A witty rock'n'roll friend from Tucson, Arizona, has written to me suggesting that I might submit my CV in connection with a vacancy that has arisen in the Rolling Stones. "You have that jazz background. And you’re in their age group," he observes.
In fact, I'm not quite that old... yet. And I can't say that the post appeals – even if it were on offer.
No one can really fill Charlie Watts's drumming shoes. Not because he was the "ultimate" or the "greatest" drummer, as the media and various tribute-givers would have us believe – but because he was the perfect man for the job.
Perfect, because he was happy to have a back seat and just take care of the business that was required.
That's not to denigrate his talents. But those saying what a brilliant drummer he was are really saying that he knew his place – i.e. keeping time and nothing too fancy.
He wasn't Ginger Baker or Keith Moon or Buddy Rich or Gene Krupa – genius drummers who actually defined and directed the bands that they played in. That's why the Stones will roll on and still sound pretty much the same.
Charlie Watts was a solid drummer who knew what he was there to do and did it. He also seems to have been a truly decent bloke. And in the world of rock'n'roll that counts for a lot.