If you build it, they will come...

Did you miss me while I was away? Did you hang my picture on your wall?
Ok, probably not the best lyrics to resurrect the Blog with, but, hey! the '70's were good to me.

So, here's what I 've been up to: Became a Promoter, played my first proper Solo show in 8 years and sang on stage with Mr Jim Boggia.

Last Tuesday night, I put on an evening of Food and Music at the King Eddie in Stratford. I had always thought that the upstairs room at the "Eddie" was the perfect space for this kind of event ever since I played an open mic night there back in January. It just so happened that my stateside chum, Jim Boggia, was embarking on a tour of Europe and looking for "House Concert" style gigs. So, in a huge "let's put aside all this low self esteem and lack of confidence, Son" moment, I mailed him and told him of my thoughts on the King Eddie. "Go for it" came the reply. I then set about pulling together the arrangements for the evening: who would want to go? would they show up? would Jim and I be eating Gourmet food for the rest of the fall? would I choke? should I fake my Orgasms? Did I say that last one out loud? Sorry...

Well, in truth, the night was a fantastic success, with 29 heads chowing down for the dinner and a further 20 odd folks coming along for the music. From the moment I started my set, it just felt right and all those nerves and worries melted away. Here I was, in front of 50 plus folks, singing a bunch of songs which had taken me a lifetime and one year to write and finally realising that its' only gonna happen if you make it happen. It's hard to describe the rest of the night really, as I just closed my eyes and lost myself in what I can only describe as "the moment I 've been waiting for all my life". Without sounding like a born again christian ("No' I'm Brian!"), it was probably the most spiritual moment I have ever encountered. Before I knew it, I was duetting with Jim on The Faces "ooh la la"(a song I used to sing to my son as a nursery rhyme) and actually dedicating it to my Son who was in the audience. No.1 Son is a massive Jim Boggia fan and, for the rest of my days, I will remember his face lighting up as he watched Jim singing with his dad.

As the evening progressed, my friend Jim absolutely blew the crowd away with his set and took the night home with great style and aplomb. Everybody left with a smile on their face and maybe a Boggia cd or two in their pocket, as well. And, as for me, well, let's just say that for the first time ever, I didn't feel out of place on the bill.

It's good to be back...

As You Like It

As a belated Xmas gift from Mrs Terry, we attended "As You Like It" at The Globe Theatre on Saturday evening. The good lady Wife has been there before with her girlfriends, but, I was a Globe Virgin, so to speak. Now, having listened to various opinions of the re-creation of Will's Crib, I was a little wary of a "Disney does Shakespeare" environment. Fear not, my friends, for I shall report nothing, but, good news. The place is beautifully situated on the banks of the Thames (even though it is on the South side, we can forgive them that one indiscretion), with a wonderful view of St. Pauls on the opposite bank. Fast Forward to the play itself and the theatre manages to make you feel that you are part of the performance, even more so when the actors are to be found walking through the audience or perched upon a ledge in the stalls. Thea Sharrock's adaptation is perfectly paced and never has you looking away from the stage for a second. Obviously, having the Bard as the source material gets you off to a flyer, but, all the same the play is handled with great warmth and affection. Even if you are not a fan of Will's works, you will be drawn in by the actors and how they manage to flood the stage with both humour and sheer joy.

So, do yourself a favour and treat your loved one(s) to a Ticket. You will be in the good books for some time to come, I promise thee.

On Quoting Shakespeare by Bernard Levin

If you cannot understand my argument, and declare ``It's Greek to me'', you are quoting Shakespeare; if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you recall your salad days, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you act more in sorrow than in anger; if your wish is farther to the thought; if your lost property has vanished into thin air, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy, if you have played fast and loose, if you have been tongue-tied, a tower of strength, hoodwinked or in a pickle, if you have knitted your brows, made a virtue of necessity, insisted on fair play, slept not one wink, stood on ceremony, danced attendance (on your lord and master), laughed yourself into stitches, had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing, if you have seen better days or lived in a fool's paradise -why, be that as it may, the more fool you , for it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting Shakespeare; if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage, if you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it, if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood, if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play, if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason, then - to give the devil his due - if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare; even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing, if you wish I was dead as a door-nail, if you think I am an eyesore, a laughing stock, the devil incarnate, a stony-hearted villain, bloody-minded or a blinking idiot, then - by Jove! O Lord! Tut tut! For goodness' sake! What the dickens! But me no buts! - it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.

Bernard Levin

Dear Diary

Looking through some old boxes in the cellar, I came across an old notebook that I had used as a diary, come ideas sketch pad throughout my travels around this island, Earth. I must have gone through one of my "Year Zero" phases at some stage, as there are only two entries left in it, the rest obviously having been dispatched to various waste bins around the globe. Only one of the remaining items is a complete piece, the other being two lines for a song which never made it out of the starting blocks. So, here below, in all it's glory, are my random thoughts and observations made during a trip to New York, Circa 2000, and will give you a glimpse of exactly where my head was at, back then (Man! ~ Counter Culture Ed.).

"There are times when you realise this was not meant to be your day. The street you walk down singles you out as clearly as if you had a neon sign on your head saying "I do not live here, but, I am desperately trying to blend into the background".


"On West 18th Street, a construction worker is wearing exactly the same T-shirt as you. The same T-shirt that you bought last year and thought that you looked so cool in. These are warnings. These are signs that you no longer exude the coolness that comes so naturally, even automatically, with youth. Old passport photos are like sharp sticks prodding your, now plump, body, reminding you that the chances of ever looking that good again are very slim, indeed".


"There are days when you look around and there is not a single person nearby who knows anything about you".

"Sitting outside the Dakota building, thinking about Lennon and singing "In my Life" in your head. A stranger asks to borrow your pen and you feel the moment slip away, almost as if you had never even heard of four lads who shook the world. Then, you are swallowed up in the ceaseless throng of traffic and honking cabs and cold, emotionless faces behind dirty windscreens". Sanitation" reads the sign on the truck, but, you can't help feeling that a little "Salvation" wouldn't go amiss here?"


"The pretty girl on the mobile phone has a smile that can surely travel through the airwaves and, just for a second, you wish that it was you on the other end of the line. Happiness is a Warm Phone".


Obviously, my old pal, low self esteem, was along for ride on that trip. Going forward, the little shit can book his own damn flight...

Island Hoppin'

A very good article on Island Records in Mojo this month and it reminded me of my early introduction into Psychedelia via the majestic "Mr Fantasy" album by Traffic. I was about 14, an aspiring Mod and fellow Mod, Cornelius Bowen, gave me a pair of cream, pin striped, Hipster pants (Nice! ~ Fashion Ed), along with a copy of the "Mr Fantasy" record. I was aiming for a kind of Eddie Phillips from "The Creation" look , but, said Hipster's made me look more like Lou Diamond Phillips and, alas, have long been consigned to fashion faux pas dustbin. Stevie Winwood and his pastoral rock troupe, however, have been with me ever since.

Subconsciously, I already seemed to be aware of Traffic via "Hole in my Shoe", perhaps, from Ed "Stewpot" Stewart's Saturday morning kids radio show, but, when I placed the needle on the groove and "No Face, No Name, No Number" came on, it sounded like an Angel's lament. The next track, "Dear Mr. Fantasy", was like being hit in the head with a shovel, only to find the "Spear and Jackson" held firmly in the grasp of the previously mention cherubic one. Whenever I play the track I still get that exact same feeling. Like any great record, discovered retrospectively, it made me plunder their back catalogue and from the early pop/psychedelic crossovers of "Paper Sun" and "Here We Go 'Round the Mulberry Bush" right up to the title track on "When the Eagle Flies". It was, and still is, a fantastic musical journey and the fact that they were on Island Records, was the icing on the cake. I found my way towards John Martyn, Nick Drake, Free and Bob Marley, just to name, but, a few.

I finally got to see Stevie Winwood last year at the Scala in Kings Cross, and although, his pipes are still in tip-top working order, he was backed by a hideous jazz-fusion type band and I left the gig feeling somewhat deflated. following the 2005 death of Jim Capaldi, in January 2007, there was an all-star benefit gig at The Roundhouse, titled "Dear Mr. Fantasy", and featured Stevie, Weller, Townsend and a host of others, but, at £160 per ticket, I'd have wanted them to play in my f*cking living room for that!

Jim'll Fix It

Today, as they say, was a good day. After months of anxiously awaiting the mailman's footsteps (well, FTP file sharing, but, Hey, allow me the poetic licence), my Hoxton Song finally arrived back from across the pond, complete with magic Jim Boggia fairy dust sprinkled liberally, and I do mean, liberally all over it. The results, as far as I am concerned, are mind blowing. Any musicians out there who have ever recorded their own songs will know that they never seem to sound quite like they do in your head. Well, as of today and a LOT of help from Mr Boggia, I have finally achieved that "Wall of Sound" that I always heard in my head.

Of all the musicians that I have worked with over the years, and this is not a slight against any of them, none really seemed completely tuned into my frequency (Nice! ~ EQ Editor). With "The Boggia", however, it's a whole different ball game. It's akin to being able to dial in Radio Beatles at any point in your song; McCartney-esque Bass guitar = Check! "Your Mother should know" style backing vocals = Check! All in all, absolute Hog Heaven for a Fab Four freak like me.

As usual, you can check it out here or here. There's only one problem having a stellar talent like Jim play on your record; how do you ensure the rest of the tracks stand up tall alongside his one? We'll just have to wait and see on that one...

Miss Dey in Roots

Just when I had contemplated laying the pen to rest, who should pop her pretty little face around the google corner, but, little ol' Susan Dey of The Partidge Family fame. For men of a certain age, Susan was "The" Girl. Not me, obviously, as I was too young and have only discovered her retrospectively, (B*ll*cks ~ Truth Editor). She was pretty hot beyond belief, she was in a band and she had a smile that could stop a nuclear bomb; Yowsa and, indeed, Yowsa! Back then, Kids TV was wholesome entertainment and you had to go to BBC2 for anything remotely subversive. It's not me donning the Rosey goggles either, you all watched the same programs together; whether they were shite or not! I always had a dream (not that kind of dream, you pervs!) that Suzy and I would record a duet and have a worldwide No.1 smash hit; I believe that ship may have sailed.

I guess the modern day equivalent to Suzy is Hannah Montana; don't get me f*ckin' started...

We are not a-Mused

She's gone, She's gone. My beautiful muse has deserted me. I have looked everywhere, but, my woman done left me. I have hit the blogging equivalent of writer's block; Blogger's Nipple, anyone?

Do I blame it on the February Blog Olympics? Did I peak too soon? Who knows? Whatever, it is has upped sticks and vanished. Where do I go from here: Twitter? Twatter is a very lonely place, my friend(s). When you look back at your Blogs, you do get a sense of accomplishment, a finished product as it were. As for Twatter, it has more in common with Haiku than Blogging - random thoughts that do not really require an answer or a response. Now, I am no prolific Blogger, but, even the 1 or 2 comments that do get left from time to time on my pages, do give me a sense of connection with the reader. Perhaps Twizzler isn't for me - we'll see.

If, on your travels, you happen to see a beautiful girl who fills you with a sudden urge to write all your thoughts down , you know where to send her...