An Audience with Steve Harley - The Space, Brighton – 1st April 2010

Last night a Titanic sailed into Brighton; well we suspect he drove but that doesn’t make for any form of analogy with Steve’s songs. If the Titanic sailed in we positively crawled out and eventually got home at a ridiculous hour... ....it was a definitely a small number.

Our journey down to Brighton, as you would expect, was not without incident. Deborah managed to get lost (again) getting to Karen’s house and half of SE London was on the road as we battled to pick up Denise in Tesco’s car park in Lewisham. Eventually, though, we were on the road in bright sunshine – five minutes later, the skies darkened, the heavens opened, we had to put the car lights on and Karen was regretting not bringing a coat. The world and his wife seemed to be heading for the south coast town but despite this we made good time and nipped into the only vacant and free parking spot 100yds from the venue, after one teensy weensy bus lane incident when both the Sat Nav and the co-pilot (sack ‘em both) instructed the driver to go left, when straight on would not have incurred the massive fine that’s probably going to land on the doormat next week! Ha! But it is refreshing to know that we are not the only ones who are directionally challenged and can’t work a sat nav – more of this anon. A quick cup of coffee in a local Tapas Bar turned into an impromptu feast and then we popped down to the venue.

What an amazing little place The Space is and what lovely people who run it. It’s hard to describe but imagine an underground concrete vault, entrance not unlike the stairs to a tube station although brighter and much more welcoming, with twists and turns at the bottom through a bar area and eventually opening out into,.....well... a space (hence the name). Used to hold conferences, art exhibitions, a little music and events like yesterdays’, the long narrow room is set out theatre style around a huge red couch. They have deployed every height of chair available to afford each of the eager audience members a view. Cabaret style tables to the front, chairs behind and then rows of bar stools, finally a huge 4 foot high wooden topped banquette runs the length of the room and is festooned with huge brightly coloured cushions. This is where we shall sit – anyone got a step ladder?  In-house photographer and film cameramen have taken their positions close by.

Lisa Holloway is the interviewer, she has a sheaf of prompt papers and has clearly researched with a path she wishes to tread – but she is interviewing a wandering minstrel who manages to take us on one of his timeless flights. Once lights and mics are adjusted and the spotlight is more subtle, he relaxes.

Connections to the area are deep rooted and Steve transports us on a journey to Brighton or is it Hove (sat navs! – glad we’re not the only ones who get confused by the things or are geographically challenged!) in the early 50’s to the time where Dad worked hard to bring in the pennies and keep the wolf from the door and  Nanny minded the older kids, whilst the new ones came along and then that devastating dirty water brought in a disease that struck down and shaped a boy in a matter of cruel moments. Steve reminded us of the times he’d spent in Carshalton Beeches; the influences of a lifetime are clear to see; reminded of the inspiration of a Hero! But no ordinary hero, coloured vividly in the lyrics of that 4th album and in a small hospital bedside cabinet was Steve’s life at that time. Pens, paper, books! Poetry books, home work sent out, and returned additional and extracurricular reading from a much respected teacher and, later in life, friend;  Hemingway , F. Scott Fitzgerald  Shakespeare, all authors to inspire this young man.

Back to the future

That very afternoon Steve had set of with his own sat nav to re visit some childhood memories and find  Nanny and Grandpops’s Edwardian House, that used to back on to the golf course in Hangleton Road. Missing a parking space by way of a fifteen minute detour, he finally arrived, as fate would have it, outside the address at the same time of the return of the current occupier, who Steve  discovered, whilst reminiscing,  was in fact, a man of the cloth, complete with dog collar, and who informed the stranger that had come to town that a lot had changed ! and that Steve’s grandmother would not have approved of  the changes.

More insights into the chosen name Cockney Rebel.  A poem, rescued from the depths of aforementioned bed side cabinet, which required  periodic clearing out by devoted mother, ( we can see her now staggering down New Cross Road with carrier bags full of teenage son’s latest scribblings )  
From one of these bags a long lost poem was eventually unearthed.  On reflection the poem itself was deemed, by the author as not worthy of salvage (in his words crap) but the title of this piece was another matter! and so the band acquired its name. Cockney Rebel was born.  Queried on the validity of his Cockney and/or rebel status; it has been noted that he is neither a cockney nor a rebel he argues that Neil Young is neither crazy nor a horse. He rests his case.

Tales of busking around Marble Arch with the not so catchy tunes filled us with laughter and nostalgia, unlike his guitar case which remained empty.  Then tales of how a young reporter showed signs of increasing empathy with the plight of those whose misfortunes he was required to highlight, increasingly at odds with the cynicism of the profession, growing  weary and, with advice from the union,  he ditched the tie,  grew the hair and waited for the inevitable ! at this point we must point out we have now raided Karen’s massive but hardly touched drinks cabinet and are now on Disaronno and Chambord ! (Marzipan and raspberry tipples ) no guarantee for the coherence of the rest of this report!

On to horseracing ; we discover that our once a year 50p flutter on the Grand National is tantamount to being betting teetotallers, and that ‘not a gambler’ also applies to the three or four times a week considered bet (collective gasp from audience). We are taking mental notes on how to accumulate the dosh as Steve explains the unexplained and the hidden treasure trail that followed Cockney Rebel’s success... sneaky late night on-line betting armed ( or fuelled ) with a bottle of red is guaranteed to make you wish you’d noted down which on line bookies you’d opened a midnight account with!! Following the trail of destruction to recover the rewards, took others some time! Make mental note to jot down names of bookies and passwords in future! Another audience request to give us a clue, or tip on racing!  Steve hands out a Grand National tip – which we’d share, with you all but neither of us can remember the name of the pigeon catcher!!!!.... duh!

Questions  follow on Steve’s own musical heroes and he shines as he talks of the likes of Smokey Robinson, Tammy Tyrell, the Beatles, more up to date Radiohead  and of course the modern poet of our time, the one and only Bob Dylan.

Harley at his animated best graphically and uniquely describes some of the Scandinavian covers of his own Make Me Smile and we are in stitches.

And so....

Step into the light Steve Harley and out the shadows emerges Barry Wickens the boy from the Isle of Wight who now calls Brighton his home, unaware of what is to come.

Steve touches all with his tale of those in foreign lands, with guitar in hand and head held high, he takes us through deep cold water and the struggle to survive the dark nights and bought tears rolling down Deborah’s face as thoughts as  parent and her own son runs though her mind,  This Old Man leaves a powerful and lasting impression acoustically,  just as it did when we first heard the song  as played by the full band in Germany.

True love will find you in the end ...the wonderful Daniel Johnston cover that has been chosen to be included on the much awaited, forthcoming album, brings hope and a lift to this emotional air that fills the space. And you should have seen the look on Barry’s and Steve’s face when the inevitable request comes through and they  realise that they might have to do ‘that song’ with just Steve’s guitar and Barry’s violin – gulp!. Cheer up guys – you could swap instruments?  But like the maestros they are they launch forth and Barry conjures up the Make Me Smile guitar solo on violin with consummate ease and much to Steve’s amusement (and ours!) See! It’s NEVER the same twice! They bring the house down! Excellent!

Part two of the evening.... after Deborah insists they should stay and see Ashley Pharoah , as Denise want to make a sharp exit  after the Man had left the Room and Karen doesn’t mind either way! Deb explains excitedly that she’s been talking to Paul Mex, The Space Technical Director, and had enquired why they were listening to David Bowie’s Ashes To Ashes  and not Steve Harley’s masterpieces!  She was given the explanation that the  writer of Ashes to Ashes and Life on Mars is going to be sharing the sofa with Lisa Holloway, after Steve Harley , and that he was really an interesting   guy !!! Well worth staying for! Oh so that’s why they’re playing Bowie and not Harley!  – oh! Really? I thought Bowie wrote them himself!

Denise and Karen try to tell Deb that it’s the writer of the TV series Ashes to Ashes and Life on Mars!!!  But she doesn’t know what they’re talking about! She don’t get out much and don’t watch a lot of telly! so she’s having none of it ‘til he appears and it is........ the writer of the TV series.

Deb and Karen are fascinated – he collaborates on his writing with another. They sit together in a room bouncing ideas off each other, debating a word, a nuance, the interpretation..... this sound so familiar! As here we sit together in a room bouncing ideas off each other, debating a word, a nuance, the interpretation...... Wonder if they get through as many liqueurs as well....?

Finally it’s all over and we have some special people to thank – Firstly Steve Harley and Barry for thrilling us and the rest of the audience with a night to remember and what’s more they did it for free to support the venue. Then there’s Andy Moreton, Wayne Imms, Paul Mex (for confusing Deborah) and John who came up with the goods and sent three very happy Harley fans back to London clutching a precious and unique poster apiece.
PS. Deborah won one of the prizes in the raffle –  No it wasn’t the Harley prizes, nor the boxed set of Ashes to Ashes and Life on Mars, or any Bowie record, nor the massage, but the highly useful (for one who lives in Northampton) free, year-long membership to The Space and various other discount offers to be taken in and around Brighton. Never one to throw up an opportunity she has been on-line today checking out the estate agents offerings in Sussex. Have ticket must move!