Nick Broomfield’s new documentary recounts the life and death of one of rock’s most tragic characters. The film-maker and others who knew him talk about the roots of his recklessness in an emotionally arid childhood
In 1963, when he was 14 years old, Nick Broomfield briefly crossed paths with Brian Jones. “We were on the same train. I was travelling to school and he was going back to Cheltenham, where he grew up,” recalls the documentary-maker 60 years later. “He was sitting all alone in a first-class compartment. I just tapped on the door and, with some temerity, introduced myself.”
Jones, who was on the cusp of pop stardom with the Rolling Stones, the group he had formed the previous year, turned out to be warm and charming, chatting with the eager young fan for several minutes. “I was surprised at how friendly he was,” Broomfield recalls. “We chatted about trains, mainly. He told me that he loved trains and the line we were travelling on – the Great Western – was his favourite. I just remember thinking how very middle-class, well spoken, polite and accommodating he was.”
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