Some people remember where they were when they heard that Kennedy had been shot. I remember where I was when I first read the piece about Mod that opens It Gets Me Home, This Curving Track. Sitting in a kitchen in rural New Jersey over Sunday morning coffee and bagels, cradled for half an hour in Ian Penman’s words. The arrival of this book is like the arrival of a new album from Scott Walker or Robert Wyatt: a long-vanished …
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