A recent conversation sparked memories of my working with record producer, Gus Dudgeon. Over the years I worked with Gus many times. In any studio session, I would always be there as the songwriter. But also on Gus’s sessions I’ve been at different times: Guitarist, bass player or keyboard player. All of which I’m crap at but with Gus in the producer’s chair, I never was crap. He made me rise above my limitations. I learned a lot from his approach.

As a track unfolded he would make tiny scribbled notes for ideas he wanted to progress. On one session somewhere he lost his “session notes”. He became panicky, worried that he’d lost his train of thought. Eventually, his notes were located and he heaved a sigh of relief. And then he regaled us with a tale of losing his session notes on an Elton John session (E.J., as he referred to him) And the same scenario unfolded: panicky searching around. No result. Panic rising. Desperation setting in. Someone in the studio pulled a “roach” from the ashtray. To the uninitiated, a roach is a kind of homemade “filter” inserted at the end of a marijuana “joint”. It is usually made of light card (often a torn cigarette packet). It is folded and rolled to form the desired piece of paraphernalia.

The member of the entourage for some reason unfurled the roach and there was a piece of card, singed at the edges and mostly still visible: Gus’s session notes! Gus concluded the tale by stating – for rock ‘n’ roll historians – that on that Elton John session, he had actually “smoked his session notes”.