This is the universe. Big, isn’t it?

Inspired by Andy Pegg’s letter [MOJO 336], I’m bringing you my Everly Brothers memory. I was an eight-year-old riding my three-wheeler around Plymouth’s Tothill Park. At the end of the football pitches where I usually turned around, in an adjoining field was some kind of fête. There I had my first exhilarating experience of live music. A bespectacled youth singing Jailhouse Rock and a skiffle group (“It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song”) will forever stay in my memory.

But the most vivid one occurred as I was pedalling away. After his announcement for a knobbly knees contest, the master of ceremonies played a record. The eerie, angel voices held me spellbound. “Dream… dream, dream, dream…” It was a sound that entranced and exhilarated me. It was my musical Damascus Road, a road that lead to a life in music journalism. As stated in your editorial, great art endures. Tony Cummings, via e-mail