The kids were very conscious of the musicianship of those bands.

We liked the Yardbirds because they had the best guitarist. The first 45 rpm single I bought was "Heart Full of Soul". That was Jeff Beck's Stratocaster impersonating George Harrison's sitar. I still have it.

We liked the Rolling Stones because they had the best drummer. My second single was "Get Off of My Cloud", with the menacing sleeve photo of the five scruffy take-no-prisoners types. Scary. Charlie Watts: huge.

We liked the Beatles for their songwriting. My next singles were "Help!", "Yesterday", "Day Tripper", and "Paperback Writer". Some of these were eventually stolen, either by an ex-roommate or her fratboy college friends.

"Wild Thing", "You Really Got Me", "Here Comes the Night", "Satisfaction", "Catch Us if You Can", "Hang on Sloopy", "Keep on Dancin'", "Like a Rolling Stone", "Wooly Bully", "Dirty Water".

I had a tiny GE transistor radio which I loved to smell. Metal, electricity, printed circuit board. I can still smell it in memory.

That was me, in front of the old University Theater, radio in hand, staring transfixed at the posters advertising Help! It was 1965 and I was seven years old.