Charlie Gillett was a pathologically honest gent in a business full of self deluded con-men, hustlers and crooks. For thirty five years he was the sternest critic and most encouraging supporter of the compulsive scribbler and reluctant performer behind these songs. He didn’t like all my stuff but he liked It Takes A Woman, and when I told him that each of its 3 verses was about a different man of my acquaintance, he said he wouldn’t tell me which one he thought was about him. So I didn’t tell him which one was about me. When he died I knew the music career he’d always urged me to pursue was finally over.