Two Pints and a Toccata

Music played quite a large part in our upbringing. My father thought he was the reincarnation of Bach, 'We even look alike' he would say, pointing to the miniature bust of the composer on the window sill. He loved Bach's music so much he learned to play all of it. This involved buying a rather large electric organ (complete with pedals) for the organ works, a harpsichord for Das Wohltemperirte Clavier, and most painfully for the rest of us in the house, a violin for all the sonatas. None of this compared to the piano accordion; the Toccata and Fugue in D minor never sounded quite the same again.

We children grew up clear in the knowledge that we were a disappointment to him, never wanting to sing three part harmonies in the evenings, gathered round the harpsichord. This was his most prized possession, and he was absolutely desperate that people should hear him play. Rather embarrassingly, this literally involved dragging people off the street to come and listen. I remember the milkman being very polite and patient with a ten minute pause in his round to hear, 'The Harmonious Blacksmith' and other favourites. The best music I heard him play was the honky tonk Pinetop Smith and co blues, which did sound pinpoint sharp on a harpsichord.