I Know This Much: From Soho to Spandau. Gary Kemp. Биографии и Мемуары. . Читать онлайн. Литмир. LITMIR.BIZ

The right of Gary Kemp to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Desgins and Patents Act 1988

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Photographs not credited below have been supplied by the author. The author and publisher are grateful to the following for permission to reproduce their copyright material.

The Same Band—courtesy Ian Fox; first Blitz gig—Derek Ridgers; Steve Strange—David Johnson; Waldorf hotel—Herbie Knott/Rex Features; St. Tropez—Jean Aponte; HMS Belfast—Virginia Turbett; Botanical Gardens—David Johnson; Steve Dagger—Graham Smith; Casablanca club, Top Of The Pops backstage—Neil Mackenzie Matthews; at the Kemps’ house—Martin Kemp; New York—Neil Mackenzie Matthews; Ibiza—alanolley.com; Kemp family, Liverpool Empire, True tour—David Johnson; Parade tour Gary, ‘baroque ‘n’ roll’—Denis O’Regan; Barricades tour—Patrizia Savarese; Charlie Kray, ‘being Ronnie’—Richard Blanshard/Miramax; Gary and Lauren—Nick Harvey; Jonathan Ross show—Brian J. Ritchie / Rex Features.

While every effort has been made to trace the owners of copyright material reproduced herein, the publishers would like to apologise for any omissions and will be pleased to incorporate missing acknowledgements in any future editions.

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Source ISBN: 9780007323302

Ebook Edition © FEBRUARY 2016 ISBN: 9780007323333

Version: 2016-01-18

I stand opposite the house. I‘ve come here for something—ghosts maybe—but what can I possibly expect? Others hold the key. I feel hurt by its silent disregard. The old step, shaped from children‘s play, looks deserted now, unattended, no longer the stage it once was, and sadly smaller. Looking up, I can just see through the first-floor window, the window nearest the pub, the pub now gutted and boarded, empty and silent. There‘s a shaft of light on the far wall of the room that reveals its size, and suddenly the geometry unfolds and begins to take shape: the two single beds pushed against each wall; the large walnut wardrobe; the Arsenal scarf hanging like a smile on the moon-landing wallpaper; and the square hole my father made in the wall to keep a caring eye on his sleeping babes. To the left, a small boy with a new guitar now sits on his bed. I should know him but he‘s hard to see, hard to define, so many years have distorted him. But now I can hear the lively piano coming from the pub, the pub that spills people, all noisy and lewd with Christmas beer, into the cold street. I try to ignore them, to experience the guitar, strange in my hands, but the celebrations outside disturb my concentration. Laying it down on the bed, I cross over to the window to see what it is.

And suddenly, there I am.

To Finlay, Milo and Kit

‘I have nothing to say, entirely, simply, and with solidity of myself, without confusion, disorder, blending, mingling.’

Montaigne

‘The annoying thing is that critics in twenty years time will probably write a great, nostalgic, dewy-eyed retrospective on how good it was in these clubs in London and how these innovators were doing this that and the other.’

Steve Dagger (Sounds, 1980)

‘Time, he flexes like a whore, Falls wanking to the floor; His trick is you and me, boy.’

David Bowie

London, 27 January 1999

Chapter One: Wakey Wakey!

Chapter Two: Home-made

Chapter Three: We Are the Boys and Girls