Side note: it took me many, many years to figure out that the radio DJs were saying Mott the Hoople, and not Martha Hoople
I got lucky, I inherited this Columbia House Record club 4LP compilation of "greatest hits" from '68-'72 (read all sorts of music from bands in our catalogue that we want you to buy after hearing them here) from my older cousin, which contained
All the Young Dudes.
Weird story related to that collection of record he passed me back in '79, one of them was from an even more obscure band, a 70s glam metal outfit called The Godz. Years later I happened to meet a guy, introduced to me as Bob Hill, at an anarchist gathering and we had discussed the 70s Cleveland rock scene for a while (he was also a big fan of Phil Keaggy the guitarist).
After he took off someone asked me how I got along with Bob and I said that it was a lot of fun to talk to someone that knew even more than I did about the 70s hard rock scene and they looked at me and said "You know that he was the guitarist for The Godz, right? He's encyclopedic because he knows all those guys."
I emailed him after to let him know that I had played the album
Nothing is Sacred to death at parties throughout high school and college because
Gotta Muv was one of the greatest drunken sing-along songs ever recorded.
Years later when I found one of my college era writing notebooks I found a bunch of song parodies that I had written (almost all of them drinking related). One of the best was my version of
Reelin' in the Years, which I posted on my Facebook page, which led Bob to summon Elliot Randall to have a look. Which was sort of embarrassing to say the least. When you meet Elliot Randall, even virtually, you want to look cool, not like a philistine that turned one of his most known bits of work into a drinking song.