black hat. I came out and they were all screaming. And I don't know if they knew the difference, actually.
I've read one account that said that you filled in for Syd multiple times, and others say just once.
It was just one, but at that point the rest of the band were re-thinking what they were going to do. When I [played] with them their music suddenly changed, because I was doing 10 minute guitar solos... proper lead guitar solos, which didn't quite do; because [Syd] had been making noises and sounds. And I think that they realized their direction would change from that point.
Then after that they came along to see me play a few times with The Nice, and I thought that they were trying to get me into the band. I was a bit shy to talk to them at that point and they could see that The Nice were doing so very well, so I don't think they felt like they could pull me away. I think it was like that.
all content ©2017 Bill Kopp