MIKE KING, author of the definitive Robert Wyatt biography 'WRONG MOVEMENTS', had the opportunity to interview Kevin on the way to that evening's gig. The full story appeared exclusively in WAWS 3 - an edited version of the meeting appears here

Mike King: I really do appreciate you allowing to be almost lawyer like in my ruthlessness!

Kevin Ayers: I wish I had more answers Mike, I really just don't have them...

MK ....Wellington House (where the Canterbury scene was born) was pretty much a cultural oasis?

KA: At that time when I first hit Canterbury I was 16 or 17, just out of school. I'd had a drug bust in London and they'd said 'Get out of London!', because in those days you could do that sort of thing..... So I was sent down to live with my mother which wasn't a very happy arrangement and I gradually just met up with people like Robert. Robert was first and then Mike probably, then Hugh.. I think Robert was first because we had a girlfriend in common, or at least a certain amount of desire for her. I have a song called 'When Your Parents Go To Sleep' which is about that particular lady and I used to have to creep in there at night and creep out very early in the morning and I used to walk to Wellington House which is about six miles away, quite a step first thing in the morning in the cold and there was always a welcome for me there. It's true that jazz was the thing, not just jazz but, as has been so aptly put, a 'cultural oasis.' Things were happening, people were talking, people who had some education and read books and looked at paintings and listened to music - none of which I did! (laughs) I thought this was fascinating, these really interesting people and that's how it all started. We started jamming around. I remember particularly Robert and Mike - I couldn't play anything at all but they could, piano and drums and basically we used to sit around, get a bit stoned and bang things...

MK: More or less the common memory..

KA : I just think it was one of those genetic things like girlfriends, the chemistry that worked, we had the most things in common, we had the intellectual curiosity... That has always been a key thing in my life, meeting people with 'intellectual curiosity.' It all sounds very snobbish now but at the time I wasn't aware of the difference. There were only the white men and the Indians, or the other way round, I don't mind.

MK : Was it simply an invitation that you ended up in the Wilde Flowers or you knew they were getting a group together so you came by to see what was going on?

KA : I really can't tell you that... I knew that I couldn't play anything but I damned well learned something even though it was pretty scrappy - tambourine or whatever. I learned to play something as I wanted to be with these guys. They were the most exciting people around. Simple as that, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and I didn't really care either. I used to do casual jobs.

(dialogue returns to Wellington House)

KA : That's where I met Daevid Allen who was a big influence. He was already a hippy and we were just thinking about it. He was intellectually curious and just pushing that side of things which certainly wasn't the norm. I think I was working in a men's clothing shop or as a waiter or on a farm, my social life was nil. I do remember going there and he was with one of the loves of his life - what was her name? - a plumpish girl who I have since seen round that area of Herne. Wellington House was a refuge. There was always music and painting and books, like another country... Later on I lived with Robert in Deya. I went there because of him. He said to come along and we'll find a place to stay. It was in late teens or early 20's (MK 64 or 62?) and that's where the music side of things really gelled. I'd picked up a bit of guitar by then. Deya was really..... words fail me... it was a starting point, everyone was doing something, creating something particularly in music.... loads of people writing poems and songs and painting pictures. Robert was friendly with the Graves - he gave us one of their fisherman's cottages, one stove and two mattresses between us which was fine. We had a really good time. We remet up with Daevid Allen. I remember going to a jazz club called the Indigo. Lucia Graves' husband Ramon also helped Robert with the drums - he was and still is a brilliant Spanish drummer and they used to have people like Ronnie Scott and a whole bunch of English musicians. We used to go every week and sit and watch. Robert would occasionally play drums and I would play very bad guitar. The only thing I was capable of playing was a very crude blues but I was very enthusiastic! Robert Graves took us both in and we became very friendly with the Graves family, particularly the younger brothers. That was a very magical time and a musical awakening period - Robert was already way ahead of me at that point. I have got a bit better on guitar. I adore listening to guitar - Jim Hall, Charlie Byrd, Charlie Christian - I'm just too lazy. I like to get away with the minimum possible and if you can get away with it, why not? (laughs) What a terrible confession, never mind. Is that on tape?!

KA : ........he ( stoned innocent Wes Brunson) liked it and he was the guy who said 'I'm going to send you money to buy equipment. So I was back from Deya with Robert... I think we just picked up Mike though obviously we knew him from before.

MK : You picked Mike up in London?

KA : Whatever. Then we had that place in Sturry just outside Canterbury and this guy started sending us $100 bills in each letter which we thought was absolutely magical. So we bought equipment and started to play.

MK Daevid played bass at first and you were the rhythm guitarist?

KA : Daevid was a sort of professional jazz guitarist, he really knew his stuff. I was just faking all along, still am to this day I suppose!

MK : You used to switch instruments for different songs - you'd play bass on one song, guitar on others?

KA: Yes, I was allowed to play bass because it was simple! 'Give this to Kevin to play..'

MK : Jimi Hendrix jammed with you at the Speakeasy Club at the Press Reception just after 'Love Makes Sweet Music', the same night ( 22/2/67) you opened for the Experience at the Roundhouse? When I showed Daevid a picture he said 'Oh, Jimi jammed with us.'

KA I don't remember. That's one good thing about alcohol, it does wipe out a whole bunch of unnecessary memories. I remember the important things like relationships with people. I've just managed to cut out all the crap in between. It wasn't crap at the time but I just don't have that hanging on my memory.

Later, Mike and Kevin go the Rivoli Club for that evening's gig

Naturally other subjects are raised while crossing the road, waiting backstage for the gig to begin etc.........news of the imminent Wilde Flowers CD is met with dismissive derision....can't confirm the drummer from Bridget St John's 'If You've Got Money/ Yep' 45......details about the purpose of the Gomelsky demos are vague as the group simply recorded whenever opportunities were given......then Matching Mole's 'O Caroline' fills the club and Kevin asks 'Do you know the story of Caroline ( Coon, who ran the Release legal clinic) and Robert?' Someone interjects, 'Do you want an introduction Kevin? What kind?' 'Minimal'. Collecting my nerve I ask 'May I?' and proceed to greet one hundred hungry Kevin Ayers fanatics. The long , long wait is over as those great songs unfold and the voice casts its spell.

An encore, sign autographs for backstage door knockers, shake hands and bid farewell, he's off into the night for the next town. That, my fellow 'friends through Ayers' people is more or less what transpired during our time together, from my perspective that is. There was plenty more in between and besides, not to mention a variety of frank 'off the record' quips. It turned out to be a blessed encounter, the kind not easily forgotten. Happy days Kevin, and yes, thank you very much.

MIKE KING