Superfly Part Two – Anthony Randall

Mom's Favorite Reads

Luke was with us almost from the off, a trumpet playing maestro who hardly ever missed a gig and uniquely, remained a part of the furniture until the very end. Butwhen the bearded elfin hippie first walked into the stale smoke, sweat infused rehearsal room we’d hired; we had scant idea of his calibre or indeed of his catalogue.

Up until 1992 I had only ever been in original outfits, always trying to write the perfect pop song, always searching for a record deal. We were signed to an independent label back in’85 and put out two singles, an exciting time, but barely a soupcon of the major industry. The pinnacle of that foray was touring nightclubs miming to the singles and signing record sleeves and photographs given away to eager grasping hands, keen on a freebie, some of which ended up on the dance floor. This endeavour faded away to nothing, yet we soldiered on.

It was my Brother Terry, my on off bass player for an eternity, who suggested that we form a covers band after my last original line up went their separate ways. Together with a mutual friend Paul, a guitarist of some…

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