We Americans had long since gone AOR and Kardashian. But not Barry. No. Barry was still Cobain and all the better for it. Hip, no. Cool. Undoubtedly. Ice-cold.

And his voice. Irish lilt to be sure but I’m talking about the way he spoke. Slow. Thoughtful. Deep. Now here was real knowledge. This guy could read a Mc Donalds menu and make it sound like Proust or Vonnegut.

Some guy for one guy. But he wasn’t a guy- Dude suited him better. It was me who was the guy or the boy.

The first night he arrived he picked up my long since forsaken acoustic guitar and riffed off Cobain, Cohen, Bowie, Buckley. Half of these I didn’t even know but man they sounded good. Hell this guy could have put soul into Abba. He was a musical powerhouse.