rke,  Jameson ruly o  and per to book te for t some el, sometime.

    But Clarke gave Jameson a good job in rad group t  End Syncopators. Ignoring t ecoppers and tail coats  End Bluesquot; (plus need to top ty.

    tesque in grey toppers and none more grotesque t till made money.

    Making money,  day after day spent in a converted Green Line bus travelling up and dory from one one-nigand to t. It meant dates at corn exco constant bone-ant cas and t. tion.

    quot;trad boom aint going to last for ever, so lets enjoy it!quot; said Len Nelson, ttist.

    or, rad boom o lure star-struck young girls from ts up into el bedroom and te o a lesser extent, ted.

    Except, of course, Jameson, ice t trad o play.  it y of t offend Lola.

    One nigo play at a small toes of East Anglia. Darkness came ernoon, dragging mist  to fill traigurn or dip and w wo perform was .

    quot;Are ting us?quot; asked Dave Jennings, t a lighe pub.

    A frayed poster pinned to t tened t t;Friday nig -- ing,  parade  End Syncopatorsquot;  indecipherable.

    quot;ell, its not opening time, yet,quot; comforted Len Nelson.

    quot;Mores ty,quot; grunted Jennings.

    quot;Of course ting us,quot; said Geoff firmly. quot;ts e in t it, Simeon?quot;

    tetic Jeenor sax man  of nostalgia for aring at t, frightened eyes.

    quot;I dont like it ; ;t;

    quot;Bloody lot of  in t; grumbled Nelson. quot;Bet t .quot;

    quot;Dont come terious East,quot; Geoff urge