EDITORIAL REVIEWS
The reason for this was that nothing had been rehearsed and there were no parts, no agreed tempo or key, rarely even a discussion about the general mood. The count in was simply a starter's pistol, giving an impression of organised momentum, it had the added benefit of ensuring no one was left playing nakedly, alone, while the others mulled over when and how to join in. When Laughing Hands played, whether in front of an audience or at one of our regular domestic sessions, the performance was entirely improvised. We had no more idea of what would emerge than the audience. Sometimes it gelled beautifully, and we'd be thrilled and amazed by what had emerged, gleefully reviewing the tapes as soon as we could. Sometimes that hoped-for connection between us stubbornly refused to establish itself. Sometimes a session that felt electric was completely underwhelming when reviewed on tape. There was no possibility whatever that a performance might be reproduced, and we knew this well enough not to try.This was also why we made it an absolute rule to record every session meticulously whether it be on a cheap cassette player or, as later, on quarter inch reel to reel tape.