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December 30In Bangkok with my agent Simon. Had dinner at Mezzaluna, above Sirrocco on the 64th floor of the State Tower. Looks over the whole Bangkok skyline. The first time I came here it was empty, now it's the in place to go. I enjoy Asia, it has a glow, the people are friendly and helpful and it certainly beats being in the cold. Best part of the evening was ordering a bottle of red wine. As we finished our meal I grabbed our bottle and we finished it off in the most civilised manner. Unfortunately it was the bottle from the next table - at $1,500 a bottle. It was very nice and we didn't pay. I like Asia a lot... December 28Flew East on Emirates, fantastic service, unlike the American airlines. As I arrived at check-in an OLDER man was in front of me taking ages to see if he had to pay $17 for the free limo when he arrived in Melbourne. I waited a good twenty minutes while he went on about it. The ground staff were polite but looking deflated listening to him. 'Excuse me, may I check in?' I ask. 'NO,' he growls, 'I haven't finished'. Heathrow was quiet, the Emirates lounge was empty. Got to my seat to find I'm sitting next to my older man from check in. I am in the aisle he's at the window. I ask if he'd mind swapping. 'NO,' I get back. I glare back at him with a look of how I know he's a convict from the southern hemisphere... I spend half the flight looking out at the winter sky over the likes of Iran, wishing I could be taking photos. He kept going to the toilet, in between ordering whiskey, port, wine and beer, and singing to himself. I was even tempted to ask if he was related to Paul Brannigan. After about the tenth toilet run - each time he looking more frail, tottering over me, pressing onto my head rest and making me get up - I suggested swapping seats. 'NO!' Emirates does have one great thing about flying with them - all the air hostesses are stunning. I had a Lucy Liu lookalike called Anna, from Wellington. I even considered telling her it was true love... Another nice feature was the ceiling of the aircraft that lit up like the night sky as if you were looking at stars. I think I ate more than on Christmas day, amazing what you eat for no reason - felt huge. I am going to turn into superman for New Year. Read the Christmas issue of The Word, only because Peter Makowski had left it at my home. It is such a pretentious load of shit, with the writers looking down their collective noses at you. I will excuse Andrew Collins from this as he's a nice bloke and I even saw him at my local Italian over Christmas. Ian Astbury is in the issue, says he's a film whore and raves about Viggo Mortenson in Eastern Promises. I saw this on dvd and it's awful, with a rubbish ending. Astbury names drops the director, Jodorowsky - anything to sound intelligent. He just sounds pompous. I leave the flight ogling Anna. Ah, yes, the friendly skies... December 27Oh the joys of Christmas email - here's one from a higher form of intelligence.
And here's a nice one from Steve Gorman.
Off to the East tomorrow... December 24Spent the early hours of this morning in Tesco buying food for tomorrow that you don't really need or wouldn't normally eat. Hundreds of people were queuing to get in, walking around like zombies in a George A Romero film, aimlessly spending. I watched four people arguing then fighting over brussel sprouts. How stupid, fighting over a vegetable. I got home at 2.30 this morning feeling like a vegetable myself, then couldn't sleep. Christmas - yuk... Here are some recent travel shots, over the Atlantic and Iceland. 
 December 23Met William Nash for a Christmas Sunday lunch at Bibendum. A civilised affair of oysters, octopus and rare roast beef. William declared he'd had enough of me reading rock books and gave me a book for Christmas, The Last Playboy, a biography of Porfirio Rubirosa, who when being asked if he worked replied "WORK?". He was scandalized at being asked what he did. "It's impossible for me to work. I just don't have the time". William and I decided (looking at a cold, foggy London) that we both need the sun and Bangkok - to see in the New Year. I even spoke to my agent, Simon, who's been trying to get me to go to darkest North Africa. He might now come although he became annoying trying to sell me on the joys of Accra... I was so inspired I looked around the Conran Store and bought a globe of the world that lights up like a desk lamp, or something you'd have in a child's bedroom. I got it home, plugged it in and thought 'what have I bought that for?' Sunday night and I'm on my own. Peter Makowski was coming but says he has a date at Asda. So I force myself to go for a run. Turn my ipod on to random and the first song is Rush, A Passage To Bangkok. It's a sign - I'll be married on New Years Eve... I looked up at a bright moon this evening, not full. It stood out, glowing through the night sky. Tried to shoot it, but it was a fairly feeble attempt. December 21I watched a sobering film on dvd called No End In Sight, Iraq's Descent Into Chaos. It explains the mess of Iraq and how Bush's policies created the chaos. Go and buy it - a well thought out, great film. Got this today from Jason
Whoever could Jason mean....?
More pictures from the Shepperton rehearsal sessions. 
 December 20Went up to London. It's madness with the Christmas shopping, and at Victoria all the trains are late because someone crashed their car into the bridge at Ewell station. As I was waiting the same junkie as yesterday came over and blankly asked for £5 again. China has the right idea, round them up and shoot them. Mass executions at Victoria - a nice thought for Christmas... Some Led Zeppelin from rehearsals at Shepperton Studios.
December 19My phone rings at 4.30am, it's Barry Drinkwater doing his best to outdo Steve Strange. 'Aaaaaargh, what are you doing, I'm on it!' I hang up. I ring Barry at 9am. 'Ugggggh, I'm ill, the wife's not talking - she locked me out.' Barry slept with the dogs in his garage, it must remind him of his homeland of Manchester. I decide to go to London. As I sit on the train at midday a drunk gets on stinking of Special Brew and cider. He sits opposite me and tries to talk - reminds me of Barry, even has the same artistic Mancunian-style tattoo. I get up and move to the next carriage. He tries to follow me but falls over. I think he'd been with Barry last night... Get to Bond Street and it's mobbed - must be early sales, there are hundreds of people. Then I notice photographers all chasing Posh Spice from shop to shop with the crowds following like morons to gawp. There must be twenty photographers from Getty running up and down the street. I give up the idea of wandering and head home. At Victoria Station I'm buying a coffee when right in my face steps this pallid, whitefaced thing with pinned eyes. 'Got £5?' 'No. I haven't - fuck off.' I mean, not 5 pence or 50 pence or even a pound - £5... I hate junkies. I need to get away - Christmas is coming. December 16Got up early, and it was as if last night's party in the hills was a dream. It was a deluxe version of Santa's grotto except it was real. With grownups expecting Santa and his helpers - remember we are in LA. People are bonkers... Packed early then went out and bought two copies of the Creem book, a reprint of the '70s magazine. It has a feature on Led Zeppelin from '77 which sums the period up well. I remember reading it at the time. Ian Hunter's Diary Of A Rock And Roll Star (his account of Mott's '72 tour of America) is also in it, plus a photo spread of The Who from the '71 tour. Beautiful day, sunny, warm, a perfect Sunday. Toyed with the idea of staying then thought I'd better get home and I'm on my own. I was looking forward to shooting the sky on the way home. Got to LAX early, a nice easy journey. Sat in the plane with the seat next to me empty - perfect. My departure time is 4.50pm. At 6.50 we are still at the gate. The pilot then says we have pressure problems and it's getting it fixed at 8pm. Then he tells us it can't be fixed and they are finding another aircraft. People start losing it at the crew, as if it's their fault. I just start thinking of getting a midnight flight to Washington then the day flight to London. Surprisingly they find another aircraft. We take off at 10.30 (6.30am in London). It is one of the most bumpy flights I've been on, being thrown around the sky. It doesn't bother me too much as we're at 33,000 feet, except it goes on for hours. Drug myself and sleep at least eight hours, wake up feeling horrible. I never felt like this when I was young. Then again when I was young I'd be so out of it I'd not remember the flight and I'd be with Peter Makowski or Mick Wall "bloody going for it" as Rod Smallwood would say. I can't imagine doing that now. Hmmmm, being young was fun. Or was it...? Use my usual cure for drugginess and drink two pints of coffee, start to feel better. Circled over London for 30 minutes then waited nearly an hour for my bags - just in time to drive home in rush hour. The joys of travel... The Mars Volta in Los Angeles from a couple of weeks ago. I did a shoot in the studio which I'll put up in the new year. 
 See more of The Mars Volta ... Some more Led Zeppelin from the 02 soundcheck and show. December 15Seeing Steve Strange falling down singing Metal On Metal is a sign - looking forward to today... My Anvil shoot went okay, they were a bit stiff. Got there in the end. Shot them on 35mm as I would have in 1982, or 1882 - it feels like 1882. Sasha tells me it was May 1982. So, no large format, no polaroids, I had to think like I did then and still shoot digital. It was hard reverting back, a different mindset. I'm not convinced I did a good job. Sasha helped, he had a vision of what he wanted and cajoled well. I made Lips take off everything apart from his crocs (stupid shoes). He looked just like in 1981-82 - in the nude. I had a real problem getting the white background not to flare and bounce back. It didn't look right to me digitally so I shot film. I hope I got it right in the end. We'll see... Los Angeles is strange at this time of year, hot like summer in the sun and freezing at night. Also odd is seeing Christmas stuff everywhere - ho, ho, ho, Santa and all that crap. Sasha invited me to a Christmas party in the Hollywood hills. It was at the home of a lady called Katie, who played Peg Bundy in Married With Children. The house was something out of It's A Wonderful Life, it didn't seem real. Quite beautiful, I felt like I was on a giant film set overlooking the valley, all lit up for Christmas. It was as if I'd arrived somewhere on a magic carpet. The food was Christmas dinner - you just needed Santa to arrive on a sleigh. It was surreal. Sasha kept introducing me to people as the greatest rock photographer - from Led Zeppelin to Anvil in a couple of days. It's true - from the sublime to the ridiculous... Rob Reiner Anvil's drummer) told me in all seriousness that he hasn't had a drink since he was sixteen, he just had a problem with cocaine for twenty-one years. Rob said this as if it was an everyday occurrence. I suppose it was for him. Steven Kudlow (Lips) also told me how he met my father on a tube train in 1982. My dad asked if he was in a rock band then told Lips I was a photographer. I'd just been in Toronto with them. I had never heard this before... A strange night. My hotel felt normal after my night out, like I'd been in a fairy tale fable. December 14Hung out with Steven Tyler for a while last night. Gave him the Classic Rock magazine cover which he moaned about 'I'm smiling too much,' then I took great pleasure in telling him how good Led Zeppelin were - faultless... I even told him about John Bionelli being on second name terms with Jimmy Page. As John I and were standing in the corridor of the 02 Jimmy sees John, shakes his hand, and says 'Bionelli...' John emailed me 'Hey I'm on second name terms with a member of Led Zeppelin...' Sasha Gervasi invited me to a screening of his movie about Anvil titled (this may change) The Anvil Story. It was at the CAA agent's offices. Rather posh, minimalist white with rubbish art on the walls - reminded me of Nobu in London. Lips and Rob Reiner were both there, I haven't seen them in nearly twenty years. The film is amazing, you end up loving Anvil. Steven (Lips) gave a heartfelt speech at the end of the movie. I took Boh Runga along. She had never heard of Anvil - she thought Lips was the most genuine and open person she'd ever met. As we arrived back at my hotel, I saw a figure trying to stagger in. It's Steve Strange giving Paul Brannigan a run for his money. I ask Steve if he remembers Anvil. Steve looks up and in the entrance to the hotel starts shouting 'Metal On Metal is what I crave!' while playing air guitar. Paul Brannigan would have been proud.
Woke up at 3am wide awake, finally got up at 5.30am. Checked my emails - Atsuko from Japan sent me this of the woman of my dreams (okay, one of the many women of my dreams), the very lovely Koyuki... |
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