Eccentric
My blogs
| Gender | Male |
|---|---|
| Introduction | I was supposed to be an historian I suppose. At least, that's what I studied in Oxford back in the days of flares, prog rock and visions of a better world. Maybe I would have been had I spent less time touring with bands and more time submerged in my studies. But music won and the 1970's were spent building large PA rigs and doing tour production for the likes of Selecter, The Beat and Haircut 100. Fate intervened once more in 1980 and a period spent managing Roy Harper and launching his record label were followed by a decade at the sharp end of what was then a record industry, managing bands and producers and doing A+R consultancy for the likes of A+M, CBS, MCA and others. |
| Favorite Movies | Like all music professionals, part of my accreditation was a classic industry rip-off, leading to a nasty legal quagmire feathering the nests of slick lawyers and an accompanying disillusionment with the record industry but not with music. Refocused if not yet entirely re-energised I returned to recording my own music in the early 1990's, and within the context of assembling my own modest recording rig I found myself sourcing juicy bits of equipment for friends and acquaintances in the industry. As so often in my past, an accidental adjunct to the main event turned into the main event itself and the rest is history. A monster with three heads, Funky Junk now operates from London, Paris and Milan meaning (if nothing else) that I get the occasional good meal and frequent good company. One thing is for sure, though...a life of accidental twists and turns holds other unexpected adventures in store. At least, I sincerely hope so. |
| Favorite Books | A blog about gear. And about music. And about life. And about the whirlygig of gossip, innuendo and blather surrounding them. Opinionated? Probably. Wise? Probably not. True? Well, as straight as the next horizon. All views expressed are personal and do not necessarily reflect those of the company. |
When? As often as inspiration or the need for verbal vomit dictates.