Chuck Berry

THERE is a bit of a neighbours’ dispute which will need resolving in Shaftesbury Avenue.

You’ll have read in last week’s soaraway Westminster Extra that the plans to get the Saville Theatre open again as a permanent home for the Cirque du Soleil involves expanding higher with a hotel on top.

The beautiful Phoenix Community Garden to the rear fears it will lose its light, making it harder for its wildlife to thrive.

It would be a shame for any development to take away from that little green oasis in the city, so let’s all cross fingers and hope that a way forward can be found that suits all sides.

The garden is great, but so is the idea that one day the Saville will come to life once more. It should be seen as a treasured place, and too often it is overlooked when the musical history of London and the wider country is written about.

In the 1960s it was owned by Brian Epstein, The Beatles’ manager, who brought royalty to the stage.

And if Harrington had a time machine it might zoom back to 1967 just to see what unfolded on the night that Chuck Berry – maybe the greatest of all the rock’n’rollers – took to the stage that year.

The audience actually included The Beatles, who were just as desperate to see Chuck as anybody else.

They had covered his song Rock And Roll Music in their early days. The crooning singer Tom Jones was also in the crowd.

But the clamour for all inside to see Chuck reached a fever pitch.

When the stage manager thought he saw two people leap onto the stage, he flung down the metal theatre curtain. A fuming crowd responded by throwing drinks and ripping out seats.

The trouble continued outside, and the gig was cancelled.

It has been described as a riot.

Of course, the new Saville is unlikely to see a similar frenzy. Acrobats don’t really attract mods and rockers, but what a history that building has.