Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from February, 2012

Frank's Wild Years: playlist for a novel

When it comes to deferment activities – the ones that allow you to kid yourself you’re working even if you’re not actually writing – there are plenty of options. In detail mode you can always go the legitimate research route: story development, character studies, time-lining, lunchtime drinking etc. Or you can focus on those actions that are loosely and more accurately termed ‘arsing about’. On balance, you’d have to say that mentally casting your novel-in-progress as a film constitutes arsing about.
With Frank’s Wild Years three weeks from publication, I thought I’d share, if not the imaginary casting call, some songs from the accompanying soundtrack album. I put it together as a playlist around two-thirds of the way through writing the novel, adding as I went along. It was a mix of songs that inspired the writing and served as a soundscape to the story. It also played a part in evoking the world of the novel when it came to sitting down to write. As with so much music, it provided a…

The New Official Small Faces Website

So there we were, at a loss for something to do, Saturday night in the suburbs. Must have been sometime around 1987. Al and me, he played drums and me guitar in I Can't Scream. So we took that drive down towards the Blackwall Tunnel, through Eltham and Woolwich, the flames and the stink from the refinery leading the way to the Tunnel Club. It was a place for a beer, to see a band. We would have got there, say, around half-eight or nine. We got a pint - they must have cleaned the carpet because my boots weren't sticking as much as usual.
In a room the size of your average pub bar, a band were tuning up. There were maybe thirty people there. Al and me stood at the back. And that was how I came to see Stevie Marriott and his Packet of Three and witness one of the greatest gigs I've ever seen. The booze-toughened voice, on-the-money R&B guitar made for some rough-edged versions of pretty much every Humble Pie and Small Faces song anyone of us could think of requesting and …

Nothing Like the Smell of a Short Sharp Interview in the Morning

... And so it begins. In the run up to the long-awaited (by me) publication of 'Frank's Wild Years', an interview with the gentleman they call Paul D Brazill.  
Just click HERE.