Rock and Roll has Tender Moments too...

! Photographs by Chalkie Davies

1973-1988

! For as long as I can remember people have suggested that I write a book, citing both my exploits in Rock and Roll from 1973-1988 and my story telling abilities. After all, with my position as staff photographer on the NME and later The Face and Arena, I collected pop stars like others collected stamps, I was not happy until I had photographed everyone who interested me. However, given that the access I had to my friends and clients was often unlimited and 24/7 I did not feel it was fair to them that I should write it all down. I refused all offers.

Then in 2010 I was approached by the National Museum of Wales, they wanted to put on a retrospective of my work, this gave me a special opportunity. In 1988 I gave up Rock and Roll, I no longer enjoyed the music and, quite simply, too many of my friends had died, I feared I might be next. So I put all of my negatives into storage at a friends Studio and decided that maybe 25 years later the images you see here might be of some cultural significance, that they might be seen as more than just pictures of Rock Stars, Pop Bands and Punks. That they even might be worthy of a Museum.

So when the Museum approached me three years ago with the idea of a large six month Retrospective in 2015 I agreed, and thought of doing the usual thing and making a Catalogue. But, I posted a couple of images on Facebook with a short caption to test the waters, the result was very interesting, everyone complimented the words, they loved hearing the stories behind these iconic images. They all wanted me to write a book.

Still I resisted, I never saw myself as a writer, I can certainly tell my War Stories, as some people refer to them, but I did not want to go too far into the personal and private areas of other people's lives. So I decided to skip Sex and Drugs, and only write about Rock and Roll.

It took a year or so for me to adjust to this new way of expressing myself, pictures are easy, words are much more difficult. After a while I found a rhythm and the stories flowed easily from my mind to my iPad. After writing about fifty, ranging in length from 300-900 words I decided to show it to a few of my friends, they responded positively to my attempts at prose, insisted I knew what I was doing, so did another old friend, Charles Shaar Murray, my partner in crime at the NME back in the 70's. To get praise from Charlie was a huge compliment, nobody wrote better than him, he suggested that people don't realize that photographers can also observe and comment on what they see, that people let them have incredible access based on that way of thinking.

What you are about to see are photographs that are in no particular order, it is not even a collection of the best images or the best writing, it is simply a range of the material I have ready for a book and show. They are in no particular order except by shape, first those that are horizontal, then vertical, then square.

I hope you enjoy what you see and read, I look forward to hearing what you think.

! ! I might as well start at the beginning, or nearly the beginning anyway. I was working at Heathrow Airport fixing broken Autopilots on Jumbo Jets when I took my camera with me when I went to see Pink Floyd at Wembley in 1972. I casually walked into the area between the barrier and the stage, here I met the wonderful Jill Furmanovsky and my journey in Rock Photography began. I found out what dry ice tasted like, I got covered in it as the Floyd used it a lot, this was the first time they had played Dark Side of the Moon, the album was not even out yet but being that close to the band was exciting, I was hooked.

Six months later I took it to David Bowie's Ziggy Tour opening night at Earls Court in 1973, this time I borrowed a long lens from a friend, but getting close to the stage was extremely difficult. The gig was absolute pandemonium, thousands of screaming girls besieged the stage and the area at the front was like a battleground. However, using the long lens allowed me to take pictures from further back in the audience, whilst I eventually snuck into the pit for the encores my first ever published photo came from this show, the rest were fuzzy and out of focus but I did have this one great frame that I reproduce here.

A couple of months later the Tour finished at the Hammersmith Odeon, by this time I had been to quite a few concerts with my camera, mainly at the Rainbow Theatre but also other venues. In fact I put a color photo of Chuck Berry taken at the Rainbow in a competition, he was wearing this bright and flamboyant shirt, it won first prize. A man came up to me afterwards asking where it was taken, I told him it was at the Rainbow but that I did not have a Photo Pass, I was worried I had done something wrong.

He introduced himself as Bill West, he told me that he was the Stage Manager for the Rank Organization, that he was in charge of all their Theatres, he gave me his card and told me if I ever needed to get into a show, anywhere in the country, I just needed to call him. When Bowie announced two extra Shows at Hammersmith, which were to be filmed by DA Pennenbacker, I called Bill up, he told me to go to the stage door on the second night and a pass would be waiting. He said that the first night would be crowded with photographers, but that on the second night, the final Ziggy Gig ever, it would be much less crowded.

I showed up at the Stage Door, I was just eighteen and I told Charlie, the Stage Door keeper my name. He immediately said, "You are Bill's friend, you can go anywhere except on the Stage". He handed me a Backstage Pass. This was incredible to me, he pointed own the stairs and I then explored the tunnels under the Odeon, opened a little door and found myself in the Orchestra Pit. I was early, there were film cameras on tripods, but no other photographers. I could not believe my luck.

The show of course is legendary, and the photos I took were really good, because I only had a couple of lenses I had to get right up to the edge of the stage to take them, my proximity to David was really close, the pit was fairly empty, I remember a couple of photographers being there, and there was the film crew of course but it was like having your fantasy come true, at one point David sat on the edge of the stage, I was literally

! three feet away from him, it's difficult to describe the buzz one gets from this, how incredible a feeling it is to see the artist thru your viewfinder, it's almost like they are performing just for you.

I got home and started developing the film, I had no darkroom so I just put the three developing trays on the floor in front of my bed, my room was tiny and I used to sit cross legged in front of the enlarger, I could print until dawn broke, then the prints started to get fogged, so this was the start of my nocturnal behavior, staying up all night was the new norm, at eighteen you have the natural energy to do this, but on this night I made a decision, a very important one.

There were at least twenty great photos from that gig, and I have high standards so twenty is a lot. Obviously Bowie is really in charge, the costume changes, the poses, the performance all made it so easy to take the pictures. But, you still have to be in the right place, with the right lens, and need very steady hands to accommodate the low shutter speed. I felt that I was good at this new line of work, that Rock Photography was what I wanted as a career, and there was only one job I wanted. I wanted to take pictures for the NME.

I had saved up a bunch of money working at the Airport, I decided to quit my job within a year, Bill West took great care of me, I went to all the best concerts and was guaranteed a photo pass, I have always said I was lucky when asked how I got my job, this is how I got my break.

Trust me, it's not supposed to be this easy. I was incredibly lucky, putting the Chuck Berry photo in a competition at the British Airways Camera Club was the best move I was ever to make, I got to live my dream, and for the next fifteen years I lived it to the full.

! The Osmonds were headlining a Charity Concert for Music Therapy at the Albert Hall, it was a right royal event as it was attended by HRH Princess Margaret, after the show the Osmonds and the other performers were lined up against the wall by the Royal Protocol Squad and told how to behave when PM came into the room, Marie looked like some kind of china doll, Donny seemed very nice and Jimmy, Little Jimmy actually, is probably best forgotten. The doors were opened, in came The Princess and she sailed thru the room right past the assembled performers and straight out of the other door, it was surreal, she never even looked at an Osmond Brother, she glided past them like the QE2, never even gave them a look, never mind the time of day, I thought it strange until I realized that thru the other door was the Bar...

! This photo serves well as an example of the lengths that are sometimes taken in an attempt to placate the egos of the other Band Members in a situation where there is quite obviously a Front Man, often it is because he writes the songs, or is the interesting one and thus the only one worth interviewing, perhaps he is also the singer or most charismatic one on stage, sometimes it is a combination of all three...

So here are that lovable, yet in real life quite often miserable, trio known as The Jam. Standing in front of three rolling Flight Cases that are each so large that they don't even fit inside the Dressing Room and have to be left in the corridor. The photo is taken on their first big headlining Tour at the Southampton Gaumont in 1979. Look carefully and you will see that each one is named after a Band Member, in fact each one is specifically designated for the use of that Band Member, what could they possible be for?

The answer is that they are Dressing Room cases, holding each one's Stage Clothes and Shoes. The irony is that all their clothing would have fitted into a single case. But this is Democracy in action, and to my lens back then, Rock and Roll at its most absurd. In order for Bruce and Rick to feel equal to Paul, their Manager and Paul's father, John, had ordered these cases in an attempt to keep the other members happy and create a situation where all three are, for once, equal...

! Pretty much every Tuesday you could board the 9am British Airways flight to Munich and find it full of Bands going to do the German TV Show Rockpalast which was broadcast live each week. I sometimes went along for the ride as there was often a spare ticket to be had. I had known Bob Geldof and the Boomtown Rats since their first single, they opened for Thin Lizzy at Dalymount Park and Geldof was a frequent visitor to the house I shared with Phil Lynott. By this time they were very successful and would do pretty much anything for a Photo, we went out to the Olympic Park to shoot stuff, it's where the Israeli Athletes were shot and although interesting as a background it put us in a somber mood, when we were done I figured we should go out to Dachau and visit the Concentration Camp, we had plenty of time and I thought it was something we should all see. I had no intention of taking photographs, especially as Johnny Fingers only wore pajamas and its hardly the place for a shoot, but, when I saw the giant sculpture over the gates I felt so overwhelmed by it that I asked the Rats to stand under it to give it some scale, just look at the emancipated people portrayed in it and the sheer power of the work. Makes Rock and Roll seem so inconsequential really, don't you think..

! It's difficult to describe the gracious and generous way in which Elton John treats people, everyone will tell you the same thing, he's simply one of the friendliest people you could ever want to meet. The chance came up to shoot him for the NME and it was supposed to take place at his Record Company, but the day before the shoot he changed his mind, he suggested instead that we do it at his house.

He lives out near Windsor and a driver was sent to collect me, I had never been treated quite like this before, I sat in the car wondering what he would be like, what would I say, he was a huge superstar, why on earth would he invite me out to his house?

Turned out he thought I might prefer his home as a place to do pictures, this was unusual, most stars of his stature would never do this, they would want to keep you away from their house not invite you to go there. I arrived and was ushered into the kitchen, it was bigger than my parents home, and there were records everywhere. Piled up on the table, in boxes on the floor, I had never seen so many, in fact a lot of musicians have very few records, why bother listening to someone else when you make your own?

But Elton is a fan, a huge fan, and music meant everything to him. It turned out that he had a standing order with Tower Records in LA, they were to ship him a copy of every record released. That may sound extravagant, even a little crazy but to Elton it made

! sense. His record collection was simply second to none, he had purchased the collection from Bernie Andrews, a Radio One producer, he must have had 20,000 LP's. It was stored in a room that was built like a maze, corridor after corridor of LP's neatly filed and literally floor to ceiling, it seemed to go on forever. I spent a long time in there just looking at the records, I had never seen anything like it, except at a record store.

I should explain, whilst chatting over a cup of tea he had told me to take a look at his house and decide where I wanted to take pictures, nowhere was off limits and he said to just explore the place and let me know my choice of rooms, I found a Disco (the previous owner was an Arab) there was an indoor swimming pool with a giant chandelier, a living room full of Art, a massive dining room, a gym, stables, garages full of cars, a small recording studio, I really was spoilt for choice.

Then I went upstairs, this was the largest house I had ever been in, I kept exploring and I ended up in his bedroom suite, not by looking for it, I just happened upon it. It contained these huge speakers, priceless works of Art, and this old bed, something that looked like it belonged in a castle, I figured this was the place where I most wanted to shoot. I mean he did say anywhere, and the idea seemed perfect, papers like the Sun would have given anything to take pictures of him there, but that was the thing, I only ever had my pictures published once, in the NME, everyone knew that about me and that's why I was trusted, to me it made total sense, I did some of the worlds biggest stars and the only place they appeared was a music paper, it meant I was never a threat, I could get these fantastic photos and nobody had to worry about them turning up everywhere, the Fleet Street photographers respected me for it too, although they thought I was completely nuts.

I went back downstairs, told him I had seen his bedroom and asked him about the bed. He said it was from the 16th century, I said it was my favourite room, he said no problem and I went to set up my lights. Looking back it was maybe a presumptuous thing to do, but he was so kind and welcoming that I never really gave it a second thought. We did the pictures quickly, it was all over in a matter of minutes, I think I was probably very nervous, but he really did not seem to mind. He joked that I had been in his bedroom and escaped unscathed, I knew he was desperate to come out about being gay, maybe it influenced my choice of rooms, maybe thats why he let me photograph him in there.

We took pictures elsewhere but by comparison they were kind of boring, after all it's not every day you see a 400 year old bed surrounded by Modern Art.

I went back to the house a number of times to do photos for him, he seemed to enjoy having me around and often invited me to stay for dinner, there was just one catch, if you stayed you were given a woman's name, Rod Stewart was Sharon, my friend Frank Murray was Ruby, I was Bette.

! In July of 1978 I had the craziest conflict of schedules, Wednesday the Rolling Stones in St Louis, Thursday and Friday the Stones at the Superdome in New Orleans, then the following Monday Bruce Springsteen at the Municipal Auditorium in New Orleans.

But Harvey Goldsmith rang me and asked if on the Saturday I would be the official photographer for Bob Dylan at Blackbushe. How could I turn this down, I figured I could fly home early Friday morning, do Dylan on Saturday and return to New Orleans on Sunday.

I went straight to Blackbushe from the airport to check things out the day before the show, but I was feeling pretty knackered and I needed to rest up a bit. I saw a bunch of caravans lined up behind the stage and wandered over to them, to my surprise one of them contained nothing except a bed.

I figured nobody would mind if I rested up for an hour so I lay down. Then I was woken by a very large American Security man. " Who the fuck are you? And what are you doing in Bob's bed? You can't sleep there, that's his bed, in case he wants to lie down, get the fuck out of here."

! Ah, so Bob Dylan has a bed backstage, nice, I guess when it all gets to much he has a little nap, well ain't that all fine and dandy.

Then, on the day of the show Bob Dylan's coach arrived backstage, Bob was staring wistfully out of the window. I raised my camera to take a quick snap. The next thing I knew I was confronted by the security man from the previous day, " You again! What the fuck are you doing now?" I'm taking pictures of Bob, for Harvey. "No you ain't, you will not take any pictures of Bob Dylan." But, I'm the Official Photographer! "I don't give a shit, you will not take any photos."

This was bad news, I could have stayed in New Orleans, first I get into trouble for sleeping in the mighty one's bed, now I'm not allowed to take pictures of him. I was really frustrated, I looked for someone to tell my tale of woe to.

I spotted Graham Parker, he had just come offstage and I went over to talk to him, I poured out my frustrations, then from behind us we hear...

"Hey, man, I just want to say, man, that I really like your albums, man"

GP and I turn around and see Bob Dylan standing behind us.

Graham turns to Bob and says...

"Thanks, do you know my Photographer, Chalkie"

I offer my hand and get the lamest wet fish handshake ever, I ask to take a photo, Bob happily agrees, so I rattle of three frames and shake like a leaf.

GP and Bob then have a long, deep and meaningful conversation, can't remember how long it lasted as I was still in shock, Bob wanders off into the sunset, now what do I do.

I figure as he OK'd it then I'm in the clear, but I'm not taking any chances, I quickly rewind the roll of film and put it in my pocket, I put my cameras away, there is no point in keeping them out, I have the best picture possible, Bob Dylan and Graham Parker, why risk getting into more trouble.

When it comes time for Bob's set I get my cameras out and wander towards the stage, my new best friend, the Security man comes running over, "What are you doing? where are you going? I told you no pictures." You mean no live ones either, whats the point of my being here then? "There is no point, I already told you, no pictures."

I slept in his bed, I shook his hand, I took a photo of him and GP, that was enough for me. I hitch a lift back into London in my friends Volkswagen Beetle, she makes me think of Annie Hall, even Woody Allen could not have made my story up.

! Here is a photograph that shows the level to which Rock Stars are pampered. It is taken Backstage at Blackbushe Airport at the Bob Dylan Concert.

Dylan was quite happy to arrive in a coach with his Band, he enjoyed looking out of the window at the surrounding British countryside, but Eric Clapton had a different idea, he wanted to excerpt the minimum effort to get to the gig, and wanted it done in the shortest time possible.

So a Helicopter was sent to his Country House where it landed in on his lawn. Eric walked the short distance from his house to the waiting Helicopter.

After a journey of less than thirty minutes he arrived at the Gig, the Helicopter landed about 200 yards from the Backstage area, but to save him from any physical exertion and to keep him in the luxurious style he was used to a Rolls Royce was parked nearby.

Eric then walked over to the waiting Rolls, got into the back seat, and was driven to his dressing room, a journey which took less than a minute to complete.

How nice it must be to live inside a superstar bubble, to have everything at your disposal, to simply have to walk about twelve steps from Helicopter to Rolls Royce.

But, to me, as well as documenting one of Rock's more surreal moments, it shows off the impeccable style of the British Roadie, just take a look at the guy's shorts, it's living proof of why Roadies often got more girls than the Band.

! It was 9.30 in the morning and bunch of Fleet Street Hacks and Paps were waiting on the Victoria Memorial opposite Buckingham Palace, Tony Parsons and I were also present. Two cars arrive, out of one steps a lawyer and a record company man who quickly set up a table, from the other car, a Daimler Limousine, the Sex Pistols and Malcolm McClaren fall out and onto the street. They stumble over to the table and start signing the Contract, Malcolm, the man from A+M and Malcolm's lawyer look on. As they do a policeman walks over from the Palace gates, Paul Cook is the last one to sign. John flashes peace signs, Steve wonders why he is even awake at such an ungodly hour, and Sid just smiles, that big goofy smile of his that was what he was really all about. The Policeman says "It's time to move along now" and the parties get back into the cars and drive off for a Press Conference at the Regent's Palace Hotel.

By the end of the week the Pistols are no longer on A+M and the rest is history.

! This photograph caused an awful lot of trouble...

David Bowie had been absent from Britain for three years and to herald his triumphant return to these shores an elaborate arrival at Victoria Station was planned. David hates flying so of course he returned to the UK via France and the boat train, he stepped off the train and into the waiting open topped Mercedes limousine, then he was driven the short distance across Victoria Station to another platform where the car was able to back up towards the gates that held back the screaming hordes of fans gathered to welcome him home, he then stood up in the back of the car and waved to his adoring admirers, the whole thing lasted about 30 seconds before he was whisked off to a "secret destination" where he was staying for the duration of the Station to Station Tour.

I managed to grab two frames of this meager attempt at contact with his fan base and went straight home to process the film, it was on a Sunday so the NME needed the pictures first thing Monday morning. Sadly when I saw the negatives I realized that because I had been using fill in flash at 1/30th of a second my image was a little blurry and his hand had been reduced to a mere sliver, I figured that we could fix this in post, but post had not really been invented yet and what actually happened we that the IPC retouchers attempted to draw a hand onto his arm, unfortunately as we were on

! deadline nobody saw what they had done and when the image appeared in that weeks Teasers he appeared to be giving a Nazi Salute.

Of course everyone assumed this to be true and given that he had been mouthing off about Dictators in Belgium everyone assumed he was a Hitler loving Nazi.

David later commented in an interview that I had merely caught him in mid wave, Gary Numan was in with the fans and agreed, I had just not wanted him not to have a wimpy hand but the whole thing was blown out of all proportion and called the "Victoria Station Incident" which you can find on Wikipedia.

To be honest the other photo of the Policemen and screaming fans is far better, there were not really that many people there but the camera is always good at lying and did a pretty good job on this occasion.

! Frampton Comes Alive, if ever there was phenomenon in the mid 70's then this was it. He was a cute blonde, formerly of Humble Pie, he took America by storm wearing a Baby Blue Satin Suit and by releasing a Live Double Album.

Eventually of course he came back to the UK, and the chaos continued, his Photo Call attracted more photographers than I had ever seen assembled for a PopStar. It was a Zoo, there was no way of getting close, no chance of a decent picture, in fact I nearly went home thinking it was a pointless exercise.

But, then I spotted a dark and dimly lit staircase, I ventured up it and found myself on a deserted balcony, the perfect place for pictures, of course he was small in the frame, and sitting next to his Manager, Dee Anthony, he certainly looked small.

I got my picture, it was pretty good too, there he was, surrounded by photographers, and looking straight at me. The paper loved it and ran it big. People wondered how I did it, how could I get him to look right at me.

It was easy, I just shouted "Peter, Up Here" at the top of my voice. Job done...

! The Feelgood's were pretty much the NME house band back in the mid seventies, we would review them at any opportunity and I had become friends with them via Jake Riviera. They had an animal intensity about them, but also a purity, a raw, sexual, hard and intense kind of purity. Lee in his white suit doing the splits and jerking off with the microphone, Wilko machine gunning the audience with his guitar and zig zagging around the stage like a maniac, plus with Sparko on Bass and the Big Figure on drums they had a magnificent and stoic rhythm section.

A couple of the most memorable gigs were actually parties, Led Zeppelin made the mistake of inviting them to play the post gig party they threw after the dates at Earls Court in 1975.

Playing in quite a large room somewhere in the depths of that huge semi deco building that bands like the Zep’s and Floyd somehow made intimate, the Feelgood's turned a lot of heads away from the bar, it was a short set but a lively one, I often wonder if the short set was because Peter Grant, Led Zeppelin's manager, did not want people to forget the real reason people were there, to see Page and Co give an American sized show in the UK. Plant preening and Page with his Violin bow and laser was impressive up to a point, and eighteen thousand punters went home happy but it was the other four piece, the ones from Canvey Island I enjoyed the most, they played their hearts out, just like they always did.

! They also played the NME party in 1976 at Dingwalls, packed to the rafters they ripped the place up with their own brand of Rock and Roll. That night Ian Dury arrived with a razor blade on his earring, Punk was just around the corner.

They also played the benefit to Save the Hope and Anchor, an awesome venue in North London, playing in a basement with sweat dripping off the ceiling, it was so crowded you could hardly breathe, they put in one of the best live shows I had ever seen.

Despite knowing them so well I only shot them offstage the once, and sadly this was after Wilco had left the band. It was in Belfast, and I was not really prepared for the shock of seeing the true side of Northern Ireland.

Nothing prepares you for Belfast in the 70's. You begin to realize it's going to be different at Heathrow, no carry on bags whatsoever, triple checks on your luggage which is then wrapped in a plastic bag. Then as you go to board the plane you see your luggage again, sitting on the tarmac ready for you to identify before its loaded into the hold.

At Belfast Airport you see the Army everywhere, and that's how it is for the whole trip, no matter where you go the British Army is always just around the corner.

You have a choice of places to stay, the most Bombed Hotel in Europe, or the second most Bombed Hotel in Europe. We chose the latter.

On the way to the Soundcheck I asked if we could stop and take photos at one of the many fortified .pubs that we passed along the way. It was the Crescent Bar in Sandy Row which had been bombed in 1974, notice all the windows are bricked up and the cage covering the entrance so you can't firebomb it. This shows the grim reality of Belfast, the feeling of a city under the occupation of the British Army.

The show went well, Irish audiences are always supportive but I reckon these people in Belfast were even more passionate than usual.

The Hotel was located outside the city and on the way back our van was stopped by a patrol, a bunch of squaddies emerged and ordered us out of our vehicle. We were told to stand up against a wall, our legs were kicked apart and we were quickly searched as soldier pointed his machine gun directly at us. they went thru the van and then gruffly told us to be on our way. For once we had not been singled out because we were from the world of Rock and Roll, we were simply being treated like everyone else who lived there.

It was a little scary, but it was enlightening, you now knew a little of what it was like to live in Belfast, nobody spoke in the van when we continued our journey, we just sat and reflected on the sad, harsh reality of Northern Ireland under British Rule.

! I first came across Lemmy when he was Hawkwind's Roadie, back in the days of the lovely Stacia, who always seemed to end up dancing naked on the stage, he then moved up to the rank of Bass Player before forming Motörhead, I saw some of their earliest gigs when they were a four piece and was far from impressed, but then I saw the slimmed down lineup at the Marquee Club, it included a guest appearance by Mick Farren, they sounded great, Lemmy had found the right formula and fame and fortune were just down the road.

The next time I photographed the and they had moved up the ladder quite a bit. I often used well known locations in my photos and so I decided to take Motörhead to the Royal Aircraft Museum in Hendon, it seemed quite fitting, putting Lemmy, Eddie Clarke and Philthy Phil underneath a Stuka Bomber. I'm not sure the people at the Museum were too happy, but, as always, we grabbed the pictures in a matter of minutes and exited the building as quickly as possible.

I would never have guessed they would still be going nearly four decades later, and still sound exactly the same as when they started.

! Tales of Keith Moon destroying Hotel Rooms are legendary but photos of him in the act are rare, whilst this is not at the Riot (Hyatt) House it still has a good tale to tell.

The Scottish Daily Express had managed, with the help of Who PR Keith Altham, to get the Barrel Organ from the Film version of Tommy shipped up to Parkhead Stadium in Glasgow, home to Celtic Football Club and the venue for one of the "Who Put The Boot In" outdoor shows in 1976. They then ran a competition for someone to help Moon demolish it.

Keith is pictured here in action, aided by a young Glaswegian, as you can imagine there was quite a crowd of people watching this, but, slowly but surely the crowd thinned out and even the young kid moved away from the organ. Of course Keith continued and I remained to capture this classic moment for posterity. Then came this massive explosion and parts of the organ were sent flying into the air in pieces, these rained down on Moon and I and also brought a number of Policemen to the scene.

John Woolf, the Who's lighting man and the person who first brought lasers into Rock and Roll had decided that adding a little gunpowder and some smoke bombs to the mix would make the event much more interesting. He was known to us as Wiggy because he had been bald at birth, and his sense of humor and ability to join in the act when anything was being destroyed was legendary, unfortunately a few years later he was banned from touring because of his antics. Nobody was hurt this time but he sure shocked the hell out of me, Keith of course carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

! This was one of the best double bills ever, Thin Lizzy with Graham Parker and the Rumour, the 1977 US Tour. Both bands were at the peak of their powers, the Lizzy line up included Brian Robertson and GP had the Horn Section to give them a really awesome and powerful sound.

Philip asked me to take some pictures of the Band and also of himself and Graham so I went off to look for locations. Being the summer it was brutally hot in Phoenix and I had to drive around in the limo to look for good places to shoot. It was then that I went out to the desert to find a location for the Lizzy pictures, it seemed an obvious place to go, I was surprised other bands had not done it and then of course a decade later U2 took it to the next level when Anton took them to the Joshua Tree.

When I got back to Phoenix I found a great crossroads that I thought would be good for Philip and GP, being Brits we loved the Walk, Don't Walk, signs on the corner. This location had a great feel to it so I went back to the hotel and called them both up.

We had done a number of shots when I walked a block down the street and saw the two guys sitting on the steps by the side of the building. I got Philip and Graham to stand by the lights and I moved quite a distance away, the guys were small in the frame, but it seemed totally appropriate to do this. It made for a beautiful and highly memorable image. To have the Musicians small and the background big was unusual, it was something I continued to do in the future, small band, big background, it really worked when the Band was not so interesting, just shove them in front of the Taj Mahal, it will always save you.

! In 1978, Charles Shaar Murray and I flew to New York to spend some time with Elvis and the Attractions, who, as an added bonus had Mighty Martin Belmont and Nick Lowe with them. The idea was for us to do two cover stories for the NME, one on Elvis and one on Nick.

It took us a day and a half to get there, we missed the NY gig arriving just in time to meet up with the Band and fly to Buffalo the following day, EC hated flying but we had no choice, the snow was so deep that the roads were blocked and the only way to get there was by plane.

! I figured it would be totally brilliant to go to Niagara Falls to take pictures, Jake Riviera agreed, but, when we got there it was so fucking cold we were all literally frozen the minute we got out of the car. I made EC and the Attractions line up outside but it was not much of a photo, just four freezing chaps hoping they could get back in the warm as soon as possible. But Basher, as Nick was then known, a nickname given to him by his father, seemed to have no problem with the weather, he stood with his jacket open and suggested he and I get a closer look at the Falls. We wandered over to the edge...

I had never seen anything like it, the spray from the Falls was just piled up snow, the water flowed beneath the ice as the river was frozen over. I think the temperature, including wind chill was -40.

! I don't even know where to start when trying to describe Ian Dury. He was totally one of a kind.

This photo is taken at his Dentist's, on the eve of his first American Tour, he wanted to show them his Britishness, so he had the Union Jack enameled on his lower teeth. Yup, you read that right.

It was his twist on Stiff Upper Lip, when we had the first NME Xmas party at Dingwalls, Ian showed up with a razor blade as an earring, the first person to do this in what was emerging as Punk, now he basically had a tattoo on his teeth.

He also had a language all of his own, I always remember him in New York, at the end of that American Tour. We wanted to go to the Statue of Liberty, to take that British Flag there, but we needed cab fare, so he went over to his Manager, Pete Jenner, "Give me some Shitters! I need to go somewhere with Chalkie, I need my Shitters" I never forgot that phrase.

! I was so psyched that I was going to photograph Robbie Robertson, he was staying at the Savoy and was one of my favourite musicians. Unfortunately, when I arrived at his Suite he was looking pretty rough, when I suggested that we go outside to do the photos he reacted somewhat like a Vampire being asked to leave his coffin before nightfall. But, I was ever persuasive and he kindly agreed, however once he got in the Elevator he immediately sat down on the leather seat in the back, having never seen a seat in an elevator before I decided that as he was unlikely to be able to leave it, he might as well stay where he was and we could do the photos in the lift.

He was quite relieved when I suggested this. "Had a rough night did you?" I asked after hitting the button for the final frame, "Yea, Jack's in town and you know how he likes to party" came the reply. Of course what he was referring to was that Jack Nicholson was in London to Film The Shining with Stanley Kubrick, this is what even the most hardy Rock Star looks like after a night out with "Jack"...

! I was really lucky when it came to Guitarists, I got to meet and work with the finest players in the world. When I was told that I could go and shoot Lowell George my heart skipped a number of beats, this was the only man who could compete with Ry Cooder when it came to slide guitar, he was an ex member of the Mothers of Invention, but best of all his band, Little Feat, had been given their name by none other than Jimmy Carl Black (Hi, I'm Jimmy Carl Black and I'm the Indian of the Group! He proclaimed on Only In It For The Money, my all time favourite Mothers Album)

Lowell was staying in Room 309 at the Montcalm Hotel near Marble Arch, a little known luxury Hotel that catered almost exclusively to American clients, especially Bands, when Lowell answered the door he was bedraggled and more than a little in need of some herbal remedy, I obliged by bringing out some of London's finest, we bonded immediately and started to chat, his condition that day was a result of spending the last 24 hours in the company of Keith Richards, another guest at the Hotel, Keith loved Lowell and both had enjoyed each others company to the full.

His room was packed with recording equipment as he was working on new material for their next Album. He was in town because Little Feat were on the bill with The Who for their 'Who Put The Boot In' trio of Football Stadium Gigs, also on the Bill were my friends the Alex Harvey Band, hearing that I was friends with Alex, Lowell suggested that I come along for the ride and it took less than a nanosecond for me to agree.

! So I got to hang with them at the shows, in the dressing room there seemed to be a lot of tension, something was not right but I could not put my finger on it, the shows were indescribably good but I soon found out that all was not well when I tried to get them to pose for a Group Shot in Glasgow, they refused, certain members would not stand in a line with others for something as simple as a photograph. This was nothing new, I had the same problem with the Who at the previous show, I was quickly discovering that band members did not actually have to like each other in order to produce incredible music together.

Anyway, I digress, just as I was finishing my photos of Lowell I suggested that as there was recording tape everywhere he should just gather it all up and throw it in the air, he willingly obliged and here is the result. Lord knows how he put all those pieces of tape back in the right order after I left, not my problem I figured...

! In 1977 I was pretty fearless, I was happy in my role of NME's Snapper to the Stars and I enjoyed mixing with the Fleet Street Mob at Events, one such occasion was at Mohammed Ali's Press Conference at the Cafe Royale on Regents Street, he was promoting his new Record, on Arista I think, but when I arrived the Photo Op was over, Ali was perched on a table at the end of the room and was feeding his Baby Daughter from a bottle. There was a long row of tables down the centre of the room, occupied by journalists who were asking Ali questions, I refused to be beat when I was told I could not take pictures, so I got underneath the long table and climbed down it in between the journalists legs and feet, eventually I reached the end and waited for my chance. I let him start a long and very funny answer and then just popped out of the end of the table, I stood up and grabbed three frames, but I think I scared the shit out of him! He regained composure and stared down at me with a scolding look on his face, I smiled, said thank you and turned and left, quickening my pace to hasten my exit. It's actually a pretty good Snap, Ali giving out the wisdom and feeding a bottle of milk to his young daughter.

! I grew up listening to Top Gear, I would lock my bedroom door and savour every minute, to me, Eric Clapton was not God, John Peel was. I first met him right at the beginning of my career as a Rock Photographer at one of those almost daily lunchtime events the Record Companies had back then. He introduced me to his Producer, John Walters, and the Deputy Head of Radio One, a wonderful man called Teddy Warwick. Peel was totally down to earth and was happy for me to join their table at these events, I had found the perfect set of friends, sort of father figures, but really just people like myself who lived for the music. I felt honoured.

Then along came Punk and I suggested to Hip Young Gunslinger Tony Parsons that we should do a piece on Peel for the NME, after all why not interview the DJ who was championing the new music. And so we went along one night to BBC Radio in that magnificent old building at the top of Regent Street. The Security Man at the front entrance insisted on personally taking us to the Studio, he was right as we never would have found this place on our own. Peel was down in the bowels of the building, working in a tiny studio that was occupied by others in the daytime but became his haven at night. There was nothing on the walls and only an Engineer thru the glass in the Control Room. It was a magical evening for me just sitting and watching Peel present the show, he read a copy of Sounds between tracks, he had no shame. Afterwards he gave me a lift home in his Range Rover, but instead of dropping me off at Hammersmith like we agreed he insisted on driving me all the way out to Hounslow where I lived in my tiny garrett. He loved this photo that I took that night, sitting with his shoes off and with his feet up on the mixing desk.

! Sometimes it can be a struggle, other times it can feel like a nightmare, in fact the pressure you feel when you are not getting the image you need can be immense.

And blaming the sitter is not the answer, and blaming yourself is sometimes pointless too. It's just how it is, sometimes the chemistry just does not work properly.

Shooting "environmental portraiture" to give it a fancy title, has its merits. You can hide the band within the background, or make them stand out from it, you can give the viewer stuff to look at, create a mood or suggest an attitude, I certainly did my fare share of this, but after a while it got predictable, I wanted to do something else with these people, I wanted to strip away everything but themselves, to put them in front of a plain piece of paper, all they needed was the presence to overcome it.

I thought the Slits would have it in spades, after all they were a powerful bunch of women, they had a tough look, this should have been easy.

But it wasn't at all, they were very uncomfortable in the studio, it was obvious immediately, but now I had them there I had to pull something from the shoot, it became an impossible situation, they just messed around, they would not stand still, I could not get the attention of all four at one time, it was a disaster. There were four frames left on the roll, I told them the ordeal was nearly over, and suddenly, in unison they all put their hands out like in a musical, I finished the roll on a roll, as they say.

! After developing the film I saw that there was just one image that was any good, the last but one frame, in it each one drops their guard for that split second you need, it looks natural, spontaneous, happy even. The happiness probably comes from the relief that the shoot was over, I think the spontaneity too is for that reason, but the natural look, that comes from within.

The relief I felt seeing this one frame was huge, bands often don't like the studio, however I did, and if it did not work then only I am to blame, failure is not an option, but a quick prayer can often help you to avoid it.

! ! ! There is no better example of the term Photogenic than Debbie Harry. Blessed with incredible charisma, a fabulous smile and a head just a touch larger then normal, she is someone you can't really take a bad photo of.

The first image is a totally candid photo, she has just sat herself down in a chair after giving a very small Press Conference on her first visit to the UK. The word was only just getting out, not many people were there at this event in a small hotel in Knightsbridge, but within three months she would be a huge star in the UK

However, the photo gives the impression of great intimacy despite her being totally unaware that I was hidden behind a pillar. I took only three frames but the way her face reacts to the gaze of the camera is quite remarkable. Her charisma is cinematic in scale, a white shirt and jeans is the simplest of looks, but in her case they just make you stare back at her, looking in awe at her radiance and sheer beauty.

I had met Debbie and Chris Stein earlier that year in New York and the friendship we had established then continued on the numerous times our paths crossed, I particularly remember the killer triple bill of Elvis Costello, Rockpile and Blondie playing a number of shows together in New York, Connecticut and New Jersey in mid 1978. On a couple of nights Mink De Ville also performed, these shows were magical events in terms of the music and artists involved.

On the date at the Palladium in New York, Andy Warhol sat in the middle of the audience, his white wig shining like a beacon of light in the stalls. After Rockpile's set he ventured backstage and stood in line at the Dressing Room door, Dave Edmunds walked straight past him, totally blanking on Warhol and wondering who the hell that "cunt with the white wig" was that had blocked his route to shake hands with some old friends in the tiny backstage corridor.

The studio image was done in late 1978 for an NME cover. By this time I was determined to get as many people into the studio as possible, believing that this was the way forwards, outdoor backgrounds and hotel rooms no longer really interested me, that the simplicity of the studio background revealed far more of their character was my logic.

Unfortunately this shoot was booked for 10am and the night before, Debbie, Chris and I had all been up till nearly dawn. This was long before stylists and make up artists became the norm. Debbie just quickly applied her own make up, sat on the stool and flashed those gleaming white teeth in my direction.

! The problem became obvious immediately, her eyes were bloodshot and weary, she had no problem projecting the image I needed at the camera, it was perfect, but I needed to do something about those eyes. So, the Rock and Roll safety net came into play, I handed her a pair of large Ray Ban sunglasses. Problem solved.

Nowadays that might be an issue for the cover of a magazine but back then nobody cared, I gave Debbie precise instructions to get her head in exactly the right place for the strobe umbrella to reflect in the shades and give the two white reflections. Being a little hungover myself I simple told Debbie to mimic the cover of David Bowie's Heroes as a starting point, banging out half a roll before we reached the image with curved palmed hands and I knew we had the picture we needed, I stopped shooting after five more frames, there was no point in taking more pictures once you know you have the shot in the bag. I pulled back to make the image full length, shot half a dozen more frames and then made life easier, telling Debbie to lie on the floor in her Valentino (the actor or not the designer) T shirt and we spent a couple of minutes shooting the inside spread.

The whole thing took less than thirty minutes, in and out, but with Debbie Harry sitting in front of your lens 85% of the battle is already won.

! ! This picture is pretty good, in fact it's one of my best live images. However, the story behind it is even better...

It was 1978, I was on EC's 2nd American Tour and we were at the El Mocambo in Toronto, my working method was to watch the show a couple of times and then pick only two or three numbers in which to get the best shots, as I had to use flash in small Clubs it meant I was active for the minimum amount of time possible. One of the numbers I picked was Watching the Detectives.

Sure enough, halfway thru the song Elvis dropped to his knees and I hit the button at exactly the right second, I was mightily pleased with myself and started to walk back to the Bar. Suddenly his Manager, Jake Riviera, pounced on me "You can't use that photo!" Excuse me? "You can't use that photo! Ever!" What do you mean? It's a great shot. "I don't give a shit, you can't use it." Sorry man, I'm working for the NME today, you can't stop me. "Yes I can, I don't want that picture published." Fuck you! It's a brilliant picture, he's halfway thru Detectives and just about to hit the floor on his knees. "I know, that's why you can't use it!" What are you talking about? He does it every night, I just got the perfect picture. "Agreed, and that's why you can't use it" Huh? "Look, he does it every night and the audience loves it, but, I don't want them to know he always does it, I want them to think he is doing it just for them, I want the audience to think they are special." OK but if I don't use it then you have to make me EC's Official Photographer, if you do then I'll agree. "Done"

The photo lay unseen for thirty years, it was in a time capsule with all the other great images I had taken of EC but never used, then in 2008 Elvis rang me up asking for any unpublished photos from the early days to use as the cover for his first Compilation Album for Universal. I suggested we use a slightly different frame to one of the postcards from Armed Forces, the one we used 70 feet tall in front of the Dominion, he was sold, then I brought out the El Mocambo photo. "Wow, that's incredible, how come I never saw that one, its fantastic." I told him the story about Jake wanting the audience to feel special. "I never knew Jake thought like that, on such a grand scale." There is lots you don't know about how Jake thought, that's why he was a Genius at masterminding your career.

Jake may have had his faults, he may have rubbed most people the wrong way, but, you can never deny that the only thing he cared about were his Artists, he would do anything to protect or promote them.

Rock and Roll is such a wonderful thing, especially back then in the late seventies...

! ! When Iggy Pop released The Idiot to great acclaim in 1977 he went on his first ever solo tour, his friend David Bowie played keyboards, this meant that the early shows were off bounds to the press, David's management feared that he would be the center of attention and banned journalists and photographers from the first few gigs.

Responding to the challenge Tony Parsons and I went up to see the show at the Manchester Apollo, we bought a pair of tickets from scalpers and I sneaked my cameras into the theatre by strapping two long lenses to my ankles and shoving the camera body down the front of my pants, the security people let us pass without discovering the cameras.

We had good tickets and were pretty close to the front, fearing getting caught I left my cameras alone for most of the show. Then luckily for me when I did bring it out he struck the pose you see here, even sticking his tongue out. I grabbed the shot and put the camera back on the floor, I then shot some more frames during the encores.

There are very few live pictures in this book, mainly because they rarely show you anything other than a long haired bloke with a guitar, or a preening pop star wearing the latest trendy clothes and haircut. But I think this photo sums up Jimmy Osterburg really well, it catches him at exactly the right moment in his performance, the NME liked it too, it ran as the next weeks cover, even though we had only a live review and no interview with him or anything about David Bowie.

But there is a little more to the story, something we never told our Editors at the NME.

We returned to the hotel after the show and got in the elevator, but, just as the doors were almost closed they opened up again, in walked David and his bodyguards. Tony and I were pushed to the back of the elevator, too dumbstruck to know what to do, we said nothing and Bowie got off at the seventh floor, we got off at the eighth

! Patti Smith, live at the Roundhouse in 1976, nothing more needs to be said..

! ! Jerry Lee Lewis, aka the Killer...for four days Mick Farren and I followed a White Rolls Royce around Britain, in it were Jerry Lee and his Child Bride, we wanted to interview him and take his picture which we were told we could do, when he checked into his Hotel we were there, when he got to the Gig we were at the Backstage Entrance, when he got back to his Hotel we were waiting, but, he ignored us completely, except on the last night he said "Good Evening Gentlemen" as he brushed past us to get to his Dressing Room at the Birmingham Odeon. I don't think anyone ever told him who we were, they were all too frightened I think...

But, even simple pictures tell stories too, check the pants and white shoes, the rolled up shirt cuffs, the badly beaten piano with the corner abused nightly by his right foot. The piano stool has been kicked over and the mike is real low for a standing position singer...

It's Showtime Folks, he is playing Great Balls of Fire...

! ! You could describe my life as pure luck, not in getting the picture each time, that part was relatively easy, but just in terms of who I got to see and the circumstances under which saw them. This photo definitely comes into that category.

Back in the 70's the Record Companies were flush with cash and were happy spending it on themselves. CBS took this to the extreme with their Annual Conventions, these multi day events consisted of flying hundreds of Record Co Execs to some exotic location and then have their best Artists perform for them, Bruce Springsteen played the 1975 one in New Orleans. In 1977 they had it in London, on the morning of the first day Elvis Costello started busking on the street outside the Grosvenor Park Hotel, his hope was to get the attention of the CBS people, instead he became a person of interest to the Police and got arrested. Luckily he got out of jail in time to play Dingwalls later that night.

The highlight of the Convention was a performance by the Beach Boys on the final night. I was pretty good at sneaking into places unnoticed and so, along with my friend Kevin, we slipped into the Ballroom via the service entrance in mid afternoon. I did not know if we would see anything but it was worth a try. We were hiding behind piles of stacked chairs when the place started to get quite active. Then, in front of out star struck eyes, out came the Beach Boys to do a Soundcheck. Better yet, Brian Wilson was with them, he had not bern seen in public or performed with them since his breakdown and in NME land this was scoop central.

I stayed hidden for the first three numbers, behind Brian was his Doctor/Psychiatrist who would massage his shoulders between numbers, he also shouted out the words to the songs acting as a sort of full time prompter to the shell shocked looking Brian. Figuring that they might only do four songs I took my chance and darted out from my hiding place, I scurried to the front of the stage and took five very quick frames before running out of the Ballroom, thru the Hotel Lobby and out on to Park Lane.

I had my photo and nobody was going to take it away from me. After developing it I noticed the two teacups on the floor in front of their feet. To me it really adds to the impact of the image by adding just a hint of the surreal to it. As I said I was really fucking lucky, I really did have the best job in the world...

! ! In early 1977 Mick Farren and I went to New York together to check out the Punk Scene, we also did a piece on the Grateful Dead but that's another matter entirely.

Mick was one of the original Punks, he described his band The Deviants as somewhere between the Stooges and the Mothers of Invention. He also wrote for International Times and was a major part of the Ladbroke Grove subculture.

He joined the NME in 1975 developing the Thrills section of the paper and took me under his wing, we had many adventures together, most involved alcohol, in fact he wrote about the time he nearly fell out of a tenth floor Hotel window at the Country Music Festival. The piece was titled "Falling Over Gets You Accepted"

He also wrote the justly celebrated "Titanic Sails At Dawn" piece for the NME in which he pointed all that was wrong with 70's Rock Music and it very much foretold the coming of Punk.

We did all the usual things, and went to all the usual places, Max's Kansas City, The Bottom Line, The Ocean Club, and of course made the pilgrimage to Hilly Crystal's CBGB's club on the Bowery. This is where I first met his friend Lester Bangs, the truly legendary American Rock Critic who wrote for Creem magazine and who lived life to its absolute fullest until he sadly passed away in 1982.

We checked out the local bands, went to Nathan's in Coney Island for hot dogs, spent time with Chris Stein and Debbie Harry and scored a bunch of free lunches and LP's from the Record Companies, including a memorable one with Seymour Stein, the head of Sire Records, he had put out all the British Invasion LP's in the sixties and he pretty much cleaned up when he signed all the best new wave bands including the Talking Heads, The Ramones and The Pretenders.

The main event of our stay was to interview and photograph the Ramones, their first LP had just come out, Glue Sniffing was the new trendy (and dangerously stupid) thing to do. Their Manager Danny Fields, a music biz legend himself, set us up to go to Joey Ramone's apartment on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

Joey lived just off the Bowery, walking distance from CBGB's and not exactly one of Manhattan's most salubrious neighborhoods, all the Ramones were gathered in this small apartment Joey shared with his girlfriend Linda. We figured it best if we did the photos first, then I would leave Mick to do his interviews, I had somewhere in mind that I thought would make a good place for pictures.

At the time this part of Manhattan was very run down, the Bowery was pretty much skid row with transient hotels, bums sleeping in doorways, garbage strewn everywhere and was the perfect place for a Punk club. I had spotted an alleyway that ran off Houston Street, it had all the requisite details, garbage was strewn everywhere and it seemed like the perfect spot.

! I posed the band in a number of places, up against the proverbial wall, in front of a fence, all those Punk cliches in fact. The best pictures showed the view down the alley and while we were shooting a couple of homeless people wandered towards us, I thought we were going to get hassled but in fact all they wanted to do was take a leak, we watched silently as they did this.

Being so tall I hid Joey at the back, having them in a row looked a little odd with him being so tall, the photo made the cover of the NME, CSM came up with the cover line "Gabba, Gabba Hey in New York".

I had fallen in love with New York, Mick moved there the following year, I followed a decade later...

! ! It was March 1978 at I was down at Top of the Pops with Jake Riviera and Nick Lowe, we were hanging around between the Rehearsal and the taping of the Show, it was Nick's first appearance and he was all dressed up in his Riddler Suit waiting to perform Breaking Glass. Then I spotted Andy Williams on the other side of the Studio.

You were not supposed to have cameras but of course I had one hidden under my jacket, I grabbed Nick and marched him over to where Andy was standing. "Just go and talk to him" I said, "What about" said Nick, "I dunno, anything, tell him you want to produce his next record, just keep him talking long enough for me to get three frames, then we just leg it before I get caught taking photos in here" So Nick goes over and starts to say something to Andy, he has no clue who in the hell we are or why i'm trying to take pictures, the encounter lasts about 20 seconds before I run back over to the other side of the Studio where Jake is standing.

"I've got it!" "What?" "Pictures of Nick and Andy Williams, it's brilliant, a total set up and he fell for it" I was smiling gleefully, "Excellent" said Jake as he smiled back with that wonderful Puckish grin he used to sport so well. The picture ran in the following weeks NME and a legendary photo made it's only appearance in print.

I posted an alternate frame on Facebook, it coincided with Nick's gig at Town Hall here in New York. After the show were were hanging around backstage when someone showed Nick the photo on a cellphone, "A total ambush" he said immediately, "the poor bastard had no chance, he had no clue who we were or what we were doing" Of course that is totally true but I don't regret it for a moment. If I had not taken it then I could not post it here in recognition of the sad news of his death earlier today. He was a good sport, he could easily have had me thrown out, but, luckily he didn't...

! ! On the one hand this is just a picture of a Rock Star waiting for the plane at an Airport, Cleveland in fact, but, it is one of my favourite photos of Philip, he is relaxed and happy with the glint in his eye that made all the girls fall for him. If you ever wondered what he was really like then this picture kind of sums him up...

Philip was my best friend, soulmate and housemate, I have yet to write about him properly...

! ! Nancy Spungen died 34 years ago, I remember shooting her with Sid in Phil Lynott's bathroom, that photo ran on the cover of the next week's NME, they used to come to Anson Road quite often when we lived there, they were not what you would expect either, no showing off, no being totally out of it, they respected Philip a great deal and just came across as this sweet and highly delicate, yet volatile, couple. Philip enjoyed entertaining the Punks, especially Mick and Joe from the Clash, and the inimitable Cook and Jones, I remember fondly one night when he tried to teach Sid a little bit about Bass playing, but, most of all Sid and Nancy just loved coming over and watching the Elvis Presley Movies that Philip had on this big old Sony Video Recorder, once, we went to bed around 5am and they were still watching Elvis, when we got up the next day we saw that they had tidied up the living room before leaving, not your usual Sid and Nancy story, she was highly intelligent, a little difficult perhaps, but, she looked after Sid and her world revolved around him, who knows what happened that night, personally I don't think it was murder, manslaughter perhaps, most likely the result of an accident during an argument. It devastated Sid and we all know what happened after that, the great late Lester Bangs put it this way...

A young woman is dead. I don’t care. You probably don’t care. The police don’t care. The papers don’t care. The punks for the most part don’t care. The only people that care are (I suppose) her parents and (I’m almost certain) the boy accused of murdering her.

I cared, and so did Philip...

! ! The chance came up for the NME to interview Paul McCartney, it was quite surprising as we were not likely to be favourable to his music, this being in the days of Punk and since Band on the Run his albums had not been that great.

I was told that I could have 15 minutes, I was to photograph the Wings Triumvirate of Paul, Linda and Denny Laine. I could also do Paul and Linda and that maybe if I was lucky Paul might pose alone.

That idea sucked in my mind, nobody was interested in Wings, just Paul, how could I guarantee to get him on his own, I figured I could go thru the motions with the three of them and then somehow I needed convince Paul to let me shoot him separately.

It was all to occur under the watchful eye of their PR, Tony Brainsby, he told me he would have a stopwatch ready so that I did not push my luck and get more time! I just love pressure on important shoots, this sounded like great fun (not)...

It was to take place at Twickenham Film Studios, Paul had made some promo films there and was mixing the sound, I was going to be able to set up a mini studio, at least that was in my favor.

But what could I do to snare Paul into posing alone? I figured that this was probably my only ever chance to do a Beatle, so I figured I might as well go for broke. Then it hit me, there was one thing that usually worked with potentially difficult subjects, I could make him laugh.

So off I went to Berman and Nathan's, they supplied costumes for movies, I wanted to get a Beatle Suit, the one with no collar if possible. I went there, they did not have the collarless one but they had another that was an exact match for one of their outfits. I also rented a button down shirt and a thin black tie. Then I went to Carnaby Street and bought a pair of Wnklepickers. My outfit was complete.

When I got to Twickenham Tony Brainsby nearly had a heart attack, then he saw the funny side of what I was doing, he showed me where to set up my equipment. I got everything ready.

Right on time Tony brought the three principals into the room, Denny Laine rolled his eyes at me, Linda looked a little confused, but Paul laughed loudly and came over to shake my hand. I did them as a trio (boring) then P and L as a duo (loving) and then asked Paul if I could grab a frame or two on his own (smiling)...

The problem was that he was wearing this awful London Town T-shirt, gotta promote the record, right. The picture looked OK but was nothing special, so I threw out my usual line, one I pinched from Nick Lowe. "Can you throw a few shapes, Paul?" You really needed a guitar to do this but I thought it might get some kind of reaction. "I can do this" he said, closing one eye and opening the other one wide. It looked pretty

! great, it was not a wink, but it was an interesting looking pic. I got one frame off before Tony stepped in and said that my fifteen minutes with fame was up.

He started to usher them out of the room but instead of leaving Paul came over to me, "Are you busy? Do you have to go anywhere? If not why not hang with us for a bit." I was unprepared for this, Tony looked at me suspiciously, "I have to get the suit back by five, but I'm free until then."

Paul took me into the mixing room, the famed Producer Chris Thomas was there, Paul just started chatting to me, asking me things about myself, what music I liked, that kind of stuff. He seemed impressed that Phil Lynott was my flatmate, said he liked Thin Lizzy. Then he asked Chris to play me a couple of tracks, he took a spliff out of his top pocket. Things were looking up.

The picture was great, it looked good in the paper and the interview was actually pretty kind to him, I figured that was the end of it.

A few months later I got asked to do the Official Wings Christmas Card. I went to Abbey Road, again Paul was very friendly. The following year Tony Brainsby rang me one afternoon, "Sit down, Chalkie, I have a bit of news for you."

It turned out Paul was thinking of asking me to be the Photographer for the upcoming Wings Tour, he told me to go down to Rye where the band was rehearsing to meet with Paul.

When I got there they were in the middle of rehearsals, I sat down in the stalls, the Theatre was empty except for the Road Crew. Paul put down his Bass and moved to the Piano, he started to play 'Something' I have to admit it sent shivers up my spine, but then halfway thru he looked directly at me and added Chalkie to the lyrics, a Beatle had sung a song to me, with my name in it. I was in, and renting that suit was the best thing I ever did...

! ! Shooting NME covers gave me a chance to get better access and thus take better photos, one of my favourite covers is this image of Dave Edmunds. Rockpile was one of the finest Bands around, Nick and Dave alternated solo releases and it was Dave's turn.

My idea was to show that Dave was the fastest guitar player in the west, the first time I ever saw him live was at the Radio One Club broadcast from Cardiff's Top Rank in 1968, Love Sculpture performed Sabre Dance and I was hooked.

Of course this was all pre-computers and my plan was for Dave to have two guitars and three arms, luckily the inimitable Glen Coulson was Dave's PR and slightly smaller in size, I had him wear a similar leather jacket, hide behind Dave and put his left arm around and onto the second guitar neck. If you look carefully at Dave's feet you can just see a little part of Glen's shoes. This is only because of the HiRez scan, on the original cover people did not notice and many wondered how I did the photo. Days like this were great fun, life was cool and being a photographer was the best job in the world.

! ! One of the required things about being a Rock Photographer is the ability to shoot fast, actually it's to shoot good pictures fast. Looking back at my negatives I see NME covers shot in three frames, others done in less than a minute, even a long session used to last less than fifteen minutes, and that was to do a cover and also the feature photos. I think it's a good thing actually, keeps you on your toes, makes you think fast, makes you take only the good photos, you let the rest go by undocumented, film is money as they say...

This discipline applied in the studio too, shoots were often done in less than a single roll of 35mm, sessions could be achieved in less than half an hour, sometimes less than ten minutes. Why waste the Artist's valuable time, if you don't they remember and respect you for it, waffle around fiddling with the lights and you will lose the moment, because that's all you really need, and that's what your job is, capturing that moment.

This photo of Pere Ubu frontman David Thomas does just that. A huge man walked into the studio, my immediate reaction was to ask him to sit on the smallest stool, he graciously agreed, and see how great he looks here, his feet alone tell the story, his face lights up, he just looks adorable in every way.

He was in and out in fifteen minutes, five minutes to get to know him, five to shoot him, and five for him to have a second can of beer. I could have used the last five to increase the shooting part to ten minutes, but there was no point, the magazine was only going to run one photo, if I had gone in for the close up they would probably have used that instead, then you would not have seen his feet, read the body language, felt that this image gave you a truer insight into the man.

The magazine asked where the alternate images were, no time said I, only had five minutes and this is all I could get, you have to trust your instincts, and sometimes taking just a single photograph is what those instincts tell you to do.

! ! The more I worked in the Studio the more I enjoyed it, having done Elvis, The Clash, Debbie Harry and Pere Ubu I took on Heavy Metal in the shape of Judas Priest.

Rob Halford kind of stole the show.

He came in with this giant suitcase that was so heavy he could hardly lift it off the ground, and there was a long flight of stairs leading up to the studio, he was a little out of breath when he finally made it into the room, we were eager to see what was inside, and we were not disappointed either.

He pretty much had the entire line of the Pleasure Chest's leather and studded gear, belts, chest pieces, wristlets, arm bands, handcuffs and whips. Plus an adorable peaked leather hat. We encouraged him to put the stuff on, in fact we pretty much asked him to pile it all on, it seemed like fun, this was the Era of Robert Mapplethorpe, these kind of pictures were quite trendy at this time.

Wearing all this gear seemed to make him even shyer than he already was, difficult to believe that the lead singer of Judas Priest was shy, or maybe there was more too it. Perhaps he was a little self conscious about putting on all this stuff, we were not exactly subtle about it, openly encouraging him to look over the top. We never even thought about his sexuality, back then he was just another macho man type lead singer. And he did look pretty awesome wearing this stuff, a Brummie in bondage, the thought still makes me smile.

It was almost 20 years later he came out and announced he was gay, totally made sense of course, but what a long time had he carried this fact around in secret, in those late 70's days it was unthinkable that someone in a Heavy Metal Band was gay, it was ludicrous of course to think like that, and almost all of his fans supported that decision, he may have lost some bigots, but he gained legions of others following his announcement.

Good on you, Rob, you did the right thing.

! ! Ted Nugent first came to my attention when we put him on the cover of the NME dressed in a loincloth and holding a Bow and Arrow, the headline was "This man only eats food that he has killed himself."

I was at Ted's Hammersmith Odeon concert the night Elvis Presley died, we got the sad and shocking news between encores, and one of my photos from that night was used as the Cover for Teddy's Live Album.

Our paths crossed again in 1979 when he was in London to promote his latest record, I arranged to do something at his Hotel, when we got to his room I was speechless, this was something I had never seen before, I had seen female fans swarm round an artist but nothing quite like the ones Ted had collected.

There must have been twenty of them sitting on and around the bed of his Suite, they were all pretty much identical, very pretty, long blonde hair, American, and I doubt if any of them were above the age of sixteen. Quite how he hand picked them I don't know, and it did not seem like there was anything dodgy going on, I think he just liked having his room full of young and adoring female fans.

To their delight I asked Ted to remove his shirt, he did it onstage and I saw no reason for him not to do it offstage as well, he agreed and the girls all let out a little scream of excitement. We did a whole bunch of topless posed images. Then came the killer move, from my bag I produced one of those expanding muscle building aids from the Charles Atlas catalog. I passed it to Ted, he passed it back. "Come on you wimp, you kill animals with your bare hands, how can you not do this?"

Ted was not happy at being spoken to in this manner, I pointed at all the female worshipers in the room, "They want you to do it, so prove you are a real man and stretch this thing, I just need you to hold it for one frame, then you can let go, it can't be that difficult can it?"

"Can you do it? You do it first and then I'll have a go" no, you are the bloody Rock Star, prove how strong and mighty you are." He reluctantly agreed.

Unfortunately it was far from easy, he tried and tried, I snapped and snapped, but he just could not get it fully extended. He rested for a while, then he agreed to do it one last time, but only if I promised that if he failed I would not use any of the photos, I would just use the posed hunky ones with his shirt off that I had done at the beginning as a safety shot.

He gathered all his strength, bent double and pulled with all his might, somehow he managed to get it fully extended, I got this one frame before he let go and the thing nearly snapped his arms off in the recoil.

The things I got Rock Stars to do never ceased to amaze me, however, I wonder if he would have continued to try without his audience of pretty you blonde nubiles...

! ! It's amazing the things you can get people to do, just by asking, Mike Oldfield was quite the recluse, quiet as a church mouse, timid as one too. Then he changed overnight...

He put out a new record, he decided to go on tour, he agreed to do interviews, he said he would do anything anyone wanted him to do. The gauntlet was thrown down, albeit gently and gracefully.

I was asked to shoot him for a cover and wondered what I could persuade him to do, this was a long time before Annie Leibowitz got everyone to pose naked. But that was what I thought he should do, I don't know why, it just seemed like fun, to have him pretend to be a statue, The Discus Thrower, The Thinker. Classic statues, the ones everyone knows.

So when he got to the studio I proposed the idea, he jumped at it, immediately stripped naked in front of me, the journalist and his press person. Then I realized I had not got a reference photo, I knew the poses in my mind but Mike wanted to get it absolutely right. The journalist was dispatched to an Art Bookshop in High Holborn. Mike just sat there naked for nearly an hour while we waited for the books to arrive.

Once we had them he got into character, a naked character of course. We copied The Thinker perfectly, followed by The Discus Thrower. It took maybe 45 minutes.

Then, as easily as he had removed them he put his clothes back on. He thanked me, shook my hand, and left like it had been a perfectly normal shoot. I have to say I was pretty much in a daze, my crazy idea, him doing it without batting an eyelid, it was all so easy. For once I did not suffer for my art, it went like a dream, the next day I thought I might have dreamed it, but no, it was there on the negatives.

Funny old life I had back then, surreal at times, often hilarious, this was both...

! ! In 1978 the Rolling Stones released their last good Album, Some Girls, and they embarked on an American Tour to promote it. Roy Carr had known them pretty much since the beginning and he blagged their PR, Keith Altham, into letting us go on Tour and interview Keef.

I cannot express how much I looked forwards to the trip, Nick Kent had recently dubbed him "The World's Most Elegantly Wasted Human Being" and I figured I might not get another chance so off to St Louis we went.

They played, ironically enough, in the Opera House, a smaller venue than I expected and they put on a good show, well, except for Mick's stage clothes, they made him look well dodgy in my mind, but, this was America so who knows, he claimed the bright clothing made him stand out for the crowd, I thought they made him stand out in a crowd.

The next morning we flew down to New Orleans, the band were already there having flown directly from the previous nights gig in their plane. I had never been anywhere as hot and sticky as this place, once you got thru the doors at the Airport it was what I always called Hairdryer Weather, so hot and humid that with a slight breeze in the air it was almost like walking towards a giant hair dryer, being a Brit I was not used to weather, not this kind anyway.

I spent the afternoon at the swimming pool with Annie Nightingale, it was situated on the roof of the Hotel and we passed away the time drinking cocktails. After night had well and truly fallen I got the word that Keef would be happy for us to go up to his suite, two huge Security men sat outside the elevator, the Stones had taken the entire floor, for security reasons, Mick had the suite at one end of the corridor, Keef had the one at the other end.

He answered the door himself, beckoning us in to a room where a 24 hour party seemed to be ongoing, there were room service trolleys everywhere, members of the Meters were present as the Stones always had great support bands, and Ronnie Wood was there too.

Keef looked remarkably healthy, he had a suntan from a recent visit to his house in Jamaica, and looked to be in good shape physically as well, it was often rumored that he did this thanks to regular blood transfusions in Switzerland. He later denied this and said he just let the story go unanswered because it sounded cool, but, I remember that Pete Townshend often referred to him as "Bloodchange" so perhaps even Pete was drawn in by the myth.

He offered me a beer, grabbed a can of Imported Heineken and opened it for me, the foam went everywhere, he laughed and instantly grabbed a napkin and started wiping it off my clothes, quite the gentleman he was, this Mr Richards.

! Given the number of people in the outer room I asked if we could go somewhere else to do the photos, he told me to follow him into the bedroom. It was quite a sight, he had decorated it to make it more like home, scarves covered the lamps to give a nice diffused glow, he put some paintings and photos on the walls, and other personal bits and pieces were placed on the fireplace and the tables, he told me he always did this, that no matter how out if it he was he always decorated the bedroom the minute he got to a new hotel, it was so that when he woke up he felt at home, and it certainly looked like home to my eyes.

He was very cooperative for the camera, flashing his newly renovated teeth here and there, even smiling at times, not at all how I expected. Instead of some drugged out star he was alert and friendly, with a wicked grin and a great sense of mischief.

Once the pictures were over I sat on the edge of the bed with Ronnie Wood and hung out for a while, for a kid from Wales this was pretty cool, hanging in Keef's suite listening to a Ronnie Wood chop out licks on his guitar. After about half an hour Keef came back into the room and said he was going out to Burboun Street, to some Blues Clubs and would we like to go with him. I grabbed my camera bag and walked with him, Ronnie stopped off at his room to drop off his guitar so it was just Keef, a bodyguard and myself in the elevator.

When we reached the lobby the doors opened and it was full of Stones fans, the minute Keef walked out into the lobby they started applauding, it was surreal, surely this was the only man in the world who got a round of applause simply for still being alive.

The following day I went down in the elevator with Mick, same fans, but this time no applause, just autograph hunters. Mick may have been the big star, but Keef was most definitely the coolest man on the planet.

! ! I ended up at Freddie Mercury's house one night, it was just off Bond Street. I needed to use the bathroom so I went to look for one, I enjoyed exploring Rock Star's homes and I whizzed upstairs and took a look around, this place was more than a little opulent, Freddie always operated on a higher plane than us mere mortals and his house was no exception.

Priceless works of Art, incredible Japanese Kimonos, red carpets everywhere, you get the vibe. I wandered around a bit and then found the bathroom, the place was all made of gold, the faucets, the mirrors, the fixtures, everything was gold. In fact this bathroom had something I had never seen before, it had a phone by the toilet, a gold one, naturally. I could not stop myself, I just had to make a phone call, it was important to tell someone where I was, sitting on Freddie's golden throne, using his phone.

! ! In the late summer of 1976 I went to an early Punk gig at a school in North London, The Damed and Eater were on the bill and the NME had sent me along. I saw this cool looking Punk and asked to take his photo, "You had better ask my Manager first" came the reply, a Punk with a manager indeed, it was Mick Jones, already behaving like a Rock Star.

In April of the following year it was decided to put The Clash on the cover of the NME, Tony Parsons was to do the interviews, in true Punk style this was to happen on the Underground, we were to meet them at Baker Street, on the Circle Line. We stood on the platform at midday and sure enough there they were, yelling at us to get on the tube quickly before the doors shut.

Parsons had bought a bunch of large cans of Fosters and they were duly opened, the interview began and a spirited discussion was soon under way, but it was hardly the place to do a cover shoot and after we passed thru the station at Blackfriars I suggested we get off and go somewhere else to do this, also being so noisy I doubted Tony would be able to hear anything when he transcribed the tape from the recorder that was perched on Joe's knee.

We got off at Kings Cross, the Fosters had filled them up and they needed to use the bathroom, just standing there taking a piss Mick and Joe were given abuse from a few old geezers, Punk was anti establishment and the public were anti punk. We adjourned to a nearby Cafe and Tony continued to talk to Mick and Joe, Paul was bored by this point and amused himself by taking photos of in a Photo Booth instead.

I took them to a location just off Oxford Street, it had a number of places to make good group shots, they were under strict instructions from Bernie Rhodes only to pose as a trio, but, I did manage to quickly get off a few frames of individuals, boy, did they look young.

Whilst the group shots were good I had something else in mind for the cover, so off we went to Rehearsal Rehearsals in Camden Town. They needed to ask Bernie if my idea was OK. I wanted to concentrate on their faces, not their clothes, Bernie said no at first, probably because Sebastian Conran was sitting at a sewing machine making trousers. I held my ground and finally Bernie relented and I posed them in a triangular shape in front of a white wall. My first white background photos.

Being a "Group" Bernie insisted the photo was done three different ways, one with each member in the centre, I knew that Paul looked the best but did what was asked, I took a total of fourteen frames. I only gave the NME the version with Paul in the middle, Charles Shaar Murray came up with the cover line, The Clash - Thinking Man's Yobs.

! The interviews went on quite a bit longer, Tony talked to Joe whilst Mick tried on his new clothes and Paul carried on trying to learn how to play bass. I think it was pretty much decided that Topper Headon would be the drummer, but Bernie wanted to keep him out of the press, the first Album only had the three of them on the cover, he wanted to keep it like this for a while longer.

At about eight PM Tony had finished talking to Joe and it was Mick's turn, we went off to his Nan's flat in a Tower Block by the Westway, Mick had been brought up by Stella and his portion of the interview was done in her front room.

Looking back we all seemed so young, we had so much to prove, them with their music, Tony and I with the NME, we all forged a friendship that day, one that I cherish and look back on with great affection.

In 1979 I did them in a Studio, the idea was for them to dress up as their fantasy character, Topper in his Kung Fu outfit, Paul as a member of the Luftwaffe, Mick, ever the poser was dressed like a Hussar. Joe simply put a stocking over his face, picked up a cosh and posed as a Thug. He was not really like that in my mind, but the idea was fantasy so I went along with it.

They had now been to America, as with all bands this had changed things, success was inevitable, they became a big Rock Band, in only two years they had gone from Punks to Stars, the ideals were the same but the audiences were bigger, worldwide fame and hit records was the new norm, it changed Mick, but it never changed Joe, he remained a man of the people, The Man of The People...

! "Ere Chalks, you've got me feeling a little bit Regal sat here posing like this" quickly channeling my inner Holbein, I swiftly replied "Fear not Sire, thou lookest like the greatest scholar in all the land, a beacon of light and wisdom shining thru on this dark December night" "Oh, alright then if you say so"

! That was almost exactly 30 years ago and we were working on the sleeve for Pete's solo record, All the Best Cowboys have Chinese Eyes, but, when he saw the print along with the other ideas for the cover, Lord Townshend was still dismissive of said portrait. "It looks like something you would find on some pretentious authors book jacket" refusing to take the criticism to heart, I quietly replied "Oh well, I guess we will just stick it in a box and wait for YOUR memoirs to come out then, O Gifted One"

Fifteen years later he started work on them, first thing he did was contact all his mates and asked if we remembered anything, it seems his memory was a little fuzzy. Fifteen years after that phone call the weighty tome is finished and about to be published.

So, here is the original print which has languished in a box for three decades. I still think its a damned good portrait of my dear friend and storyteller supreme. Way to go Pete...

! When I received a call to see if I was interested in photographing David Gilmour I could not reply in the affirmative quickly enough. Not only that but it gave me the chance to work with Storm Thorgerson of Hipgnosis fame.

Storm was the one who inspired me to become a photographer, the sleeve for Atom Heart Mother featured a cow, no band photos at all, how cool was that. I fantasized about being the photographer, what a great way to earn a living, I was only 15 but my mind was made up, this is what I wanted to do. The chance to work with Storm and David 12 years later made that dream come true.

! The word came from on high, "Tell Chalkie to get a Water Cooler" but we don't have them in the UK so I told him no. He refused to budge, we got one from America, I asked why? He said I have got this Photo, trust me. We were booked into a white background studio, I could not fathom this water cooler bit, but, whatever he wants I'll do it.

The Water Cooler arrives, we fill it with water, we wait three hours for Storm to show, I ask to see this picture, he hands it to me. It was James Dean, outside a store, leaning on a Water Cooler. He was radiating handsomeness. My heart dropped, David's not used to this studio photo stuff, no way can I turn him into James Dean instantly. And Storm wanted to start with this.

But I was touched by the fact that he thought I could turn his friend into James Dean, that David could become James Dean. David is David, he's very special, but I could not possibly do that without teaching him how to act in front of the camera, not just be himself, and teaching him that would take a few hours.

Storm starts ordering everyone around, barking orders at the crew, they get nervous moving the cooler and knock it over, the glass shatters, the studio gets flooded. I'm relieved and smile at David, he smiles back and opens a guitar case, out comes the Red Strat and he sits in this cheap plastic chair and entertains us for 45 minutes while they mop up the studio.

Starr takes an SX70 Polaroid of him doing this, in my friend Scott Crolla's groovy shirt, then we realize he needs stubble, he's so clean-shaven that he lacks his look, he has none of that slight grubbiness he needs, so I tell Storm and we cancel the whole thing. Just one SX70 had been taken, thousands of pounds had been spent.

We regroup in the Canteen at Abbey Road, figure out the growth time, then it came to the crunch, I had to persuade Storm not to come to the reshoot, he needed to trust us to do our work in private, our little portrait studio was in the garage of a Mews House, it was tiny. David came, Starr did his make up this time and nobody else but Storm's trusty Ambassador, Andrew Ellis was present,

It features the difficult photographic technique of lighting from below, needed to cast a slight shadow up onto his cheek and to generally add a bit of drama, he's such an incredibly nice and handsome person that I felt we needed to make him a little tougher looking. We gave him my battered old leather jacket, put him on a chair and went in close on his face, he happened to move his arm quickly and his hand crossed his face and looked like he was thumbing a lift, Starr managed to catch this frame and ultimately it was used as the cover. She liked people smiling, I liked them moody, so the portrait you see here went on the inner bag and the happy one on the cover, after all David is a pretty happy kind of chap, so it fitted in well.

It was also pretty cool to have his Electric Blue Porsche parked outside our crummy garage for the afternoon.

! One of the things that comes as a bonus when photographing guitarists is that you can ask them to bring a couple of instruments with them, it does two things, it gives them something to hold and covet in front of the camera, it also gives them something to do when backgrounds and lights are being changed. And they do what they do best, they play their guitar. It's a very privileged thing to hear them noodling about whilst they are waiting, and, you get to see some pretty amazing guitars too.

Also worth mentioning is that when he reformed Pink Floyd seven years later with my dear friend Guy Pratt replacing Roger Waters on Bass, they Toured the US after a month of rehearsals in an empty Aircraft Hanger at Toronto Airport.

Sitting in a pair of Directors chairs Storm and I watched the final night of rehearsals with the full Stage Show including Lasers, the band played a two hour set to an audience of less than ten people. To say it was a mind blowing experience would be understating things, the best bit was during the encore when they played Comfortably Numb, with it being the last night they took a chance and opened the Hanger doors just as David got to the guitar solo, the lasers projected out into the night sky creating an incredible light show, then, just as the song was finishing a Jumbo Jet went by and the Floyd's stage set was dwarfed by the size of this massive plane.

The reason for the tiny audience was that in order to get to the gig you had to be driven across the runways at Toronto's Pearson Airport in a special vehicle, it had two huge flags sticking up from the roof in order to make it visible to the Pilots of all the Jets that were taking off and landing, obviously that's a highly restricted access route so it meant very few people other than the Band and Crew could get there...

! There are certain people in the Music Business who are genuine legends, those who help build the records we all love, people who know how to extract the very best performances out of the artists, they labour for months to make the very finest recordings, these people are the Record Producers.

When George Martin phoned up I was truly honored, this was a man I had heard many stories about, my friend Chris Thomas had been his Engineer on the White Album, without George the Beatles may never have reached the heights that they did, he wanted his portrait taken, the prospect filled me with excitement and enthusiasm, especially as he is also an extremely handsome man.

! We arranged to take the photo at Air Studios where he said he would be working, it was a place we had been to many times, we often set mini studios up in the bathroom, or the relaxation area, or if available in the recording studios themselves. We showed up a little early so we could set up the mobile studio but he saw us thru the glass, he came out of the Control Room and told us that he was busy for the next 45 minutes, but, would we like to join him. There were two EMI Security Guards by the door and on the Mixing Desk was a two inch Master Tape, written in pencil on the box were these simple words.

The Beatles - Sgt Pepper

It turned out that he had to approve the first CD release of Sgt Pepper as it was twenty years since its release on LP and he wanted to listen to the master all the way thru just to be sure that it sounded OK, he played the tape, we sat mesmerized behind him. When it was over he rewound the tape a little to hear Day in the Life a second time. This time he pulled off everything except John's vocals, it was an eerie but incredible thing to hear, and brought a tear to our eyes listening to it. Once it was over we listened to all the backwards music at the end of the second side, in Studio Sound and with George sitting there it was like magic, one of the best and most privileged moments of my life.

I'm not sure people realize that George produced a lot of Comedy and Novelty records before he worked with the Beatles, these are just a few...

Rolf Harris - Sun Arise Peter Sellers and Sophia Loren - Goodness Gracious Me The Archers Theme Shirley Bassey - Goldfinger with Jimmy Page on Guitar Bernard Cribbins - Right Said Fred All the Goons recordings Millicent Martin - That Was the Week that Was Flanders and Swann - The London Omnibus

And as if that was not enough he also produced Jeff Beck's groundbreaking album Blow by Blow..

Actually, there is one other story that is worth telling...

In 1978 I got my first commission from Paul McCartney, it was to shoot his Xmas card at Abbey Road, a friend had just given me the Beatles Demos for Decca that were rejected, it was on the aptly named "Deccagone" Label. I figured it might be a laugh to play it during the shoot, I was fearless back then and after two Songs Paul look at me with a quizzical eye, "is this what I think it is?" He asked, I told him it was, " George" he shouted from the Studio Floor, George Martin appeared at the top of the stairs and Paul asked me to give him the Cassette, "Do me a favour and copy this will you" he instructed "and make sure Chalkie gets back his tape, it might be quite valuable"

! There is something about David Byrne that makes you take good pictures, almost like you don't want to bother him with something that's not interesting, I worked with him a number of times, but the 30 minute session we did for an early issue of the Face was the most productive.

It was shot in the basement of the Warner Bros building in Soho. There was a gym down there and quite often I built a little studio in the space, I did the Pretenders, Laurie Anderson, even Aha in that basement.

! We told David the ideas and he cooperated fully, we decided to shoot on black to emphasize his face, after all it's one of his most interesting features, we shot him distorting it, pulling the skin this way and that, ending up with the classic frame of him opening his eye, quite literally in fact.

We also experimented with double exposures, combining profiles with straight on views, now you would do it in photoshop but back then it was all in camera. And also one set of pictures where I used three consecutive frames to shoot his body, to show his height, and to make something other than a simple 3/4 length photo shot the usual way.

It's amazing what you can do in 30 minutes with the right person, David Bowie is someone else that inspires you to try anything, and to trust your judgement and forget any normal poses.

I always remember Brian Eno's observation, That it will be so great when Byrne and Bowie are really old, they can sit together on an island and still look cool. Of that I have no doubt.

! Whilst Terry Hall never appeared to smile, he was certainly not miserable, he just saw no need to smile, if you asked him to he did, albeit in a very minimalist fashion. The same was not true of Paul Weller.

I remember this shoot well, it was a cover story for the Face, he was wearing a bright red vest, a clean white shirt, and his hair was a perfect copy of Stevie Marriott. You could certainly direct Paul, it did not do you much good however. All you got was the look, a stare that questioned his reason for being there, that this was part of the job, that you would never see below the surface.

! Being for the cover it needed to be good, I tried everything to get some kind of look on his face, every angle failed, nothing brought a smile to his face, nothing I said caused any change in him, the photo needed something and I told him so.

Out of his pocket he produced a box of matches, he put one in his mouth and the picture somehow now had a life, he moved it around slightly between frames, as if it were an important prop. His face is exactly the same in all the pictures, the position of the match governs the choice, yet somehow there is something here, a flicker of interest in his eyes, but you have to look really hard to see past the persona he has always projected, that of Paul Weller, leader of the Jam, leader of the Style Council, and now the Godfather of Pop, I'm amazed he has lasted this long.

! I wish I was skilled enough at writing to be able to describe Joe Strummer's voice. Gravelly, throaty, rough, maybe. But also there was an intimacy to it, especially on the telephone. You immediately knew it was Joe, without question the most committed of all the Punks, the man of the people.

I had worked with Joe many times over the years, in fact my first attempt at studio photography was with the Clash, the triumvirate headshot that was their first NME cover back in 1977. I knew him well enough to ask him to do something different.

! The photograph is fairly simple, he sits there in a church chair, one with a little rack on the back to hold a prayer book. He is holding a famous 60's book, None Dare Call It A Conspiracy, written during the Nixon era it was a Left Wing handbook, I had come across it in America and brought it home to give to Joe, I thought it was something he would really enjoy.

At first this just looks like a formal portrait, unusual back then, but I had a reason to do it, there was something I wanted to celebrate and document. It was taken to celebrate Joe's upcoming 30th birthday.

For a punk to have reached the ripe old age of thirty was not something he wanted to celebrate, but it was still quite a shock to think that Joe was that 'old'. Only three years separated us, but at that time it was a huge gap, did it really make a difference?

Not at all, in his mind and heart he was forever young, he was a leader and a teacher, he spoke for a generation and he spoke well. It's such a shame he passed away at the age of 50, he had so much more to say, and nobody put it better than Joe.

! I always thought this photo of Graham 'Suggs' McPherson made him look old, that the bowler hat and cigar belonged to a person from a different era. But Suggs was young back then, in fact at 20 he was the youngest member of Madness. He was the first person I can remember who was born in the sixties not the fifties. And it's not that it put a barrier between us, it simply indicated to me that a new guard was forming.

Madness knew exactly how to get themselves across, ask for a group photo and you got something good every time. They instinctively knew how to pose, how to draw attention to themselves, after all good photos make the paper, average ones get thrown in the bin.

! Looking at this photo 35 years later and it makes total sense, the Bowler Hat is part of his persona, he has become the beloved entertainer, he has become a National Treasure and so have the band. Like Morecome and Wise, they don't grow visibly older, they always seem to have been there, and you make sure you watch them each Christmas.

They played on the roof of Buckingham Palace for the Diamond Jubilee, they were a star turn at the Olympics, they played a concert at BBC Centre to celebrate its closing. In a way they epitomize Britain, they are quintessentially British, nobody would ever want them to be anything else.

! Terry Hall is medically unable to smile, he sees no reason to smile, he simply does not smile. That is what common wisdom will tell you, but, common wisdom is wrong, Terry smiled whenever we asked him to. Not some big goofy grin or a huge show of teeth he smiled from within. He is not smiling in this picture, but only because we did not ask him to.

We always let Terry be Terry, we gave little direction from day one, we just gave a little help here and there. He has huge presence and charisma but its smoldering well below the surface. None of the usual kind of poses worked for him, no action shots, no coy looks at the camera, you get what you see and what you see is Terry.

! The bowling shirt and striped pants work on him where they would look odd on someone else, the pale blue striped top on the sleeve of More Specials, with the spotted cravat and sunglasses, the duffle coat look of the Fun Boy Three all fitted him perfectly. He was not someone you suggested clothes to, he knew how he wanted to look and he came dressed that way.

And yes, he is quiet, shy, reserved, yet not aloof, simply a man of few words. We photographed him on numerous occasions, I doubt the entire conversations would fill two pages of paper. That should not sound odd, sometimes few words are needed, and without those words we always found a good picture, and that is all the job requires. Anything else was superfluous and I think he liked us for that, we simply let him be himself.

Why the bubble, I have no idea, normally a shoot with Terry would consist of a single roll of pictures, this time there were four. The frames without the bubble lack something, the bubble emphasizes the quiet silence surrounding him, 40 frames with bubbles, yet only this one tells the story properly, the fact that there is no story, just Terry.

! If asked to describe Kevin Rowland I would be forced to trot out the same old words everyone else uses. Passionate, intense, dedicated, and committed. I would add that he is also a visionary who is extremely cooperative and trusting. I use the last two words because one time in the studio I asked him to put his hands behind his back, he obliged and so I slipped some silk rope around his wrists and tied them together.

You may wonder why I did that, was I under the influence of Robert Mapplethorpe, was I abusing my power and the willingness of my subject to do anything I asked, maybe I was high on some kind of strange drug. The answer is none of the above.

! I was making a statement about the Music Business, that once you signed up for the job you were under their control. You did what they said or else. Kevin understood this perfectly, he laughed heartily and trusted me when I said the photo would only be used the once, in the Face and never again. I kept my word.

So what you see here is Kevin's second period, gone is the soul boy hoodie and the wooly hat, in it's place is a beret and dungarees, the era of Come on Eileen. The record was a huge hit Worldwide, he was adored in America, but, the single was a one off, a flippant 45. He regretted it for years, maybe I should have used the other photo instead, maybe he would have preferred to be remembered for that. Whatever, this is a nice photo of him, it's all in his face, and it's thru his face that he tells his story.

! I have listened to a lot of Bands in the Studio, Thin Lizzy, Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, Dave Edmunds, Rockpile, Pete Townshend, The Specials, Pete Townhend and even The Beatles when we shot George Martin.

But the most memorable of all has to be listening to Chrissie Hynde sing "A Thin Line Between Love and Hate" at Air Studios with my dear friend, her Producer Chris Thomas.

Hearing a final Mix in the Studio is a pretty fucking magical experience at the best of times, but, hearing Chrissie sing this old Persuaders song, was something else entirely, it totally sends shivers down your spine, It is one of those times when you hear something for the first time and realize immediately that it's an absolute Classic....

! The first time I photographed Johnny Lydon he turned up with Keith Levine, this was Public Image time, he was complaining loudly and was uninterested in having his photograph taken, I struggled to get anything worthwhile from him, in fact I gave up after seven frames of the twelve frame roll, I unplugged the Strobes, but, just as he was about to get off the stool he turned profile and I quickly grabbed this frame using only the modeling bulbs as lighting. I then suggested we call it quits, I saw no point in wasting each others time.

! Looking back in retrospect this profile is actually really good, it sums up the anger and frustration burning inside him, it also shows his refusal to compromise and his hatred of the "Business of Music" which was how he described his relationship with his record company.

But, in the edit I dismissed it, I went instead for a three quarter body shot, then, feeling the image was a little lame due to his lack of cooperation I burned in a halo above his head. I thought I would get the last laugh, I was wrong...

Six years later the chance to work with him again came up, this time for the cover of an American magazine, I phoned him up and asked him if he was going to pay attention, he said he would so I set up the shoot.

He came into the studio and immediately started whining, complaining loudly about the halo, the moaning went on and on, after ten minutes of listening to his rant I asked if he had agreed to the session simply to get the opportunity to give me a hard time about the bloody halo. No, he said, I'm actually looking forward to this.

His temperament changed in a split second, he went from uncooperative to helpful, I was shocked by his ability to take direction, so I suggested we try working on a 4x5 camera instead, it gives an unreal level of detail, I thought it would be perfect for him. This was a huge beast compared to a Hasselblad, you can only take one photo at a time and the sitter must remain perfectly still otherwise he will quickly go out of focus. But it's how photography started, you took a single photograph, you did not just hit the button and let the motor drive take over.

We were doing a close up portrait, and after we got four sheets of film done he started playing with his hair and then started muttering to himself. I worried that I had lost him so I asked what was up.

It turned out that he had just come back from abroad, at the Airport he set of the alarm on the metal detector in the security area, he duly removed his belt, rings and other jewelry, the alarm still went off, he removed his shoes and jacket, same thing happened, he continued to strip until he was standing in his underwear but the machine still got triggered and the alarm bell sounded yet again, he was all set for a cavity search when he realized what was happening, it was the metal twizzlers in his hair that were causing all the trouble, he showed the Security men and they agreed to let him board the plane.

Being a pop star sure is fun...

! Julian Cope, now there is one of music's more interesting people, a true treasure, and a passionate one at that.

As was my policy, I asked to meet Julian before shooting him for the Face, I went down to Brighton and saw the Teardrop Explodes perform at the Dome. Julian was an affable chap, eager to do anything required or requested of him.

I explained that the Face thought it might be cool to photograph him at the Portobello Hotel, that the rooms were really nice, and that one had a really interesting shower.

! When we met up on the Sunday afternoon he immediately wanted to get under the shower, I quickly agreed but was unaware that the spray from the shower would cause an arc with the strobe, it meant getting a tiny electric shock every time I hit the button, the shock came via my lips.

Having showered, Julian wrapped himself in towels, including ones around his head, he then lay on the bed, relaxing like a true star. The wrapped towel on his head made him look a little like a Nun, a wacky one, and a close up of this ended up on the cover. I felt we needed more photos. I suggested another shoot at the Studio the following Thursday, he agreed and a time was set.

He arrived with his girlfriend in tow, she was American, a little bit of a handful, but interesting nonetheless, her name was Love, Courtney Love...

Julian had on this great sheepskin pilots jacket, and jodhpur boots up to his knees, with his blonde hair he reminded me of Brian Jones, I mentioned this.

He then started to pose in a manner most befitting to Mr Jones, I channeled my inner David Bailey and moved the camera close, chopping off the top of his head a little. It was a good trick, if you cropped like this the magazine had no choice but to use the crop you had done. I liked this photo we were working on.

He started doing things with his hands, I noticed his eyes were glazed, I thought nothing of it.

Then he put his hands together like the right hand was a gun, I told him to put the left one vertical, we tried a couple of frames and then got the pose exactly right. It was a great picture, we tried a couple more ideas and then called it a day, I had the image we needed.

As he was leaving I mentioned to Julian how cool that afternoon in the studio was, that he seemed to assume Brian Jones personality in the poses, "Yea, I did, it was pretty easy actually, I had just dropped a Tab of Acid, I was Tripping".

! This photo was part of the sessions that were done for Trust, EC's fifth album, one that came out during a time of grim austerity, Thatcher's Britain, doom and gloom, so for the sleeve we eventually went with the iconographic image of him looking over his glasses, a happy image taken in colour, a film still from Barney Bubbles black and white video.

Despite what people thought, he was not some moody and aloof genius, he is a jovial, yet intense subject. One who always had fun in photo shoots, someone who would bring out a big yellow coat, or a beret, or a baby blue sweater with matching glasses, stuff that goes completely against character, that defies you to classify him in any one way. Photos that I would often keep hidden away from his manager.

! Looking back he always did this thing with his glasses, looking over them, arching his eyebrow, pulling them down in his nose, it was there on the very first pictures I took in early 1978, it was still there in the last ones I took 20 years later in 1998. It's not that the other pictures don't work, it's just that he is so expressive with his songs that you need something like that on his face, something to remind you that his is not just a simple look, that his brain never stops working, that he is always ahead of the game and that as a photographer you are always struggling to catch up.

Oh, and his love of hats, you won't see him now without one, but he always loved wearing them, often they were pretty wacky, this one is somber and was the first time he was photographed in one, after this came the beret, the Laurence Olivier look as Jake dismissingly referred to it.

! I think this photograph of Ian Dury is one of my very finest, everything about it speaks volumes to me. The flat cap. The adorable look in his eyes and on his face, the way his arm and hand wraps around his head and face. And he is shirtless.

Ian was at the peak of his game, hit after hit, the cheeky little chappie was everyone's favorite mischief maker. He was also a Pop Star, no questions asked, he was a regular on Top of the Pops and his photo was on magazine covers.

This was the 80's, the New Romantic era was starting, clothes and haircuts were more important to these bands than the ability to play their instruments. They were teen fodder, pin up material, and I wanted to prove that Ian was no different to anyone else.

! He had Polio and walked with a stick, his little body was hunched over and his arms and hands were different sizes. But so what, should that stop him taking his shirt off and flashing his little chest at the camera, I thought not.

He did just what I asked, he slipped off his shirt and posed like a true teen idol. But the photographs were lacking in something, when he just stood there posing it looked wrong, he looked vulnerable, I was concerned that I had done the wrong thing. Ian immediately came to the rescue distorting himself in all manner of ways, he produced some extraordinary images culminating in the shot you see here.

The other thing I never realized was that when the portrait was taken he was 40, a 40 year old Punk, there was only one more of those, and sadly he also left us way too early. That was Alex Harvey, another unique person, another great showman, another person who just generated laughter and enjoyment wherever he went. God Bless Them, they were both uniquely talented, if only they had lived longer, just imagine how cool they both would be today.

I think it is a fine testament to a very special person. If Punk had produced a National Treasure the for sure it was Ian Dury.

! If I had to create a word to describe Robert Plant then I think it would be peacockian.

Whilst I had photographed him live many times over the years, I did not actually meet him until I did his Record Sleeve on a video he was making in Morocco. He strutted into the restaurant of the Hotel in Marakesh looking every inch the Rock Star, his mane flowing, his shirt open to the waist, wearing cowboy boots and jeans he was all you would expect of the former Led Zeppelin front man.

! Two days later we ended up sitting on this mountaintop together, we were waiting for a man in a hang glider to fly over with a zap camera to film from the sky, but as with all Rock Stars of this stature I resisted the urge to tell them how as a teenager I listened to their records imagining what it would be like to hang out with them one day, or ask dumb fan like questions like Can you still sing the Immigrant Song at your age? Instead I would always choose some innocent topic, something off the beaten track.

So I asked him about the Plaster Casters from Chicago, two 60's groupies that used to make plaster casts of Rock Star's erections. After all it's not often you meet one of their "models" especially one sitting on top of the Atlas Mountains with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

The biggest thing, he said, was maintaining the erection whilst the plaster dried. I must admit I had never given that much thought, but now it seemed obvious. Robert then continued to describe the experience in great detail, but being that it's the stuff of legend I don't think I should reveal all that here. Besides we spotted the hang glider and I quickly moved down the mountain and out of the way.

The following day we moved to Wazazat, the area of Morocco where Laurence of Arabia was filmed, the only place in the world where you could rent a sand dune by the day. This is a magical place, it has a sign saying that Timbuktu is 27 days by camel, and it is the home of the blue people, Bedouin nomads who dress in clothes dyed from azure giving them a rich dark blue colour.

Off in the distance we spotted a group of them walking in the desert, they were a long way off in the morning but by mid afternoon they were reasonably close. At five pm they appeared at the edge of the dune, there were six women and one man.

Po, Aubrey Powell of Hipgnosis fame, was the director of this video and he went over to talk to the group, he was keen to have these women in the video, it would add an authentic feel, he negotiated a price and they danced behind Robert during one part of the song.

After filming was done the women split up and each approached one of the film crew, they all asked the same question, where do we go together now? We did not quite know how to answer this, we were on a sand dune and there was nowhere to go, we were all working anyway, what did they mean?

Eventually the male Bedouin explained things to Po, it turned out these women were his mobile Brothel, they had never been paid before for just dancing in front of men. They did not understand the concept of being paid and not having to have sex.

You can't make this kind of stuff up, the singer from Led Zeppelin, on a sand dune, meeting up with a mobile brothel, but I swear this story is true, it's all in a days work when work is Rock and Roll.

! I really like this photo, but, can you get a pair of scissors and cut us out?"

You mean silhouette you onto a white background?

"Kind of, but can you do it badly?"

"So it looks cheesy, then just stick it on a piece of card"

Specials Album Sleeve meeting with Jerry Dammers 1979

! Elvis Costello had been to see the Specials at the Lyceum, an early gig and he enthused to me about their music, he went on to produce their Debut Album and one day rang me and suggested I ask their Manager, Rick Rigers, to let me shoot their album cover, in order to check them out I went to Top of the Pops the day they first played Gangsters, they were a real group, seven different souls, seven different men.

I liked what I saw but chose not to meet any of the band, better to observe them from a distance, they seemed different, like each one was unique and then when they were all together it added up to the most interesting combination of people I had ever seen, I say that because there were so many of them, usually in bands of this size there were leaders and followers, these guys were not like that, there could have been a number of leaders, but none of them was what I would usually refer to as a follower.

! When we finally went to this tiny studio in Hammersmith to meet Jerry and the Band I had an understanding of what they were like, a group yes, but a group made up of individuals, I felt they needed to somehow be photographed like that. It was not going to be easy, seven is a lot of people to pose and control, but I felt these guys would take direction well, luckily I was right.

We agreed to meet again in Coventry the following weekend, at the Two Tone HQ, it was the first floor of Jerry's house, it had the feeling of a kind of club, and these guys were the founding members. Jerry showed me his favourite sleeves, the ones he wanted to influence the shoot, The Who's My Generation was one of these.

Jerry had picked out an area he wanted to use for the shoot, a disused canal basin, dilapidated boats, decaying buildings, lots of garbage everywhere, it pretty much summed up Coventry.

We started on a bunch of corrugated iron, with a nondescript block of flats in the background, sort of an anti glamorous shot, somewhere you would not want to live, a place you would want to leave if you had the chance.

As I had hoped they were very easy to work with, all payed attention to the instructions, all of them knew exactly how to stand and project themselves, that was unusual, normally you would have to struggle with a couple of members, not with this bunch.

They were so powerful when posing together that I could have stopped after six frames, they were that good, but I continued until the twelve frames on the roll were used up. This photo could easily work as the sleeve, strong, real, gritty and grim were words that came to mind. Ultimately that shot never even got printed, let alone used for the Sleeve, something way better came next.

There was an old abandoned building with access to the first floor, I was able to get up there and look down on the band, taking My Generation as the inspiration I started to move the band into position, it was basically a triangle, the strongest shape there is, it suited them very well.

Once again each frame was spot on, Jerry wanted two versions, one had him holding a suitcase, again the idea of getting out of Coventry was implied. I did both versions in ten frames, just two frames remained on the roll.

Starr was on the ground and told everyone to stay exactly where they were, she showed me an SX70 Polaroid, it was taken from the side, it was a killer view. I moved into a position where all the band were equally visible, I took two frames, there was no need for more, this was possibly the best group shot I had ever taken.

! We did more pictures, some on the roof of the Odeon Cinema, others on an abandoned boat in the basin, that one ended up on the back of the second album.

Back in London I took the contacts to the Studio, there was no color, we did not want to give the record company any leeway, we wanted it in black and white. Elvis also looked at the pictures, he went straight for the two frames we ended up using, the band agreed that they were the best choices. Then Jerry asked if we could cut the band out of the shot from above, so they would be on white, I suggested we redo it in a studio if he wanted that look, no, not at all said Jerry, I want you to cut out the print, with scissors, I want it cut out badly, I want it to look cheesy.

We did exactly that, mocked up a sleeve with some checkered bicycle tape and just put the word Specials in a big typeface that Starr had found on Lettraset, the side picture became the back cover, only song titles and credits were added. In America they reversed the sleeve, putting the side view on the front.

Thirty years later it still holds up, especially the back cover, it seemed to define them, it did not show the dynamic energy that came when the performed, it just showed all that energy bottled up inside them.

! I had known Chrissie since her days on the NME and so when the time came for The Pretenders to release their first LP she asked me to take the pictures. Having your photograph taken is one of the unfortunate chores that comes with being in a Band, Musicians were concerned with music, not image, but The Pretenders needed an image for their sleeve, not just a photograph. Also it was decided to enforce that image by shooting on a white background so that the Band was all you saw, no sets or arty photography.

! That may sound fairly simple, it certainly looks like that when you see the sleeve, just four people on white, that's easy, right? No, it's far from easy as this was in the days before retouching, before Photoshop allowed us to take a head from here, a body from there, take out some excess flesh, soften the life lines on the face, change the color of a jacket and pretty much anything you may want. All is well and good until the Band shows up on TV and then the myth is blown.

The Album sleeve was done in an afternoon, three changes of clothing were tried, about a dozen rolls of film were taken, but, in the end only one Photo lent itself to being the front cover. You need to get all four personalities to shine thru, get four people to look good simultaneously, get four people to project themselves and only then do you have something good enough to pass the test of time and still be an iconic sleeve decades later.

This photo is not from the first Album Sleeve Shoot. It's taken about a year or so later. The Band had been to America, that changes you for ever, you grow up fast, learn a lot about life and when you come home things are different. All Bands experience this, just look at The Clash for example.

So this image shows a slightly more mature version of the Pretenders, it took a bit of coaxing but all the personalities come thru and the photo is a fine record of the Band. Getting four people to concentrate long enough, to stop talking to each other, to stay in the same spot is all tricky at the best of times, to do that in the unnatural environment of a Photo Studio increases the level of difficulty. I'm not talking about Pop Bands where the clothing and haircuts make life easy, or where the group just loves showing off in front of a camera. I'm referring to four Musicians, really good ones too. If I had a dollar for every time I was told that they felt like showroom dummies I would be rich, but, this kind of photo is a necessecary evil, part of the process required to become a well known Band. I hope this image serves that purpose and brings back memories of these great people, it's so sad that Pete and Jimmy are no longer with us, but, this photo is not a bad reminder of them.

!