THE CENTRE OF THE ROCK UNIVERSE:

In our small town the iron mongers was the centre of the
music industry. I don’t mean it was where the stars of
the village hall circuit met, I mean ‘the centre of the
music industry’ if you loved your rock music & liked it
heavy. On the one side of town Geezer Butler, bass player
with Black Sabbath raised chickens on the edge of the
forest in a beautiful house replete with requisite
Zebra skin rugs, slot machines & platinum discs.
Every few weeks he would pull up outside the iron mongers
in a metallic blue Roller, run into the shop, wild hair
& wizard’s robes flowing, re-emerging ten minutes later
with a roll of chicken wire which he’d lob onto the
fine white leather upholstery before heading back to the
woods. On the other side of town lived Robert Plant,
legendary frontman of the equally iconic rock band
Led Zeppelin. You didn’t see Robert so often, but at least
one a week a rusty American flat bed would pull up outside
the iron mongers loaded with hairy gardeners all resembling
Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull. They would load up with
chicken wire, pile back into the flat bed & head off in the
opposite direction. It was a commonplace sight in our little
town, as Birmingham was a just spit away & any Brummy with money
headed West to the fields & the forest to capitalise on the
extended buying power to be enjoyed amongst the country folk.

All the rock stars in town knew & befriended the boy who was
crushed at Molineaux.

(K)