Wilko Johnson likes Anna Chen's poetry: video

So pleased to have received such sweet encouragement from Wilko Johnson for my poetry book, Reaching for my Gnu. (When I hear the word "culture", I reach for my gnu.)

I've uploaded the video again at full quality as my camera struggles in low light.

Thank you, Wilko. x

Anna plays the Stoke Newington Literature Festival on Sunday 9th June in the Budvar Marquee at around 5pm — time to be confirmed.

Wilko Johnson he say yes to Reaching for my Gnu

I was, am and will continue to be thrilled by this encouragement from meister songwriter Wilko Johnson for my poetry. Here he is saying nice things about Reaching for my Gnu at his house last week.

So looking forward to his gigs in March — a farewell tour to beat all farewell tours. Bless you, Wilko. x

An afternoon with Wilko Johnson: Charles Shaar Murray interviews his mate

Spent Tuesday afternoon with one of the two most beautiful men in rock 'n' roll, the other one being David Bowie. Three if you include the lovely Charles Shaar Murray who I drove through the snow to Wilko Johnson's house in Southend. We found him in awesome mood for a man who's just announced he has terminal cancer that will end his life before the year is out. It's the pancreatic one, the one that got Bill Hicks at the ridiculously early age of 32.

Charles was interviewing his old friend for Classic Rock magazine and, yet again, was let down by his HD Zoom (bring back tape). Luckily, I had my Lumix camera on me so I was able to video them chatting in the living room: mugs of Jamieson coffee and chessboard on the coffee table, walls lined with books and pictures including two Matissesque ones painted by our Renaissance man when he was weighing up whether to become an artist in a garret or a music hero with money, adoration, women and a gold Cadillac.

"I'm euphoric," he told CSM. Knowing where his exit lies has liberated him from his usual grumpiness and a tendency towards depression, putting life gloriously into perspective. He's looking forward to his gigs, the farewell tour of which there will be no repeats like the ones the Stones seem to specialise in. It all seems so bloody unfair, just as the Dr Feelgood guitar supremo and songwriter was finding new audiences and an acting career as Ilyn Payne in Game of Thrones following Julian Temple's Oil City Confidential movie about the band. This is the real deal, the last we'll get to see of him and I can feel myself welling up.

Wilko, though, is the happiest person in the room, floating on his cloud of bliss. I found him bouncy, tigger-like and charming. He even told me he'd loved reading Reaching for my Gnu, my poetry book that I'd sent him for Christmas: "Fuckin' brilliant. I couldn't put it down." Squee!

He's been giving a series of interviews and there's a lovely one he did for BBC Radio 4's Front Row that you can listen to on iPlayer.

The universe requires balance so every sublime expresson of the best of humanity has its dark side. Scummy scalpers have moved in on Wilko's farewell dates. He'd kept the price of the Camden Koko's tickets to £17.50 to give his fans the chance for one last party with him but one friend reports that five minutes after they went on sale, they were sold out. Same the next day when an extra date was added. We know that tickets are being sold on eBay and elsewhere for £165 each. Not that Wilko believes in an afterlife, but I know where these creeps will be going.

Wilko departs this world knowing he's loved, his life's account balanced and with his big soul intact. But not for months. OK. Let's party.

Wilko Johnson presents Charles Shaar Murray with journalism award: Record of the Day 2010

The lovely readers of Record of the Day voted Charles Shaar Murray winner of the prestigious Outstanding Contribution to Music Journalism Award at last night's bash at the Idea Generation Gallery in Shoreditch.

Following an almost clean sweep of the awards by the newly rebooted NME, Charles's old alma mater — thanks to editor Krissi Murison who won the Editor of the Year Award — he impressed on the journos in the audience the importance of writing, not just about the music, but about what the music is about, including the political, spiritual and cultural landscape of the time. Which is largely what led to the success of the NME in its 1970s heyday.

As Charles said in his blockbuster speech, if you stick around long enough, you get your props.

Also getting his props since featuring in the Julian Temple film, OIl City Confidential, about the history of Britain's finest blues rock band Dr Feelgood, was the magnificent Wilko Johnson, guitarist, songwriter and singer, who was there to present the award to Charles. Two legends on one ticket — it doesn't get much better than this. (Shame they played "Milk & Alcohol" as his play-on music when it was recorded after he left the band.)

Lucky gurl that I yam, I got to talk to Wilko beforehand. He's very excited about the HBO series, Game Of Thrones, he's making for American TV in which he plays the mute villain Ilyn Payne (geddit?). Possessed of a rubbery face it was a delight to watch Wilko animatedly describing the role, the full-length chain mail suits, and the swords he has strapped to his back, poor lamb, making sitting down belween takes an impossibility. How we laughed, though, when he told us about how Sean Bean fares in confrontation with our hero/villain, which I can't possibly divulge here as that would be an almighty spoiler.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer writer Jane Espenson is also involved so this will be one to watch.

Charles and I urged him to sort out merchandise so we can have an articulated action doll of him in full regalia. Either that or we take him home.

UPDATE: For everyone outside the UK who's visiting this blogpost via the Winter Is Coming site, a bit more about the gorgeous much-loved Wilko. You may already know that he was the super-talented guitarist and songwriter with Dr Feelgood, the uber British pub-rock band of the 1970s who played up a storm with their hyper-energy blues rock. Not only that, his chiselled features made him one of the most beautiful men on the planet. If you haven't seen it, check out Julien Temple's documentary film, Oil City Confidential. This may help explain why there are guys of a certain age (40s and 50s) who, even though they may be stern upright citizens, turn into babbling fifteen year olds when talking about Wilko. I have never seen so many straight men go so silly over a rock hero. It's quite funny and sweet to watch.

Anyhow, we are all thrilled that Wilko's multiple skills have been revealed to a new audience across the Pond via Game Of Thrones, and hope you come to love him as much as we do. If you are lucky, you may even get to see him play. On New Year's Eve his band (with Norman Watt-Roy and Dylan Howe) plays London's 100 Club which is now under threat, supported by Crosstown Lightnin'. Hope there's a US tour next year. Go see.

Charles Shaar Murray and Wilko Johnson (pic Record of the Day)

Charles Shaar Murray and Wilko Johnson (pic Record of the Day)

Wilko Johnson, Anna Chen and Charles Shaar Murray

Wilko and Anna

Wilko Johnson live video: 'Going Back Home' with Charles Shaar Murray

Here you are, dear reader: Wilko Johnson's band play 'Going Back Home' with Charles Shaar Murray guesting on harmonica. Norman Watt-Roy on bass and Dylan Howe on drums. Videoed at the premiere of Julien Temple's Oil City Confidential documentary film about the early days of Dr Feelgood and their roots in Canvey Island, Essex.

Movie and gig screened from Koko's, Camden in London, to 40 plus cinemas around the UK on Tuesday 2nd February 2010.

Review of the event here.

Wilko Johnson live video: 'Going Back Home' with Charles Shaar Murray

Here you are, dear reader: Wilko Johnson's band play 'Going Back Home' with Charles Shaar Murray guesting on harmonica. Norman Watt-Roy on bass and Dylan Howe on drums. Videoed at the premiere of Julien Temple's Oil City Confidential documentary film about the early days of Dr Feelgood and their roots in Canvey Island, Essex.

Movie and gig screened from Koko's, Camden in London, to 40 plus cinemas around the UK on Tuesday 2nd February 2010.

Review of the event here.

Wilko Johnson gig and Oil City Confidential premiere at Koko's, Camden: review

Last night's premiere of Julien Temple's Dr Feelgood documentary, Oil City Confidential, was stunning, a combination of movie screening and Wilko Johnson gig simultaneously beamed from a packed Koko's in Camden to 40 plus venues across the UK.

Singer/guitarist Wilko Johnson's charismatic amphetamine-charged performance reminded me why I used to go to gigs. Tall, lean and lanky, he struts the stage like a cross between Nureyev and Max Wall. Possessing one of the most beautiful male faces ever, the Nureyev factor may have morphed into the late Ken Campbell now he's 62, but, as with Campbell, time hasn't withered his beauty, only seasoned it. There are few seats at Koko's, my back was killing me, but I'd have stood for another four hours to see that gig again.

The sense of occasion was kicked off with an introduction by Keith Allen and a few words from director Julien Temple. Then the screening of Oil City Confidential, set mostly in the Feelgoods' home town of Canvey Island on the Thames estuary. Solidly working class, this Essex locale was double-blighted by the devastating flood of 1953 which killed 58 people, and the construction of the huge oil refinery. A TV clip shows a young John Wilkinson articulately arguing the case for the local residents and against the might of the oil companies: a wilful Wilko as ever.

I hadn't realised Wilko had been an English teacher before turning his childhood passion into a successful career. I envy his students. I bet he was wonderful, just the type of inspirational class-warrior we'd have loved at my East End school with his long hair and determination to keep the human spirit alive. When the head-teacher gave him a dressing-down for dressing down, he resigned, telling the old fogey that he'd travelled further in his mind and geographical locations than some of the dead-heads in the staff-room and that he'd be back in a pink Cadillac. Dunno if he ever drove that pink Caddy through the streets of Canvey but he had the last laugh.

Not that the band was always a bundle of giggles. The three Johns and Lee Brilleaux who formed the rhythm and blues band, Dr Feelgood, in 1971 embraced gangster miserabilism and won fans across the world with their high energy and angry music while prog-rock hippies were Mooging themselves into cosmic oblivion. The freshly shorn Wilko and frontman Brilleaux held audiences mesmerised and won over the New Musical Express even before they'd been signed. Not one but two massively talented divas in the band meant the social divide between sensitive moody Wilko (who'd charge up on speed and spend tour evenings in his room writing the album) versus the pisshead contingent (everyone else) turned into a chasm and an eventual split.

The film splices current interviews with documentary footage and witty movie clips telling the story of the Feelgoods and their huge influence on popular music, defining British pub rock and affecting fledgling American punk.

The gig never lagged. For the 50- and 60-year-olds pogoing in the mosh pit this was one area where they could still keep it up all night. Bassist Norman Watt-Roy (Blockheads) was fantastic and energetic, a right little showoff. Dylan Howe (son of Steve) delivered crisp, snappy drumming. A freshly slimmed Alison Moyet guested, wowing us with her lovely blues-tone voice, and had some of us women wondering what her fitness regime was. Man-mountain zydeco accordionist Slim (The Urban Voodoo Machine) played great despite having to battle heroically against deafening low-frequency feedback.

And Charles Shaar Murray — NME veteran journo, author, harpist and guitarist/singer — shared the stage with Wilko for the first time in almost thirty years to play Brilleauesque harmonica on four numbers: Dimples, Boom Boom, Going Back Home and Route 66. He threw shapes and blew that thang like it was the '70s all over again. From our perch at the side, Charles's Crosstown Lightin' compadre, harmonica player Buffalo Bill Smith, gave him a ten, and his bassist Marc Jefferies yelled, "Charles is the coolest dude I know". (CSM says Marc needs to broaden his circle of acquaintances. But I say, STFU, CSM. Whadda you know?)

Wilko Johnson gig and Oil City Confidential premiere at Koko's, Camden: review

Last night's premiere of Julien Temple's Dr Feelgood documentary, Oil City Confidential, was stunning, a combination of movie screening and Wilko Johnson gig simultaneously beamed from a packed Koko's in Camden to 40 plus venues across the UK.

Singer/guitarist Wilko Johnson's charismatic amphetamine-charged performance reminded me why I used to go to gigs. Tall, lean and lanky, he struts the stage like a cross between Nureyev and Max Wall. Possessing one of the most beautiful male faces ever, the Nureyev factor may have morphed into the late Ken Campbell now he's 62, but, as with Campbell, time hasn't withered his beauty, only seasoned it. There are few seats at Koko's, my back was killing me, but I'd have stood for another four hours to see that gig again.

The sense of occasion was kicked off with an introduction by Keith Allen and a few words from director Julien Temple. Then the screening of Oil City Confidential, set mostly in the Feelgoods' home town of Canvey Island on the Thames estuary. Solidly working class, this Essex locale was double-blighted by the devastating flood of 1953 which killed 58 people, and the construction of the huge oil refinery. A TV clip shows a young John Wilkinson articulately arguing the case for the local residents and against the might of the oil companies: a wilful Wilko as ever.

I hadn't realised Wilko had been an English teacher before turning his childhood passion into a successful career. I envy his students. I bet he was wonderful, just the type of inspirational class-warrior we'd have loved at my East End school with his long hair and determination to keep the human spirit alive. When the head-teacher gave him a dressing-down for dressing down, he resigned, telling the old fogey that he'd travelled further in his mind and geographical locations than some of the dead-heads in the staff-room and that he'd be back in a pink Cadillac. Dunno if he ever drove that pink Caddy through the streets of Canvey but he had the last laugh.

Not that the band was always a bundle of giggles. The three Johns and Lee Brilleaux who formed the rhythm and blues band, Dr Feelgood, in 1971 embraced gangster miserabilism and won fans across the world with their high energy and angry music while prog-rock hippies were Mooging themselves into cosmic oblivion. The freshly shorn Wilko and frontman Brilleaux held audiences mesmerised and won over the New Musical Express even before they'd been signed. Not one but two massively talented divas in the band meant the social divide between sensitive moody Wilko (who'd charge up on speed and spend tour evenings in his room writing the album) versus the pisshead contingent (everyone else) turned into a chasm and an eventual split.

The film splices current interviews with documentary footage and witty movie clips telling the story of the Feelgoods and their huge influence on popular music, defining British pub rock and affecting fledgling American punk.

The gig never lagged. For the 50- and 60-year-olds pogoing in the mosh pit this was one area where they could still keep it up all night. Bassist Norman Watt-Roy (Blockheads) was fantastic and energetic, a right little showoff. Dylan Howe (son of Steve) delivered crisp, snappy drumming. A freshly slimmed Alison Moyet guested, wowing us with her lovely blues-tone voice, and had some of us women wondering what her fitness regime was. Man-mountain zydeco accordionist Slim (The Urban Voodoo Machine) played great despite having to battle heroically against deafening low-frequency feedback.

And Charles Shaar Murray — NME veteran journo, author, harpist and guitarist/singer — shared the stage with Wilko for the first time in almost thirty years to play Brilleauesque harmonica on four numbers: Dimples, Boom Boom, Going Back Home and Route 66. He threw shapes and blew that thang like it was the '70s all over again. From our perch at the side, Charles's Crosstown Lightin' compadre, harmonica player Buffalo Bill Smith, gave him a ten, and his bassist Marc Jefferies yelled, "Charles is the coolest dude I know". (CSM says Marc needs to broaden his circle of acquaintances. But I say, STFU, CSM. Whadda you know?)