The wind is blowing. The rain is falling. What a horrible morning!

Solo Music

A couple of nights ago the BBC had a bit of a Robert Plant fest. Concentrating mostly on his solo career after Led Zeppelin, it was a curious tale of musical experiment including a hilarious commercial phase in the eighties. I've had some respect for his efforts in the past - Slow Dancer from the album Pictures At Eleven has always been a personal favourite among many - but I wasn't aware of the variety of music he'd been responsible for.

In a sense, I'm walking a similar path right now. I don't mean that I want to sound exactly like him, because that isn't possible and in any case, I have no wish to set up a tribute band, but in the sense that I now have an opportunity to explore music, to express ideas lurking in my subconcious rather than fitting in with well established genres.

In fact, the programs couldn't have been timed any better. Not so much inspired, perhaps, as morale restored. My circumstances mitigate against creativity, and bearing in mind I was never a productive lyricist to begin with, creating an album is not going to be a sudden explosion of creative effort.

I don't think that matters. After all, it's been twenty years since I was seriously involved in music and despite my tongue-in-cheek rock god status, I was never that well known to begin with. My album won't be an exercise in profit, but rather a statement, and I actually do believe it's right I approach it that way, regardless of how well it does in the marketplace.

My Greatest Rock Star Moment

Today I entered the job centre office for my daily signing, and with the place almost devoid of anyone in attendance on this dreary horrible morning, almost every claims advisor turned to look at me. The funny thing is there's sometimes a moment when you make some strange kind of impact, for no discernable reason. Today was like that. No-one commented, or said anything, they simply looked up and watched me arrive.

Today however was not the most notable occaision that I arrived with celebrity style attention. You would think, given my experience as a performing artist, that something like that happened going on stage. I wish.

No, despite some very succesful and somevery well attended gigs, my greatest rock star moment was very modest. It happened in Wootton Bassett, during the early years of of Red Jasper. The band were meeting at a pub for a discussion over a pint (or several) and as I came in, the whole pub, packed with weekend revellers, went silent and stared at me as if to say "Who's that? Who is he?"

Unless this has ever happened to you, it's impossible to describe how it feels. You're there, and something important is going on, no matter how insignificant it would ordinarily be. For that short moment, I was important in some subtle way. Sigh. The claims advisor has signed me off and tells me I can go away. Fame is so fleeting...