Dreamers
They never learn
They never learn
Beyond, beyond the point
Of no return
Of no return
And it’s too late
The damage is done
The damage is done
This goes
Beyond me
Beyond you
The white room
By a window
Where the sun comes
Through
We are
Just happy to serve
Just happy to serve
You
“In the city there’s a thousand things I want to say to you, but whenever I approach you, you make me look a fool. I wanna say, I wanna tell you about the young ideas, but you turn them into fears. In the city there’s a thousand faces all shining bright and those golden faces are under 25. They wanna say, they gonna tell ya about the young idea. You better listen now you’ve said your bit-a. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re sick of that kind of crap, but you’d better listen man because the kids know where it’s at. In the city there’s a thousand men in uniforms. And I’ve heard they now have the right to kill a man. We wanna say, we gonna tell ya about the young idea and if it don’t work, at least we still tried In the city, in the city. In the city there’s a thousand things I want to say to you.” John Paul Weller, In the City, 1977.
A war to end all wars. To pay the ultimate sacrifice to afford freedom to others. Never forget the price paid when you see the tears flowing and the wretched signs of fear scaring the faces of those trying to escape tyranny and war. The greatness of a country is measured in the remembrance not to turn its back on the reasons why past generations laid down their lives.
Each 12″ plastic figure in a hand-stitched shroud is linked to a fatality on 1st July 1916 using records from the Commonwealth War Commission. 19240 Shrouds of the Somme, College Green, Bristol 11th -18th November 2014. Rob Heard is the artist behind the exhibition, which marks the end of the Battle of the Somme on 18th November 1916. For more information click (here)
A riverbank walk and the sights of autumn’s first gold, the leafs are changing colour and the air is distinctively chillier.
Holding my breath and counting the clouds. Inhale, exhale. The sun slowly descends tonight. I’m standing on the decking at the rear of my house, just watching the city and the skyline. I live here, and I live. The city is talking, and her whispers carry through the air. I sit on the step and just watch, listen and take this photograph.
Afternoon adventures are uncovering the places we often fail to find the time to discover. A quiet hour under the canopies of large trees. Trampling over broken branches and dried leafs, bird songs and in the distance the faint raw of city traffic. Air freshens. The smell of decay and new life contrive together to confuse the senses. Arrive at an opening with tumbled tree trunk for a seat. A flask of tea, sandwich and read a book. A profound silence descends that is only broken by the gentle breeze that stirs the trees. Close eyes, deep breath and exhale. Gather things and embark on the journey. Arrive at the broken bridge and say hello to the familiar figure standing on the other side.
On Saturday 9th July 2016 I was commissioned to photograph a rave organised by Fantazia the best known of the UK rave organisations from the 90s. The event entitled The Carnival of Peace, Love, and Unity was held at the Old Crown Courts and Cells in Bristol; please forgive the not so subtle irony for those who witnessed the legal tussle between the rave movement and legal authorities throughout the 1990s. The event attracted several thousand people, including survivors from the first wave of rave music as well as a younger audience who seemed just as hungry to enjoy the pounding beats that vibrated through the cells and outside stage until 5am the next day. Information on further Fantazia events can be found on the Fantazia Facebook Page and more photos from Saturday’s events can also be found at Flickr where ex-world snooker champion Steve Davis can be seen spinning the wheels.
A last minute decision can often lead to surprising consequences. A pleasant, if not mildly overcast day (31/5/16) had turned 
to light rain and the attraction of a lazy evening endlessly flicking through deadbeat channels seemed to be on the cards when the mobile phone rings, it’s my bud Derek with an offer of a ticket for a BC Camplight gig at The Louisiana, Bristol. There is an acceptance that neither of us is fluent in the work of BC Camplight and as Derek puts it, “it’s worth a punt.” Derek had sought, unsuccessfully to see BC Camplight last year, but circumstances had conspired to have the gig cancelled. BC Camplight is the moniker of American songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Brian Christinzio. Originally from New Jersey, Christinzio allegedly relocated to Manchester, following the advice of a fan on social media. In early 2015 Christinzio overstayed his visa permissions due to a leg injury and was made to leave the UK, resulting in the cancellation of his band’s summer tour which was to include performances at the Green Man and End of the Road festivals and an appearance on Later… with Jools Holland.
Tonight’s venue the Louis is one of those endearing venues with a knack of promoting bands on their ascendancy or providing the platform for artists who are quite content to remain below the radar appealing to a network of diehard fans who are equally content to hold onto their secret. Old gig posters are evidence of past glories, Amy Whitehouse, Florance and the Machine, Coldplay, Kasabian, Muse, The Strokes, The White Stripes, The Black Keys, Kings of Leon to name a few have trod the boards of its 140 capacity. The audience is literally standing in your face with private conversations between songs easily being picked by the performing artists and turned into amusing rounds of audience participation.
Drinks in hand we make our way up the creaking wooden staircase. Tonight’s support is provided by Grace Lightman whose performance, band, and overall delivery is solid. An intriguing mixture of low-tempo soul and jazz with a hint (and I’m sure I’m not the first to this point out) of Kate Bush lingering in the air. The set is well received and with each song Lightman grows in confidence and seems to shake off the nerves. BC Lamplight takes to the stage in rather a shambolic method. Christinzio immediately informs the audience that he is receiving electric shocks from the keyboard, which is confirmed by the sound engineer that this is due to the “cheap gear” the group is using. It is also easy to detect that most, if not all the band, are the less for wear from their London gig, which turned into an extended birthday party for Christinzio at a student’s flat. The first song is interrupted by individual band members seeking alterations to instruments and sound. Even Christinzio is seen to be crawling under his keyboards adjusting wire, with shouts emerging, along with the occasional electric shock. The sound is not brilliant, but the character of a gifted artist and band is ingrained in the ability to manoeuvre around obstacles, even if most are self-made obstacles. BC Camplight does this with ease given the depth of talent on the stage, along with the rich material at their disposal. A fair chunk of the songs tonight I later learn are harvested from the band’s latest album ‘How to Die in the North.’
Performance wise I can hear an array of influences from Springsteen, The Beatles, The Beach Boys. Derek identifies Harry Nilsson influences. They are all there mashed up in chaotic beauty. Whilst an assortment of booze is exchanged between band members Christinzio announces to the audience that he is staying in the local Travel Lodge. Room 26, “if some young adventurer is interested in a little post sordid birthday celebration.” A male member of the audience shouts out, “what if my wife finds out.” Christinzio replies without missing a beat, “Did I say room 30.” Overall a gem of a gig and if you get the opportunity to witness BC Camplight live I suggest you take it.
Irregular Frequencies 