Saturday, 15 May 2010

Mark 3

He is now Mark to me. One of the greatest artists in any field working today. Thinking back, we waited to see if he would come chat, his PA seemed unhopeful but then Mark came up to us, smiling, happy, healthy looking. I was a bit star struck so making conversation was in his court, I shook his hand and told him that he had got me through some hard times, through good times but always confirmed a world view that has at times seemed out of sinc. His hand felt like a workers hand, not the light touch of an office worker.He had a genuine interest in what I did. I had fallen for the character he plays, i always knew john lydon was in character when he was johnny rotten but Mark e Smith always seemed to be someone whos work i loved but wouldnt want to have it spoiled by being abused as so many journos have. I suppose he could tell I wasnt a journo but a creative fella. He came across as gentle, sensitive and even vulnerable. With hindsight I wonder why I thought he would be anything else, to write as he does must take huge sensitivity. I felt protective, like I should keep his secret, to ward off dickheads. I hope he remembers me. He has been through the ringer, trashed, abused yet stood tall, well 5 and a half foot, produced a body of work that has opened us up to his heart at times whilst playing characters at others. He needs to have his shield so don't believe a word of this. He doesnt suffer fools gladly. Ron was a bit of a twat and the odd comment, that at the time seemed innocuous, has crystalised. I remember him saying to Eddy Izzard, 'its not like you to be funny', and Skinner asking him if he doesnt want to be loved and replying, 'havn't you got a wife?'. Well, he drooped a couple of gems on Ron when he offered his services as a basss player, but the twinkle in the eye is lost in print, the friendly irony, the inclusive humour.
He knows he is loved. He knows he is unique. I feared he would be the MES the interviewers get, the MES the journos get, but no, he is one of us, he just happens to front Britains greatest band.

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