Very very occasionally, it is not until someone passes away, that you realise the length of the shadow that their passing causes. When I heard of the passing of Kevin Keegan, it filled me with a profound sense of sadness and loss. As a player, Keegan to me was primarily an England icon. He ws a Liverpool player, I support Manchester City, so he was a rival, but as an England Centre Forward, he was a hero. He hit his peak at a time when England were dreadful. We had great players, amazing mavericks, but few got picked for England. But Keegan was something else. He was the face of Brut 33 aftershave! Many old school British men thought aftershaves were 'unmanly'. Brut hired British Boxing Champion Henry Cooper and Keegan to star in a TV advert.
It worked, soon every time you jumped on a tube or the bus, you smelled the 'great smell of Brut'. It ws one of the first, if not the first big TV advertising campaign to recognise the advertising pull of Sports people. It also meant that Keegan trascended the world of football. With his curly locks and cheeky chappy demeanour, he became a superstar. But he was also a great footballer, being a prolific scorer at Scunthorpe, Liverpool, Hamberger SV, Southampton and Newcastle.
As a manager, he managed Newcastle, Fulham, England and Manchester City. Keegan won the first divisiion (Championship) with City and secured their future as a Premiership club. As a City fan, I loved Keegan's approach, He didn't have money, but he had charisma and brought optimism. He is probably better remembered for his time at Newcastle, but wherever he went at club level, he improved the team. His England stint was not success and he realised that it wasn't for him.
Keegan was one of the faces of the 1970's. He played football when it was still a working class sport, huge crowds, cheap entry and no frills. He made it seem glamorous. He was only 75 when he passed away, far too young. He will be missed.
Congratulations to Spain. Clearly the best team in the competition by some way. I am especially pleased that Rodri picked up the player of the tournament, as he is a Manchester City legend. He is a decent, humble player who makes his mark on the pitch. As has been the case throughout the tournament, Argentina seemingly had a free pass to kick opponents. Spain were good enough to rise above it. The game was awful though. Argentina didn’t manage a shot on target. The ‘half time show’ was appalling, and clearly did players no favours. The spectacle of Donald Trump lurking on the stage as Spain celebrated was bizarre and embarrassing. At the end, several players brawled like petulant children.
Oddly the third place final was the opposite. A celebration of football. Great players had the shackles of fear removed and served up a ten goal treat. At the end, a huddle of French & English players formed a huddle to pray together. It was how it should be. No Trump stealing the limelight. I don’t know if it would be possible to remove the shackles and fear in a proper final. I suspect that the game would have been very different if both teams made the final, but it was a joy to watch.
What is clear is that the football authorities and lawmakers have turned the sport into a game that seemingly rewards cheats, is only about making cash and provides a platform to dodgy politicians to bask in other people’s glory.
On Saturday I’ll be back at Brickfield Lane to watch Hadley FC in a non league friendly. I’m sure it will be a better game. For clarity my comments above are not directed at Spain who I think are a marvellous team and have a wonderful country, and leaders who seem to have a moral compass
I was born in 1962. I was eight when the decade ended. I was thinking about the era a lot this week with Englands exit from the World Cup. I was 3 & 3/4 at the time. I have vague memories of the day. Not the football, but of a house full of excited people. Nothing much had happened in my life until then. But it wasn’t a vivid memory. As I recall I wasn’t that interested. Dad had a black and white telly and all sorts of people came around as not everyone had tellies. My brothers and their friends were especially excited. So what do I recall vividly?
1. The hearing clinic. I had a condition called elective mutism as a child. I chose not to talk. I can’t really remember why, probably to annoy everyone. I also realised that in our house, if you said the wrong thing you got clobbered. Mum took me to a clinic in Hartley Avenue to see if I was deaf. They told me that they had a machine that could tell if I lied, they could tell. They played frequencies and I had to press a button. It turns out I had perfect hearing. When I was four, I was at the table and exclaimed ‘I wanna piece of cake’. I never looked back. I don’t recall that, but I recall the clinic. BTW Albert Einstein also displayed elective mutism as a child. He was also dyslexic.
2. Luke Albanese moving in. The next door neighbour was a librarian called Mrs Bent. She moved out and a young mum with a two year old moved in. I was 4 I was excited. I asked him his name. He replied ‘chair’ He’s still a mate, although we don’t meet up enough.
3. First day at St Vincent’s. My primary school. I recall walking into the class. Dale Malone, who lived up the road was my buddy. It was after Easter, Everyone else knew each other. The classroom seemed massive. Sister Rosalie was the teacher. I won’t repeat what Dale told me!
4. Man City vs Man Utd in 1968. My brother Frank, 16 years older and a Man Utd fan told me I should support Man Utd. He said Utd were playing City. He said if they won they’d win the league. They lost. I became a City fan
5. My brothers 21st Birthday party. A big doo. Lots of people around. We had an outside bog and a bathroom upstairs. Mum put signs directing ladies upstairs and men outside. To mums horror the blokes all went down the end and pee’d on tree.
6. Harrier Jump Jet landing at St Pancras Station. Dad took me down to see this. It was amazing. It was part of the 1969 transatlantic race.
7. Audition for Heinz Baked Beans commercial. It was 1968, I recall it well. I got the gig because none of the other key ds would eat cold beans. I greedily scoffed them down. The director asked if I liked cold beans. I replied ‘no I’m acting’ - job done!
8. My brother Frank’s wedding. He bought me a play toolset as a present for being an alter server. I used the saw to saw the leg off a chair in the church hall. I got into a lot of trouble.
9.The release of Penny Lane by The Beatles. Radio 1 announced they were playing it. My sister Val took me to her mate Linda Finlay’s to listen to it. They voted it a Miss.
10. New Year’s Eve 1969/70. My sister Caroline announced that it would be an exciting new decade and even better than the 60’s. She told me that she would have lived in three decades whilst I’d only have lived in two. It seemed unfair.
So for the 15th time, since 1966, it aint coming home. 60 years of hurt continue. To be completely honest, only in 1970 and 1986 did I genuinely think we had teams that might have deserved to win, and after I saw Brazil beat England 1-0 in 1970, I had no qualms agreeing that Brazil deserved it. But I think if Gordon Banks had been well, we'd have been in the final. In 1986, I genuinely feel we were cheated. Sure, Maradona scored a wonder goal, but his first goal was the worst, most blatent bit of cheating ever. They won it. It has always stuck in my throat.
This time? No complaints. England became so passive after they scored that they deserved nothing. Argentina are a horrible team, they should have had a dozen yellow cards in the first half, but when England scored, we saw a brilliant display from Argentina. If there is a tragedy with them, it is that they can play great football, but are so wrapped up in cheating that this is obscured. I believe Spain will win comfortably. I like Spain, so maybe I am biased.
As for England? I'd sack Tuchel. He was employed to make the right calls in big games. He couldn't have got it more wrong, in Southgate we had a manager who did well against the lesser teams, we thought we had a man to beat the big boys. The FA should get Pep Guardiola in. Guardiola knows the players better than anyone, as he managed in the Premiership longer than anyone since Fergie and is a proven multiple winner.
However, what the FA really needs to do is take a proper look at the structure of English football. Why are we incapable of producing decent managers. In the 1970's, we were spoilt for choice. Joe Mercer, Bob Paisley, Don Revie, Ron Greenwood, Brian Clough, Bobby Robson, Terry Venables, Bertie Mee, Dave Sexton, were all successful and internationally respected. Now there are two in the Premiership. Eddie Howe and Sean Dyche. There is no clamour for them as England managers. We don't make top managers anymore. That is a failure of the FA and British football. I do not think that the England manager has to be English, but the fact that we don't even have any candidates is awful.
As for last night. We had two of the best players in the tournament in Kane and Bellingham, yet played a system that was not designed to play to their strengths. We have Messi the free run of the park after England scored. What did Tuchel think would happen? Dan Byrne is not an England standard defender. If Messi is the problem, Dan Byrne is not the answer. We had players who can turn a game, such as Cole Palmer and Phil Foden sat at home. We took off Gordon, who was the only player holding on to the ball and running at players, inviting pressure on. I would have left Gordon or Bellingham up by the halfway line, so that Argentina couldn't compress us. We had no one to bring on as a pressing defensive midfield player to bring on when Rice ran out of steam.
Modern International football seems to consist of around 70 minutes of the ball being passed along the back four, 10 minutes of people rolling around pretending to be hurt, 5 minutes of standing around waiting for set pieces and 5 minutes of real action if you are lucky. We have meaningless stats galore, trying to persuade us that it is wonderful. In truth, until Gordon scored, the match was boring beyond belief. England scoring turned it into a real humdinger.
I've no complaints. If I was an Argentinan, I'd be absolutely delighted with the performance. Most of all with the gumption their team showed. England seemed to have all of the creativity coached out of them. I reckon I may live to see 4-5 more world cups. Will I ever see England lift the trophy (I did in 1966 but I was 3)? I don't know, but if I do, I hope it is built on creativity and taking chances, rather than playing six defenders to defend a 1-0 lead for half an hour.
Anyway, that is the footie done for the summer, now its on to music! Here is The False Dots 2023 hit, with a brand new video!
I swore I wouldn't do this, but as I suspected I've got a bit wrapped up in it all. Holding the tournament in thhe orange ogre has not made me happy. If just about anyone else had been President I would have gone, but not with him there. My sister lives in the USA so I'd love to have visited.
But I cannot watch a game and not get involved. When it is England I simply have to watch. I didn't know what to expect. However, I was pretty sure that England had the best manager, and two of the best players in the tournament, as well as a solid back up cast. Like many tournaments, it started as a slow burner, but now we are at the business end of the tournament. There should be no jeopardy in the group phase for teams like England. This was the case. A commanding performance against Croatia set us up. A stutter against Ghana was unexpected, but didn't really matter. Panama was solid if unconvincing.
So England started their knockout phase campaign. DR Congo were excellent, took the lead but Harry Kane came though with a brace. A pattern emerged. A poor first quarter. A stern talk and reorganisation from Tuchel and a vast improvement. So it was on to Mexico. A very difficult game with real jeopardy. Mexico were at a home, in a stadium that was not exactly lucky for England. But Bellingham stepped up. Norway were up next. Once more a poor start by England and Belllingham stepping up.
And England find themselves in the semi final. They are up against Argentina. A country that hates us. A country with possibly the greatest footballer ever in the team. They cruised through an easy qualifying group with little problem. However the knockout games have all proven controversial, with highly iffy refereeing and a clear bias towards Argentina. It seems likely that Cape Verde, Egypt and Switzerland will be cheering England, feeling rather cheated. There is a perception that FIFA want Messi to win the tournament. It will be good for business. It will be in the back of the England players minds that they will get no favours.
I normally have a feeling how things will go, this time I find it incredibly hard to call. I think England will need a superb performance and three goals to win. I think Messi will get a goal and maybe make one. But I also think we have Bellingham and Kane and they can make all the difference. I'm going to go 3-2 to England. However I do think that they will not get the run of the ball and that come the end of the night I may be feeling even more sick and disgusted than I did when Maradona scored the "Hand of God" goal. I just have this sickening vision of Infantino, Messi and Trump all poncing about waving the world cup on Sunday and saying that a clearly rigged tournament was the best ever. I just hope I'm wrong. An Egyptian friend told me that he doesn't normally like England, but he hopes we win 8-0 and Messi gets sent off.
Here's a bit of fun The False Dots put together. Enjoy!
My mother used to say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything". She was wrong. But there are times when saying nothing, keeping a respectful silence and sending condolensces to friends and family and people who are personally affected is appropriate, and if you can't bring yourself to do that, maybe you are the problem and not the solution. I'm not going to speculate on how or why Anne Widdecombe met her death. I don't know and the last thing anyone wants is uninformed commenters speculating. But I do have this to say. I was brought up to believe that any form of violence against women is plain wrong, a hundred times more so when they are a defenceless old lady. So I will be sending my thoughts and prayers to the friends of Anne Widdecombe as I cannot imagine how traumatic and horrible the situation is.
The way we achieve political change in the UK is via the ballot box. If you don't get that then you really have nothing of interest to say to me.
I used to work a stones throw from the Tower of London. I had to actually walk through it to get to my office from Tower station. Oddly, I've never been inside to see the Crown jewels. In fact I have a deep aversion to the building and it gives me the creeps. I am not silly enough to want to see it demolished and replaced with a block of flats, that would be ridiculous, but the building has a terrible history. I am not quite sure whether this aversion dates from my times at St Vincent School, where Irish nuns would regale us with tales of British inhumanity and injustice, and how heads of 'traitors' would be placed on spikes outside the tower, as a warning to anyone who might consider opposing the monarch of the day.
It may also have been down to the fact that an ancestoral relative of mine, Chidiok Tichborne, a poet and an opponent of Queen Elizabeth the first was held in the tower and hung, drawn and quartered for his role in the Babbington plot. For me, I have always felt an affinity with Chidiok. He is 400 years (almost to the day) younger than me. He was an idealistic young man, who wanted a better world. Chidiok joined the Babbington plot in response to Queen Elizabeth banning Roman Catholicism. It seems insane in this day and age that a Christian religion, which had recently been the state religion could be banned and the followers persecuted, but that was the climate in which Chidiok lived.
I am not a historian, however I think there are some important lessons to be learned from history. If we do not learn such lessons, then we may make the same mistakes again. I find the concept of people killing each other over religious differences to be completely sick. The fact that there are many places in the world this still happens is a stain on humanity. Fortunately, Catholics and Protestants seem to have moved on (although there are still tensions in places like Glasgow and Northern Ireland). In England, the main cause of the schism was the dispute between Henry VIII and the Pope over the annulment of his marriage. By most measures, now we'd consider Henry to be a psychopath and a sociopath. He had ultimate power and could exercise it in England as he saw fit.
What the Nuns at St Vincents never really taught us was that there was more to the Potestant cause than just Henry's loins. The Vatican at the time was a deeply flawed institution. Many such as Martin Luther felt that it had lost its way and was more about maintaining unstitutional power than spreading the message of peace and love. When I researched the issue, I was quite disturbed to find that the deeper I dug, the more I agreed with Luther's criticisms of the Church. Had I been around at the time and heard Luthers criticisms, I may well have lined up on his side. As both the Pope and Henry weilded power without balances and checks, Europe descended into a dark period of religious war.
Fast forward to 2026. We have Donald Trump as the most powerful man on the planet. He fires anyone who disagrees with him. He has launced a war against a theocracy in Iran, where the Mullah's control the country and have a despised religious police to enforce their edicts. The more I see of Trump, the more he reminds me of Henry VIII. He is partial to a wife or three. He portrays himself as a ' defender of the faith' whilst completely ignoring the basic principles of the religion (fhonesty, forgiveness, faithfulness).
More worrying for me, is the demonisation of Islam on social media. I am not a Muslim, but I know many honest, decent and caring people who are. I believe that seeing their religion constantly being abiused by people who know nothing about it, is extremely dangerous. Given the history of this century, it would be naive and stupid to deny that there are a small minority of very dangerous radical islamists who have shown themselves to be hellbent on causing death and destruction. But they are a tiny minority in their community. There are similarly dangerous, mentally unstable people in all faith communities. The history of England has plenty of examples of religious crime. Sadly, if we look at nations such as the USSR and China, which adopted atheism as the national faith system, it is no better.
To me, the lesson is that unchecked power is the problem. Whether that power is hard power, as used by Donald Trump, or soft power, where people submit to "infallible religious authority" my view is that without checks and balances, people are repressed and death and misery follows.
I started this blog discussing The Tower of London. It's most famous entrance traitors gate, was where many entered to meet their fate. It may seem strange to some that the last person executed at the Tower was in living memory, was Josef Jakobs, a German spy, who was shot by a military firing squad on August 15, 1941. I believe that the term traitor is much misused. To me, a traitor is someone who willfully sells out friends or a principle for a degree of personal gain. My ancestor Chidiok Tichborne did not betray his beliefs. Of course if you try and assinate a monarch and get caught, it will not end well. But to me he is not a traitor. His poetry, inspired the final song on my bands new album. His poem, written the night before his execution, makes up the middle eight. This one is for you, my spiritual brother.
Traitors (To The Tower)
The darkest secret is the one that you hide from
yourself You're terrified that it will emerge from the back of
the shelf We built those walls of stone to keep the fear in But it's the cancer in our soul that denies the truth
of our sin
The tower holds the jewels But its meaning is a tool And behind the smiling face Are the darkest of places
The darkest secrets of our kings and queens
(The Tichborne Elegy) My prime of youth is but a frost
of cares, My feast of joy is but a dish of
pain, My crop of corn is but a field of
tares, And all my good is but vain hope
of gain; The day is past, and yet I saw no
sun, And now I live, and now my life
is done. My tale was heard and yet it was
not told, My fruit is fallen, and yet my
leaves are green, My youth is spent and yet I am
not old, I saw the world and yet I was not
seen; My thread is cut and yet it is
not spun, And now I live, and now my life
is done. I sought my death and found it in
my womb, I looked for life and saw it was
a shade, I trod the earth and knew it was
my tomb, And now I die, and now I was but
made; My glass is full, and now my
glass is run, And now I live, and now my life
is done.
The tower holds the jewels But it's meaning is a tool And behind the smiling face Are the darkest of places
When it comes down to it, I am a lucky sod. In my life I've been blessed wth the most amazing luck. It seems to me that even when things have been bad, they've always worked out well. So I think it justifies a list
1. I was meant to be born on the 5th October 1962. My mum became very unwell and I was induced and born in August instead. I was very ill, I had three blood transfusions.You may think that such a start to life would be a bad thing? For me, it was a massive stroke of luck. It meant that I was in the year before I should have been. I was, for most of my schooling, the smallest, weakest, thickest child in the class. Given that some of my classmates were actually over a year older than me biologically, it was difficult. But it had several bonuses. I didn't start school (which I hated) until the April, rather than in September. It also meant that I had some key friends in my year, who have played a massive part in my musical career. Had I been born when I should of been, I probably wouldn't have been friends with them.
2. I was the youngest of six children. This meant that I had two elder brothers and three elder sisters on my side in life. They influenced my musical career and have always supported me throughout my life. I'd be lying if I said I never argue with them, but I love them all to death.
3. My father was an Australian RAF war veteran. By any measure, my Dad was an absolute hero. He was a role model and instilled in me an unshakeable self belief. Dad always taught me to be self sufficient and trust my instincts. He taught me to never show fear, even when I was terrified. He taught me that in life we always have choices, but a bad choice today means a more difficult choice tomorrow. He always supported me and in our last conversation, he told me that he had thought me to be a useless waster when I was a teenager, but he realised he was wrong. He had mistalen my stubborness and self belief for just being a difficult contrary person, but he'd realised I was just living life to my own rules, which he approved of.
4. My Mother was the daughter of an Irish immigrant. She was fiercely intelligent. She was in many ways very difficult, especially towards the end of her life. However she had the right values in life and great self belief. She reinvented herself and did very well in business. She was unafraid of taking risks. Like my father she was a great role model. I genuinely believe that good parents are the most lucky thing you can have. Bad parents are the opposite.
5. Clare. Without my wife, I have no idea how my life would have panned out, but I know it would have been worse. She has always supported me, done the heavy lifting and the boring stuff and given me three great kids. I've never actually been sure whether she likes me, but I know she loves me.
6. My kids. Having great kids is the best blessing God can bestow on anyone. I never wanted kids, but was given no choice in the matter. Now I wish I'd had ten of the buggers. They are a joy I am a lousy father in many ways, but the all seem to love me.
7. My faith. I don't tak about it much, but I have a deep, personal relationship with God. I daresay a few of you reading this will think "Oh no, he's a nutcase". I get that but I find that when I do the right things, good things happen. I don't pray for money, cars or even football results. I just pray for the wisdom to make the right decision. It is strange how often when I do I get a moment of clarity and I see the right path. When I hear things like US Presidents saying God told them to bomb Iraq, I despair. I genuinely believe that is not how it works. Sadly, I think most promenant, vocal Christians are the worst advert for faith imaginable. For me, God isn't a bloke with a white beard. God is someone who, in quiet, reflectful moments, you may get a better insight into life from, usually in a way you least expect. Often, this comes at the most difficult and challenging moments. But I get it that not everyone sees it and if you think its all mumbo jumbo that's fine. So long as we all keep our minds open and we appreciate what we've got in life that is enough!
8. The False Dots. I genuinely cannot imagine life without my band. In some ways it has given me everything. I met the person I love at one of our gigs. I started my business so I could have somewhere to rehearse with the band. I persuaded my Mother not to sell the site where our studios are for a pittance in 1989, after my father died, so I could have somewhere to rehearse. Myself and my siblings now manage the site and it has proven to be an amazing investment. But most of all, it is such a blast. I am proud of the music we make and I love my bandmates..
9. SPL International. In 1983, I did a TOPS course in Computer Operations. I wanted to get a job with a stable income, so I could move in with my then girlfriend. At the end of the course, they set me up with interviews at various companies. The first two places I went were horrible. The third interview was with a software company called SPL International. I had no expectations of getting the job, but my then boss, Peter Sutherby liked me. The job was brilliant. I worked there for two and a half years. Another software company called Systems Designers took them over and sadly the vibe was gone, but by then I had a proper career.
10. Hadley FC. About eight years ago, my nephew suggested that I go with him to watch Hadley FC, a local Non League football team. I'd never heard of them. I thought it may be fun. When I got there I loved it. My main football team is Manchester City FC, who I've supported through thick and thin since 1968, but Hadley is something very different. I am a season ticket holder and a shareholder. I met Tom Hammond, our trumpet player there. Whilst I am a City fan, I am part of Hadley FC.
11. Cancer. How can it be lucky to have cancer? I got very lucky. When I was 49, Dr Cuttell at Millway surgery suggested I had "a well mans MOT". I was diagnosed with a non aggressive prostate cancer, following a high PSA test. I was put on active surveillance In 2015, it became aggressive and I had HIFU treatment. That addressed the issue until 2023, when it became aggressive again. I had a radical prostatectomy. Had I not had that PSA test, by now I'd probably have symptoms and be faced with very different choices. The year after I was diagnosed, the NHS stopped doing routine PSA tests.
12. My friends. How lucky am I to have the great friends I have? Some of them date from the day I walked into St Vincents School. Some I've got to know in the last couple of years (such as Tom our trumpet player). All have brought blessings to me.
13. This blog. I never set out to be a blogger, it happened by accident. Being dyslexic. I didn't think anyone would be interested in my blatherings. But it seems they are. I get a lot out of writing the blog. I've met great people and learned so much researching it. It is a form of therapy for me.
As I am sure you know, The False Dots releaased a new album last Saturday called "We don't live in America". Please have a listen
For many bands, the most stressful experience of all is making recordings. There are reasons for this. It is expensive. You have to spend extended periods of time in the company of people and you get to see a different side of them. If you are serious, you have strong opinions. Often you get tired and hungry. Sometimes, drink and/or drugs cloud your judgement. Often musicians are more concerned that their virtuoso playing is showcased, rather than a brilliant end product is produced (some people only think it is brilliant if all you can hear is them noodling). I was chatting with our vocal coach, Josh Alumu yesterday. He's just back from working on a recording with two megastars. Mark Ronson was producing. I really rate Mark Ronson as a producer. If I had an unlimited budget and a new artist, I'd get Mark to produce it. I asked Josh what he's like. He said "He's a nice guy, really calm". This made me think. Being calm in the studio is something that is a massive asset.
I have produced a fair number of artists over the years. Most of them have been new and up and coming artists, with little or no studio experience. Getting a performance from someone who is absolutely terrified in an alien environment is never easy. I only work with people I think have something. Often, they are so scared of making mistakes and embarrassing themselves, that they do not produce a performance. Having worked with a few vocal coaches in the studio, there are tricks that you learn to get people to produce a better performance, but ultimately if you are going to get a proper performance, you have to challenge people and push them to their limits and sometimes beyond. This has to be done in a sensitive and calm way. Once you an artist gets over their fear, often they start to have fun. A great artist will know their own talent better than anyone, and when they realise what they can do, all of a sudden you find that they have more to contribute than you dreamed. When you are working with a solo artist, this is easy. When it is a band, it can cause problems. When bands first start recording, they all want to be involved. The drummer gets a very raw deal. They record first and then they are done. They have to hang around for hours/days/weeks, just watching everyone else do their bit. The same is pretty much true for the bass player. With the rythm section, when it is done, it is pretty much done (unless they do backing vocals).
Guitarists, keyboards, brass are then done. Finally the vocals. Most producers etc do far more work on vocals, as this is what sells records. Often other members get frustrated that the vocalist gets so much attention. I had a mate who worked for a major record label. His job? To take the rest of the band to the pub and buy them beers, whilst the vocalist did their takes (and often whilst session musicians came in to replace their dodgy takes!). I read an interview with one band, who complained that they didn't realise that the band were actually paying for this, as it got deducted from their royalty cheque. If you don't know the industry, it may sound shocking but if you do, you get it.
These days, I am lucky. I have my own studio and when I do work in it, it's free. That is one stress removed. Another stress removed is that we have all been around the block and know what we are doing. We focus on getting a great end product. But we also have fun. I think this shows in our music. It doesn't sound sterile and bland. We have a craic in the studio. Whereas when we first started, we used to get really stressed about playing the perfect performance, now we get that getting the right feel is more important. We get a kick out of coming up with ideas that sound great.
I've learned that the less stress you have in the studio, the better the result. My band, The False Dots has evolved into a very low stress organisation. We do our thing and we have fun. When we were recording our new album, We don't live in America, Tom the Trumpet suggested that we get a crew of friends in to do some chanting on the title track. We turned it into a party. Given the title, we suggested everyone brought their favourite beer from around the world (so long as it wasn't American, cos their beer is wee wee). We then went around and made a clip of everyone telling us what the beer was. We provided Pizza's as well. It was a good fun experience.
It turned into a bit of a party and we had a blast. It was very different to our first recording, with Alan Warner back in 1980. We rehearsed solidly for a week and were all as uptight as it is possible to be. Alan did a great job, but we could hardly play and none of us wanted to be the one to let the band down. It actually turned out OK, but it was anything but fun. Growing up does have its benefits!
London recently saw the Pride parade. As I usually do, when I am working in studio reception, I had BBC Radio London on our speakers. They were interviewing one of the organisers of Pride and they stated that Pride was not just a celebration carnival, it was a protest. They outlined the history of Pride and how it started as a response to police brutality towards the gay community. One of my customers, who clearly looked at me, a fat, white bloke in his 60's and assumed I was a like minded homophobe. He said "What have THEY got to protest about?" I won't publish what he said next, but it wasn't complimentary. I think he was a bit surprised at my response.
I said "You know what, if being gay really was the way to get on in life and THEY really did get preferrential treatment, we'd all be pretending to be gay, just like THEY used to pretent to be straight so they wouldn't get beaten up". He then said "What about all of the illegal immigrants pretending to be gay so they aren't deported?". I replied "What, you mean being deported to countries where you get murdered for being gay?". He then said "What, so you think we should let anyone in, if they say they are gay?". I replied "I don't think that anyone who is gay should be deported to a country where they might be killed by the state for it, so until there is a perfect way to tell, I would say it is the lesser of two evils". I added "If it can be proven an asylum seeker has lied, then I would support the rejection of their application". Not for the first time in my life, I have upset someone with my liberal views.
It did get me thinking about the protest element of Pride. Does London Pride really need to still be a protest movement? Not being gay and so not having to have to endure homophobia, I am not well placed to say. I have gay mates and members of my band have been gay. It is so much of a non issue that I have not discussed whether any of them have felt discriminated against in recent years in London. However, it i a fact that there are violent homophobes in our society. I would guess that London is possibly the best and most liberal place in the world to live. Gay people have historically moved to London for this reason. Even before homosexuality was legalised, London was relatively relaxed. Of course there were all sorts of harrassment of the community by police etc, but in relation to the rest of the UK, you could have a life.
When the law was changed in 1967, it did not mean that homophobia was banned. In fact, we still don't have full legal equality. Religious organisations are exempt from laws concerning homophobia. Being a Roman Catholic, if I was gay and wanted to marry another man, the church is legally allowed to discriminate. Should religious organisations be allowed to make such discriminatory decisions. If you'd asked me 30 years ago, I'd have said yes. I was raised a Roman Catholic and the environment at Finchley Catholic High School in the mid 1970's was wildly homophobic. I cannot deny this affected and influenced me. I was a fully fledged homophobe at the age of 15 when I left the school.
This soon disappated. I got into punk rock. When Tom Robinson sang Glad to Be Gay, I was horrified. How could a punk rocker be such a disgusting degenerate? Then I listend to the lyrics. A penny dropped. I realised that Tom was perhaps the bravest of all of the punk artists. I wore a TRB badge in solidarity. A rather amusing event happened at FCHS. Being a punk, I bought a pair of luminous pink socks and wore them to school. I was sent to the headmaster, who sent me home to change. I pointed out that the school dress code didn't include socks. He said that I was deliberately causing trouble. At the next parents night, he asked my mother if she knew I was gay. She was surprised and asked how he'd deduced this. He said "He wears pink socks". My mum replied "So does Elvis Presley and he's not gay, is he". She decided Kelly was an idiot at that moment.
Why did he say it? I have always believed that he just wanted to cause a rift with my parents. My mother only told me the story 30 years later. I asked her if she had been worried. She replied that "Mothers always know if their sons are gay, it was a completely idiotic thing to say about you". She then told me about another family we know, who had a gay son. The mother had been telling my mum that she knew her son was gay, but he was completely in the closet. My mum asked if she was upset. She replied "Oh no, at least I'll have someone to look after me when I am old". The lady was a very religious Irish Catholic and my Mum explaind that although the Church hierarchy are full of bigots, when its your son or your brother, most decent people are far more tolerant.
Perhps the saddest element of the story is that the chap in question is married now, but his Mum never got to see him walk up the aisle in our Church. I was discussing it with my Mum. She said "You know what, its not for us to Judge, if it makes people happy, so what". In my Mums view, God is a God of love and if he makes someone have a certain sexual orientation, it is for a reason.
Which brings us back to does Pride still need to be a protest? Is the fact that a mum can't see her son walk up the aisle with his husband in Church worth protesting about? Of course, there are plenty of other issues, but it is one that is easy to understand. Well when it comes down to it, whilst we deem people to be second class citizens and let people discriminate for whatever reason, then clearly there is. The argument that "They can get married in a registry office if they want" doesn't wash for me.
I was interested to see what Pride were actually protesting about. I had a look at the Stonewall site. I wasn't surprised to see that a London Pride march was more interested in protesting the awful global injustices, where people get murdered by states, than issues here. However they are also fighting bac the push back on Trans rights in the UK. For people like me, this is a more complex issue. I am not entirely sure I can see any way that in elite athletics it is fair for bilogical females to compete against biological males. In sports like boxing, it strikes me as rather unsafe. Prisons are another area where I find the arguments to be hard to make. I am less concerned about toilets and changing rooms. My wife, who is definitely biologically female tells me she has no problem with trans women using changing rooms. I guess I'd take the view that so long as someone behaves themselves in the changing room, it doesn't matter.
I was born in 1962, when homosexuality was illegal. I live in London, where we are very tolerant. As a white, fat, 63 year old, who has had friends and work colleagues, etc from just about every part of the rainbow, I'd have to say that if you are a homophobe, get over yourself.
We made a short video trailer for it, have a look.
As an artist, a musician and a human being, I always want everything I do to be the best it can possibly be, I also balance that by the need to inject passion and feeling into my work. As a musician, I realised many yeaars ago that if you seek absolute perfection, you never finish anything. You also remove all of the energy and excitement from the music. The best example of this is if you listen to the first two albums by The Clash back to back. The first is badly produced, badly arranged and absolutely brilliant. The second was brilliantly produced by top US producer Sandy Pearlman, but completely lacking in the raw energy that made us all love the first album.
There are many parts of the modern recording process that I believe knocks the guts out of music. I say that as studio owner. If you are making dance music etc, then it is different, but I believe Rock and Roll, Reggae, Ska, Punk etc should maintain a degree of rawness and always be on the edge. You cannot be scared of failure and you cannot moderate what you have to say to fit someonelses pidgeon hole.
The False Dots last Album "Don't be afriad of a finger in the Sun" was at the time our best work. I am really proud of it, but it was very much a transitional album. Our trumpet player Tom Hammond only played on one track and had little input into the process. Tom's fingerprints are all over this, and it is a thousand times better for this collaboration. I talked about all of the song in our countdown, apart from the last one, Traitors. The album starts as upbeat and fun and as it goes on gets darker and more experimental. I have always believed an album takes you on a journey.
When I put the album together, I mentally wanted a journey. The album starts in a rather triumphal and fun way. We lay down our views in the first track, start introducing characters from the bands history in the second track, the third track see us start to get involved in the seedy world of Rock and Roll, but very much as innocents. Track four sees us starting to become cynical, as the scales drop from our eyes as to the nature of our modern capitalist society. Track five sees us our addictions changing as we grow older, with junk food replacing harder, more addictive things. Track six is a story our drummer Graham Rambo Ramsey told us about how he discovered Mod culture, and stopped watching TV sitcoms. It is written from the perspective of someone looking back on a long lost misspent youth.
Track seven is back to the current. It is a sharp look at urban regeneration and how it is done by people who have no interest in the quality of life of the people who live in the the developments. The sense disenchartment with the way things have developed is more pronounced, but we have an upbeat ska soundtrack, that is saying "music gets us through". Track eight is our celebration of Non League Football and the fans that have grown ever more alienated from "Big football culture". For myself and most of my friends. There is a line, credit to our former vocalist Allen Ashley "Saturday gets us through, on the green red against blue". This is true. For many of us, Football and music keep us sane.
Track nine is probably our most fun track. Big Hairy spider is pure silliness. A very personal song about when a teenage crush collides with reading too many horror comics and eating too much cheese late at night. It marks a pivot on the album from fun to more dark subject matter.
Track ten, Pusherman, is where the chickens come home to roost. In the mythology of Vampires, you have to invite them in. In the real world, I see the nearest thing to a Vampire to be unscrupulous drug pushers. There are plenty of references in our songs to casual drug use. This is where the chickens come home to roost and you find that you've got Satan sitting on your couch, canoodling with your girlfriend and you are too out of it to care. I've often thought that it would be great to go around and get hardocre dealers to tell their worst stories. This would be more effective than just saying no.
Track eleven is our blast at people who are unable to accept truth and facts. It as written in 1979, but could have been written yesterday.
And finally. I didn't preview this track in the coutdown - Traitors - I can recall that when Margaret Thatcher was deposed, I saw a Mill Hill Tory stalwart on the train home. He was almost in tears. He bitterly said to me "All political careers ultimately end in betrayal and tears". Traitors - The middle 8 was written in 1568, by an ancestor of mine, Chidiok Tichborne, as he awaited execution in the Tower of London, for being part of a plot to assassinate Queen Elisabeth I. I always felt he was a kindred spirit, although I've never really been tempted to assinated anyone. But it is the logical end of the journey. Life has all sorts of moments, but we all eventually come to face our Tower, betrayed, let down, failed. It is musically very different. It has a programmed drum beat. Rambo put some mad cymbals on after, to make it feel organic. Artistically, the thing I like most is the free form Jazz trumpet riffs at the end. It sounds to me like the soul has been freed of the worries of life and is just floating in the ether.
I used to hate Man Utd, but then I grew up. Now I only feel pity for their fans, continually shafted by greedy owners who care less for their own fans, than I did when I hated them. I never robbed or shafted Utd fans, just chanted my disdain. The Glazers have absolutely destroyed the reputation of Man Utd and turned them into a joke club.Rattycliff is even worse. Ferguson built a legacy and they were the Uk’s no 1 club. Now they are debt ridden, the stadium is falling down and last season they didn’t qualify for Europe and got knocked out of every cup at first attempt. I would say they are the biggest joke in football but Infantino has made FIFA have that title.
Under his rule, FIFA has given World Cups to despotic regimes, with no regards for human rights. The schedules are all about keeping TV sponsors happy. The prices for matches has gone through the roof. The US world cup has seen the introduction of 3 minute hydration breaks, effectively turning matches into games of four quarters. This was done to pacify US advertisers and is universally despised by fans. It works against the interests that teams that have momentum. England have benefitted from a coaching reset, but it is simply not what football is all about. The scandal about the rescinding of USA star Balogans red card, at the behest of Donald Trump is just the latest example of brown nosing Trump. Although not quite as revolting as giving him the Trumped up award of the "FIFA Peace prize", it actually completely undermines the concept of fair treatment in disciplinary hearings.
In truth, it seems to me as if US commercial interests are the most corrosive thing in Football. The Glazers exploitation of Man Utd gives a window into the contempt for ordinary fans. Infantino's fawning over Trump shows that the game has lost its soul. On Saturday, I will go to my first pre season friendly of the season at Hadley FC. I am an addict to football and I've loved watching England, but it is becoming for me, raised a Catholic, almost a guilty pleasure and I feel embarrassed to say I am enjoying it. In many ways supporting clubs with owners like Man Utd's and watching FIFA run competitions is like being involved in an abusive relationship, where you are hopelessly in love with a complete bastard, who doesn't respect you and see's your role solely as being subservient to their desires. We all know what the sensible thing to do is, but none of us ever do it. The fans have never had a say in how the President of FIFA is elected. The process is more shady than a Russian presidential election.
I have to say I was pleased that England played in Mexico. It seemed proper. I felt like I could pretend we were in a proper tournament in a decent place. I hope that one day Mexico get a world cup again. I would go. In truth, if the USA had a decent and honest President, I may have gone. However I had worries that I'd be turned around at the border, for what I said on this blog. It seems that people have been refused entry for less.
I wil feel far more comfortable at non league Hadley with a bunch of people who love football and a club that cares about its fans. The False Dots released our new album on Saturday and we have a love song to Hadley FC on it, Have a listen!
A few years ago, I was having a sort out of the junk I've acquired over a lifetime. I found a bunch old school books from my time at St Vincents. My kids were appalled at how inept I was at writing. I wrote about it and gave an example in one of my dyslexia blog series. In one of the other books, our teacher asked us what we wanted to bewhen we grew up. I think my answer may shock you. I said "I want to have a shed and a pond in my garden". Interestingly. I have 2 sheds and 2 ponds these days, so I can confidently say I have succeded. You may think that this shows an extraordinary lack of ambition. I think it shows a maturity far beyond my age. I wanted something achievable, which would bring me great joy. What I really wanted was a shed with a workbench and lots of tools that I could sit in all day making and mending things, then a very large pond I could go fishing in after a day in the shed. Sadly, I've not acheived that level of shed/pond ownership and in truth my interests have changed. But there is a small part of me that would love that.
I recall being humiliated by the teacher who set the problem. They felt that this was not something to aspire to. They wanted me to say I wanted to be a bank manager, an estate agent or a motor mechanic. Some of the class came up with some wonderful dreams of jobs. A few wanted to be builders like their Dad's, others wanted to be racing car drivers and footballers. The teacher treated such unachieveable dreams as far more sensible than mine. They were complimented on their ambition. When I was fourteen, I had a career counselling session at Finchley Catholic High School. I recall it well. The teacher asked what I wanted to be. I said "An astronaut". I had learned from my previous experience. Once more I was berated. This time for being stupid and selecting something that was completely unrealistic. I still have the sheet of paper. Suggested options? Mowing lawns for Barnet Council or working as a motor mechanic. Shortly after, I discovered Punk Rock and I knew exactly what I wanted to be.
I wanted to be in a punk rock band, with a beautiful wife and a great gan of mates. I wasn't bothered about being rich, I just wanted to play gigs in small clubs and have fun. Like the pond, I have achieved it. There are downsides, though. When you get to sixty three, you still love doing gigs, as I did yesterday, but you suffer for your art. My back, knees and ankles hurt like hell, after all the jumping around and lugging gear. We had a blast though, and that is why I will do it until I can't (or no one will play music with me).
As for having a beautiful wife, that has it's downside. It's bad enough when people say "what on earth is she doing with you?" it's even worse when you are having a drink with a drunken mate and they tell you of their undying lust for your missus. I used to take such comments as a compliment, but I've always kept a beady eye on them after! And having a great bunch of mates. Well you have to work on that and often, I end up drinking far too much as I feel I have to be part of the gang and I don't want FOMO. It will probably be the death of me. But in truth I am lucky.
I have mates who's biggest dream was to have a well paid job. They liked the idea of the cash, but the downside is that it takes over your life. They missed the best bits of their kids growing up. For some, it lead to the breakdown of relationships and abject misery. It also lead to the neglecting of friendship groups, leading to isolation. I bumped into an old school mate on the tube. Successful, well off and totally miserable. He was telling me how it all went wrong in his life. I felt quite sad. Then he started boasting about his cars and his money. I felt even sadder, he'd become a crashing bore. He was very sniffy about me playing in a band. I think he assumed that I actually lived in a shed and my toilet was a bucket.
A female colleague I used to work with had a different dream. She wanted a fancy wedding. She was obsessed with the idea. She chose a man who was photgenic. She forced him to go to a local church that was pretty for a year, so they could marry there, even though he was an atheist. The wedding and the reception were the most fancy I've been to. When it was done, she realised that what she wanted was a big day, where she was the centre of attention. The drudgery of married life and kids was not for her. She decided it was all her husbands fault. He was a steady bloke, great job, generous, pleasant, committed father, etc. She decided he was too boring for her and left him and the kids. I bumped into her a couple of years after the divorce. She confessed that she'd only married him for the fun of the big day. She'd not thought about what comes next.
And ther elies the rub. If you want a shed and a pond, apart from the odd bit of maintenance, you know what you are getting yourself into. If you want a fancy wedding, you then have a spouse to live with. If you get a well paid, important job, you get a load of brain damage and stress with it. My Mum once gave me a very sound bit of advice. She said "When you are making important life decisions, always think about where they will leave you in ten years time". Now in ten years time, I'll be 73. For me, right now, the financial decisions I make in the next couple of years will decide whether I'll be living in the shed then. Will I still be in a band. I hope so. I hope my wife, kids and friends are all still fit, fun and healthy. I hope we look back on the current period as a bit of a blip on the road of life, and the idiots and conflicts that dominate our news channels have become items for the history books.
Nothing lasts forever. The last decade for me has been a mixture of terrible and absolutely fantastic. I think that is the way of life. I've had personal challenges, business challenges, the world has seen pandemics, bad politics and financial pressures. But the times with famaily, friends and band have been fantastic. For me, it is our best ever recordings. Ten years ago, when the Brexit vote was the big news, I couldn't have predicted the good or the bad things that have dominated the last few years. At the time, I wrote a blog, in the aftermath of Brexit, where I posted a message of hope. Although my optimism has had a battering since then and I am more cynical, I think it is still basically true. The loudmouths will always be heard and the quiet, reasoned people drowned out, but that doesn't mean they are the majority. It has long been said "Careful what you wish for". In truth, these days, I wish for little, health and happiness. If the Good Lord is listening, which I am sure they are, I hope that they hear my wish. I hope that if it is granted, it is in a way that makes everyone on the planet just a little happer and healthier as well. I cannot sign off without mentioning England and the World Cup. Come on England, put in a good performance. Mexico are one of the teams I prefer. It is a country I hope to spend some more time in. I hope our fans make us proud, whatever happens.
Keep the faith.
Yesterday saw a real pinnacle on the journey, with the launch of The False Dots new album "We don't live in America". We are reaping the fruits of involving our Trumpet player Tom Hammond in the songwriting process. I've been previewing the album on the blog recently. I'd really appreciate a listen and a like. Please check it out
You make plans. Life gets in the way. I am a great believer that the big bloke up in the sky with the white beard has a plan and you have to listen. Sometimes, things come together, but you have to throw your plans out of the window and start again! We've been previewing the new album by The False Dots all week. Today is the one day to go mark. The song we were reviewing is called Wrong. But there is something I had to say that is more important than our album, but is dead on theme with the song today.
Let me start by introducing you to Woofus. This is Woofus in the studio reception this morning. He is a rather large 6 year old Staffie. His owners dumped him. He has a microchip. The owners were contacted by the police, who said they were not interested. The police were going to put him down, but despite his size and breed, he is a softy. They couldn't. They contacted my studio manager Darren's friend Suzie who works at an animal rescue centre, to see if they could help. Suzie fell in love. You may know Suzie if you watch animal documentaries. She is an expert snake handler and had her own series. She took one look at the dog, who was calle Rufus, renamed him Woofus, and took him on.
He is lovely. I got slobbered and kissed on arrival, by Woofus I hasten to add. Suzie was just dropping off a birthday present for Darren, but meeting Woofus was a real treat for me. I love dogs. I have two that are rescue dogs. I have strong views on the subject.
I personally would send people to prison who mistreat or dump dogs. I think dog welfare is something that should be taken seriously. I must add that it is not only dogs, this extends to rabbits, cats, pets and farm animals. In a civilised soceity none should be treated badly. I would like to see licences re-ntroduced for pet ownership. Anyone who genuinely loves animals would not object. I'd also have DNA registry, paid for by the licence, that means dumping animals is not an option.
What happen to Woofus, my dogs and countless other animals in the UK is wrong. I had a canvas for the track sorted, but I've regenerated it featuring Woofus, to make the point. Thank you big guy up in the sky for bring this all together so nicely. In the unlikely event that I ever make any money from the song, I'll donate a goodly chunk of my share to our local dog rescue centres. Here is Woofus joining The False Dots on guitar at The Horn music venue in St Albans. Some people are sniffy about AI generated videos, but for me, it means we can do this. And as for the song Wrong, it was the first song ever played by the False Dots at our first rehearsal in 1979. A real blast of Punk Anger. It never occurred to me before but in many ways, it sums up bad dog owners.
Wrong
Do you consider yourself a thinking person? Or an object for others to manipulate Nobody's immortal Nobody's irreplaceable You're Wrong You're Wrong You're Wrong You're Wrong!
To sum up
If you have a brain, take responsibility for your actions. Don't blame everyone else. Respect your responsibilities. Don't go to your grave being a prick. Rant over.
We have made Woofus an honoury member of the band!
Three days to go unti the launch of The False Dots new single "We don't live in America". Today we are previewing track 10 on the album, Pusherman (I'm the man). We have skipped track 9, Big Hairy Spider as it was the single from the album and has already been released (CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE VIDEO). Pusherman is an old song, which we've given a new lease of life. We recorded it in 2006, with a very different iteration of the band. Myself and Fil Ross were on guitar, Paul Hircombe (RIP) on bass and Tony Cavaye on drums. Charlie Honderick takes a guest turn on vocals. I like the version, which we released on our odds and sods album, but we felt that a more raw, updated version with Trumpet would work well.
It is a big song, a horrible song. Back in the mid 1980's I rented a room in a house share in Mollison Way. When I moved in it was pretty respectable, but a couple of housemates moved out and a couple of drug dealers moved in. The flat became a centre for dealing, which was awkward for me, as I had a respectable job, I moved out after three months, but I saw a few things that were totally beyond the pale. My actual flatmates were not too bad as people, but there were a couple of suppliers who were really hard core, with no respect for anyone or anything. I was fascinated to observe them. The first time I met them, I walked in when they were conducting business. Can you imagine walking into your own front room to be greeted with "Who the F**K are you?". During that period some of my vinyl went missing and on more than one occasion, I got in and went to bed to find someone crashed out in it.
I mentally noted their behaviour and wrote the song after watching an episode of Life on Mars, the series with Philip Gleinister. I cast myself as the Pusherman in it. We retitled the song "I'm the man" for the Odds and Sods release and changed the lyrics, as Charlie wasn't overly happy being the font of all evil. This is the full version in all its glory. It's all true, but I am acting the role, it is not me! The British love playing baddies and it is fun to sing it.
Three days to go unti the launch of The False Dots new single "We don't live in America". Today we are previewing "Hadley FC We love you". Tom Hammond, our Trumpeter and part time singer joined the band after chatting to me at Hadley FC where we are both season ticket holders. We wanted to write the ultimate football song for our fave Non League team. The actual song has had two other versions. I wrote it in 2012. We recorded a version with Allen Ashley, who wrote the original third verse and middle eight. It was a generic football song. Lee Thompson from Madness recorded saxon the song. We recorded it and made some CD's to raise cash for Prostate Cancer charities, in association with Madchat (The Madness Charity).
When Tom joined the band, we rewrote the lyrics and repurposed the song for the England Euro's campaign. I took the vocal duties. Tom then suggested we do a Hadley version. So when the album is released, you'll be able to compare all three. This song is very Hadley specific and we will be releasing a limited edition vinyl single version.
Saturday Hadley Version
Verse 1
Saturday is here again,
the weekend starts, let the football begin
Back in 2023, I was personally struggling. Having been diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2011, I was faced with a second round of treatment, which was going to be life changing. This series of blogs gave some clue to my readers. I didn't personally realise the magnitude of challenges I was facing. To my surprise though, BBC Radio London mid morning host Eddie Nestor had been following the blogs and got in contact. Eddie had his own challenge with cancer a couple of decades ago and recognised the fact that I was struggling, perhaps more than I realised. Eddie got in touch and offered his support. We have discussed cancer many times since.
Yesterday, Eddie announced that he was facing a new battle himself. When I started this journey, back in 2011, I would have posted a blog saying "Thoughts and prayers with you Eddie, I don't know what else to say". Now I do. I have grown up. One of the most important lessons I learned in 2023 is that you have to say what you feel. I have this message for Eddie.
Dear Eddie,
I read your post on Facebook yesterday and I was absolutely devastates. When we have spoken recently about cancer, it has been from the perspective of people who had survived, moved on and wanted to help others facing the challenges and share our experience. We both also know that the monster may still be under the bed. When we last spoke, we discussed how for people in our position, cancer is more a mental health issue than a physical one. What we spoke of the anxiety of check ups and perceived symptoms. We spoke of the fear of the monster under the bed.
In 2023 when I was struggling, you stepped up and offered support and an opportunity to honestly air the struggles I faced as a 60 year old man facing a life changing procedure. I didn't know what the future held, what to tell my children or wife about my feelings and how to deal with the huge anger and resentment that I was feeling. As someone who's job it is to talk and make people feel comfortable, you did an amazing job helping me put the jigsaw of life back together in my head. Given that we are both scalliwags from London, who don't particularly like showing vulnerability, I never properly thanked you for this. Partly, this is because I guess you didn't want thanks, but partly because when we put the monster back inder the bed, we like to pretend it isn't there.
I read your statement yesterday as I was about to visit the gym. I spent 30 minutes on the cycling machine in turmoil. When we hear such news, it reminds anyone living with the monster under the bed that it is still there. I also realised that it would only be right and proper to say something. I have no idea whether you'll read this, but if you do there are some important things I want you to know. The first is that I love you mate, and if there is anything I can do, just let me know. It may seem a strange thing to say about a bloke I've only spoken to on the phone, but it is important to realise the effect your support had on me and how appreciated it is. The second is that we never realise how dark it is getting until someone turns the light on. I thought the sun was shining and I was doing alright mentally, until yourself and other friends put the light on. Even though your no 1 battle is the physical one, make sure that you do what you need to for your mental health.
The difficult fact is that with cancer, it is what it is. It is a thief. It steals what we love most. In my darkest moments, I was thinking very dark thoughts. Thoughts I am not proud of, but if I don't acknowledge them, I would be dishonest. I seriously thought that it might be better if I wasn't around at all. Maybe it would spare the people I loved the sight of me disintegrating in front of them. I thought about refusing treatment and having a few great months or years and then flying to Switzerland. When I finally decided to have surgery, my wife almost broke down in tears, she said she'd have supported me whatever I decided, but I had made the choice that gave her the best chance of lumbering herself with me for the foreseeable future. That was probably the moment the light really came on. From there, once I had a plan, the job was easier, just stick with it.
Your message says that you are now on chemo and are in the plan. I hope you are in the phase of sticking with it. It ain't easy. Far more so for you on chemo, than me with surgery. With that it was a massive discomfort for six weeks and then more or less back to normal. I don't know what the treatment plan is. What I do know is that it will be a bumpy journey. You have a fantastic wife and two amazing kids. You have a reason. Anyone with a reason is lucky. I am sure that chatting to people like me on your show in a few weeks or months, is the last thing you want to think of right now, but myself and hundreds of thousands of people in London are crossing our fingers and praying for the day you come back and start insulting us again!
In a perfect world, in three years time, we'll be rapping on your show, talking about how we both have put the monster back under the bed. In the meantime hang in there. Do what you need to do. God put you here to do great things. You have done, I genuinely believe that there is more to come. The best things in life ain't easy, but we persevere. We get through. It won't be pretty, it won't be fun, but just as the darkness of night, follows the sunniest day, so the Sun rises again.
Give me love to Lisa and the boys. In some ways, it's harder for them. You know what the coup is and what you have to do. My mum had cancer when I was eight and it was awful. She was told she had 3 years maximim in 1970. She died in 2008. What her amazing surgeon, Mr Phillip King learned through her treatment changed many things in how such cancers are treated. He'd wheel her out at seminars and explain to other surgeons how they could improve survival rates. He told her "Don't despair, you live in the best era to get cancer, we can cure things now that even ten years ago were terminal". The same is true today, only a thousand times over. Give them boys a big hug and make sure they know you love them. And make sure Lisa knows how much you appreciate her. I am sure she knows you love her, but appreciation is different.
I probably won't be this nice to you again, that's not how we swing, but right now I just wanted to let you know that all of us in the Tichborne household are on your side mate.
