What was your worst gig?
There have been many duff gigs. One that stands out for remarkable indifference was playing 2 forty five minute sets to the barman in the Central Bar in Leeds (yes the pub was open to the public). We wondered why we were doing it. And the barman probably did too. I don’t know which is worse, indifference or rejection.
What got you started?
My primary 6 teacher was also a guitar player and maker and when I was 15 I took lessons on guitar form him once a week. “Old man” Baxter would show me how to play Mississippi John Hurt and Woody Guthrie songs. That’s how I learned all the guitar chords. I still have one of Mr. Baxter’s guitars what he made.
later, John, Steve and I had a band called the Urangutwangs and we played sort of…well…. a mixed bag of surf, rock’n'roll and quasi-rockabilly. What a racket.
Who or what have you sacrificed for your art?
Probably a “normal” career path and a classic university education. I would love to have been a student in Edinburgh. And a few liver cells. Mind you, I reckon if I went to Edinburgh university my liver wouldn’t necessarily have more cells.
Do you think songwriting is as important as the performance?
Yes. More so. If you write a good song there are dozens of wonderful performers, much better than me who can sing it. If you write a mediocre song, nobody will be interested.
Is there anything you regret about your career?
Not taking as many chances. Sometimes I was more concerned about not being skint than creating something great. I think that’s not unusual amongst musicians. Hell, ya gotta eat.
Who do you admire?
Jimmy Webb for his songwriting, Chuck Berry for his guitar and recording sound. Lyle Lovett for being the most stoical man alive. Andy Murray for not giving up.
What’s the most important thing you’ve learned from being a musician?
Keep writing and creating. We’re all spinning through space at 65000 miles an hour and we’re all going to die. Nothing is that important but it would be nice to leave a legacy. I’m not sure why, it’s just a feeling.
