Around this time Charlotte Rampling was our sort of stepmother. We lived in a place called ‘The Studio’ in Hugh Street. She and my father travelled to the East to pick up a damaged London to Sydney Mercedes works rally car and drive it back to Europe along the hippy trail. Of course my father filled the car with hash and even though they had papers from Mercedes they only just made it back through the border crossings and past highly suspicious customs officers by the skin of their teeth.
I met Jimi Hendrix when I was five years old. My father introduced my brother and me to him backstage before the show in the Albert Hall in 1969. Jimi hoisted me up on his shoulders and ran around the dressing room with me. And then, at some point during the performance, I ran onto the stage and whispered something in his ear. Who knows what I said.