It took me years to write, will you take a look?

I salute the Green Man Festival’s literature tent. I can’t recall if there was such a marquee on either of my previous visits to this event, possibly because I was spending most of my time shivering and slopping through mud while bearing a dark demeanour of despair and disillusionment. This time I patronised the tent with energy. The hour and a half spent listening to the remarkable Joe Boyd speak of his varied 1960s encounters with the Dylans, Drakes and Thompsons. The (folk-) rock Zelig talked with the warmth and passion of a fan and it was, well, chilling to reflect that standing before us was the fellow who sat alone with a nervous Nicholas “Nick” Drake and listened to the troubled troubadour play his early songs. The event was extra special because the wonderful Robin Hitchcock interspersed the narrative by performing key songs from Boyd’s career as a producer and record company man. It was enchanting and worth the admission fee alone. The hour with Jah Wobble was fabulous too. The former PIL bassist was honest and humorous and pored over a intriguing life (punk, violence, drug addiction and tube train driving) with an effervescent East End, er, effervescence. I wanted to buy his book but it sold out. Christmas maybe. Also caught in this tent were Keith Allen (hugely entertaining), Will Hodgkinson (very earnest) and David Thomas of Pere Ubu (demonic).

Here are some captions to the above pictures. They look small but a click works wonders. They then grow. :

1. Left to right - Robin Hitchcock, Joe Boyd, a pillar

2. Jah Wobble talking about stuff

I'm outta here. London's swanky streets beckon. The elegant D waits for me there. We join the capital's hepcats tonight for a Wilco concert party. I can't wait to see this combo again. I might have my hair cut first.