A song becomes a bit pretentious when it’s divided into three different parts and is refered to as a somewhat of a rock opera. Can be a divider amongst fans. Or at least it should be.
I must say that I’m one of the lovers here, but at the same time I’ll come clean about having trouble with the leather clad poet sometimes. Not everything he’s done is up there with the pure brilliance he is capable of. But let’s not go there now, enjoy these 11 minutes of bliss from the cold month of February 1978.
/ Mike Murgatroyd.