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Norman Wright
“The taxman’s taken all my dough, ” sang The Kinks in June 1966. I had just celebrated my 14th birthday so the oblique dig at Harold Wilson’s Labour Government’s 90 per cent tax on high earners passed over my head.
It was the other more exotic references in Sunny Afternoon that perked my adolescent interest.
Lazing on a sunny afternoon seemed the perfect way to spend time, especially if it involved ice-cold beer and a hint of debauchery. I had never tried either but was quite good at lazing, not just