by David James
I have a confession to make and I would appreciate it if we keep it between ourselves. Tell no one.
OK, here it is. When I was a teenager I used to spend hours listening to Slade. I even owned a Slade record at a time when owning records was a big deal. I would sing along to lead singer Nobby Holder’s musical chunder – and, yes, I really got into it.
True, there wasn’t much else to do in Bennettswood, perhaps the closest thing in the known universe to nowhere in…
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