Wolf was so sweet to us, I've read stories where people say he was very frightening. He was certainly a very big man with enormous presence. But he was never like that off-stage. That was his stage persona, being scary as hell - he'd lean out into the audience with a scary look in his eye. But in person he was the opposite. We played with him a couple of times in 1964 [when a pre-Small Faces Mac was in The Muleskinners]. The first time was in Reading at the Ricky Tick Club. We got there early and started rehearsing the numbers we thought he might play. Then the doors opened at the end of the hall and there he stood, a giant of a man. Hubert Sumlin [his guitarist] was looking out from behind him, and he was young, maybe only a few years older than us, while the Wolf seemed really old.

We went over to greet him, these little white boys, and he bent down and put his arms around us, and said, 'My boys!' It made us feel it would all be alright, he was really encouraging. We were devoted to the music but we weren't necessarily very good, and I'd hate to hear a recording off the gig. But our enthusiasm and his sweet nature got us through it. It was such a thrill, he could really control the thing. Maybe it would have been more of a shambles if Hubert Sumlin hadn't been there; but I remember the gig was amazing.

He felt appreciated here; I know he was knocked out by all the attention. Wolf was this great, great artist finally getting some recognition. We backed him a couple more times after that, in Chelmsford and in Tottenham. He was gracious and sweet as a nut, and I have this mental image of him being driven around, this huge man, in this tiny Triumph Herald.

We went to the airport to see him off - we were the only ones there. And there they were, Wolf and Hubert, about to fly back to anonymity, and play in some tiny little club. He said, 'I'm gonna get you guys to Chicago, I'm gonna get you to America', and I think he meant it. After the gig at Chelsmford, he had told us, 'We got The Beatles over to America!', and we kind of said, 'OK…' He was sincere but perhaps a little deluded. But saying that, he was quite business minded, and he may have tried to get that together. He put his kids through college, he wasn't a silly man. I'd really like to know more about him.

When we first started finding this music - Wolf, Jimmy Reed and so on - it seemed like we'd unearthed this ancient music. But it was still happening right then, though it was the end of that era. I was touring America in the early '70s, playing Chicago, and I should have tried to find him; he died in 1976. But that music was so raw and honest, and there are no artists around today of the calibre of those people. It's all watered down. Can you imagine seeing Robert Johnson live? The power and the energy! It would have been incredible.

I guarantee there will be a new generation of people getting into blues music. My son really likes this stuff and is aware of all those guys. The saddest thing is that young people can't see these guys live. But I suppose there's still R.L. Burnside and T-Model Ford. Those guys are *unbelievable*. The thing with the blues is: you either get it or you don't. Funnily enough, I met Hubert Sumlin recently at Clifford Antone's [Austin, Texas music impresario] annual birthday bash. A couple of weeks before, a mutual friend had shown Hubert the picture of me in the back of the car with Wolf in the front. Sumlin said, 'Wolf loved that boy! He wanted to take him back to Chicago.' My friend explained that little boy is 58 now! When we met he gave me a huge hug. It was one of those lovely moments.