Blogging all about Hitchin

I definitely have a passion for Hitchin and the people in it. I managed to do nothing today, except write a blog about the potential reduction in the speed limit through the town. It stirred up some nice discussions, though.

Read my blog on The Best of Hitchin

Knew I'd suffer for it, but good to see friends today

Spontaneous lunch and afternoon tea with Malcolm and Sunny made the pain following my gig bearable. Just.

First gig in weeks!

Terrible photo. Great gig. Shocking pain afterwards.

Joshua Tree 1951 - The James Dean story

I actually can't wait to watch this film. I picked up a few films to screen this weekend and can't wait to get going. This one on James Dean strikes me as particularly interesting. Review to follow.

Admitting defeat - my shoulder hurts

It's been 10 weeks since I fractured my shoulder and the car crash was nine weeks before that. A visit to the physio and a telephone conversation with my GP today made me realise that I've caused some serious damage to my body and it's not getting mended any time soon.

I'm doing too much still and trying to live my life normally when I've got about 10% movement in my left shoulder, plus residual rib damage and spine pain. It's not about feeling sorry for myself, but I do need to cut myself some slack. Time to admit that I'm in pain and go back onto the stronger painkillers in the hope that I will mend soon.

Good Friday's gig was a target for me and I was hoping that I'd be feeling fine by now, but I'm really not. Just have to get through it and stay positive.

"I don't want to belong to any club that will accept people like me as a member."

Great Groucho Marx quote and one I couldn't help reflecting on this evening.

I went to probably the most boring event I have EVER attended. I won't go into detail, but as a member of the organisation running it, I was ashamed. Networking with fellow professionals was my main reason for attending, but I couldn't bring myself to admit taht I was part of the 'club'.

Sometimes, you just have to move on and admit that some groups of people are not right for you.

Two great brands, working together

This was nowhere near the easiest story to write and have approved, but it's a great indication of what I do - talking to people who work together and identifying why the relationship works.

Both Royal Mail and Dyson are fantastic British brands and it was a pleasure to talk to a variety of people involved in the relationship to get this story written. It took a while and I could have written three or four times as much, but that's never part of the brief. It's always good when people work well together and consumers benefit.

You can read the article at: http://myroyalmail.com/news/national-wales/2013/03/vac-future

There are some great local bands out there - do they all have to go global?

Just a thought. You can't venture far in the UK without chancing upon some great musicians (and some admittedly less so) doing what they love in a boozer in front of a handful of punters.

A freezing night in Poole last night, and there were at least two pubs with live music. These are guys who will never make it to Simon Cowell's iPod. Probably a very good thing, too. They will probably never make it onto mine, but they are doing what they love and often making a pretty good job of it. Covers or originals, there is some creativity going on.

So what if they never make it 'big' and spend their days pushing paper, tapping keyboards or installing taps? It doesn't make their creativity any less valuable or worthy.

As we struggle through one of the gloomiest winters and spring most of us can remember, with snow hitting many of us as we head towards Easter, there will be bands everywhere heading out to entertain us tonight. Most of them will never make as much money as they spend on their guitars and PAs, but they'll have a lot of fun and spread some good stuff around.

I'm often dismissive of covers bands, but who's to criticise them? Not everyone is a song-writer. My songs sit languishing in notebooks and one rubbish demo tapes - probably never to see the light of day. Love playing other people's stuff, though. Nd definitely love listening to all those bands don't around the country who are keeping it live.


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Mourning or celebrating?

Today is the day I bid farewell to my uncle Terry. He played piano at my wedding and I loved him very much. I spoke to him a couple of days before he died on 6 March and we were talking about me visiting soon.
The funeral has to be a celebration of his life. He missed his wife - Nancy - just too much and could never enjoy life without her. Now we have to see them as together again and celebrate everything they gave us all.
It will certainly be a joy to be with my three cousins and my brother, as well as my mum and dad. We have such memories of Nancy and Terry, as well as of my dad and Nancy's parents, my granny and grandad.
I'm somewhat nervous of attending a funeral less than five months after I could have caused my own. Crashing my car in spectacular fashion could easily have done it and I would hate to have put my children through the trauma of my funeral. When the day comes, I want them to really celebrate my life and remember the good times.
And I hope that there are more good times to come. The last few months have been so hard and I want to be able to celebrate again.
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Why I will never leave it to the LastMinute

A poor recent online experience has not stopped me using the Internet for shopping and convenience. What it has done, however, is confirmed that some businesses online are as shabby and unprofessional as some on the high street and in real life.

Planning a weekend in Berlin, a girlfriend and I made a bad choice about our accommodation. No-one's fault and not a story for today, but we needed to find a hotel at short notice. Where else to look but LastMinute.com?

We found the hotel at the right price and location for us, with rooms available straight away. I booked and paid for it and received a confirmation email. An hour later, we found ourselves in the stet, looking for the hotel. It was freezing cold and getting late and we discovered that most hotels don't have street numbers, so we needed to focus on the hotel name.

In the end, we found the hotel by luck. No longer called 'Grand City Hotel Ku'damm', it was now the 'Tryp'. Not an obvious change of name and not very helpful when you're cold, tired and actually still suffering from a fractured shoulder and in need of sleep.

On returning to the UK, I contacted LastMinute to ask for some clarification of why their website showed a different name to that on the outside of the hotel. After several emails, they simply denied it was a problem. Would like to have had them walking the Berlin streets looking for their hotel! There seems nothing to be done. Obviously, I will never use LastMinute again, but they will neither notice nor care.

What the experience proved to me was that there are good businesses and bad businesses. Whether they are online or real is immaterial. We perhaps all need to be better at sharing the bad experiences to get organisations listening to customers and behaving in a more professional way.




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Friends. Who needs 'em?

Me, apparently. I sent someone a series of texts recently (before my recent woes), saying that I didn't 'need' them, but just liked having them around. It turns out I was wrong. I do - and probably we all do - need people around me who care about me.

Having a sequence of minor disasters has shown me that some people respond positively and help out LOADS and others say "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help" and then disappear. I've never been good at asking for help and it doesn't always work out when I do, but I'm getting better at doing it. Maybe I need to try a bit harder.

Interviewing passionate people

It seems I'm not the only person who loves their job.

I've done a couple of interviews recently with people who are paid a pittance - or nothing - to really make a difference. In one case, she's improving the lives of vulnerable young people because she knows that she has to.

Getting up in the morning to do something you love or to make a difference has got to be worthwhile. Just saying.

Writing, writing, writing

A couple of people have recently asked me what I 'do'.

I know I've talked about this before, but I am genuinely grateful that I can sit and write, day after day, and pay the mortgage. Sometimes it's at home and others it's in London. Sometimes it's in coffee shops around the country. What is a joy is that I am actually doing what I love and that is a great blessing.

I'd like to playing more sax, but until this shoulder is fixed, that's really not going to be happening much. Watch this space.

Sick of the shoulder pain from driving too far

Driving to Birmingham and back was a real test. One I failed. Although I was perfectly safe and at the time it wasn't too painful, I'm now in terrific pain from my shoulder. Won't be driving anywhere else in a hurry.

The Stranglers - celebrating 500 gigs with Baz

A great gig from The Stranglers began with 'Toiler' and finished with 'Tank'. Strong songs, these were for the real fans, who know more than the singles. Alternative drummer Jim kicked it off, with Jet Black taking over two thirds of the way through the set and both kits smashing the final encore. Despite Jet's illnesses, he can still hold his own on stage and is immensely rhythmically talented.

At the start of the encores, JJ came on to make an announcement and the audience held their breath. One of the most popular live acts in the UK today and for more decades than most of us would care to remember, most of us are dreading the moment when the farewell tour is announced. And you know with these guys that any such decision would not be made lightly and would not be up for discussion.

Instead, the announcement was positive and heartwarming. For Baz Warne, the new boy, this night saw his 500th show on guitar and vocals. There may be die-hard fans who regret the line-up changes over the years, but no-one can deny Baz's impact on the band. "I'm speechless," he said, before making a speech, albeit brief.

I'm in the fortunate position of being granted Access All Areas with The Stranglers and my children have grown up on their gigs. Now that my youngest is taller than all of them (including their driver - his dad) and my oldest has been part of their touring crew, they really are like part of the extended family. That doesn't stop me turning into a huge fan as soon as they hit the stage and I take my position front of house with the sound and lighting guys,





We all have favourite Stranglers tracks. You might not know it, but you probably love JJ's bass line on 'Peaches' as much as the next man. No matter your age. My favourite remains 'Always the Sun', although 'Sleazy' retains a certain appeal.

It didn't seem to matter to the audience - everyone had their favourite song. It didn't matter whether they were men of a certain age, much like the band, or the significant proportion of women and younger people. Last year's 'Giants' album has introduced a whole new audience to the songs. Much like the Wilko Johnson Camden gig earlier in the month, this is a band who can still play awesome songs like they were written yesterday. And they weren't even a second late on stage.

This is very much a four-piece band. JJ gives up his perfect backing vocals to sing lead vocal on songs that he has always led on and Dave still leads on keyboards when called for. Usually one-handed, while swigging from a pint in the most debonair, rock 'n' roll style.

Behind them throughout the show was a visual light-show that teetered on the edge of distracting. Each track had a separate light show, done with a sense of humour that added to the overall effect. Nevertheless, it was the songs that shone through.

Billed as the Feel It Live tour, you could really feel it. Live.


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Location:Birmingham O2 Arena

Random corner of my bedroom, duly lit with my 50th birthday lamp, courtesy of my parents.

Pool party

I couldn't play, or stay for long, but this was so much fun!

Physiotherapy - such a blessing

My car had to be jump-started by the RAC last night, but I took it for quite a long run and then this morning managed to drive to Stevenage to re-start my physiotherapy.

Julie is a miracle-worker. She showed me exercises to try to get my shoulder moving again, but warned that it might turn out to be frozen, which is a much longer healing process. Fingers crossd that it's not.

Sometimes, the pain is just too much and I really need to get my pain killers sorted. But we are definitely making progress and I'm trying to get to do the exercises every couple of hours. I am determined that this will not last for two much longer. I've had four months of pain and painkillers and I'm bored of it. I just want to get on with my life and definitely get back to playing sax next week.

Beauty in architecture - or is it art?

I love Blackfriars station and the whole Bankside area. There is constantly something new to see. Today, it was this repainted panel on the edge of the bridge. Just beautiful and someone, somewhere made the decision to renovate this rather than destroy it while the rest of teh station was being upgraded.

Rhythms of the World - but not as we know it

It has just been announced that Rhythms of the World - cancelled earlier because of the loss of a venue - will be holding a fun day in teh Market Square on Saturday 14 July 2013.

Most of Hitchin has called for a return to the old days of the festival in the heart of the town, but it had become unwieldy and a victim of its success. Too many people streaming into the town centre and too much noise and disruption.

It will be interesting to see what actually happens in the Fun Day, but it appears that there is a desire to keep it small and family-oriented. Bands, certainly, but not a return to the past extravaganza.

Waiting for the plane home

Why is is it so annoying to sit for so long in some airports? In Gatwick, you are simply encouraged to spend as much cash as possible, or drink as much as possible. Here at Berlin's Schoenefeld airport, you have to endure hard plastic seating in a massive corridor, watching other people head - or rush - for their planes.

Arriving too early means less panic and more discomfort, whereas arriving late means a rush and potential embarrassment at your walk of shame to your seat - the last available - on the plane. Worse still, yours will be the name called out over the public address system as the person delaying the closing of the doors.

Mind you, none of that is true here in Berlin. There seems to be no PA system in this corridor and few enough display boards, so the panic is more about ever knowing which gate you have to run towards.

Moments ago, every plastic seat here was occupied and each spare inch of space accommodated a bottom. Now, all I can see is empty seats and the occasional Brit bemusedly looking for somewhere to buy a cup of tea. Clearly, a couple of departures have made it out.

I'm gasping for a drink but, of course, I had to throw away the bottle of water I had bought outside the airport. Heaven forbid anyone should dare to take more than 100ml of liquid onto a plane. No-one seems to have considered that a family of four could have enough liquid between them to probably construct some sort of device of which most of us are completely unaware. Perhaps terrorists don't have families. Maybe they would never travel with them.

There is also an underlying sense that maybe everyone else knows something that I don't. I know I'm early for my flight, but no one else seems to have done similarly.

Every half hour or so, a lull brings the corridor to eerie silence and then the plastic chairs gradually fill up again. I have discovered that Burger King will give out free cups of hot water, to which I can simply add my own (carefully prepared) green tea bag from home. Result!

And now the plane is delayed. Sunday night will be even longer before my head hits my pillow. And soon an air hostess will tell me to turn off all electrical devices. But at least I was able to buy more than 100ml of water to bring with me.



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Dear Berlin - keep it up

Whoever is training the men and women of your service industry is doing a great job, Berlin.

I had breakfast with a delightful young man at a cafe in Ku'damm. Then, a very helpful waitress brought me freshly squeezed orange juice and tomato soup close to the Brandenburg Gate. Another brought green tea and rich brownie next to Checkpoint Charlie. Another green tea from a young man in a train station I can't remember the name of and finally several waiters in a great curry house served me with a smile this evening.

Of course, I paid for the refreshments and tipped heavily, but my over-riding memory of Berlin will always be of friendly people who could not do enough for me. It seemed genuinely caring and friendly and that might be naively on my par, but today was a delight.

Thank you, Berlin.

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Berlin brings a blast from the past

Coming out of my hotel just off Berlin's Ku'dam, I found myself accidentally right outside the hotel I stayed in 23 years ago when working on Roger Waters' 'The Wall', Berlin 1990.

Later in the day, when enjoying being a tourist, I realise that the impressive Holocaust Memorial between the Brandenburg Gate and Potsdamer Platz sits right where my portakabin was. I had a tiny office, shared with a colleague while all around us the stage was built, rehearsals performed, costumes created and tantrums calmed. Usually.

One of my most vivid memories was the day of the show in July 1990, trying to monitor the 'Access All Areas' passes. These coveted AAA laminates were worn around the neck of stars and their friends, families and 'staff'. Some of the requests were reasonable, friendly and satisfied (Bryan Adams could have had anything he lik - he was full of respect). Others were difficult, arrogant and downright nasty (naming no names, but they know who they were).

So, the room I sat in as the stream of artists and crew came and went, was right where - two decades later - tourists remember the millions murdered in the Holocaust. The immensely fortunate life that I have had was partly conducted in a place of somber reflection and I am not worthy.

Too much of my life has been wasted. Too many opportunities squandered. Too many people by. Far too many days, weeks and months spent too casually on irrelevancies.

Berlin is a city that can only humble every visitor. Blessed with long lives and many good fortunes, how many of us have justified those opportunities? That is why we remember Anne Frank. She stands as a symbol of all those children and young people whose lives were cut short.

An hour walking around the Checkpoint Charlie Museum was not long enough. A walk around the Holocaust Memorial was just a gesture. I can do no more than try my best. I cannot go back to July 1990 and nor can I wish that decisions I made then and subsequently had not been made. My life starts today. Now. Sitting in a hotel surprisingly close to that one of 1990, and vow to make my life count.

The last four months have been truly horrible, with a massive car crash and then a fractured shoulder. But using those two events as excuses for inactivity and a lack of creativity is a cop-out. Get on with it.


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A little disastrous ... Put right eventually

Amanda and I flew into Berlin this afternoon and arrived at the flat we had booked and paid for online, sadly, it was not what we expected. After a couple of hours of deliberating and web surfing, we checked into a hotel on the opposite side of town. Expensive but probably the only solution.

Definitely in my Top 10 gigs of all time - Wilko Johnson at Koko

I have been trying to work out why this gig was so outstanding.

It was a strange one for me. An hour before it started, I had a call t say that a favourite uncle had died that day. The friend I went to the gig with is undergoing treatment for cancer. Wilko Johnson has announced that he has cancer and won't be undergoing treatment.

But none of those things explains why the gig was so memorable. From the moment the trio walked on stage, there was an energy that had been missing from the support act, who were probably half their age - or maybe even younger.

That energy was partly caused by exceptionally talent both on stage and in the production crew. The sound filled the room and yet you could pick out every note and every line perfectly clearly.

I knew not one of the songs - wrong era, maybe, or just not a fan - but each one felt right. They were heartfelt.

It was a joy to see Alison Moyet join them on stage for two numbers. Apart from looking amazing, she still sounded gorgeous - a little like floating in chocolate. Well, I imagine that is what it would be like. It was a tribute to WJ and although we had to leave before the final encore had played, we got the sense of a man who simply did not want to leave the stage. Metaphorical? Perhaps.

The day reminded me of the facts of life - we are all going some day and maybe we just never know when that will be. But this wasn't, for me, s sad gig or one about a man suffering from cancer. It was simply a gig. A great gig. One I will remember for all the right, musical reasons.

A sad day for those of us left behind

My favourite uncle died today. Very suddenly, just as suddenly as his wife passed a few months ago.

He was lost without her and just couldn't go on alone. A sad loss for his children, though. I consider myself fortunate in so many ways and, today, not least in having both parents still with me.

I know his funeral will be a big affair and we can be happy that they are now reunited. I had a long chat with him just a few days ago and am very happy that I did so. He cared about me and my children and had played piano at my wedding. The only time he ever performed in public.

Now I'm in Camden to watch one of the final shows by Wilko Johnson, a guitarist recently diagnosed with cancer who has refused chemotherapy.

A strange evening.


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Location:Villiers Street,London,United Kingdom

You have to love Doc Martens

Not mine, but Fred's. Enormous great boats, but he's getting to love them already.

Book Club - really not going to make it

I love reading, but not sure discussing books at a book club is for me. A shame, since I used to run one myself. Tomorrow's subject is Lucky Break by Esther Freud and I'm just not getting it. Added to my constant shoulder pain at the moment, I'm doing NOTHING that isn't either fun or definitely worthwhile.

Things I am looking forward to doing when my arm is fixed

The list is long. It really is amazing how debilitating a fractured shoulder is. So, here are a few of the things I have been unable to do since turning 50 on 15 January:

1. Play sax.
2. Drive.
3. Cook anything more than the basics.
4. Wear a bra.
5. Tidy up and carry stuff around the house.
6. Have a hug from a friend.
7. Hold my head high without stooping shoulders.
8. Sleep on my left hand side.
9. Sleep for more than three hours at a time.
10. Make and carry mugs of tea for friends.
11. Read a book with ease.
12. Change the sheets (on my own - I've had help).
13. Moisturise and put make-up on properly.
14. Type quickly.
15. Cut up my own food (see number 12).



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Location:Old Park Road,Hitchin,United Kingdom

Awesome performances at Queen Mother Theatre

I managed to buy one of the last available seats at Hitchin's QMT tonight and enjoyed their performance of Frankenstein. A very moving staging and outstanding music.

Arriving at Victoria Station brings back memories

It's coming up for thirty years since I arrived at Victoria Station by coach at the end of a European tour with The Style Council.

I find myself back here - not for the first time - but events of the last four months have made me both nostalgic and emotional. I'm not yearning for those past days, but remembering them fondly. My life has been extraordinary and two crises that are actually relatively minor, if temporarily debilitating and annoying, do not negate some amazing events.

The conversation as the coach drew up to Victoria Station in October 1983 went something along the lines of "are you busy next week?" (Paul Weller) "not really, just uni" (me) "okay, see you at 11am on Monday". I think it was a Monday. Irrelevant, but led to me going into the recording studio and being part of 'Cafe Bleu', one of my favourite albums.

Maybe it's the fact that it's 1 March and I'm desperate - really desperate - to recover from the car crash and shattered shoulder. Whatever it is, I am looking back while also planning for more in the future.

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Location:Buckingham Palace Road,London,United Kingdom