A Tall Tale
Giant took notice of the long shadows & decided to quit for the day in the apple orchard. He stretched, took forty steps & covered the quarter mile to the mouth of his cave. He sat down & pulled a sweet smelling cork out of a two hundred gallon jug. Scrumpy is what he poured into a mug having the same capacity as a bath tub.
As he quaffed he perceived that something strange was in the air, stirring the serenity of the Somerset countryside. He slowly rose to his full height & whispered, "Ar, there be a good zound floatin' in the east wind. I think I'll investigate."
You must understand that the giant doesn't go out much, except when he sees his girlfriend in France now & then (she's the daughter of Gargantua) - & twice a century at that! Now he had another good excuse to break the routine of his work at the orchard.
He travelled swiftly through the night, carefully avoiding populated areas. When he came to the Salisbury Plain he decided to see if his stone ring was still standing. He made it as a boy, just for fun. As he approached, two long-haired youths sitting against a slab looked up. One said, "this stuff is pretty good gear. I've just hallucinated a great big far-out lookin' giant over there."
The other said, "Farout man, I see him too."
They sat motionless for a few moments, then the giant turned & continued his quest towards the sound. When he was out of their sight the first one whispered wide-eyed, "Too much man, us having the same hallucination." The other youth had fainted.
Sure enough, the sound was coming from Portsmouth way. To the giant's delight it came from a cottage out in the countryside, far from the centre of town. Inside, six dedicated musicians were tearing off a rendition of 'Why Not?' at a thousand watts; that's enough to rip the top of anybody's head. All except the giant's. He just laid on his stomach, rested his head on his folded arms & listened with an ear to each open window for good stereo.
The band stopped after three hours & Ray said to Kerry, "Let's go out & dig the stars." They opened the front door & nearly walked up the giant's nostrils. They jumped back inside shakin' all over & both said at once, "There's abigfaceoutthereit'sbigit'sbig - oh!"
The others noticed immediately that something was wrong so they all went out to have a look. They saw the head of a great big giant, sleeping peacefully. Phil was at the head of the group. He turned & said, "Gary, did you spike our tea again?"
Just then the giant opened his eyes. "Be ee the boys as were makin' that good zound?"
Martin, at once put at ease by the friendly accent answered, "Yes, it was us. I'm sorry if we made too much noise. You see, we moved out here so we wouldn't bother anybody & -"
"Bother anybody? But that's the gentlest music I've ever 'eard apart from thunderstorms."
Needless to say they all got on very well after the giant had said that. Frank the roadie moved the instruments outside & they played the rest of the night for him. Somewhere in Portsmouth a seismograph reported a mild earthquake when the giant was dancing.
In the morning I drove down from London with the group's manager Gerry & my friend George the artist. We drove around to the back of the cottage & gaped at the group laying in the grass listening to stories of the giant's distant past. Derek ran to us as the car lurched into reverse & bade us to halt. He explained everything & soon we were listening to the amazing things the giant had to say.
Before the giant left, it was suggested that he pose for a picture with the group. No matter how I angled my polaroid I just couldn't get everyone in the picture. I have some photos of six guys & a big boot, six guys, a big eye & part of a big nose: but I couldn't get a decent picture of the giant & the band together. George was more successful. The giant placed him at the top of a tall tree & in fifteen minutes George had done the rough sketch.
Well, there you have it. The story of the Gentle Giant. You may think it's fantastic, but then, so is the music.
(Tony Visconti, record producer)
(n+13/07/04)
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