Thursday 9th
Had a very strange moment of sheer panic this morning. I sat frozen in front of the computer screens. I was suddenly struck by the sheer amount of work that I would have to cram in the next 2 weeks, culminating in a live show in Venice. I've taken too much on and was hit with the kind of bowel churning fear normally reserved for first night stage fright or major surgical procedures. This resulted in a number of phone calls and e-mails, attempting to cancel some of it.
In the end I didn't cancel anything.
Then the agency called with another Advert!
In the evening Chris Porter and is wife came over. We then took a cab to the newly refurbished Wembley Arena. Very nice it looked to. They appear to have turned it all around. The main entrance is no longer on the main road and the stage is at the other end of the venue. The last time I was here was to see Peter Gabriel back in the summer of 2003.
Tonight we are the guests of Sir Cliff! He looks remarkably fit for a man nearing his 70's and his singing was pretty damn accurate too. Not my kind of thing, obviously, but it would be churlish to criticise. Met a number of people back stage that I haven't seen in an age. Including Roger Searl the Imperious tour manager during my tenure in Level 42. An amazing, calm and brilliant professional. A dead good bloke to boot.
Also in attendance was a girl I last saw on the set of dubious British sitcom 'Birds Of A feather' It was her first job and I had managed to convinced the producer to employ me as an actor, even though I was the show's composer. I had been providing the music for a couple of series and fancied treading the boards again as I had indeed done so as a professional when I first left school. In the end I had just the one line at the end of a longish scene in a tapas bar. I screwed it up in front of a sizable studio audience. Rather too loudly I angrily exclaimed
'for fxxxx sake, i've only got one fxxxing line and I've fxxxxx it up'.
This was greeted with much hilarity by cast and crew alike.
I was later approached by the BBC and asked if they could use this clip for 'Aunties Bloomers' their outakes program. Consequently, had I been a consummate professional, I would have merely earned the basic union minimum. However as i was shit, I earned, and continue to earn, considerably more.
There's a lesson in there somewhere.
Had a very strange moment of sheer panic this morning. I sat frozen in front of the computer screens. I was suddenly struck by the sheer amount of work that I would have to cram in the next 2 weeks, culminating in a live show in Venice. I've taken too much on and was hit with the kind of bowel churning fear normally reserved for first night stage fright or major surgical procedures. This resulted in a number of phone calls and e-mails, attempting to cancel some of it.
In the end I didn't cancel anything.
Then the agency called with another Advert!
In the evening Chris Porter and is wife came over. We then took a cab to the newly refurbished Wembley Arena. Very nice it looked to. They appear to have turned it all around. The main entrance is no longer on the main road and the stage is at the other end of the venue. The last time I was here was to see Peter Gabriel back in the summer of 2003.
Tonight we are the guests of Sir Cliff! He looks remarkably fit for a man nearing his 70's and his singing was pretty damn accurate too. Not my kind of thing, obviously, but it would be churlish to criticise. Met a number of people back stage that I haven't seen in an age. Including Roger Searl the Imperious tour manager during my tenure in Level 42. An amazing, calm and brilliant professional. A dead good bloke to boot.
Also in attendance was a girl I last saw on the set of dubious British sitcom 'Birds Of A feather' It was her first job and I had managed to convinced the producer to employ me as an actor, even though I was the show's composer. I had been providing the music for a couple of series and fancied treading the boards again as I had indeed done so as a professional when I first left school. In the end I had just the one line at the end of a longish scene in a tapas bar. I screwed it up in front of a sizable studio audience. Rather too loudly I angrily exclaimed
'for fxxxx sake, i've only got one fxxxing line and I've fxxxxx it up'.
This was greeted with much hilarity by cast and crew alike.
I was later approached by the BBC and asked if they could use this clip for 'Aunties Bloomers' their outakes program. Consequently, had I been a consummate professional, I would have merely earned the basic union minimum. However as i was shit, I earned, and continue to earn, considerably more.
There's a lesson in there somewhere.
posted by Jakko's blog at 9:22 AM
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