There was a great programme on the wireless on Saturday about the history of Stax, including of course, your man here 😄 Wonderful how music was free of the barriers in the rest of society then. The white Stax musicians (Cropper et al) were vilified for even entering the studios.
And at this moment, a beautiful song inspired by the end of a period Hammill spent sharing a flat with Susan Penhaligon and Mike (can't remember his name):
We're refugees, walking away from the life That we've known and loved; Nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay; Now we are alone. We're refugees, carrying all we own In brown bags, tied up with string; Nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing, But we'll be happy on our own. West is Mike and Susie; West is where I love, West is refugees' home.