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It’s the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings.

There is nothing I can add to the sincere tributes paid by people more eminent than me about the bravery, heroism and sacrifices of those who took part. But this anniversary has made me look at rock’n’roll in a very different way. This fantastic record, and others like it, hit the charts just 12 years after D-Day. I’ve always loved 1950s rock’n’roll, always wished I’d been one of the original teenagers who experienced that unprecedented whirlwind of excitement. But I now have great sympathy for the preceding generation, the old “fuddy-duddies” still only in their thirties but so easy to deride. As teenagers, they’d been through the war – they’d had enough terrifying, horrifying “excitement” to last them a lifetime. They’d fought for freedom, they’d fought for peace. Little Richard must have been the very last thing they wanted.

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