In the sixties everyone you knew became famous. My flatmate was Terence Stamp. My barber was Vidal Sassoon. David Hockney did the menu in a restaurant I went to. I didn't know anyone unknown who didn't become famous.
I sought my father in the world of the black musician because it contained wisdom experience sadness and loneliness. I was not ever interested in the music of boys. From my youngest years I was interested in the music of men.