In a supper club in New York City a few nights ago, a spare figure, rising on great spindly legs like a wading bird, loped on stage barely three-quarters of an hour after his allotted slot.
"Those of you who thought I wouldn't make it, you lose," he grinned. "Those of you who thought I wouldn't be here on time, you break even!"
Newsnight meets Gil Scott-Heron
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