The Who's Bingley Bang

I WAS in a pretty blasphemous mood when I left for Stafford. But the thought of seeing the Who cheered me up. It had been a bad couple of months. Rock and roll had let me down. Driving out of London through Wealdstone in search of the M1, past the Railway Hotel where it all began 10 years ago, the adrenalin began to flow like fine old cognac. I was excited.