The first and third lines of the last stanza are lifted almost verbatim from Howlin’ Wolf (Chester Arthur Burnett) who, for me, represented the epitome of pre-war Mississippi-meets-Chicago blues. Howlin’ Wolf, his 1962 Chess LP, (known as ‘the rocking chair album’ because of its cover art), helped to change the course of my life. It was difficult to imagine completing grammar school, going on to college and ‘getting a job’ after listening to tracks like ‘Wang Dang Doodle’ and ‘Goin’ Down Slow’. By my late teens, as a result of constant practise and heavy consumption of untipped French cigarettes, I found myself capable of a passable imitation of Wolf’s voice. What audiences made of a half-demented, incomprehensible spotty git belting out ‘Smokestack Lightning’ and ‘Evil Is Going On’ in local pubs and clubs is quite another matter.  One landlord told me frankly that, in his opinion, I came close to certifiable madness on stage.  Looking back, I agree with them. I got laid a lot, though! Howlin’ Wolf died in 1976.