I think it was 1972. Larry Norman arrived in Scotland to play for the first time, at the militantly traditional, eccentrically evangelical Tent Hall in Glasgow's Saltmarket. It was the moment rock'n'roll in all its glamour, hairiness, colour and American vigour, arrived in the midst of Scottish fundamentalism. Nothing would ever be the same again, not least for me.
Larry died, after a long illness, on Sunday. Some of his songs were stark warnings about the imminent rapture - one now-irritating aspect of his theology he shared, alas, with George Bush (not that their politics were even remotely similar. I hope...) - but others stand as rock classics that both affirm and transcend their religious standpoint. And he was a truly mesmeric, sometimes hilarious performer.
Whatever, for many of us, he changed everything.