Filed under: Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Childhood, Context, Corporate Evil, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, England, Entertainment, Football, Mediocrity, Music, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Paul, Queen, Sentimentality, Sport, World Cup
Recently I came across this photo of the old Wembley being demolished …
And while I know the new stadium is better – albeit with terrible wifi/phone signal access, which is ironic given it’s sponsored by O2 – there was something about that photo that made me sad.
Of course it’s because I’m a sentimental fart.
Because despite seeing my beloved Nottingham Forest gain promotion in the new stadium, that old one has even more significant memories for me.
Live Aid.
Seeing Queen there.
And the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert.
Not to mention Bruce Springsteen, Madonna and countless other bands and singers.
Then there’s watching Brian Clough lead Nottingham Forest out for their various cup finals.
There was something magical about that old stadium when I was growing up.
It was the pinnacle. Where World Cups and Legends were celebrated and made.
And while there were other venues around the World that could lay claim to a similar standing … this was mine. In England. In our capital. A way to reinforce that for all the Madison Square Gardens and Giant Stadiums out there, we had ours. We still mattered. A bit.
Now I should point out I’m not saying this from a xenophobic ‘ENG-GER-LAND’ perspective … I mean it more in the same way I viewed Raleigh Bikes in Nottingham.
And while we replaced Wembley with a new and improved version – which is far more than Raleigh managed to do – there’s something about that photo that still hurts.
Not because I don’t love change – because even though I’m a sentimental, old fart, I do – but maybe because the replacement feels a bit soulless. Designed to look the part without ever really demonstrating they understand what it takes to be the part. Efficiency over character. Optimisation over soul. Money over memory.
I get this is probably only felt by people of a certain age.
I get the times have changed and so Wembley is not as unique as it once was.
But what shapes our identity is often the weird, the inconvenient and the personal symbols of possibility … and somewhere along the line, we’ve been made to think these aren’t as important as efficiency and complicity. Of course the irony of this thinking is that this is the sort of shit that is keeping us down rather than lifting us up.
Or maybe that’s exactly what some people intend it to do.
Jesus, I’ve become a conspiracy theorist now. That’s all we need.
See you tomorrow. Unless the FBI pick me up before then.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Audio Visual, Authenticity, Childhood, Content, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Freddie, Queen
So very soon, a bunch of Freddie Mercury’s belongings are going to be sold at auction.
And yes, I will be bidding on some … albeit the cheapest stuff that is available.
But if I could, there’s stuff I’d love to have.
From the shoes Freddie wore during Live Aid [which is 38 years today] to the royal cloak and crown he wore on the last Queen tour in 1986 to this …
What you see is one of the pages Freddie used to construct the lyrics and song structure for Bohemian Rhapsody.
The scribbles, the word changes [for example, originally it was going to be called Mongolian Rhapsody] the different keys he saw different parts of the song being performed in.
How amazing is that.
What is even more amazing is that it’s all on a 1974 calendar deskpad for British Midland Timesavers – which, I assume, was an airline.
Maybe he got it because originally, he worked at an airport as a baggage handler.
Maybe he got it because his parents ended up moving to Nottingham, which is near East Midland’s Airport.
But whatever the reason, for a song that will exist in culture for eternity … it’s pretty amazing it all started on some random notepad.
More than that, there are other songs that also appear on that pad … for example Somebody To Love … which proves what Queen fans have thought for decades, that they are ‘sister songs’ … and then the classic We Are The Champions, which didn’t even get recorded by the band until 3 years later.
Or said another way, one innocuous pad of paper captured three songs that went on to achieve iconic status across generations and genres.
I love it.
Not just because I’m a Queen fan, but it proves imagination and inspiration can be triggered and caught anywhere.
Sure, not everyone will achieve the same quality or impact as Freddie did, but in a world where we are trying to systemize every aspect of creativity … it’s a good reminder that for all the processes, eco-systems, models and frameworks, if we recognize, embrace, develop, work on and trust our imagination, we may find we can start creating ideas that transcend whatever the latest ‘best practice model’ can only wish for.
Not just because best practice is past practice … but because it’s goal is consistency whereas imagination is about liberation.
Now if only I had 1.2 million pounds …
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Bands, Bangkok Shakes, Childhood, Culture, Music, Nottingham, Paul, Queen, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
When I was a kid in Nottingham, there were 3 independent record shops I continually went to.
WayAhead, Rob’s Records and Selectadisc.
OK, part of this was because there were no major record shops in Nottingham at that time – Our Price, Virgin and HMV all arrived [and left] years later – so unless you were happy with the extremely limited range available in Boots, they were your only options.
Not that they were a ‘lesser’ experience to the big chains. Far from it.
In fact WayAhead became my Mecca because it was a pure rock and metal store. The only one in Nottingham … a place that loved the music rather than just sold it. A place – when I look back – that not only helped forge my identity as a teen, but gave me a space where I could feel safe and supported in it.
It’s also the location where I queued up all night just to ensure I could get Queen tickets for their Works Tour. So the memories are deep and strong.
Rob’s Records was a second hand store up a small alley called Hurts Yard.
WayAhead used to be a few doors down, but they moved to a much bigger location when [1] metal music became mass in the mid-80’s and [2] the shop couldn’t fit customers in because too many people were crammed around the Pinball table and Track and Field arcade game that was in the front of their store. [See photo above]
But I digress …
To be honest, Rob’s Records was a shambles.
Messy … cramped … records stacked tight in big boxes and plastic bins placed literally all over the place. But it had cheap records so I’d find myself in there searching for some rare Queen albums or singles… normally after having a fried chicken lunch from the place that was a cut-price KFC in name, cleanliness and taste.
And then there was Selectadisc.
Set over 2 floors, it was the music lovers, music shop.
A dimly lit, warm cocoon that incubated you from the world outside.
In fact, it was considered an institution by record/vinyl fans all over the world thanks to its continued support for new and up and coming bands.
That said I didn’t love it … it loved The Smiths for a start … but it did have a lot of variety. It also had a great noticeboard where people could put up ads … especially for musicians for bands. We found our first singer, Rob Reid, from an ad we put up there … someone who helped give me some of the best times of my teens and who I am still in touch with to this day.
All of these places were like a wonderland to me.
I may have entered from the street, but I found myself on a different planet.
I would spend hours there on a Saturday… listening, talking, looking, reading. Occasionally even buying.
And while Rob’s Records and Selectadisc didn’t offer me the same community as WayAhead … they mattered to me. A lot.
Sadly, only Rob’s Records remain … but what caused me to write this post is because I recently saw a photo of the upstairs of Selectadisc and it stopped me in my tracks.
Not because of the memories it ignited.
Nor because of the state of it.
But because of its size.
Specifically, how small it was.
I appreciate when you’re younger you overestimate size … but this wasn’t when I was a child, I was in my teens.
And even though it wasn’t my fave record shop, I still remember it like it was a Cathedral of Sound.
Maybe it was because it was bigger than both WayAhead and Rob’s Records.
Maybe it was because it was on 2 floors where the others were just on one.
Or maybe it was because it offered me an escape from normal life to a place that was filled with sound and people who shared a similar love to it as me.
There’s never been a place like those record shops for me.
The closest was Funan Mall in Singapore – a whole building dedicated to selling electronics and gadgets.
A place where I could happily spend hours just looking at the latest new tech that had come in from China … where Jill sent me to after I’d proposed so I could calm down from the intense emotions of the morning.
But even then … even with all that … those 3 record shops in Nottingham will be where a part of my soul resides.
A place that was educational, recreational, and experiential.
Society is worse off without these places.
Yes, I know culturally they have been replaced by a bunch of other places – from the barbers shop to the chicken shop – but records shop were more than a place to hang and talk, they were a place where you grew.
So even though this photo of Selectadisc highlights how small it actually was … it’s impact on who I was remains huge.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Cannes, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Holiday, Jill, Love, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Parents, Paul, Paula, Planners, Planning, Queen, Shelly
So let’s start with the good news …
This is my last post until the 26th June.
That’s over 2 weeks of peace and quiet!!!
You lucky people. [Though who knows if anyone reads this now comments have stopped]
The bad news is this post is going to be loooooooong. Proper long.
And possibly ‘jealousy inducing’ … or at least insult igniting, given the blagging I’ll be acknowledging.
But there are valid reasons behind it all. Honest.
First up is that I have a bunch of birthday’s to acknowledge …
First of all is mine, because on Monday, I turn 53.
FIFTY FUCKING THREE!
This means I am closer to 70 than 30 …
Normally that would be depressing as fuck, but I was recently given the best present ever when Metallica’s management said I was, “immune from maturity”.
Of course, I appreciate under normal circumstances this would be a big diss, however at my age – and when they represent genuine Rockstars – this may be the best compliment ever.
Let’s be honest, it’s going to have to be because there’s not many more reasons to be happy.
But 3 days later, it’s my darling Jill’s birthday.
Whereas I get more immature with age, she gets more wonderful.
I wish that was simply my attempt at being a romantic husband … but she really is.
I would love to detail how, but as I’ve mentioned before – she hates the attention on her, especially on this blog – so just know it makes me very happy to see because she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and is more than I deserve.
Happy birthday my darling Jill, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day.
Now you may think I have suddenly become a soppy-sod – and I am OK with that – but you may feel a bit differently when I tell you that on the night of Jill’s birthday, where most people would be having a celebratory dinner – I will be waving goodbye to her, getting on a plane and flying to England because the next day it’s …
Paul’s birthday.
That’s right, for the first time since 2020, I’ll be spending Paul’s birthday with him and seeing him and Shelly for the first time in over a year.
I’m so, so happy I can do that. I’m also so excited to see them.
The older I get, the more I want to be closer to them – even though I appreciate how ironic it is to say that when I have chosen to live just about as far away from them as I possibly can.
Who knows what will happen in the future to change that [actually, I do, I just don’t know when] but I’m thrilled I’m going to get to spend Paul’s special day with him and hang out with him and Shelly for a few days.
That I get to be with 2 of my most special and treasured people on their birthday .. means that however hard 2023 is, it is going to be a great year for me.
Thank god for horrific timezone difference between NZ and UK.
Which all leads to the final journey of my blog silence …
And that is me leaving Nottingham to fly to Cannes to present on stage with 2 more special and treasured people – Paula Bloodworth and Martin Weigel.
Like Paul, the last time I saw them in person was a year ago, so to not just see them … but present with them … is an utter thrill.
I say that, but at the time of writing this post, we have only written 4 slides so unless we pull our finger out, it may be a case of being happy to see them but a total nightmare to present with them – hahaha.
And finally, as much as Cannes can drive me nuts, it gives me an opportunity to see a bunch of old friends from my past which will be bloody wonderful – especially as George and Lee will be there and so it can feel like I’ve let comments back on this blog, haha.
So there you have it.
That’s why I’m not writing any posts for a couple of weeks.
And while some of you will claim its a massive holiday, it’s actually me reconnecting to life.
That’s honestly how it feels.
I appreciate that sounds overly dramatic … after all, it’s not like I don’t talk to them all pretty much every week.
And obviously, in the case of Jill, I get to see here every single day.
I also appreciate the privilege of being able to fly over there to see the rest of them – not to mention I am the one who put myself in the position of being away from them.
But this is more than just being in their physical company – which will be special in itself – it’s about the undivided time.
No zoom time limits … or snatched moments before the next interruption … actual time.
Time to go on endless tangents.
Time to go down multiple rabbitholes.
Time to enjoy the pregnant pauses.
Time to talk shit … rather than maximise the time allocated. Or allowed.
Time to be cocooned away from the other stuff that likes to interrupt and dictate.
And while many may think they get this every day, I’m not so sure.
Yes, being physically close to people you care about does – in theory – make this easier to do.
But proximity doesn’t automatically equate to intimacy.
You have to want it. Demand it. Not be satisfied with a different version of it.
And most of the time that’s not the case …
We don’t even realise it’s happening because we get so caught up in the whirlwind of life.
Dealing with the pressures, demands, expectation and – for some – the self-importance of our own lives.
And that’s why there is something to be said about living away from those that matter.
I know … that sounds the opposite of what I’ve just written … but hang in there.
You see I used to think the benefit of living around the world was that you could discover and explore possibilities you never knew even existed … let alone were actually possible.
And it’s true.
I’m not exaggerating when I say everything I have in my life – outside of Paul and Shelley – is because I chose to explore the world rather than stay in Nottingham,.
Every. Single. Thing.
That doesn’t mean people who stay where they are from can’t also discover new possibilities, but it’s definitely going to be harder which is why I will be forever grateful for the opportunity – and my naivety – to go and explore what life was made of, despite not having the faintest idea of what I was doing.
It’s why I always tell people who have been offered the chance to live overseas that they shouldn’t let the things they’ll miss, hold them back … instead, they should think about all the things they may discover.
And I still stand by that.
But of course, missing the people you love is a big thing.
A huge thing.
I definitely missed my parents every single day and I went through a lot of emotional challenges on that journey.
But I was also extremely lucky my parents wanted me to explore.
Of course they missed me.
Of course they would have loved me to be closer.
But they wanted me to forge my own life, not be restrained by theirs, which is an act of love that still takes my breath away.
Even more so when they could have – and maybe should have – asked me to stay, given my Dad’s health situation that happened 6 weeks before I was due to leave for Australia.
I offered.
I meant it.
But they said no … and I swear it’s because they knew if I didn’t go then, I may never go at all.
That’s just so typical of my parents … always wanting the best for me while also understanding the reality of me.
And while part of this was them having faith in the values they’d taught me – for example, chase a life of fulfillment, not contentment – I think another part is they realised something I’ve only just started to discover.
Distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, it makes your relationships more present.
Greater focus, awareness and understanding on what makes you work together. The confidence to dismiss the differences that stand in the way of your connection. The willingness to be vulnerable – not just to enable greater intimacy – but to acknowledge their desire to want to help you, even if you feel they shouldn’t need to. And an openness to the uncomfortable in the knowledge, you’re not being judged … you’re reaching out.
I appreciate this all sounds like a post-rationalisation for being away from the ones I love and care about.
And maybe a bit is.
But as I’ve said before, creating space so the people who matter get the best of me rather than what is left of me is important.
It’s not easy.
It comes with challenges and sacrifices.
But while proximity keeps you near, maybe – just maybe – distance helps close the gap.
See you in a couple of weeks.
Filed under: Bands, Birthday, Brand, Comment, Freddie, Management, Marketing, Music, Queen
Today would have been Freddie’s 77th birthday.
That’s almost as crazy as the fact he has been gone 32 years.
And yet his fame may have never been so high as it is now.
Yes … I appreciate this has been ‘managed’ and certain ‘iconography’ has been drip-fed into society … but for someone dead, he doesn’t half feel alive.
A biopic movie [albeit with a to of creative licence] that made a billion dollars.
A Greatest Hits album that is the biggest selling album of all time in the UK.
More ‘billion played’ songs on Spotify than any other artist in the world.
Countless books, TV shows and tribute acts … where they always feature Freddie in his ‘yellow jacket’ phase, despite that being when he was more performer than rockstar.
Regardless what you think about the optimisation of Freddie as a ‘brand’ in modern culture, you have to say it has been brilliantly done.
I can’t think of many celebrities who achieved the same level of cultural presence, 3 decades after they died.
And he’s only going to be more in our daily lives as the auction of his personal belongings starts in a few days.
Of course, I can imagine Freddie would love it.
When he was close to death, he called the band manager – Jim Beach – and said this to him:
“You can use my image, music and memory in any way you choose … just don’t make me boring”.
Given he is more present than many people alive and on our screens, it’s safe to say mission accomplished.
Happy 77th Freddie. You’re missed even though you’re around.