It was our first proper gig… the Torrington Arms in Finchley was loud and messy. Everyone we knew, that could be bothered, came to it, and everyone was impressed that we had gotten a band together. We were probably shit. But we did it. We were impressed that we had gotten our shit together. Caernavon […]
‘I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad?’ The tell-tale heart, Edgar Allen Poe In the little room in the loft… Meditation was not yet a weapon in my war against insomnia… I lay there anxious about it sometimes – most […]
My best mate Vik put me on to Sarb. The three of us worked at WHSmiths at Heathrow Terminal 4 but I never met Sarb cos he worked Saturdays. I didn’t. Sarb could play drums. As soon as I was aware of him, he was in the band. As soon as Vik had mentioned he […]
The poor fellas were trying really hard to draw out some conversation from me. I drank more Spanish liquor with the hope that it would inspire words. Nothing. I gurgled something at one point though. And missed my mouth when I took a sip trying to practice nonchalance. They slowly gave up. And I got […]
The pint bubbled. The glass struggled to contain it. And we watched it intently and the words that described it danced on top of the bubbles. And then we went back to mine. And I sat in front of The Beatles chord book that taught me how to play guitar. I opened the book and […]
The initial clarity on waking up is startling. It’s like someone’s taken the blinkers off. Or the clouds have lifted after twenty years. But then the pangs of regret, shame and despair start crashing in. In waves. When these moments become routine in relation to regular (for me – mostly daily) alcohol consumption. This shit […]
Tom was interested. Perennially. He held this non-judgmental pause during conversation. His probing questions appealed to me. I struggle with small talk and his capacity to get involved and navigate my meanderings was impressive. And he played guitar. I’d never met someone who could play, to be frank. He was already a hero in my […]
He looked at me like I was cracked. I was. Am. He was a proper guitarist. I could play the G chord if I concentrated and sucked up the pain. A year had passed since Uni. 3 years since our first drinking sessions listening to the Roses and staying up till 9am the next day […]
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