Not rock, but quite rock and roll nonetheless. Howard Marks, the most famous drug smuggler of all time, was now on the gig circuit. I was curious to see what all the fuss was about, and seeing as he was doing 5 sell out nights at the Empire, I guessed he must have been a reasonably big deal. It was really nothing more than a glorified book reading though, with added smoking. He sat in a comfy chair on the stage and read excerpts from Mr Nice, in between lugs on the massive floor-standing bong next to him. He was entertaining though – he’s an engaging personality and his rich lilting voice bears more than a passing resemblance to Richard Burton, but at the end of the day he was just reading stuff out of a book.
The Q+A afterwards was better, if a little predictable. i.e. “hur hur Howard what’s the best shit you ever smoked then Howard hur hur”