Ok, maybe not quite the thing to do in these troubled times but I am an innocent abroad ! I caused some quizzical faces from the well-heeled onlookers of Bond Street as I snapped away outside Asprey Jewellers but then noticed I seemed to be attracting more concerned looks from the staff within. What exactly is that middle-aged, slightly unkempt looking (kids' words not mine) chap with a camera and anorak doing ? Moving on swiftly, I was drawn once more like a moth to the flame of No 3. I think in the last few months the graffiti count is up big time. Looking down into the basement I pondered on the issue around the Beatles Studio and Magic Alex's promises of wanderment and the musical nirvanah of a 72 track recorder. I have always had a bit of a fascination with this Uber-Hanger-On. The fact that he somehow kept the arch cynic Lennon on board with his promises is peculiar. However, I recall my own interest when reading as a teenager back in the 70's that MA had promised endlessly flashing boxes and telephome answering machines. Some interesting words from George Martin's autobiography (see ealier entry) on Magic Alex :-
"Of all the army of hangers-on, the one I recall most vividly, because he impinged on my work and my musical relationship with the boys, was Magic Alex. I can never remember his real name, but he was a Greek who had ingratiated himself with John Lennon, and who was so preposterous that it would have been funny had he not caused so much embarressment with me in the recording studio.."
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