for the longest time i figured writing love songs was some sort of cop out, but now i’m thinking there surely must be a reason why our world is flooded with them… maybe this is who we are. in spite of our greed and war mongering, perhaps deep down we’re loving creatures, or at least would want to be…i dunno…. it’s been a long time since i wrote one….. i hope you like it.
just one of our many fine young upstanding citizens.. mindful of personal hygiene and good posture.. therefore less likely to accrue severe backache or a nasty skin disease later on in life.
with proper posture you can stand on your feet for longer periods of time. clothes will hang as the tailor cut them. your spine won’t compress leaving you with lesser inches to your name.. your unsqueezed organs will keep constipation at bay.. you’ll simply be aligning yourself for a better sex life and all round good luck. in the words of our late great shaman val doonican.. “walk tall.. walk straight.. and look the world right in the eye”
did i ever tell you about the time i styled harold melvyn and his blue notes for an album sleeve. well.. the first thing i did was take them over to tony the tailor in soho and have all four men measured up for yellow velvet suits. when it came to the day of the shoot in a rural location somewhere out in hertfordshire i sat quietly on the sidelines to let the photographer get on with his work, but something was not quite right..so i yelled hold it!.. hold the shoot!.. and then minced over to remove their jackets rendering them instantly curvaceous in just trews and double breasted waistcoats.. NOW you could see their nice round arses and big fat cocks practically ripping through the tight yellow velvet… when they got back to philly their manager and record company called me at the same time on one of those conference call thingys from a boardroom to tell me the photographs were vulgar and obscene yet they loved them anyway, especially since it was thrusting the sales of their fabulous long player gramophone record right up into the top ten blues & soul charts worldwide… so you see..as long as the music is there in the first place, sex appeal and good styling does appear to help things on a touch.
at the beginning of last year i posted everyday on wordpress, and then by the time spring came i just drifted outdoors without returning cause good sun had arrived… anyway.. today i’m posting a new song and i hope you like it…ta ta…mary fairy liquid.
one reason i took up photography and started writing short stories up here on wordpress was that it might feed directly back into my main concern which is songwriting. every decade or so i find myself a bit lost.. it’s not a writers block, but the inclination does vanish. it’s not a fun feeling, although the years have taught me not to panic. a good idea is to just go outside and have an ice cream among people and take some pictures… i have found photography to be a great tonic for the making of music.. it opens my eyes to the world around me, offering new images and ideas for lyrics.
when i’m out and about in london with my camera i often look just above street level.. it’s a gas what’s on view if you lift the eyes up toward the first or second floor of the buildings.
here’s hoping you enjoy my new song
as i move through the fair with camera in hand, the compulsion to document homeless folk becomes overwhelming, even if it does send the moral compass into a spin. on one hand it feels intrusive, while on the other, the reality deserves addressing. when i encounter what my camera was born for, i can almost hear the contraption yelling at me to nail these situations, and for a split second i get to feel what it might be like for a photo journalist taking pictures in a war zone where people are anxious or under heavy duress… it’s not fun taking those kind of photographs, but ultimately i’m glad i do. they’re a true record of how life is for many mother’s sons and daughters in this ruthless city. the more it’s discussed, the more of an issue it becomes. black and white photography is particularly good for this. it keeps the essence up front, where colour could be a distraction.
the picture of the lady above gets to me because she’s so beautiful.. she knows she deserves better than this. i love her hair..it reminds me of linda lewis in the 1970’s playing her fender stratocaster singing ‘rock a doodle doo’…what i mean is she looks like she’s got all the potential in the world to be where she’d prefer to be, yet there she is.. in deep water.
and the young girl below asleep in the middle of the day..her clock all upside down…she looks so young…and then below that, the group of fellas where one has retrieved food for the rest..then the man with the dog..the look on that little dog’s face throws me for six. then the final picture of the two young strapping guys who look like they’ve got so much to offer. all these people have, if only given a chance… everybody’s got something to offer.
for a long time i’ve been dreaming about a return to freeform radio.. something loose and less shrill with proper music people spinning records rather than professional personalities, and as i walked past the tiny soho radio station one day last summer, my jaw nearly hit the pavement when i clocked dennis bovell the record producer inside hosting a show. i walked in waving my camera, gesturing that i’d love to take a quick photograph. he was kind and welcoming… looked right into the lens and shook my hand firmly n’all… lovely strong forthright demeanour. it was one of my first outings with an SLR camera so i guess technically it’s not a perfect shot, but dennis surely is.
there are two records of his i adore..the first is the slits version of ‘i heard it through the grapevine’. the other is linton kwesi johnson’s ‘inglan is a bitch’. here it is… a fab groove. even though written very much from a black mans perspective, it hit a nerve with all youth around 1980 when england was one gritty gritty mess.. still is, only in a weirder way now, thanks to brexit bacteria.
my favourite time for london is early week in the early morning during softer weather. emboldened by a knickerbocker glory ice cream sundae, i like to dander up savile row around lunch time to catch the actual cutters standing outside all the famous tailors with their tape measures draped around their shoulders enjoying a crafty fag on the pavement. then at the lower end of the street i head into hauser & wirth or round the corner to the royal academy to enjoy all the mischief of top banana modern art.. beats drugs by a mile.
mary cigarettes 