He’s was never a Worder but this reminds me of the time Paul Morley stalked me for a month, 20 years ago.
I know it was 20 years ago because that was last time I travelled to New York*. He was in front of me at the tills at the Heathrow Departures branch of Dixons (now long defunct U.K. electrical retailers). I can’t remember what he was buying but I was buying earphones.
‘That’s Paul Morley’. I thought.
Later, on the flight to New York, I saw him chatting to someone, centre aisle. Oh. He’s on the same flight as me’. I thought.
Two weeks later and I was once again back in the U.K. At The Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith at a Richard Thompson show. I was at the bar getting a beer. Standing along the wall, by himself, nursing a bottle of his own was Paul Morley. ‘Oh, that’s… etc’
A further week later and I was walking past The Lyceum Theatre heading for The Strand when coming up from The Strand towards me was Mark Ellen.
No it wasn’t. It was Paul F*****g Morley.
We’ve never seen each other since. Not for the want of him trying though.
Stood next to Stuart Maconie at a pub bar in that London. He was in conversation, and my Guinness arrived before I had the chance to say “You’re Stuart Maconie”
(which I think he already knew his name anyway)
I don’t know if Jerry Ewing (editor of Prog magazine) contributes here, but I sat opposite him on the Tube after a Todd Rundgren gig at Hammersmith, and another time, was in the “King Charles 1 “ pub in King’s Cross expounding loudly on music to a pal. In both cases, my polite attempts to join his conversation were blanked.
I sat next to a bloke once at a Siouxsie and the Banshees gig in 1978. He was scribbling away in a notebook. He told me he was a journalist and worked for the NME. It was Paul Du Noyer. I told him what I thought of Nick Kent and he replied that Nick Kent was a friend of his. The conversation ended there.
Kate coincidentally is the guest on this week’s Adam Buxton podcast. I haven’t heard it yet but will do so over what’s left of the Easter weekend. Buckles is usually a very good interviewer, so looking forward to it.
I’m currently spending my ‘holiday’ jet-washing my garden path. I’m going to listen to it this afternoon whilst I endure further hours of mind-numbing tedium.
I stood behind John Peel in the queue at HMV Oxford Street years ago. He was buying In Utero by Nirvana. I thought it slightly odd as I thought all DJs got records for free.
I did a similar thing with Dave Gilmour in West London once a few years back. I was so shocked to see him I followed him vaguely for about three minutes down the road before coming to my senses and taking off sharpish in the opposite direction.
I bought John Peel and all of The Faces a round of drinks in a pub off Aldwych.
(edit, they were all very pissed and for some strange reason laughed at my generous offer)
I once bought Duran Duran and their girlfriends a round of drinks. They hadn’t released a record yet. They all had Martinis. I was a poor student. I remind Simon he owes me a drink every time I see him (just the once so far in 45 years).
I was at a Stone Foundation gig at Shepherds Bush 2017 and stood next to Paolo Hewitt , said hello and told him I enjoyed his book on Weller that i’d finished the night before. Wasn’t sure how he’d take the mention of Weller after their falling out, but he was fine.
I once earwigged a conversation between Mark Ellen and Alan Jones – they were about to host a panel on getting into music journalism. Boy they put the world to rights over a swift pint.
I saw Mark Ellen & his GLW at an Eagles gig at Wembley, they also were in the same carriage on the tube going back into London, they never stopped talking to each other so I never butted in to say hello.
Just reading one of Heppy’s books and he mentions visiting the Pioneer cinema in Dewsbury to see A Hard Day’s Night which was the cinema I visited too.
The Hepstar is four or five years older than me so it’s possible I rubbed shoulders with a very young Hep or saw him in Caddy’s ice-cream parlour.
At Glossop Record Club he was talking about one of his books, when it was opened to questions I asked where he bought his records when younger and”What’s the best ice-cream in the world? ” he answered “Caddy’s”. I think he was a tad bemused until I explained at the end when signing books that I’d lived in the next town.
I got Mark Ellen backstage after he’d forgotten his pass at Cornbury. He did then introduce me to Robyn Hitchcock and Peter Buck, so fair’s fair.
We were there as the Rock Dads band which we were enormously pleased about. When I went to a book reading by David Hepworth some years later and mentioned that we’d met before he didn’t have a clue what we were on about.
About 25 years ago I was walking down New Row from St Martins Lane towards Covent Garden when I passed a thin man in a tweed jacket with outsize glasses pushing a ‘sit up and beg’ Dutch-style bicycle. ‘That was Jarvis Cocker’ I thought to myself as I carried on walking. I imagine he thought ‘that was salwarpe’ as he continued along his way.
I was on a flight to Montreal with Mark Ellen once (he slummed it in economy) he also stood in front of me at a Stones gig at Shepherd’s Bush Empire.
Also met a few inc Ms Mossman on a boat on the Thames July 2011, but that doesn’t count as it was a Word event
He’s was never a Worder but this reminds me of the time Paul Morley stalked me for a month, 20 years ago.
I know it was 20 years ago because that was last time I travelled to New York*. He was in front of me at the tills at the Heathrow Departures branch of Dixons (now long defunct U.K. electrical retailers). I can’t remember what he was buying but I was buying earphones.
‘That’s Paul Morley’. I thought.
Later, on the flight to New York, I saw him chatting to someone, centre aisle. Oh. He’s on the same flight as me’. I thought.
Two weeks later and I was once again back in the U.K. At The Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith at a Richard Thompson show. I was at the bar getting a beer. Standing along the wall, by himself, nursing a bottle of his own was Paul Morley. ‘Oh, that’s… etc’
A further week later and I was walking past The Lyceum Theatre heading for The Strand when coming up from The Strand towards me was Mark Ellen.
No it wasn’t. It was Paul F*****g Morley.
We’ve never seen each other since. Not for the want of him trying though.
* 20 years. Bloody Hell.
Saw him in the Virgin Megastore on Oxford St once, but that was it for me
Crikey! It looks like the restraining order worked, though.
Stood next to Stuart Maconie at a pub bar in that London. He was in conversation, and my Guinness arrived before I had the chance to say “You’re Stuart Maconie”
(which I think he already knew his name anyway)
I saw that Phil Bryer in a pub in London a couple of weeks ago. Admittedly, that’s where we’d arranged to meet, but still…
I don’t know if Jerry Ewing (editor of Prog magazine) contributes here, but I sat opposite him on the Tube after a Todd Rundgren gig at Hammersmith, and another time, was in the “King Charles 1 “ pub in King’s Cross expounding loudly on music to a pal. In both cases, my polite attempts to join his conversation were blanked.
I’ve never met him but, based on his editorials, he’s part of the reason that progressive music is now PROG…
…and not in a good way…
I DISKARD THEM
…utterly…
I sat next to a bloke once at a Siouxsie and the Banshees gig in 1978. He was scribbling away in a notebook. He told me he was a journalist and worked for the NME. It was Paul Du Noyer. I told him what I thought of Nick Kent and he replied that Nick Kent was a friend of his. The conversation ended there.
Kate coincidentally is the guest on this week’s Adam Buxton podcast. I haven’t heard it yet but will do so over what’s left of the Easter weekend. Buckles is usually a very good interviewer, so looking forward to it.
It’s a very good episode and have just read a “Men of a Certain Age” by Kate which had me in tears of both the sad and happy variety.
I’m currently spending my ‘holiday’ jet-washing my garden path. I’m going to listen to it this afternoon whilst I endure further hours of mind-numbing tedium.
I stood behind John Peel in the queue at HMV Oxford Street years ago. He was buying In Utero by Nirvana. I thought it slightly odd as I thought all DJs got records for free.
I stood next to John Peel at the Cambridge Junction while Dick Dale was performing. He was in tears.
Was it that bad?
I line ’em up, you knock ’em down.
I followed Peel and The Pig down The Walk in Ipswich over 40 years ago, when I was living in the town.
(Not stalking, honest – they just happened to be ahead of me and going in the same direction…)
I did a similar thing with Dave Gilmour in West London once a few years back. I was so shocked to see him I followed him vaguely for about three minutes down the road before coming to my senses and taking off sharpish in the opposite direction.
But I wasn’t actively following the Peels, @slotbadger, I was heading homewards from the town centre!
Yeah I was also going in the same direction as DG until I realised I wasn’t!
I bought John Peel and all of The Faces a round of drinks in a pub off Aldwych.
(edit, they were all very pissed and for some strange reason laughed at my generous offer)
I once bought Duran Duran and their girlfriends a round of drinks. They hadn’t released a record yet. They all had Martinis. I was a poor student. I remind Simon he owes me a drink every time I see him (just the once so far in 45 years).
I was at a Stone Foundation gig at Shepherds Bush 2017 and stood next to Paolo Hewitt , said hello and told him I enjoyed his book on Weller that i’d finished the night before. Wasn’t sure how he’d take the mention of Weller after their falling out, but he was fine.
I once earwigged a conversation between Mark Ellen and Alan Jones – they were about to host a panel on getting into music journalism. Boy they put the world to rights over a swift pint.
I might steer my kids into many careers but music journalism – no.
That might as well dance about architecture.
I saw Mark Ellen & his GLW at an Eagles gig at Wembley, they also were in the same carriage on the tube going back into London, they never stopped talking to each other so I never butted in to say hello.
Just reading one of Heppy’s books and he mentions visiting the Pioneer cinema in Dewsbury to see A Hard Day’s Night which was the cinema I visited too.
The Hepstar is four or five years older than me so it’s possible I rubbed shoulders with a very young Hep or saw him in Caddy’s ice-cream parlour.
At Glossop Record Club he was talking about one of his books, when it was opened to questions I asked where he bought his records when younger and”What’s the best ice-cream in the world? ” he answered “Caddy’s”. I think he was a tad bemused until I explained at the end when signing books that I’d lived in the next town.
He signed my copy of Hope I Get Old Before I Die at Petworth Literary Festival. He was more chatty than I expected.
Oh he’s very “London” now …
Yeah. When Q magazine decided to have always been into football (around Italia 90) he decided he was a Spurs fan. Strange, for a Yorkshire boy…
I stood behind Mark Ellen to get a beer back in the days when The Word magazine had a stand at the Cornbury Festival in the 2000’s
I got Mark Ellen backstage after he’d forgotten his pass at Cornbury. He did then introduce me to Robyn Hitchcock and Peter Buck, so fair’s fair.
We were there as the Rock Dads band which we were enormously pleased about. When I went to a book reading by David Hepworth some years later and mentioned that we’d met before he didn’t have a clue what we were on about.
About 25 years ago I was walking down New Row from St Martins Lane towards Covent Garden when I passed a thin man in a tweed jacket with outsize glasses pushing a ‘sit up and beg’ Dutch-style bicycle. ‘That was Jarvis Cocker’ I thought to myself as I carried on walking. I imagine he thought ‘that was salwarpe’ as he continued along his way.
Either that or “The thirst for knowledge is strong in that one”.
Funnily enough, I had* just been to see a Newton-John/Travolta musical.
*’nt
I saw him riding the bike on Charing Cross Road once. It was about 30 degrees, but he was dressed for deepest winter.