Every Picture Tells a Story

I HATE having my photograph taken, I really do, which as you might imagine being an earnest rock god eager for public attention can create quite a dilemma.

The problem is purely and without apology ego and nothing much else.

I look in the mirror of a morning and wince. The older I get the bigger the groan as I peer half heartedly at my own reflection and ask for the billionth time why I don’t possess the rugged good looks of some Hollywood heart throb or rock superstar.

As the lines on my face begin to resemble a google map and my hair recedes faster than the tide at sunset I reluctantly contemplate that I possess a face and physique for radio.

Over the years I of course have had to endure said photo shoots for the sake of publicity and generally I have got away with it. At least I think I have.

My first proper and serious photo session in a studio was for the cover of the first album I was ever involved with. I was all green flight suit, long blond hair and sultry 19 year old glare and I think I managed to pull it off. Besides, my friend and comrade took all eyes off me by sitting on a piano stool. By the time the photo had been processed the moody shadow that framed us made it look like that he was only four foot tall. He was NOT happy.

Over the years I have had to endure the indignity of having a camera thrust in my face in order to get THAT shot that would sum up the rocker that was within.

This was all very well and good until I hit the dreaded 40’s and my waist line began to indicate that this particular rock star was going the way of Elvis and enjoying perhaps one too many beefburgers.

The last serious shoot I had to face was for the cover of the Mudheads Monkey album, Shout!!

The trouble with this album photography session was that it was actually a freezing cold day and the photo that we used turned out to be one of the very last shot. My gormless expression has rather more to do with my chops being frozen stiff than actually an endeavour to project any particular kind of mood.

I was also beginning to show the tale tale signs of middle age and several of my closest friends took great delight in pointing this out as the CD was sent all over the globe.

I kind of lost my confidence after that and have avoided the camera like the plague ever since.

With my current incarnation in The Mudheads I have managed to avoid this particular humiliation for the past seven years. That was until the current depression in live music in the south west has forced our hand to repackage ourselves as a serious bet and put together a highly polished highly professional promotion pack.

My excuses have finally run out especially as my daughter is a photography degree student, and as a band we are going to be getting out and about during the next weekend and trying to get just one decent shot of the band.

You’ll know me, I’ll will be the one hiding behind the younger and slimmer guitarist.

Emma has promised me that she is a whiz with photoshop; however even then it will be such a huge piece of software manipulation that should she pull it off she will be able to submit it as part of her course work…..she ought to be able to get a first out of this.

If you are interested, I have marked out some of my photo history on Face book. I will be adding new photos when we have done them.