November 27

Brian Wheat called me as he was cooking prime rib and goat for his Thanksgiving dinner. I knew he liked meat, but goat? 'Jeff Keith brought it over as a present, so I told Jeff I'd given it to a kids petting school, he was over the moon. The goat stank so much I took it out to my garage, strung it up, shot it in the head and cooked it. I'll keep you the fur, you can think of Jeff every time you look at it. That goat stank but I sorted it out and I know you'd appreciate the end result.' Brian then confided that Tommy Skeoch was in love with Dave THE SNAKE Sabo. Tommy would ogle THE SNAKE at every show with lust in his loins.

There you go, a heart warming Thanksgiving story - just as Brian's tucking into Jeff's goat...

I went back to Brian Wheat, 'Aren't you worried about Jeff reading what you've done?' 'No, he can't read or write and only crazies go on message boards.'

I was given a copy of Uriah Heep's Wake The Sleeper, the new cd that is a return to form. I thought I'd be fair and play it all the way through - it was worse than being drilled at the dentist, except it went on and on. I phoned up Pete Makowski and played it down the phone. Pete thought it sounded better than on a stereo, 'They are a poor, fat, Jewish imitation of Deep Purple, they should stick to praying at the synagogue instead of writing songs about gypsies, demons and wizards.' Well, Pete has a point. Bernie Shaw is no David Byron - where's the satin suit, platforms and moustache? Where are the hits like The Wizard, Stealin and Look At Yourself? Only a Crystal Palace football fan and Joe Elliott could like this, watching their team play while dreaming of Demons And Wizards, or Pete's favourite, Proud Words On A Dusty Shelf. Geoff Barton loves this record which just about says it all...

Been listening to Saxon, especially Heavy Metal Thunder, which Metallica now use as an into tape. I'm serious, I'm rocking out to them as I write this - I Can See The Light Shining...

November 25

Flew home last night through huge black clouds which seemed to go on for miles. I was seated next to the wing and it was no fun watching the wing move up and down as the plane was thrown all over the sky from Reno to Denver (I was looking at the route map). It unnerved me. I even considered promising to do good deeds and be good if God would save me. Got a couple of photos of black nothing with a slight bit of light.

Home midday and it's cold but sunny. Read the Rolling Stone Magazine grovelling GNR review. Mick Wall is right, all the big magazines think if they are nice Axl will be nice to them - shows you how vacuous they are.

November 24

Woke up to a warm sunny morning after managing to sleep for the first time. My head hurt - it was still ringing after Rock'n'roll John Bionelli spent the whole night at dinner talking about Kiss - Kiss this and Kiss that and how Paul Stanley is a good man (which is quite true). John can't talk Kiss around Aerosmith as they get jealous...

Got this from Peter Makowski, the man with the knowledge.

Midnight Gayboy

Did you know that Bob Dylan wote Lay Lady Lay for the Midnight Cowboy soundtrack but they turned it down in favour of Everybody's Talkin'? It was then offered to Deep Purple,who recorded a version but it was rejected by the record company.

November 23

Travelled back with Metallica from Little Rock to New Orleans, got into my hotel at 3am and had to check out at 5.30am. I felt quite good all things considered. My 7am flight went technical which means in English that the aircraft is broken,so we waited and waited until we got put on a flight to Los Angeles via Dallas. Nice middle-seat stuffed between two hugely overweight Americans eating MacDonalds - it stank. People should be banned from eating shit on planes, dis-fucking-gusting. At least eat some KFC, "All Friendly". An hour into this seven hour journey I am now unhappy and overtired. Travelling on this trip has not been a joy.

Spoke to Rock'n'roll John Bionelli who is in Los Angeles without his slave Donnie Shiteman for some boring music awards with Steven and Joe from Aerosmith. John wouldn't tell me who they were presenting, like it was some state secret.

I did get a photo in Little Rock of Stevenstein Wiig and Foster (The Eater) trying the new Metallica catering and when I left this morning the sky was looking like doomsday I did a quick shot through the airport window.

Finally get in around 2pm. Walking to my room Chad Kroeger from Nickelback walks by then stops me and reminds me I owe him a photo I'd taken in Tokyo a few years ago. A lot of people hate Nickelback but I've only met him a couple of times and he's always okay. Kazuyo comes over laughing, 'Rock'n'roll is in the lobby walking in circles freaking out 'cos he forgot to do the set list, and it's an awards show!' I hear the Eagles are on, at least that lot make Aerosmith look young. We see Rock'n'roll, who's grown a beard so he looks mean to keep any psychos who might ask for an autograph away. I see Joe Perry, who looks surprised to see me, and then Steven with an entourage of several million, a bit like the pied piper. Steven looked fit and happy, it must be said. I'm not saying he's sane, just fit. Meanwhile Joe Perry travels with his gang of one, Rock'n'roll John B...

Went for a look around Amoeba. Got Sukiyaki Western Django by Takashi Miike, his films are either great or real rubbish. Found the original soundtrack to Midnight Cowboy on LP for $2.99, unplayed - got it just for the '60s cover.

November 22

Sunny and still cold-ish, went out for a wander and got lost around the French Quarter. It gives the impression everything is okay but something is missing.

Met up with James Hetfield and went to look at some cemeteries, as you do. Took some photos of places where people are, ummm, resting. Nice end of day winter light.

Headed off to Little Rock, Arkansas, somewhere I haven't been since about 1980 with UFO and The Outlaws...

November 21

I wake up in New Orleans, got in in the early hours of this morning. It was cold at 3am, now 75 degrees at 8.30, not bad for nearly December. I told Joe Perry I was coming here last week, we talked about my photo shoot with him at dawn walking around the French Quarter. I haven't been back since before the hurricane, must make the effort to walk around. I never liked it here that much, always thought the streets smelt of booze and piss, full of the worst type of American, looking to "Party".

After looking warm it turned into winter, just as some of the band and I went out on the bayou - just like the song. It looked just like you see in films, trees with moss hanging, muddy, full of alligators and big water rats, and the whole place smelled of sulphur. The sun was out but the heat was turned off. We drove on one of the boats with the large fan engines at the back. Heading into the wind was torture, California this was not. The guide spoke a mixture of Creole and a form of English I could barely understand. Born On The Bayou, as the CCR song goes...

It was fun - next time I must do it in the summer...

November 20

Off to Houston today via Chicago for Metallica. My flight to Chicago was full, full of Chavs going to Las Vegas for some big fight this weekend. Drinking all the way and talking about strip bars and the Vegas strip. They all seem to look the same, bald heads and tattoos. I even hear two of them say 'Be lucky', - if you're English you'll understand. After eight hours of this the pilot tells us we are landing on the new runway in Chicago which has only been open for thirty minutes. We land then spend another hour getting to the gate - the control tower hasn't figured out how to get traffic across the older runways. So we queue with the Chavs. They all get through - Kazuyo and I get secondary immigration. 'Are you taking work from an American citizen etc?' I need to shave my head and get some tattoos, life would be easier...

Finally we get out to a snowing Chicago then have to do security again and our connection to Houston is in the old terminal next to a world war II plane celebrating Bradley O'Hare, a pilot. Never seen this before, the plane looks like the sort of aircraft that fought against the Japanese. I wanted to look at it and read more but the gate is miles away. This is turning into a long day.

Fly on to Houston. I see some beautiful clouds with the last light of day as we land. I'm also on the wrong side of the plane to truly get them. Land at 6.30 and sit in rush hour for an hour heading to the Toyota Centre. See the band. Kirk is exceptionally nice because I give him the three cd UFO re-issues. Lars ignores me, nothing new there. See Dave THE SNAKE Sabo who pleads with me to write something nasty about him - it won't be a problem.

Sold out show, absolutely packed. I'm in another time zone and feel like I'm not there as if I'm observing from outside the venue. They played The Four Horsemen which was fine by me, good vibe for the show and the lights look better - more cohesive. Enjoy the show in a strange way - I need to go to bed...

Clouds over Houston at the end of the day.

Here's the cover of the new Guitar Legends issue, one of my pictures from a while ago...

 

 

 

November 19

Scott Weiland in his bedroom...

...and in the pool. The Philip Marlowe of rock. See more...

November 17

Been playing the remastered UFO CDs, Obsession and Lights Out. Both have extra live tracks that have not been out before. It reminded me of what a great band they were, and the booklets have good photos by me from the period. The sleeve notes are dross, ruined by the puerile interviews with the band. A pity - shame how everything with UFO is never quite right.

Been reading Letters To A Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke (a present from the girlfriend) and The China Lover by Ian Burma (another present from the girlfriend), and The Forever War by Dexter Filkins, about Iraq and Afghanistan.

As it's freezing here are some photos of Joe Perry in damp, cold Boston.

I was going to put some photos up of the huge new Metallica show just so you can download them for your PCs. Instead here's a special treat - your heroes with their hero...

 

November 14

Ran around London, saw Dave Brolan and Tom Sheehan, a photographer I've spoken to but never met, then had lunch with Jimmy Page who was saying how in the last year people in the street, shops, Tescos etc will not leave him alone, and sure enough in the space of thirty minutes two people came up and said 'Sorry to bother you but are you...?' and stood and didn't leave. I was trying to convince him to come with me to the Olympia record fair tomorrow, but perhaps it's not a good idea - Olympia will be full of grown men that still live with their parents.

Got a Hong Kong film, Mad Detective, and Frontiers, which sorts out Friday night indoors. Trying to decide if I'm going to Tokyo on Sunday for The Who. What's putting me off is I have to be in Houston and New Orleans with Metallica the middle of next week and it's a bit of a trek, even on a 777.

If anyone has Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse, Hell's Angels by Hunter S. Thompson or 2001, A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke, in hardback and wants to get rid of them do let me know...

November 13

The great Paul Weller in Dubai.

Flew into London. I was so tired I couldn't sleep so read on the plane. Finished Runway Runaway, Lorelei Shellist's book. Lorelei was Steve Clark's other half back in the day. It gives a good insight as to what Steve was like. Lorelei told me the Def Leppard fan base hate it. "It wasn't how Steve was". Fuck them, they didn't live with him, Lorelei did and it's all true.

Started re-reading Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridien. Steve Gorman (famous drummer) raved about and gave me this to read in the early '90s. I'd forgotten about it and found it in Book Soup in LA. A dark book on the Southwest. If anyone has a hardback copy they want to sell do let me know.

November 12

Flew to Chicago on the red eye, as it's called, arrived at 5am, then straight on to Boston. Felt okay considering I only slept a couple of hours. Met at the airport by John Bionelli and Kazuyo, who'd flown in yesterday from London to ogle John. Drove out to Joe Perry's house where I'm doing a photo shoot. It was a sunny autumn day, yellow, brown and red leaves on the trees and freezing cold.

I had a shower in Joe's gym to wake up and John arranged for Donnie Shiteman to come over and towel me dry - one of the many things Donnie is an expert at and John always looks after his friends...

The last time I'd seen Joe was on a flight back from Russia, so both of us are a bit rusty getting going. Started out shooting him on his horse, Trigger (what else), a big black horse like the Death Dealer in the Frank Frazetta painting. Trigger was extremely flatulent - I asked Joe if it was him or the horse. I next got Joe with a Lotus Super 7. Now I know nothing about cars, but what I did know was it was freeeeeeeeeezing. My head was thumping and I had to force myself to focus on what I was doing. By this time, there was quite crowd watching me work - McGee, Jim Survis, Donnie Shiteman, now dressed as the Lone Ranger, hoping Joe was going to let him ride his horse.

Kazuyo did a group shot of all of us with John posing with Joe guitar playing I've Got The Rock And Rolls Again while McGee hummed along. We retired to the warmth of the Boneyard Studio to shoot Joe with guitars. Got him to dig out his Telecaster from The Joe Perry Project, his Strat from the 70s, used on Sweet Emotion, a Les Paul Jr which he used a lot in the 70s and on The Joe Perry Project. It's been painted black with intricate inlays on the headstock that now say Joe Perry, he told me he broke the neck in temper at a Aerosmith show and has never taken it out of the house since.

Finish off the shoot with his motorbikes while Rock'n'roll John Bionelli played most of the Kiss catalogue on Joe's Tele. Left Joe in the studio working on the new Aerosmith album (I think...).

John drove Kaz and I back to Boston airport. We left him in tears. 'Why don't you stay for a few days? I always end up having to be nice to Russ Irwin and he's the most boring man I know and he never pays for dinner.' Tears were rolling down his cheeks... We both felt sad as we left our friend at check in. John was now singing I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing.

Off to Washington and then back to London. It was heart warming to see my Aero chums again. Back In The Saddle Again - maybe...

November 10

A day where I worked hard. Okay, I'm not digging a road but I had a lot to do in one day. I photographed The Sunset Marquis Hotel for a style magazine. The hotel is full so you have to work around everyone, and the shots you are taking are time exposures where you have to think about what you are doing - normally I shoot without thinking, I do it on autopilot.

Went to shoot Scott Weiland at his home at midday. Now Herr Weiland is not the most punctual human I know. To my surprise he was dressed ready and came up with the idea of floating in his pool in a suit on a lilo. Scott looked like a decadent 70s rockstar. I finished with portraits of him in a white suit sitting next to a lamp, smoking. It looked very noir, he looked like a forties film star. If it works it will be one of the best photos I've taken. It is fulfilling to do in something that works and Scott is good subject matter.

Back over the hill then to finish shooting the hotel, did the lobby/bar/villa - I was fried.

As I was finishing I see a huge bodyguard with a tall skinny man wearing a bowler hat walking through the lobby. It's Tommy Lee. I walk over, look at the glaring hulk next to Tommy and say 'Thomas?'. 'Dude,' shouts Thomas, 'Let's go to the bar and have a cocktail!' Thomas is all dressed up to go to a Motley press thing at the Whiskey. I sadly have to decline as I'm not finished. Now if it was "The good old days", I'd still be going tomorrow with T-Bone.

Finished at 7.30 but was too tired to do anything remotely wild. Quite a good day workwise.

Some more Classic Rock photos. The metal band shaking their fists are Airbourne from Melbourne who were a lot of fun. The two looking at each other are the dull and miserable Primal Scream. The rest I think you might know...

See more...

 

November 9

I had breakfast with Paul Stanley,The Love Gun (if I don't put that John Bionelli starts bombarding me with emails and leaving me voice messages singing Kiss songs). Paul told me they may make a Kiss record, which he'll produce. A real 70s Kiss style record. If Paul can stop painting which is his other career.

Sitting opposite was a rotund man with bright orange hair like a clown at the circus (or Clown in Slipknot), he was looking grumpy and sounded Irish. He wasn't friendly like Paul Brannigan, he was looking for an argument. It took me a while to figure out it was Van Morrison, truly one of the most miserable humans I've ever encountered. When I was young in the 70s one of my first jobs was for promoter Adrian Hopkins who sent me to Van's Notting Hill Gate home with the purpose of shooting some photos of him in the garden. I knocked at the door and waited for ages. The letterbox opened a bit and an Irish voice shouted 'Fuck off, go on, fuck off, I'm warning you.' I told the letter box why I was here. 'Fuck off, I mean it, fuck off, you cunt.' I waited fifteen minutes, knocked again. The letter box opened, 'Fooook off you little cunt, I'll have yer, I'll set the fooooking dogs on yer.' I then gave up and called Adrian. 'Oh, I thought he'd do that, he's a horrible man.' And some people want my job...

The second night of The Who. Took some photos of Pino and Zak, chatted with Simon Townshend. In the dressing room were Jakob Dylan and sons, plus Dani Harrison who was so public schoolboy posh I thought at first he was putting his accent on - he sounded like Prince Charles, talking about his new house in Malibu (which I'm sure is not a studio flat). I'm only jealous.

A couple of fans let me stand in between Pete and Roger, it was much better to shoot. It would have been hell otherwise, the venue from hell. Same set as last night. Pete jumped once and I got it. Good stuff towards the end, an even longer My Generation with a jam about the war with Pete telling the crowd a story about drinking tea from a dustbin in the blitz. Finished the set with a singalong Listening To You. Still great, to me the best band in the world.

November 8

Strange to wake up to warm weather and sunshine at 7am. It's a beautiful day.

I ran into Nikki Sixx last night, who I haven't seen for ages. Told him my son liked his book. Nikki looked well, he even had a beard in a devil sort of style. Nikki joins me in old age on December 11th. Strange to think how long I've known him, he told his girlfriend he met me in 1983 at the Cat and Fiddle Pub on Laurel Canyon and hated me - very Nikki. I reminded him we went to the Rainbow that night and watched Tommy and Vince fight. I might do a book on Motley, they were dangerous, you wouldn't want to mess with them...

The Who at the Nokia Theatre, a large theatre. Saw Roger before the show and did a photo of him with a Gibson SG. Roger is so normal he puts the normal back in normal. The Nokia has to be the most useless place to take photos. I was lucky a Who fan recognized me and let me stand in front of him, right in front of Pete. It was a bit squashed and I was right under Pete's nose. PT seemed to have a good show, even smiling at me between songs and speaking to me at the end of the show, though it was so loud I have no idea what he was saying. They finished with Tea and Theatre and Amazing Journey plus a jammed out My Generation. Got some good photos because it was so hard to shoot I had to try harder...

Dave Ling's online diary on the Classic Rock awards was funny. Jack Bruce was sober then - thinking about it he's Jockanese so if he was drunk you couldn't tell anyway, plus the only bit you'd understand was "Och Aye", so who knows what he said. And I did tell Dave no Dave Ling bands. I do regret missing Dan Reed on Friday, he was highly underrated in the day

November 7

Got up at 5am in an urge of "I'm going to get fit for Christmas", went to the gym, ran, trained, felt great by 8.30, then headed to the airport to fly to Los Angeles. Checked in and went to the United lounge thinking it's fruit for me. They had bacon sandwiches with HP sauce - my health kick was gone already. I mean, who can turn down a bacon sandwich, the museli of the working class...

My flight is full, absolutely rammed, only got a middle seat (okay, I'm admit I'm flying business) but sitting inbetween an old man and a Chinese man who keeps knocking my arm trying to get more elbow room or whatever you call it. I wonder how long I'll last without a row with him, - he's now done it four times.

Read the papers. The Times has a review of the new Genesis box set 70-74 period. Let's be honest it is shit unless you're some public school boy from the 70s. I even bought a Genesis bootleg dvd in Japan and thought I'm going to try to get "into it",it was shit. Bollocks, give me ELP, a real band anyday.

Got sent Mick Wall's giant tome, When Giants Walked The Earth, Led Zeppelin Biography. Mick's done a good job apart from the bit about the 02 show - he says the show had no magic. Only Mick would think that, and it isn't true. Led Zeppelin were magic that night "In Concert and Beyond" as they used to say. I was there and it was magical, the vibe from the crowd was magical, and the band were everything they were hyped up to be. Mick also has been speaking to occultist Dave Dickinson. Now when I knew Dave (who was a writer), it wasn't about the dark forces it was all about how much eye make up he had on and his love of Hanoi Rocks, a truly dreadful Finnish band. Dave seemed to think he'd be cool by hanging around a bunch of "Faeries" that used heroin. He was also small, about three feet tall, maybe he's used the Dark Forces to help him grow. "Do what thou wilt Dave, it is the whole of the law" etc...

Come on Mick, please do a book on Genesis, it's what the world needs. Or Iron Maiden, The Thoughts Of Bruce Dickinson, it would be wonderful stuff. And if I gave the impression Mick Wall's Zep book is bad it's not, I just don't agree with the 02 element of it and the thoughts of "Little Dave".

Going to Los Angeles to shoot The Who, still my fave band from my youth, the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world - they are to me, they made me want to become a photographer...

Some new magazine covers featuring my shots,

November 4

A day shooting Slash. This was meant to be in a studio then at the last minute was moved by his Los Angeles assistant to the Dorchester Hotel, to a tiny bedroom. So I had to move the bed, dressing table and everything in the room - not ideal. Slash is so nice you forgive him and he made the effort to get what I needed done. He was so jet-lagged he hadn't been to sleep.

On the way in to the hotel I ran into Mutt Lange who I haven't seen since the 80s...

November 3

Classic Rock Awards at The Park Lane Hotel. I spent most of the night with Dave Ling, who told me what sort of soap Crystal Palace Football team use in the shower after every game. Dave asked (in all seriousness) if I liked the new Uriah Heep CD. He did help me get subjects in to photograph and kept annoying drunks away. I am going to see Palace play (and shower) next week...

It was not bad to shoot at all. Ronnie Wood and Jeff Beck (who thanked me for some prints - that's a first, he normally tells me how awful everything is), Jack Bruce telling Diamond Dave Ling that Led Zeppelin were 'fucking shit - Eric Clapton's good and Jimmy Page is fucking crap, lame fucking gig, lame fucking band,' and on and on. I think "Wee Jack" was a bit bitter. He was nice to me though, which is another first as last time he was a miserable old man. Ozzy and Sharon, Slash with his wife Perla (who thought my girlfriend was my daughter, okay, I'll admit I might be a bit of a pervert). Anvil - Rob and Lips, who thought it was the greatest day of their lives (they need their brains looked at). I did a photo of them with Ronnie Wood, then Ozzy and Slash, a very fat and obnoxious Chris Tsangarides demanded to be in the photo 'I'm with the band!' Fatso really did say this. 'I'm the photographer, and you're not in the photo!' Fucking wanker. Another knob was Ray McVeigh, a nothing who was in The Professionals, he seemed to think he was more important than anyone in the room. Pete Makowski told me he was slagging off everyone on stage.

I sat at Pete's table for five minutes and he was such a bore I left and never went back. The Quireboys were drunk and fat and no fun, they all smelled like a bunch of old men leaving a pub. David Coverdale was a pleasure as always. Pete told me 'I'm pleased he got an award, people underestimate him and he's a real rock star.' David told Peter he was exhausted from flying Nagoya to London. 'Serves him right for flying on Easyjet,' said Peter. David's off to my homeland this week.

I find these events quite tiring to shoot as you have to be on top of what you're doing all night, still, it was sort of fun...

November 2

A picture of me at work recently, sent in by Alan...

 

I've admired your work for a while. Thought I'd share a shot I took of you in action during the Metallica rehearsal at the Cow Palace...

 

 

November 1

New cover of Mojo with my James Hetfield photo, and the issue has a good feature with photos on the Black Album inside, plus the cover and inside page from This Is Rock, with my pictures of Angus Young.

Been in warm Dubai, with the hot desert smell I love - look, it beats smelling damp and cold. On the way out of Heathrow airport I had Yo-Sushi, made and served by Poles, it was not good. Imagine Japanese cooking Polish food - well, I can and it's got to be better than Poles cooking it, and I've had plenty of experience watching Peter Makowski and Roman staying at my house drinking sour milk and eating rancid Polish sausage. No wonder my father hated them - give me a good dishonest Russian anyday.

This trip I was with Pat Gilbert, scriptwriter and mod. We are in Dubai for Paul Weller who's playing the Rhythm Festival. We get in a day early and after telling Pat all about Dubai (beaches, five-star hotels, The Rattlesnake Club at The Metropolitan etc) we find ourselves booked at the City Centre Hotel, which is like a one-star Novotel in the suburbs of Crawley. In fact we are so close to the airport that we can see jets landing and taking off on the runways from the roof. My room has a nice view of some air conditioning ducts.

Dave Clarke, PR and football bore ('Do you like football?' He smiles enthusiastically at me. 'NO!') is looking after us, which is a good thing as Dave does get things sorted - which makes a change from most PRs I deal with.

Had a night out putting the fun back in Dubai, or three intoxicated Englishmen thinking we are putting the fun back in the middle east. The next day (when I had a lot to do) was shall we say "Slow". Went to the venue to look around. They had the techno disco which went up three hundred feet run by two soap dodgy female DJs who were dancing with themselves, blasting awful music and chain-smoking. At the top of the platform I'm accosted by two Jockanese burnt animals whose accents were so strong I at first couldn't decipher where they were from. 'Are yooooou a journalist Jimmy ?' they slur, while looking at my three cameras. 'Are you Jockanese?' I say back to them. I leave them swaying with the crane. The crane was supposed to give a view of the skyline of Dubai, instead you had a view of a giant Ikea.

Went back to the hotel to look for Paul Weller. Couldn't find him at all at the hotel, thought it was strange, he must be sitting in his room. Meet Paul at the festival looking beetroot red, 'Been at the pool all afternoon.' Odd, I didn't see him. It then transpires he's at the five-star super new deluxe Intercontinental while we've been watching the airport runway. Anyway, Paul's up for doing whatever I need, so shoot a load of reportage style backstage. He's never been here and is convinced if you go out of the hotel you're going to get arrested for drinking and generally having a good time. He tells me that he had a blinding curry in the hotel at 4am. 'Who'd have thought it?' then tells me he had the worst curry ever in Brisbane. I point out we are next to India. He had no idea - geography clearly isn't his greatest subject...

He walks onstage, looks at the expat crowd, smiles and says 'Just like England, only warmer!'

Hard to shoot live with a high stage - had to stand on my camera box balanced on a chair, supported by Dave Clarke. Spent the second half of the show onstage, got some nice shots of Paul looking out which you don't normally see. His band were on fire, Paul told me he enjoyed it. I left him heading back to the airport.

Flew home today with a tired Pat Gilbert who'd been putting the fun back into Dubai once more, on his own this time. Home at lunch time and it's cold, raining and full of traffic..