artists

‘Who told you that you were naked?’

The most revealing question in literature was posed by The Lord himself many years ago in the story of the curious woman and the cunning snake – and Adam, their irresolute prey.

In brooding harmony with this scene, there are some 1970s photos of a band performing at the now legendary Architects’ Ball in Manchester.  We are all playing music but looking in one direction, at a lithe young woman who was dancing and entertaining us with her endlessly interesting snake.  We knew all too well that she wasn’t wearing a stitch. 

I think we were playing the Stones’ ‘Sympathy for the devil’ at the time.  Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.  Now, there’s a great tune and some chilling words from the prince of darkness about ‘the nature of my game’.  You might not even know you’re playing it.

Fast forward to 1977, a year of years, the Queen’s Silver Jubilee.  There were more gigs than ever.  All good fun but two of them stood out for drama, tension, and exuberance.

When you play a gig in a prison (even by invitation) there are some very obvious hurdles.  It’s hard to get in (and out, of course) and the audience is all male – and rowdy.  Our band’s lead singer, tragically, had killed his cheating wife in a sudden rage, and he was willingly paying the achingly sad price.  His prison band used our gear and made a great sound.  I can still hear ‘Just Walking the Dog’, one of the many things they couldn’t actually do.

We then played some tunes including ‘Crocodile Rock’ somewhat in fear of our lives, especially if we sensed we might not be catching the mood.  There was a shout of ‘make it snappy!’ which scared the life out of us for an instant – but turned out to be the belly laugh of the night, not the start of a riot. 

We actually had 10 CC’s ‘Rubber Bullets’ in our repertoire at the time but I’m not sure if we were man enough to do it.  I think we did.  Either way, our men friends for the night had one thing in common.  They knew they’d done wrong and were paying their debt. 

They knew the nature of the game.

In the same year our band opened up for Eric Clapton and some of his friends in a ‘secret’ gig in Surrey.  We did OK, they did great.  As we cleared up at the end, we picked up the brandy bottles that littered the stage. There had been rock n roll, fun and dancing girls, courtesy of some famous ladies who did the Cancan in costume.

And there it was again, the game of life without eternity that peaks at carnal excess, notoriety, many pleasures and some associated pains.  In the moment it may give you little more than a headache and doesn’t seem to kill you.  It’s a bondage that poses as freedom for a time but sells you down the river. 

The devil means ‘the divider’.  His game is always to make you think you can’t have heaven as well as earth.

What a filthy lie.

Jesus had thirty years to know the world, as it were, and grow as a man.  He met existence head-on with perfection – around the building site and everywhere else – turning all things upside down and showing us how to do the same, by faith, in three years.

I now see that I was given my first thirty-three years to learn how to operate in the world, in the Godly hope that I would one day be fruitful and multiply, and subdue it. 

It was training by stealth, a bit like special forces in the war whose selected hands were prepared in secret for a battle and a theatre they could not know until they got there.

We often seem to have a name that suits us, don’t we?  Martin means warlike and I would be the first to admit there are lots of occasions when you don’t want a warrior with a war cry, a loud laugh and a wrecking ball.  But it seems to be the Lord’s pleasure to have me as I am. 

My mother used to play Chopin as I went to sleep.  My Dad played drums in a dance band in the war.  My sister is a violinist.  I did not get on with the clarinet as a boy but I picked up a guitar when I was fifteen and I was away.  I find music of every kind completely fascinating and hard to do well.  Let’s all keep practising!

Being an architect means I often have a fairly detailed creative vision for something from the outset, from inception to realization. (I also have a stubborn streak – ask my wife).  It can be a bit disturbing for me when friends bring new sights and sounds that mess with a concept – but marinating always brings out the best notes and the spaces between them.  You just have to live with the newer flavours for a while and discard what you don’t really need.

Our Heavenly Father has made us all creative, like He is, ‘not being creative’ is learned behaviour that can be undone.  I have recently become much more aware of what I should be writing.  The more you get to know Holy Spirit the more He dances through your life.  Inspiration can be like a faint perfume trail after He has flashed through your soul for a millisecond.

I think I’m a slow learner in the area of collaboration but it is surely a wonderful thing.  Because of my dear friends and the musical gifts they have, I now have some idea of what I should sound like.  I’m totally grateful.

Father speaks to us in many ways.  Songs of Love and War has taken five times longer than expected but at least I can claim that the title of the collection came from Heaven.  You know, the way things suddenly enter your praying knower and stay there.

Fast forward again to the eighties and there I am giving testimony of my conversion to a packed house in Bermondsey, dressed in a sharp suit and bow tie (as I say, it was the eighties).  I told them all about my beautiful house, car, wife, children (cue Talking Heads track) and how my life didn’t seem to need Jesus – but He’d reached down to rescue me anyway. 

I had spoken in tongues for the first time that very day.  I remembered my good home and all those who had brought me before the Lord many times.  It was all perfect.

All the more so, by the wisdom of God, because I shared the stage with a man who had absolutely nothing, robbed at every turn because of drugs and crime.  His praying friends had been trying to keep Him out of prison.

I was undone by his story, we all were.

And there it is.  The man who has it all and the man who has nothing, both desperately grateful for The Everlasting Miracle.  Day by day I understand that grace and humility are hugely powerful, but not as a man would devise them. 

Analogies have limitation but I like to think of the forest floor, kept clean and fresh by billions of living creatures and organisms that deal with dead wood and detritus over years and years and turn the soil.  They are the grace of God to us in Creation and they’re not in a rush.

Jesus v Snake is a Kingdom Victory by a knockout in all the seconds of all the rounds.  Even when things look bleak, darkness is generally sawing off the rotting branch that it is sitting on and squawking about its power of incision.  Oops!

Hezekiah the revival King has been like a kindred spirit to me through my Christian walk.  The parallel is one of many miracles.  His story of when war came to Jerusalem is in the bible in three different places, and we know that Father emphasizes something by saying it three times.

We’re born into a war whether we like it or not and love really is the answer.  Like Hezekiah, it falls to us as Fathers to tell our offspring of the faithfulness of God [Isaiah 38:19].  I can testify that a thriving and diverse worshipping family will result from choosing to walk close to Him, in step.

I have yearned to put it all into words and music.  I haven’t known how to do it, but I got a lot of help along the way, just when it was needed. 

Knowing the beautiful providence of the Unseen Hands is the real game of life.

I first heard Aylwin Steele sing when he was tiny.  It was joyful and very accurate and the music has never stopped.  He has great ears and writes, performs and arranges beautifully.  Having Aylwin produce me has been such a result – all the more since Frances and I produced him.

His band The Zealots have been making great soul music together for years.  One of the simple open secrets of how to succeed is to enjoy your friends and never stop giving each other a leg-up.  It makes for a rising spiral of fun.

Jermaine Whyte is a Zealot, the soulful metronome on drums for much of Songs of Love and War – a jewel in a long line of treasures who have brought colour, texture and drive, creating and capturing the vibe.  Grateful thanks also go to Dave Brussée, Tim Collins, Ben Goss, Joe Martin, David Sweetman and Marc Seager.

Michael Wray has taught me much about music, composition, playing keys and a life well lived.  Michael is a generous and hugely gifted writer and musician with quite a pedigree.  What you get from Michael is 100% authentic. We’ve done lots of gigs and I hope we’ll have many more musical adventures.  Keys on many tracks were provided by Jake Edwards-Wood another Zealot who similarly drips with talent and has an awesome cv as an artist, writer, producer and MD.  And did I mention Aylwin adding some keys parts? Hard to believe I’ve been working with so many proper musicians – some of whom, like me, call Eastgate in North Kent their spiritual home. 

I spent years as a bass player and have an inbuilt appreciation of the art.  When my wife Frances sings Baroque music with her choir, I always hope to sit near the double bass players – who work as hard as anyone and underpin everything.  Whoops of appreciation for bass work go to Matt Gallagher and Paul Davis – and ..erm.. Aylwin who pops up again with another skill. 

Acoustic and electric guitars and mandolin are played by Yours Truly.  Chris Sweetman anchored an amazing session with his twelve string, kindly taking some time out of raising his own vast musical dynasty.  Aylwin (him again) coloured in splendidly with many guitars.  Check the tone!

I may be wrong, but I reckon Jesus plays slide guitar on the porch to get Himself happy before He goes out to feed the hungry and free the captives. 

Paul Bungay – a friend for many years and many gigs – has astonishing range and accuracy, layering vocals wonderfully.  Claire Goss was amongst the first to journey with me, on a day far, far away before she became a Mum.  You’d have to go a long way to find a vocalist with such encouraging presence and warmth.  Paul Oakley is full of creative wisdom.  His vocals are a powerful gift to us – honest and faithful, like the God He loves.  He doesn’t hold back and has a celebrated testimony of a lifetime in music to prove it.

If you enjoy good strings you’re likely to be very appreciative of Elaine Patience and Phil Jack.  These people have so much music in them.  Their work in the studio was complemented by the joyful enthusiasm of Marion Davis.  (Marion also plays another instrument besides violin.  When you want one of them, nothing else will do.  However, it comes with a health warning and a squeezy bag).

Music can be a bit like cooking.

I remember making proper Coronation Chicken years ago.  I still find it hard when I picture all the beautiful fresh ingredients that got strained out through the muslin bag and discarded. 

On the day of the picnic in Kew Gardens, the flavour of the finished dish came from all the time and preparation – everything that went into it, the chopping, the mixing and measuring, sometimes the waiting.

Some of our sounds ended up on the cutting room floor, but everything was fresh, tasty and interesting.  Nothing was unnecessary.