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taking time to check the dial

This is the 3rd and final installment of the Fan Club - Fantasy Ring Booklet. This issue was produced in September 1977, with many of the fans from the 70's contributing to it with poems, drawings and stories. Cat himself contributed two drawings in this issue as well. Not to mention there are a few rare photographs of Cat, which I have never seen before. Please enjoy this Fantasy Ring. Majicat would like to once again give a big hand to our anonymous contributor for supplying these wonderful magazine to place on Majicat for everyone to view..   The Photographers represented in this book are: Terry O'Neil John Paul Laurens van Houten Peter Simon   1977 Volume 3   page 1 & 2 September 1977 Hello, Well, after hours of pouring over all your contributions, here is the final selection! Thank you all for sending in the poems, pictures and stories. They have all been very much appreciated and I am sorry that we are, after all, only able to use so few. But keep sending them in as we like to have plenty to choose from each time the Fantasy Ring Book is due to be published. I’m sorry if it seems a long time to wait for each one—believe it or not we have been working on this since March! First of all we get everything together, then we all decide what should be included—always difficult, that, as there is so much we would like to put in. Then we have to have up to date photographs of Steve, then we have to try to get Steve to find five minutes to do something of his own to give it an extra special touch.., and now it's September and we are still working on it! This time we are having a ‘nameless’ Fantasy Ring Book, just for a change. Steve illustrated ‘Reflections (1) and "Bird in Flight," and chose the photos of himself that he thought you’d like to see. He also had all the ideas for the centre page news spread. He wanted to do more but is so busy with work that there just wasn’t time. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll appreciate his efforts. Thank you all very much for your letters throughout the past few months. I am sorry that I can’t reply in as much detail as I would like to and in the way that the letters deserve, but it really would take much too long! Your news is always very welcome and read with interest, so do keep on writing. By the time this finally ‘hatched’ by the printers, you will probably have had your summer holidays — I’ve done a personal summer view of London on the back page to give you an idea of another city— hope you like it. Very best wishes to all of you and good luck! Gillian  Fantasy Ring Secretary page 3 & 4 A THEORY TALE Cat Stevens was born on 2lstJuIy 1948 in London. The youngest of three children, he was christened Steven Demetre Georgiou. Together with his brother David and his sister Anita, he lived above his parents’ restaurant, "The Moulin Rouge," just around the corner from the British Museum. His mother’s Swedish, his father Cypriot. His real dream was to become a famous painter like his Uncle Hugo in Sweden. He spent most of his time drawing cartoons and building little guillotines late into the night. When he was 10 years old, he first heard Laurie London’s version of ‘He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands" and decided (with the help of his brother) that stardom was his destiny. That idea was quite short lived. It took another 4years before he thought about it again. At that time an African musical, ’King Kong," had opened at the Shaftesbury Theatre opposite his father’s restaurant. He got to know the cast and was always found hanging about the stage door. When he was 15, his nights were spent knocking around Soho, roaming between clubs and back-street alley bars. Around that time, his father had given him enough money to buy his first guitar. Leaving school at 16, he was lucky enough to find a space at Hammersmith Art School. Folk music began to influence him, and he was spending most of his day practicing Leadbelly licks on the stairs. The Art School dismissed him. For a year, he haunted publishing houses and agents, until he managed to bump into Mike Hurst, who had a friend with enough faith and spare cash to back his first single "I Love My Dog." In the first pop phase of his remarkable career he became rich, a phenomenal success and while still in his teens, he had to face up to the complex pressures experienced as a result. Then an unexpected tragedy bundled him out of the limelight. He caught Tuberculosis and spent a year recuperating from the illness. But enforced layoff gave him the space he needed to evolve and develop what was to become a unique style. He began to write the songs for Mona Bone Jakon. This was followed by the release of Tea For The Tillerman and Cat Stevens was established as one of the leading lyrical forces of his time. He epitomized the Gentle Thinking Man who has touched the child in all of us. Today he talks with the fervour of someone who has been through fire to find his identity.   page 5 & 6   LOOK AT ME The sophisticated bearded fello, in an English banker’s clothes. Watch strapped tightly to his arm, Ask the time, he knows.   Run on down to the bus stop, Faster than his second hand. What is it that fills all his free time, But the tales, that cannot stand.   When he loved me, the gloomy disco shone with sun. His eyes speaking, said I’d be the only one, Forever. When they spoke. A curiou on my shelf was he. Precious and lovingly   Look at me, What, in my eyes, did you see. This lady loved you. Free. You’re not the hard, cold man you try to be.       INTO YOUR HEART   Into your house, Small pebbles in a pond. Gardens In Japan. A few small stairs into your house   Into your room, Worlds of white around me, And one are we, Into your room.   Into your heart, Moonchildren in love. One are we, I long for us to be, To let me into your heart. page 7 & 8 Reflections (1) Come taste the wine And with your hand in mine Come catch the rainbow. In the meadow bright with flowers We’ll tread the grass Through all the shadows, And pass into the house   Going Home There were a few stars left in the early morning sky, blinking wanly as they slowly disappeared from view. The peace of the still-sleeping glade was disturbed by the frantic hum emanating from a large spherical object hovering above the forest. With a convulsive shudder, the object dipped and spun, crashing heavily to earth in a cloud of dust. Frightened birds burst in nervous song as they flew to safety. Two forms lay still on the cool grass amid the twisted wreckage yards apart, where the impact had thrown them. Morning turned to afternoon, sunlight playing on the unmoving forms, dancing through the leaves and forming shadows as the small animals curiously studied the objects which had fallen from the sky He awoke in a daze, trying to remember what had happened and where he was. As his mind cleared, he looked about him, getting his bearings and surveying the destruction. Suddenly he saw a shape coming toward him and he jumped to his feet. He gazed upon her as she walked through the trees, marvelling again at her beauty. As she reached his side, she read the love in his eyes and raised his hand to her lips. They stood together in silence, their heads turned upward. They wore suits with a metallic sheen. Her long golden hair glinted in the sunlight, framing her small oval face. It contrasted his close-cropped dark hair, which accentuated his fine features. Both were lithe and moved easily over uneven ground, following a barely discernible path. The quiet was unbroken but for their muted footsteps as they made their way on the carpet of leaves strewn about the forest floor. They walked for hours, each lost in their own thoughts until they came to a circular clearing. She looked up at him with trust in her eyes as her hand enclosed the shimmering disc suspended on the chain which encircled her throat. She motioned to him that she was ready, and he clasped the companion disc he wore. By unspoken assent they pressed the crystal pyramid in the centre of the discs and they instantly vanished into nothingness. page 9 & 10 FEATHERS & BONES An In-Depth Inverview with Cat Stevens by Fox Harris The directions were complicated to say the least. I was to turn right after I saw in the sky a gleam of white horses. It took four hours for me just to turn right. I was nor, in the land of Free Love & Goodbye Goodbyes echoed all around me and those who weren’t saying goodbye were engaged. I was to find the Home Where All Mums Can Sing. I heard singing from a Silver Pagoda surrounded by 100 and 8 clouds. I approached. I knocked. I entered. Magic tricks were performed for me. Banapple Gas given to me and then he approached in Karate pants, bare feet, a Dunhill cigarette in his mouth, bare-chested but wearing a vest, a gold chain around his neck. I sat. I sat and here is what followed: FOX: Now Cat, can you tell us what exactly you’re trying to say in your music? CAT: I’ve gotta show the world, worlds got to see. See all the love, love that’s in me. FOX: And do you think you are succeeding? CAT: Oh I’m on my way I know I am. FOX: I see (cough). It certainly has helped your record sales, wouldn’t you say? CAT: Well, I think I found a way to help make myself richer. FOX: Y’know, you’ve developed into one of the most original and personal artists of the Seventies. CAT: Yes I’m being followed by a moonshadow. FOX: Moonshadow? CAT: Moonshadow—moonshadow. FOX: I see. I’ve read, Cat, that you once had had a bad bout with TB but that you’ve completely recovered, and due to this you’ve had time to discover the spiritual question inside yourself. Is that correct? CAT: All I know is alt I feel right now. I feel the power growing in my hair. FOX: Your father is Greek, your mother Swedish. Strange combination. What sort of childhood did you have? CAT: They brang us up. FOX: How fascinating, and was there any one thing that influenced your early life? CAT: Mary dropped her pants by the sand, and let a parson come and take her hand. FOX. Yes. Well (cough). Your songs seem to encompass many subjects, from love to father and son relationships to world conditions. World conditions seem to be fairly had right now. What do you think? CAT: wo wo FOX: Uh, could you elaborate? CAT: Well I know we’ve come a long way, we’re changing day to day, but tell me, where d’ th’ ch’ldr’n play? FOX: Do you think there is a solution? What do you think we can do to change these conditons? CAT: Take a look at the world Think about how it will end There’d be no wars in the world If everybody joined in the band Think about the light in your eyes Think about what you should know There’d be no wars in the world If everybody joined in the show. Oh Oh. FOX: That’s a very nice thought, I must say. But, to change the subject: are you yourself at this minute searching for anything new in your life? CAT: I’m looking for a hard headed woman. One who will take me for myself. FOX: Finding the right person, especially in your position. I imagine that could be a rather hard goal to achieve. CAT: I know a lot of fancy dancers. FOX: hmmm, yes. At any rate, you’re now about to release your eighth album? CAT: Oh I can’t keep it in. Can’t keep in in. Oh. FOX: Mona Bone Jakon, Tea For The Tillerman, Teaser And The Firecate, Catch Bull At Four, Foreigner Buddha and the Chocolate Box, Cat Stevens Greatest Hits, and now Numbers. CAT: Oh but the song carries on -so holy. FOX: Of course, well, How do you feel about your new album, Numbers? CAT: New music, music, new music. FOX: I see, Well, Cat, our time seems to be running out. Do you have any advice for aspiring musicians? CAT: Stay close to your friends up until the end And when they know that you feel the same way Rise up and be free and die happily And in this way you will awake. FOX: Well, it’s been really rice talking to you. CAT: Don’t think too long. (And as the sun set on his quiet Brazilian hideaway, he got up , went to the door, turned slowly and looking directly at me , he said .) Jus’ call me Jzero page 11 & 12 page 13 & 14   STEVE’S NEWS Steve is at the moment busy producing the Album for his brother David’s Musical. The Album, which is in its final stages, should be released early next year. "Child For A Day," one of the songs on ‘Izitso’ is taken from the musical. The stage show of the musical should be presented alongside the album in London or New York City details of which we will let you have as soon as possible. ** * * * * **   By the end of the year Steve is hoping to start recording another album for release Spring/Summer of 1978. He has recently spent some time in Brazil writing songs for this forthcoming album. * ** * * ** *** ** As always, Steve is thinking about touring. He knows how popular these tours are, but it does involve a tremendous amount of time and energy, and as you can see from the first tvvo items, Steve is using up quite a lot of both of these in, other directions. Anyway, as soon as we have any news we will pass it on to you. ** * ** * ** * page 15 & 16   BIRD IN FLIGHT Looking back I see the love that I missed Looking back I see the Iife that I passed. It’s not that I knew, It’s not that I cared, It’s just that I didn’t try   Going to take a train far away, Going to take it so I can start again. Now I can feel what its like To be a bird in flight, Having a soul of light.   Thru the clouds there’s always a sun, Gonna float there high above, Now I’m gonna feel, Now I’m gonna see What I’ve been keeping from me. Now I can feel what it’s like, To be a bird in fight, Having a soul   LIGHT The freshly born child’s blushing face creasing with pain, its eyelids screwing tightly against the dazzling brightness. Light hurts. The woman’s scarred, swollen leg stinging and throbbing, the blisters weeping uncontrollably Light burns. The elegant, beautifully hand-woven carpet lying in full splendour upon the varnished teak floor is checked by pale, bleached patches. Light stains. The shimmering bronze tan of the golden and curly-haired Californian beach-boy inviting admiring glances of any age and either sex. Light intrigues. The unconscious, accident-prone teenager fighting off the black faces of evil, muttering repeatedly in the dark, coma-clad nightmare, striving to regain life. Light revives. What is a world without light? page 17 & 18 RAIN Oh rain, look what you’ve done look at the people, they are crying why’ve you taken the place from the sun now the flowers dying   This summertime you made the field wet by your sweat Made the birds all drowned in the heavens sound droppin’ on the ground   Oh rain, look what you’ve done you have destroyed our summer so, you manners are out on the run you made the sun to slumber.     SADNESS   Closing the door of patterned wood to my room of seemed loneliness Where is the friend, where is the wind of feeling good Lay me down on the ground Sour people hanging around my head shouting, making fuss Will it bring me pain of dead Oh sadness...get away from me.   Listen to the music, great and soft through my brain filled with problems Wishing I, running through the wild green croft With me head in a band Crying flowers trembling around my knees dying, loosing health Will I bring them living breeze Oh sadness.. get away from me page 19 & 20 WAR There were trees, before the war, Green in spring, in autumn Leaves of red and gold Carpeted the earth, Crackled underfoot.   In winter, They were bare. Branches lifted To skies of grey. There were glades Where water ran, clear and deep— In retrospect Bittersweet.   We were young, before the war. So young we did not doubt Man’s humanity ‘Let’s live anew in love and trust’— Foolish words Or ignorance.   They wanted power, before the war, And got it too, with bombs — Annihilation Of all that laughed and loved, Was free. Nothing left but Barreness.   And we who are left, What now for us? We have not heart nor hope nor strength To build another Brave, New World. page 21 & 22   THE ONE THAT I  LOVE Friendship is one thing Love is another, I cannot express the feelings We had for each other. Why did it have to end, The good times we had, Can’t we remain just good friends? I thought so once Earlier on in the month. I love you more than words can express, Why did you have to get in this mess? I tried to talk to you, But you wouldn’t listen, You just lay there And your eyes glistened. Will you ever recover From your foolish act? I still love you, And that’s a fact. WORLDS APART Another world, another time perhaps, we’ll meet again And talk, and walk along the shore, and say How soon it passed, and others came and Walked and talked where we had been.   For now will be then, and to- morrow an age away, And time and stars are fused in one expanse Of blue and endless space. And each Life of ours is one expression, and each Expression is no more than an atom Hurtling outwards in the Universe.   And what does it matter that to-day I laugh, And, say, what does it matter to-morrow That I cry? For almost while I laugh And cry I am forgotten, and the brief breath I breathe is already drawn by another—also passing by— A drop of the spray of the wave of the roller of the tide of the ocean. Beating endlessly along the cliffs. page 23 & 24   LONDON SUMMER   Crowded pavements—all colours of hair, skin and clothes. Familiar languages, strange languages. Hot. Windy Now cool again.Then scorching. Parks full, children, prams, dogs.Crying. Angry voices arguing. Laughter. Love-makers under the trees. Squirrels hoping you will give them nuts. Bikinis. Rolled up trousers. Bare shoulders—pink, sun- burned shoulders. Open air theatres, Scottish dancing in the park. Pop music coming out of dozens of shops selling jeans, cheese cloth, sandals. Queues... and more queues. Travellers’ cheques being cashed in the banks. Foreign currency being exchanged in the banks. Buses full. Nice conductors, bad-tempered conductors. Sight seeing parties. Suitcases, rucksacks. Tramps sleeping on park benches. Students sleeping on the pavement. Ice creams. Lifter (too much lifter!) Traffic jams. Noise. Try not to think about all the pollution in a city Try hard not to rush around just because everyone else is. Jubilee everywhere. Mugs, T-shirts, Union Jacks. Sticky Tube trains. Dusty street corners. July sales. Bargains. Holiday brochures. Maps. Ambulance sirens. Fire engine jangles. Warm, rose-scented nights. Open windows with curtains blowing. Strawberries. Sudden rain. Plastic macs, cool feet. More sun. Cafe tables on the pavement. Long drinks. And on and on... with just the occasional sniff of autumn in the air!     page 25 & 26   Fantasy Ring Volume I Fantasy Ring Volume II Pause Fan Club Magazine