"This paranoia's gonna be the death of me," sings angel-voiced "Moston Shit-Kicker" Lee Griffifhs. "Putting two and two together always making five."

The penultimate time I met Lee was at a party at Tom Robinson's house. Lee, a member of Tom's band, was there with his girlfriend. I was innocently chewing the fat with him in the kitchen.

"When did you first realise you could really sing?" I asked him, bowled over by The Beatles/Motown medley he'd just hypnotised the party with; I was perhaps a little talent-struck. Suddenly, seeming shifty and panic-stricken, the hard man bolted. Though puzzled, I didn't think too much of it. The weed had been very strong. However, there was more going on than a little dope psychosis. He was locked in his own paranoid world. He thought I was talking in code about the one secret he was hiding successfully from everyone but himself. Even Tom Robinson, the Godfather of Gay Rock and long-time Lee supporter, hadn't clicked that Lee was gay. It was the last thing on my mind.

The next party at Tom's, some 19 months later, I found Lee in Tom's music room. He leapt from his chair and threw his arms around me, temporarily knocking me off balance, both physically and mentally. Seems he'd come out. Blimey.

Words by
Joseph Galliano