Steve's Online Diary
Copyright Comeuppance Ltd. 2002 - 2012 This diary may not be reproduced in whole or part without permission.
Steve was in Spain visiting his dad, who turns 88 years old soon, and could not attend Lincoln Anderson's funeral, which took place in Weeley Crematorium, Essex on Thursday. Steve wrote the following tribute, which, with Lincoln's wife Shereen's permission, was read in the Chapel by Barry Wickens.
Tractors tugging carts of grain are trundling past our house til way past midnight. Between downpours, thunder storms and the fear of Bertha, the arable farmer knows full well when the time is right. Now is right. And it has been right for two weeks or more. The harvest started early here on the Essex/Suffolk border.
Listening as I write to the Best Years compilation. I passed the test CDs a few weeks ago, but the real thing is a pleasure to hold and play. It’s a sharp, bright, clean and sympathetic cut by one of Abbey Road’s master mastering engineers, Andy Pearce (Andy, it’s brilliant, flawless, thank you). Check the backing vocals and horns on Panorama. Sensational.
Recently, at a Vintage TV recording, I met Fiona Bevan, who wrote (with Ed Sheeran) a hit song for One Direction. Fiona grew up in a village close to ours. She went to school with my daughter. I have known Fiona since she was 4 years old, and now she’s a professional singer/writer/performer, and very good she is, too. So it’s a small world, eh? But wait. It gets smaller still…
Manchester is a great city; and it has always been kind to me, since the beginning. And the sight of almost 2,000 filling the fabulous Bridgewater Hall was one to savour.
We were more relaxed on stage than in Symphony Hall a year and a bit ago. We’d done it before, so the crazy pressure was relieved somewhat. I sang for my life and can’t honestly remember a performance that brought me more satisfaction in the 40+ year career (so far!).
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