Steve Harley

& Cockney Rebel

Steve's Online Diary

DIARY 10/06/11

  • Written by Steve Harley
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I’ve been a fan lately. Eurostar to Brussels to see Yusuf. He played a beautiful set, made up mostly of Cat Stevens’ Greatest Hits, and you couldn’t ask for more really. Great band with him.  Alun Davies back with him on acoustic guitar was especially good to see. Yusuf introduced him as “one of my best friends”. They took “a holiday” for Ruby, My Love, with Greek island seascapes on the big backdrop and the bazouki parts were played in brilliant harmony by guitarist Eric Appapoulay on mandolin and percussionist Kwame Yeboah on 12-string guitar. After the show, I spoke to Yusuf about in-ear monitors and why doesn’t he wear them. Like all of us of a certain age, he found them difficult to get used to, but I pressed him to persevere. They are a singer’s saviour. Yusuf had his beautiful wife and two teenage kids with him, and there was much good feeling back there. The canon of work he has to choose from is enormous and brilliant. He is one of the greatest writers the music industry has seen, in any generation, at any time. Played the Forest National, a circular arena, capacity close to 7,000, and it looked close to full to my eyes. We got close to selling it out in the mid-70s. Not today, sorry to admit. I felt pangs, the sort of wistful day-dreaming we get in reminiscing of other, better times. Today is good, too, though, and I relish every minute of my professional life.


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DIARY 12/05/11

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Went to ITV on the South Bank for a chat with the production people of a new series, starting June, I think, of Popstar To Operastar. Don’t ask why, although I must admit to a little curiosity after counselling opinion from my agent and a couple of other respected industry judges. Maybe I just wanted to know how I would respond if offered a part. I was always 95% certain I would make my excuses. Never saw a moment of last year’s first series, but checked YouTube clips and it struck me beyond doubt as down-market TV, masquerading as middle-brow, for those who need it – I don’t. As it happens, we were kept waiting almost half-an-hour past the agreed time to meet in their lobby, received a pitiful apology only after my assistant pointed out that we might like a cup of tea, and an explanation. Many readers here would be amazed, rocked, to know the state of play these days among the Production offices of such companies and such shows. Either way, I never did have to make a decision. They didn’t even have the courtesy to let my office know the chosen ones! Just drifted. Incredible! But I got a little adventure out of it, and never, ever felt comfortable with the idea of accepting, if offered. Could have been chucked out, voted off, first week. The ignominy! 

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DIARY 12/04/11

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Back from Greece (more notes later) to learn of the shocking and sad news of the death of Sheila Naylor. Russ sent me the order of service for her funeral, held last week. I know nothing else, so if Russ or anyone (Ray?) wants to tell me (us) more, I’d like to hear. The Guestbook is there for you. I’m sure many would like to know…..Many of you knew Sheila, who followed me and my career path from the very early days. My thoughts are with Russ and their lovely girls, and, of course, Gareth.

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DIARY 25/03/11

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Colchester, Essex, Wednesday: another leg of the 3-man acoustic tour comes to an end. I was pretty weary next morning, adrenaline running down etc. But now ready again. It’s always an adventure out there and on-stage, but some nights it’s even an event. Had some precious musical moments recently, with Barry and James letting off improvised mayhem night after night. We got into some rather ethnic rhythms and tempos (jazzy, at least) on Sling It! and Sebastian in particular. The respect shown by audiences to the guys for their musical brilliance brings much pride to me. Surround yourself with the best, and some glory will rub off on you, I reckon! It’s a privilege to be part of it up there. The standing ovations gave all the team (including Roger Searle on lights, Andy Linklater on sound and Shop on stage-duty) a real glow. The crew all know their contribution is considerable and highly respected by me. They are all pros at the top of their game. That’s why it looks so good and sounds so good.

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DIARY 22/02/11

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A few random thoughts occur: Christmas has just passed, according to my head-clock. That’s weird. Weird, because soon after, on New Year’s Eve, we rolled into Holmfirth for a belter of a celebration. Was a great way to end a good year, and ring in a new one. Am sending thanks here to all who sent Christmas cards and gifts. More than I deserve surely. Somme guide will come in most handy when we visit Poperinge in August. Thank you, m’am.

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DIARY 04/01/11

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This afternoon, on a battered old bird table on the edge of the wood, I saw great tits, blue tits, a robin and a coal tit, all in the space of ten minutes. They were nibbling fatballs and snatching nuts and seed. Dunnocks gorge themselves shamelessly below, scavenging scraps flung casually onto the leaf-sodden grass.

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DIARY 14/12/10

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Was home from the EuroTour, where we took in five cities in Germany, three in Holland, and Ostend in Belgium, for three nights before rehearsing with Barry and James for a new set for the UK acoustic dates. The mind just switches, click, from one mode to the other. The original take on Make Me Smile came to me on stage in Tunbridge Wells, the other guys knowing nothing of it. They knew enough about me, though, to take it as part and parcel of my approach, and improvise, brilliantly I thought, without over-clouding the lyrics. Some of those dates were special, memorable. In the north they come with me, word for word, and further south – as a general rule – the rooms can be a little more restrained. I take it as it comes. The surprise package was in sleepy Suffolk, my home county. To Bury St Edmunds, to the new Apex Concert Hall. It’s a fabulous mini-Symphony Hall, seating 500 with the most perfect acoustics. This packed house was with me from the moment the lights came up. Not so sleepy Suffolk, after all! Those big, church rooms, Islington’s Union Chapel, and Bristol’s St George’s are the perfect spaces for acoustic shows. I could have sung all night at those too, as well as Bury, because for a singer the domed roofs and wood and stone surrounds give a natural resonance and are all-forgiving. Wouldn’t really want to play them with a drum kit and electric guitars, but in the acoustic setting, perfect!

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DIARY 19/10/10

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Buzzing. It's all amazing, this life for me. How about this: In 1973, a young Jewish plugger took an new EMI single around the BBC, mainly banging on doors at Radio 1. He was Eric Hall, and Sebastian was not an easy sell for him. Eric got a more amenable response when he turned up several months later with Judy Teen. EMI had told him and myself that there was not another single on The Human Menagerie. I found that opinion incredible, and to this day both Eric and I despair at the lack of imagination shown by those responsible. Muriel The Actor, maybe? What Ruthy Said? Loretta's Tale? None of them suited Radio 1 according to EMI. Eric took Make Me Smile to the Beeb, too. I had Dave Most on the case, too. Dave was Mickie’s younger brother, and his company, RAK, had signed me as publishers. Together, they got a Noel Edmonds breakfast show Record Of The Week, and I think Kid Jensen gave it a massive boost on Radio Luxemburg.

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DIARY 14/09/10

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Portmeirion was special, as we all hoped it would be. It’s a magical place, the Village. Mediterranean-style cottages in Mediterranean colours. They appear authentic, but it’s all an illusion. Even the damp look on the plaster is deliberately wiped on with a darker shade of paint applied to the lower parts of the walls, ageing the buildings and adding character. The town hall ceiling is magnificent. It’s a masterpiece of stucco and plaster-work. But Sir Clough reclaimed it. It came from another place, and he somehow got his craftsmen to re-establish it in the north-west of Wales, in his own village. All that stood there originally was the main house, looking at the river. There’s an element of illusion even about that building; it was burnt to the ground in 1981, two years after my own first visit, and re-built mostly in its own image.

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DIARY 12/08/10

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I was thinking about some of the people I met on the recent UK tour.

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DIARY 06/07/10

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There is a certain trudge about touring. Wake, breakfast, travel, check-in, relax, explore if there’s time away from promotional business, sound-check, dinner, play show, relax, sleep, wake, breakfast, travel.....always the travelling, moving around and about. But as a saving grace there is always the place at which we arrive to consider: the town, the city, the place; almost always worthy of respect and consideration. Could be worse.

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DIARY 23/06/10

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Copenhagen: to see Soren again, and his fab and beautiful daughter Christina (have I spelt it right?), such a thrill.

Oslo: Finn, my dear friend of many years, sound check and dinner; chatting to band and absorbing.

Finn even brought beautiful young women along (how?), and we all stared in awe backstage before boarding bus.

And Morten: Universal and always welcome. These guys are a million miles away from my everyday life, but they are always friends when we come to their towns. Always.

Finn: so slim and fit and rocking.

We meet all sorts, some not so wonderful as others: such is life. But5 we met almost always good and helpful people as we trudged across Scandinavia.

Life could be a lot worse for someone who writes songs and tries to play the guitar.

People make it happen.

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DIARY 21/06/10

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Johnnie Walker came to Bristol. Sat through sound check and took photos which he has sent me. I’ll get some to the website. Great to see an old mate, one who helped my career right from the start and still encourages me, saying the kindest words about Stranger Comes To Town. Our two night sojourn at The Stables turned out to be the joy it always has been.

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DIARY 31/05/10

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Dublin already seems history, the time passes so quickly out here. But it rocked and so did Belfast. Club venues, but the air was buzzing both nights with good fans who came out for a good night, and it gave me heart to see how the new set, littered with new songs, affected them. Seems they had the good time they went out for. We did. We were ready to play in public. Rehearsals in themselves are exciting for musicians. We gel, we blend and harmonise, personally as well as musically. These are fine people. A fish rots from the head down, so I choose carefully.

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DIARY 21/05/10

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Missed a day of rehearsals for The Ivors. The idea of doing so was a stress. But I like that awards very much. I was, for the third time (9th time on jury) chairman of the jury working on Best Song Musically & Lyrically. I think I’ve posted before on that. I am a songwriter, a musician, the proverbial wandering minstrel, and so committee stuff is not really my stuff. Juries not really for me. We do what we do, we move into this demimonde, onto this extracurricular plane, in order to get away from the real world. Makes us sad? Inadequate? Insecure? I expect all those and more are true. But those involved in the travelling-constantly world normally don’t care. I don’t care.

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DIARY 10/05/10

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Death has preoccupied my mind somewhat of late. My two friends were far too young to have suffered that way and to be taken. And the deeply emotional tasks the relatives face once such important people have gone, this has plagued me. It’s hard for those of us hurt by the loss. You want to help, but you’re not there, you’re not involved. You’re not family. You feel their terrible suffering and want to console them, but you’re not there. They must move in a sort of purgatory, a middle land where reality is blurred. I had a call today from a very good mate, but again one I go a year or more without actually seeing. No lunch. No dinner. No bottles and tales, nor late confessions. But we love each other as close friends do. And I know it, and hope he knows it. His call came soon after he’d read my on-line diary. There are those you should keep in touch with. Stop putting it off. Manana, manana.......today! Do it today, I am telling myself. You drift, but true friends know this happens and do not take it personally. But I don’t want to drift too far from the few really good, important friends I’ve made and kept. I determine to make more effort.

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DIARY 30/04/10

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Two separate emails received Friday gave news of two separate old friends being diagnosed with lung cancer. Two friends. Lung cancer. I was keen to get a copy of “Stranger Comes To Town” to Paul Evans, maybe the world’s leading collector of Bloomsbury Press (mostly Virginia Woolf) literature. I called the hospice late Friday afternoon; he’d been taken there a couple of days earlier. Asked if he would be able to hear it if it arrived by post Monday. Perhaps better if you brought it tomorrow, the nurse told me. It was heavy news.

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DIARY 20/04/10

  • Written by Steve Harley
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Home at last. And, really, I had it easy. The tv pictures of the stranded thousands at Frankfurt airport, a few kilometres from my hotel, were heart-breaking. Families with young kiddies; the old and infirm; the once-a-year travellers, desperate to get to a wedding, a celebration, an anniversary. They all told their stories and I listened with a heavy heart. We managed to book pretty much the last seat on a Eurostar for Monday, and I arrived at Ebbsfleet last night, after moving on to Brussels for a night and a couple of days.

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DIARY 16/04/10

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Had a wonderful time with Werner Reinke on HR1 Radio in Frankfurt last night. When I get more time and better internet access than now I will tell more. Since the evening came to a close, after 4 hours on air, we have done little but fight for a way back to England. The ash cloud sprung into terrible life minutes after my flight landed from City Airport on Thursday morning.

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