Exactly four week's after Bob Marley dies of cancer I am standing face to face with Peter Tosh in a tiny apartment in North London. Well, that's not strictly true. I am actually standing face to chest with Peter Tosh in a tiny apartment in North London as he looms over me, somewhat menacingly it must be said, stabbing the air with the stub of a pungent spliff and shouting: 'I can make you disappear, you unnerstan'?!'Mindful of the fact that the man towering above me is reputed to be some kind of martial arts expert, I timidly stick to my journalistic convictions and inform him that, no, I'm terribly sorry, but actually I don't understand.
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