Its been getting noisy round our manor...

At the end of February I acquired my first Gibson Les Paul. I've always wanted one, mainly thanks to Jimmy Page and The Bluesbreakers 'Beano' album. It was Johnny Marr that really spurned me on though. Reading his new book 'Marr's Guitars' and watching a YouTube interview I was gobsmacked to learn that he used them extensively during his tenure in The Smiths.

So now I've got one, Im going to put it to good use. My son and I have always jammed and messed about musically since he was little. Now he's taller than me, we've formed a cookin duo The Gadgets: Danny is on drums and I'm on vox/guitar duty. We are kinda like The Black Keys playing Sun era rockabilly, fronted by a Eddie Cochran/Lee Mavers wannabe.We have our first gig in August, I'm very excited by this...

In many ways, I've come full circle. In 1993, when I started, all I aimed for was to be a guitar player. I've ventured far from this: down winding pothole strewn paths and dark back alleys. Its good to be home.

The Eye Is The First Circle

I first encountered Lee Krasner reading about Jackson Pollock, who thanks to The Stone Roses, was the first artist I’d ever really taken any notice of. It was an even bigger revelation, sitting in Northampton Library one Saturday in 2005, to discover that his wife was also an artist. And that it was her efforts and unwavering support that helped bring his work to wider attention and acclaim. Also, her work is absolutely stunning.

In a career spanning over fifty years, Lee Krasner moved from painting murals for the WPA in the 1930’s, to her Little Images of the late 40’s/early 50’s to a series of enormous, vibrant abstracts in the 1960’s some of which were painted with her left hand (she had fallen and broken her right arm). In many ways, this encapsulates the bold, independent and innovative artist and human being she truly was.

Her singular management of Pollock’s estate after his death in 1956, led to the creation of the Pollock/Krasner Foundation, which works supporting and nurturing artists today and is a fine example of her enduring legacy. Had Lee Krasner been a man, her work would be as familiar to us as Picasso, Pollock, De Kooning, Klimt and Matisse. In 1984, she became one of the few women artists given a career retrospective at MOMA in New York. She acknowledged the accolade saying:: ‘I was a woman, Jewish, a widow, a damn good painter…’

Lee Krasner is my favourite artist. Here is a poem I wrote about her.

The Eye Is The First Circle

i.m. Lee Krasner

I came across a photo of you

the same age as me:

August, nineteen fifty six,

two weeks since your husband

died in a car crash. Prophecy

is by your side. I read

that you wept as you carried

on. Using all of your five two

sweeping and slashing line,

form and colour as only you

can. I wept at Little Images.

Afterall, it was you who said

in painting and life there

is no separation. I understand

now more than ever.

Romance In Blue

When I was eleven years old. My favourite music to listen to was Glen Miller. I don't recall how I first heard him - probably on telly or the radio in my Nan's house one Sunday. He was the first musician I was really into. Just the sound of his band...It lifted me out of myself. The first music I ever purchased was on cassette in Bojangles, Sheaf Street, Daventry. It was a best of Glen Miller and a compilation of performances he made for radio during the second world war. I think it was In The Mood that got me into him - the blues has always run deep for me, but that's another story. I loved Chattanooga Choo Choo, Tuxedo Junction and Pennsylvania 65000; I Got A Gal In Kalamazoo. Those places sounded imaginary to me. Kalamazoo: just the name of that city made me want to visit there.

Far and away my favourite tune though was Moonlight Serenade. I could never exactly put my finger on why I loved the tune so much. It ached with sad resignation; some kind of yearning feel that made it seem otherworldly. It spoke to something inside me that I was definitely feeling but couldn't articulate. I was having a weird old time of it in those days: at home, at school...

Even if I hear it now, I'm compelled to stop whatever I might be doing. It sends me into a weird reverie that evokes visions of two lovers parting a là Brief Encounter; black and white images of my grandparents at ballroom dances during the war. Once I understood the tragic circumstances of his demise, it reinforced for me the bitter sweetness of this beautiful tune.