'When You Were A Mod, I Was A Rocker' by Robert Graham
When you were a Mod, I was a Rocker, and from then the distinctions between us only grew.
You entered your Baroque phase, and abandoned the Vespa and parka in favour of a chestnut stallion and frock coat. I never thought a periwig looked right on you, but on dress-down days, you favoured jeans and a Scarlatti 1721 tour T-shirt, which I have to say I liked, although at the time I was in my Blue Period and dressed monochromatically in shades of blue and blue-green, only occasionally warmed by other colors.
You had signed up with the metaphysical poets when I went Glam and, to be honest, I think it made that hard for me to get along with your far-fetched metaphors. But I kept shtum about my reservations and I wish you had, too. It really hurt when you told me I looked like Alvin Stardust.
I think that was the era when our friends despaired of us ever getting on the same page. ‘Maybe you should just accept that your interests are too different,’ one of them said.
I really couldn’t see it when I heard you had gone Dogme 95. I had only just thrown my hat in with the Beats and maybe that was what made Lars Von Trier seem so rigid. But by now, I guess I was desperate and I suppose that when I made a sudden move to the nouvelle vague, there was a certain inevitability about the