Free The Late Greats by Nick Quantrill

the time of my life, to be honest with you. I used to love listening to Greg talk about how they were going to be bigger than The Beatles. We’d go to Spiders every weekend and then on to a house party. I felt like I was on top of the world. It felt like they ruled the city. It’s hard to describe, but it was just inevitable. I knew they were going to make it. They were just too good not to.’
    ‘Did you see him when he moved away?’
    ‘Not really. He was always busy. It was relentless. I can’t deny it hurt when they left, but we always stayed in touch. We’d write to each other every week. He never forgot. Sometimes I’d get pages and pages from him, sometimes it was just a postcard, but we made the effort. It was only really when the band split up that the letters stopped.’
    I let her reminisce for a short while before asking why Tasker had fallen out with Priestley.
    ‘The pressure. Major was always pushing them to do more. Despite what you think, Greg wasn’t cut out for that world and there was always more expected from him. He was the one doing the real hard work. Deep down, I don’t think he particularly enjoyed it. I think all of the living out of a suitcase, moving on from one city to another, took the fun out of it. It was just too much, but Major expected him to keep producing new songs. I can’t imagine many people thrive under those circumstances.’
    ‘But things changed?’
    She nodded. ‘It all got too much for Greg in the end. He ran out of steam. He had writer’s block and couldn’t produce anything. Priestley didn’t need asking twice; he was straight in there with his own songs, taking over things.’
    ‘Greg didn’t like it?’
    ‘Of course he didn’t. It was his band, not Priestley’s.’
    ‘What did he do about it?’
    ‘He went into a downward spiral of drink and drugs. He had no confidence in himself. Although he eventually got his act back together, Priestley wanted to be the one calling the shots and Greg never felt comfortable trying to take the lead again. Part of me thinks it was just boys being boys, that they both wanted to be top dog, but Greg told me he was really freaked out by how much Priestley wanted control of things.’
    ‘What about Major?’ I asked. ‘I thought he was Greg’s mate?’
    ‘It was always about the money for him. He needed the band on the road and making records.’
    ‘But they stayed in touch after the band split up?’
    ‘So far as I know.’
    ‘They weren’t as close to Priestley?’
    ‘Definitely not’ she said.
    ‘Priestley’s wife said he was looking to the reunion as being a chance to right some wrongs, say a proper goodbye?’
    ‘I wouldn’t know about that.’
    ‘What did Greg want out of the reunion?’
    She thought about my question. ‘I think he saw it as a chance to put the past behind him. He’d recorded a new solo album, which he was really proud of. It was a chance to start over.’
    I could see that re-launching his solo career on the back of New Holland’s tour made sense. Especially if his previous work hadn’t been well received. It seems that there was plenty at stake for everyone.
    The cafe was emptying. A few stragglers remained, making hot drinks last as long as possible.
    ‘You won’t tell his parents about me and Greg?’ she asked.
    ‘I won’t tell them’ I said. More secrets and lies.

 
     
    You’re in a whirlwind of recording and touring. You move down to London. It’s the place to be. You’re sharing a flat in Camden with Kane. Only Priestley has decided to stay in Hull, preferring to travel down when he has to. You don’t understand his attitude. You want to make a great album, but you want to enjoy yourself as you do it. There’s alcohol, drugs and women on tap for you all. Kane joins in, encourages your behaviour. Even though the music press love you, you veer from outrageous self-confidence to crushing self-doubt. You push the thoughts to one side. There’s always another party