Leathered/Shot Down on the Pavement (Fanzines)

At the back of 2006, between A Time to Make Friends and me starting another book, I tried my hand at different kinds of writing. I was desperate to catch up to my ambition, since I'd had polite refusals for my World Cup work and had no idea what to do next. I figured I'd try and cast around for paid work with what I knew best - music reviewing. To this end, I went straight for the jugular; why go back to the odd album or gig review when I could become a correspondent for the whole of the Walsall scene?

The problem with that is that Walsall didn't have a scene. Without a venue, or more than one, I had nothing to write about. Since this was basically a vehicle to advertise what I could do, I made it up. The following images are two fanzines I created and sent to various outlets. I avoided the 'inkies' (NME et al) and went for Q, Mojo and Uncut. 'Leathered' referred to Walsall's manufacturing heritage, while 'Shot Down...' is from a Clash Song, where the band name Black Maria came from. The shot of the band is from my mate Rich's band Stormy in the North. He didn't know but I think he'd be okay, since the fake fanzine is something we tinkered with in sixth form for our own amusement. Some of the band names and songs are a hangover from that period, while the review concerns my own musical efforts (which are available if anyone from the Brill Building is reading).

Q bit. Paul Rees, a West Bromwich lad, was curious about a musical scene happening on his old stomping ground. Once I had got over the initial shock of the plan working, I had to sheepishly admit that there was no band, no scene. I got the impression Paul was a bit cheesed off, but my brio was rewarded with an offer of work experience. It was a sliding doors moment, and I missed the train because I was scared.

I've looked back at these works over the years and always smiled at them. They have enough fizz and enthusiasm to offset the shameless touting for work. They look like something a teenager with too much sherbert and not enough distraction might write. My later reviewing work is much more mature, but whenever I hear 'Complete Control' I'm this kid again, a battered leather jacket and watered-down pint away from taking a slash in a bus shelter.






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