A Gentle Wildman
- Boaz Goldberg
- Aug 27
- 24 min read
Updated: Sep 3
He was a wild Indie guitarist and a legendary vintage shop owner in London, but some things kickstarted Leigh Wildman’s return to releasing new music. From having tea with 90's Jarvis to working in the special educational needs world today - here’s the full story of a great man
By Boaz Goldberg
English Rocker Leigh Wildman recently released two very beautiful, intimate and cool albums, in limited edition, on vinyl only, and that raised one of the most unresolved questions in my mind. We will never get an answer to it, but we can't stop asking the question: Is a certain experience from the distant past registered in our memory according to the spirit of the age (i.e., the external world/object) or more according to your biological age and your life experience (the internal world/subject)? Which is more dominant? I am 51 today, and I am trying to gather memories and experiences from the time I lived in London, at the age of 23, in 1997 and 1998. What kind of London do I remember, and what kind of Leigh Wildman, who was a good friend of mine there and a charismatic owner of a sexy vintage shop called Delta Of Venus, do I remember? How differently would that London of the late 90’s have been perceived by me if I had experienced it at the age of 40? These are questions that we will never get a definitive answer to, and yet, they are questions that never cease to occupy me. But first, who is Leigh Wildman?
Atomic Cohesion
When I landed in London in late July 1997, those were my post-Glory Nights days. “Glory Nights” were a series of Mod and Rock-N-Roll parties that I organized, together with Dana Kessler, Dan Shadur and Itay Hirshberg, at the Golem club in the heart of Tel Aviv. We did more than 50 of them. This was a few moments before the Internet came along and changed everything. We would arrive at the parties dressed in Top Mod, with boxes of records and CDs in our hands. I was the one who mixed and created the musical sequence that consisted of 60’s Mod and Garage hits, Groovy Soul, Ska, Easy Listening (more or less Psychedelic), elite NY & British Punk, a bit of Britpop and Indie, and all sorts of X-factors that made this line legendary in the eyes of many. Once every two weeks, on Fridays, hundreds of happy partygoers would blow up the club. Why did I never initiate a recording of my Glory Nights set live for a mini-disc? It's really unclear. We documented it on stills, but why didn't we record it on video? More questions without answers.
For more than a year and a half we ran like this. We lived from it, we lived on it. We dressed in a colorful, sharp, psychedelic, edgy Mod style. This thing gradually took over every area of life. At that time, I couldn't fit into "normal" jobs. I was the Glory Nights man - the G.N DJ and the Bassist for Indie Britpop Punk band Cnaque/Pop. It filled me up, it was more than enough for me, and I was very proud of it.
At some point, the cracks started to appear, because that's how it is. Reality starts to interfere, and everything that has life also has an end. The vibe of 1995, the year Glory Nights was launched, was different from the vibe of 1997. When "Napster" arrived, suddenly every nosy person felt like he could be a DJ. Hey, some of them were actually good, but in a way, 1995 was still in the era of horses and carriages compared to 1997, which already offered cars. And it wasn't just that. Glory Nights, that is, Me, Dana, Danny, and Itay, functioned just like a band. And as in bands, at some point a second circle of close friends was formed that naturally influenced and pulled some of the members in a different direction. The atomic cohesion of the first circle began to unravel at a certain point, as did me and Dana’s relationship. If you add to that a fairly significant consumption of ecstasy, you can understand why each of us found ourselves quite confused, to say the least. In January 1997 Danny left, two months later Dana left to London - and I continued with DJ Poka (Rani Steiner) helping me and Itay popping in from his army service sometimes. Eventually, Danny returned for one last party. We blew up the biggest club in Tel Aviv, Allenby 58. and turned off the lights on the Glory Nights in July 1997, a few days before I moved to London, this time to live there and not as a tourist.
A pilgrimage to Delta Of Venus
I arrived in London with a new partner, Tai, and I had Shy Nobleman there, who was just working on launching his 60's Powerpop solo career but was also studying Media in college and was a bit busy. Aviv and Ilana, who were good friends of Tai, occasionally invited us for dinner plus a movie, but they returned to Israel pretty quickly. I had Maytal there, who had already lived in London for three years and knew a lot, and for the first two months even Dana lived not far from me, but we were no longer together and each of us lived in our new relationships. Changes were big, sharp, and rapid. The thing is that a day or two after I arrived in London, I made a pilgrimage to Delta Of Venus. I remembered this sexy, cool, beautiful shop from a previous visit to London, when I was there with Dana in October 1996, but I think it was Leigh's partner, Chris, who was there then. By the way, Chris was from Cambridge, and had fascinating stories about chance encounters with the elder Syd Barrett - but that’s for another story.
It was like a ritual. Once every two or three weeks I would arrive at the Delta of Venus, something like an hour and a half before closing, Leigh would send me around the corner to get a bottle of red wine, and the party started
When I walk into the shop that afternoon in late July 1997, I hear a bootleg of the Rolling Stones from the 70’s, played on a tape recorder, in a raunchy, rough, good sound, and the space is filled with a million beautiful things: clothes, records, shoes, prints, rare pop goods from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s. The curation is very high-end, really vintage haute couture. There's an impressive guy walking around the shop, wearing one of those silk paisley shirts, blue, black, and purple if I remember correctly, an old tight jeans and some kind of desert boots, looking exactly like a 35-year-old Rocker should look. His hairstyle still resonated with Keith Richards, minus the mallet. His whole look felt like something deep is going on, something that’s been built and developed, something integrated and not defined to the bone, something that hasn't been dressed up like it’s Halloween.
His name is Leigh Wildman, he owns the place. He's originally from Billericay and also lived in the most (perhaps) beautiful English city in the UK, Bath. He describes himself as a retired musician. Strangely enough, I, even though I was 23 and about 12 years younger than him, defined myself in exactly the same way.
Meeting Leigh was exactly what I needed and also what I wanted. At that point I was fed up with that orthodox British Mod attitude, and Britpop, at least for the most part, was already in a state of nauseating hangover. The post-Britpop days essentially heralded the era of Cultural uniformity and all that jazz. The very early stages of Hyper-Globalization, which eventually led to social networks and new media, felt like a transitional period, like a vacuum waiting to be filled with something.
Leigh and I sat, chatted and immediately found a very serious common ground around Marc Bolan and T. Rex. We didn't stop talking about Marc, about his various phases, about his short life, about the huge comeback that almost happened. After about two hours I solemnly announced: "I'm going on from here to a Robyn Hitchcock gig in Denmark Street - would you like to join me?" Leigh knew Hitchcock better than I could have imagined. It immediately became clear that both Robyn and Leigh had worked with the same music producer I knew from my record sleeves, Pat Collier. Anyhow, Leigh flowed with me and here we are at the 12 Bar Club, at a Robyn Hitchcock concert. I remember my first Newcastle Brown beer there, which Leigh recommended. And then another and another and another. And then, at a certain point, one of us just disappears and that’s the end of the night, because that's the way it is.
“Hey Buzzz, let’s get smashed”
It was like a ritual. Once every two or three weeks I would arrive at the Delta of Venus, something like an hour and a half before closing. Leigh would send me around the corner to get a bottle of red wine, not expensive and not very cheap, which signaled the beginning of the party. He decided to call me Buzzz, because for him I brought the buzz with me. I would help him close the shop, fold and tidy up what was needed, and then we would walk the same, familiar route, feeling light, almost tipsy and a little drunk on wine, to the bars of “Foggy old Camden Town”, as Leigh would say.
Leigh would ask about Israel, how people are coping with the hot weather, about the British Mandate period in Israel and such, and he liked to talk about his attraction to historical war films. He also told me about some mythical Italian ex-girlfriend, and about vacations in the Canary Islands. But mostly we talked about music. About Marc Bolan, endlessly about him. About how he couldn't conquer America even though he wanted to so much, about the transition that went on between the duo's T.Rex and the Electric Warrior's T.Rex in band format. And then another change, when it became “Space-Funk Glam”, as Leigh liked to say. To this day, this is my favorite phase of Bolan - 1973 to 1976.
Leigh also told me a lot about The Seers, his band in the 80`s. About the tour they did with the Ramones (!); about the scar that no one knows about on Joey Ramone's forehead, which explains his strange bangs (and what caused it - freebasing); about the tour with Iggy Pop during the ‘Instinct’ period (!); about his acquaintance with the writer Nina Antonia, who wrote books about the New York Dolls and Johnny Thunders; And also about his second band, which he left not so long ago, a band called The Persuaders. He would explain to me nuances like what it means to be a “Shepherd's Bush Mod”. All kinds of anecdotes and things that were important to me and I liked to hear. Then we arrived in the area of The Good Mixer, The Spread Eagle (“old Spread”) & The Dublin Castle, drinking and continuing chatting. At some point, my favorite beer became John Smith’s. Then, if it was the weekend, we would go on to some party at The Monarch, or maybe a house party we heard about. At one point Leigh would say, “Hey Buzzz, let’s get smashed”, and that would be the signal for a particularly rowdy night, which could also end at that bar in Camden that only locals knew, technically called “Off License”.
Leigh Wildman: "It was the kind of shop that people would drop in and stay for a cup of tea and a chat. Kate Moss, Jarvis, Oasis, Suede - they all dropped in"
Echoes of that magical place
Sometimes Leigh and I would go to Dirty Water Club nights in Tufnell Park, and there was the amazing and fun “The Frat Shack” party line with Josh Collins and his girlfriend, Babz, at 333 Old Street. One night we were in Soho, at Keb Darge’s Deep Funk party. Another time we went to the Mousetrap Mod party, and there was that time when Leigh, Maytal and I went to a party where I DJ’d an hour-long set, at a squat in Finsbury Park, organized by Stewart (or was it Danny?), the same guy who did the cool and wild “Kitsch Bitch” parties, which we loved the most, without any competition. Once we were gatecrashers at some Japanese house party somewhere. I remember the light fixture from there that I later copied several times: take a large aluminum foil, pierce it with lots and lots of small holes and cover a TV screen with it. Watch it lit up by this thing. Try it. The effect is exciting and surprising. Like whispering coals, like T. Rex's Space-Funk-Glam.
On September 30th, 1997, twenty years (and two weeks) after Bolan's death, we were at a special “T.Rex Disco” event in his memory. It was a crazy T.Rex party, with a really good tribute band called T.Rextasy with special guest Mickey Finn. Tony Visconti and Marc's son, Rolan Bolan, were there. We saw so many bands when I lived there. We saw Thee Headcoats a bunch of times, and Sexton Ming, and The Flaming Stars, and Gary Valentine, and Wayne Kramer. We saw Suicide at a reunion show, and Dee Dee Ramone at a special acoustic show, and we saw bands like Electrocuting Elvis, Jack & The Rippers, and lots and lots of cute little garage bands like The Diaboliks or Quant. I would spend whole days wandering around record store basements, finding bargain rarities. All kinds of Rock-N-Roll 7-inches and forgotten albums.
I remember hearing Pulp's new single, "Help the Aged", premiering on the radio. I loved it. It was sad, with a melancholic feel. Like a lament for the days that would never come back. And they really never did. At the same time, I kept feeling that I came to live in London too late. That I missed the extreme Mod parties. It was probably mostly an internal feeling, but the same question arises again - Zeitgeist vs your age and experience - what is more dominant? By the way, I avoided drugs during the entire London period. No Cannabis, no Ecstasy, no Speed, sure enough no Acid. A somewhat sensitive period. Only beers and red wine. Apparently, this also affects how things are stored in your memory three decades into the future.
Eventually, the London winter, even though I spent the whole thing without a coat, caught up with me. I wanted to study film and I knew I wanted to do it in Israel. I went and became more and more homesick until I returned to Tel Aviv in early May 1998. Things looked different when I came back. People were looking for more and more Big Beat, House, Electro, Techno, Tec-House and such, and I'm talking about people who were regulars at the Glory Nights. Don't get me wrong, I really love electronic music, it's not a purist thing as much as the vibe just changed. I did the “Flame” party line in the Lemon club with Ilana and Tai, where I first met a beloved friend and a nightlife man which I really love too - Rafa (now the owner of the mini-club Hanky Panky). “Flame” didn't last like the Glory Nights, and in the spirit of the launch of the fast digital age we folded after ten parties.
I met Leigh again on my visits to London in 1999 and 2001. I stayed at his new flat on Paddington Street (the old one was 55d Freegrove Road) where I met Poppy the cat again, and we did the same routes, with a slight deviation to the Damien Hirst-designed Restaurant-Bar in Notting Hill Gate, The Pharmacy. One night we also met Leigh's old time Seers partner, Bassist Jason Collins. I remember the three of us singing Glam-Rock hits on the way to the ol` Spread. That was Jolly good fun. In those days I would also send friends to the Delta of Venus. I sent the (nowadays) DJ and singer-artist-nightlife woman Ahal Eden and her best friend at the time, the (nowadays) artist Noa Yafe. I sent him the Indie Rocker Ram Orion and his beloved partner from that time, Asia. One day, after returning from a vacation in London, Dana Kessler told me that she met Leigh, standing in line for a documentary about Johnny Thunders (an unsuccessful one called Born To Lose), wearing a cool gold or silver puffy sports jacket, and that he was sending me his regards.
Leigh Wildman: "I think my albums should be used as scores to a low-fi sci-fi art house film. Maybe I should contact Disney or Marvel. I think I could score the soundtrack to Godzilla v Kong or something"
We kept in touch a little through nice and funny letters, but neither of us had the patience to keep it up for too long. Life takes you in your own direction, and it's not the easiest thing to suddenly communicate in a completely different format. Over the years, I've gotten to immerse myself in quite a few black-and-white photos I took in Leigh's magical and powerful shop. It's a bit ironic that you don't see the color in such a colorful place, but here's where your imagination comes into play. As I write these lines, I realize that my previous house - the apartment I moved into in 2020 - which was designed by me and Dorin, was cosmically and unconsciously inspired by Delta Of Venus - especially the colors we chose for the walls. Maybe that's why right then, about two months after I've been living in a space that echoed that faraway place, I contacted Leigh.
A little help from Phil King
I remembered from one of those letters that Phil King, the bassist for Lush and The Jesus and Mary Chain, had become a good friend of Leigh's. I met the lovely Phil King when The Mary Chain visited Tel Aviv in 2012, and eight years later I contacted him on Messenger. King sent me Leigh's number, and that's how Leigh and I reconnected after almost two decades of not hearing from each other at all. I discovered that he was living in central London with his wife Tomoyo, and to my surprise, he was back playing and recording, and said he was going to release his first solo album very soon. It was intriguing.
After I got Wildman’s first solo album via air mail, I wrote him:
Dear Leigh, I luv your album, so cool. "Open Road" has the T.Rex Transition sound (before Electric Warrior and after the solo acoustic). Luv the guitar work. Also the piano, the tunes are very cool. You know, It reminded me of what you listened to on a tape cassette when I entered the DOV the 1st time, in late July 1997. It was a rare bootleg of The Stones from the 1970's.
Leigh Wildman: "I love restrictions. It means that I get things finished. Too many options and it’s never ending"
I also luv the experimental track "The Sound of the Machine", amazing - I think my Headless Elvis album has that weird experimental vibe haha. And the editing, with all those bits of soundbites from films, wonderful. "End of the Road" reminds me of Syd Barrett’s 1974 sessions - his last ever recordings. Otherwise, love that ragged Bluesy vibe dear Leigh! When we met, you said - "I'm a retired musician". Well, you're quite active!
In January 2025, Leigh's second solo album finally reached me. In a WhatsApp message, Leigh writes: “Please light a joss stick and enjoy. x”.
I lit it. I start with the B-side. The first notes throw into Bo Diddley's "Roadrunner", and then it changes to Wildman's imagined atmospheric Americana. Not Americana like Leo Kottke, but more like how Keith Richards takes Americana, only on his really laid back day. Between 1995 and 2005, Bolan's guitars on T.Rex's "Jewel" would scratch the hardwood floors of Delta of Venus - on and on and on. Side B of Wildman 2 really brings Bolan's guitars on "Jewel" straight to 2025.
So, here it is. After all is said and done, here’s the full, sensational, fantastic interview I made with the 2025 Leigh Wildman 🕶🖤
The Interview
BG: Dear Leigh! It’s an amazing feeling to interview you! First of all, What's happening with the places we used to go to? The Monarch, HQ's, The Dublin Castle, The Spread Eagle, The Good Mixer, Kitsch Bitch… do they exist?
LW: I only occasionally visit the Ale houses of London these days . But I do love the old pubs that have survived modernisation. I think you’ll find the pubs of Camden Town relatively unchanged. Alas, Camden stables market is a shadow of its former self. Still a popular tourist destination in spite of the disappearance of RnR vintage clobber and stuff . It’s mostly fast food these days, I’m afraid to say.
BG: What is your favorite drink today?
LW: A glass of Abbot Ale or Red wine. I will occasionally meet up with friends for a Pint in one of the many great pubs that are nearby. I’m lucky enough to live in the heart of Soho in London. Tomoyo loves cooking so we might drink a bit too much during an occasional social gathering. Saki and Japanese food are really lovely.
BG: How do you feel nowadays, in London 2025? What has changed since I last visited you in 2001? I know this is a huge question, haha. You could break it down into topics - music, live gigs, vintage shops…
LW: London has changed a lot since the Mid 90`s early 2000s. It's mostly to do with mass immigration and over development. Artificial intelligence is also to blame. Phone addiction and Uber delivery. It's awful. The rise of the Robots. In fact my next Record will be covering these themes - AI and the dawn of the Robots.
BG: When was the last time you walked down Drummond Street? If so, how did you feel walking there?
LW: I cut through Drummond st occasionally on my way to Euston station. It still has a little of its original character but not much. Alas, no sexy vintage clothing boutiques.
Leigh Wildman: "I drifted towards Spacey-groovy freaky music - underground counterculture bands like The Pink Fairies and Hawkwind, which I still enjoy today"
BG: What kind of music do you mostly listen to these days?
LW: I have a great collection of Records. Lucky me . I can enjoy original vinyl from many different genres. I love 60`s and 70`s Rock, film soundtracks. I have enjoyed classical music a lot over the last few years. Film music has inspired me a lot. French pop, Japanese Rock and probably German cosmic Rock (Krautrock) more so than anything else. Also a few of the best bands of the 90`s such as Stereolab and so forth.
BG: Let’s talk about your albums. How did you record these two beautiful LP’s? How did you get that sound?
LW: Two things kickstarted my return to recording and releasing music. The main thing, I am working in the special educational needs world - with young people and adults. I was doing different things but mostly art and music. A kind of therapist I suppose. When I found an old acoustic guitar in a broom cupboard at work and played some blues, I knocked off a couple of T.Rex hits - you know how catchy they are and I love to boogie. The kids loved it, they kept asking me to play. Much to the dismay of some of the managers, ha ha.
The second thing - I acquired a home recording tape machine from a friend. I realized I could record music in my own sweet time and play whatever I wanted. It’s been good fun. The Two albums have been played and produced by me and then completely and totally edited and sequenced by my post production editor Peter Blundell. Peter was the leader of an experimental music group Mosquitoes. He is currently working on his solo LP. I really enjoy the process of cutting and pasting with Peter. Of course by this stage the original analog taped sounds are within a digital studio. We can move things about and add something or other, but we are very restricted by the original taped music ,which dictates what we can do. It’s not like an endless modern studio with 100s of tracks and channels. It’s mostly better this way. Tape saturation, hiss and crazy homemade FX . I love restrictions. It means that I get things finished. Too many options and it’s never ending.
BG: Did you record them one after the other or all together? I think the second one - “Wildman 2” - is more atmospheric and homogeneous, and also more Americana. Am I right?
LW: Yes, ‘Wildman 2’ is a lot better. I’m a bit embarrassed by the first one. A lot of ‘The Exciting Sound of the Machine’ is too old fashioned and slow. I do like a few tracks. It’s conceptual and very original. I mean, I practically nailed it in a great moment of clarity. The Exciting Sound of the Machine is inspired by the book 'Early Country Motoring` by John F. Bridges. The story of the arrival of motorized travel - circa 1896 -1940. It’s a fantastic book. Of course it’s funny that I created a thematic LP based on such a thing. I can’t drive a car. In fact the album is light hearted in places but does also reflect the horrific tragedy of the motor car. Tracks like "(Tis) The Invention Of The Devil" and so forth. ‘Wildman 2’ was a bit more attention grabbing, better music maybe, certainly better production, but the original concept was less focused then the first album. I will be exploring the subconscious dream world in my next LP. I imagine that my albums would make good film soundtracks.
Leigh Wildman: "I don’t know if my music is Americana, or what that means. It was a bit funny to me"
BG: Where does your attraction to Americana come from? Have you ever visited the USA?
LW: Connor Winyard wrote the press release for my Albums. Connor is a young man who works at Sister Ray. A great record shop in Soho. Anyway, he wrote a jolly good summary of the exciting Sound of the Machine which is included with early copies of the album. I think he mentioned Americana in the PR. It was a bit funny to me. I mean I don’t really know if my music is Americana, or what that means.
I am influenced by Old England and Folk guitarist Bert Jansch a lot. He really attacks the acoustic guitar. I don’t use a plectrum anymore like I used to in my old heavy indie Rock band. I sometimes play improvised blues folk within the special educational world. I just drift about in my favorite drop D minor key. It's very calming to use minor keys for extra challenge clients. Some of these psychedelic-freaky jams have found their way onto my albums. ‘Horse and Trap’ from the exciting sound LP is very Bert Jansch informed.
I think Americana is a fairly recent tag for a style of old Blues put about by a new generation of musical writing. My PR man is only in his mid twenties. I did go to America in the early 2000s . A couple of mates and I hired a car and they drove around the Rocky Mountains for a few weeks. I didn’t find the American dream but it was great fun.
Air guitar freak out with Iommi
BG: Tell me about the wonderful sleeve photos of your second album. What do you remember from that day?
LW: The photos on ‘Wildman 2’ are from my old Shop Delta of Venus. A glamorous vintage boutique circa 1995 - 2005 in London. The shop was hired by a photographer for the day and he wanted to shoot young people dressed up in clothes that we had in the shop. The shop specifically adored 1960`s and 70`s music and fashion. I was given some prints to use as publicity. I found them recently in a shoe box and decided to use them on Wildman 2. They are lovely pictures. The shop had only been open a short time, the photos are dated 1995 on the back.
It looks funny now but we forget how retrospective nostalgia swept everything else away for a few years. Easy listening, loungecore, the dreaded Britpop tag etc. We take it for granted now. The nostalgia police have completely rewritten the history of pop music and fashion. It was a fantastic shop with beautiful young people dropping in. I met everyone that was driving the music and fashion world at that time. Oasis, Blur, Suede, Elastica, Primal Scream, Kate Moss and many wonderful friends, too many to mention. It was the kind of shop that people would drop in and stay for a cup of tea and a chat. Jarvis Cocker once told me the correct time to brew a cup of tea was 8 minutes.
BG: I remember you've told me about your first musical experiences. You saw Slade in concert when you were 14, right? Wow. Tell me about your first musical experiences in the 1970`s.
LW: The first band I ever saw was Slade at the The Hammersmith Odeon in London in 1974. My Auntie took me. I was 12. I am still crazy on Slade. I also love Marc Bolan and T.Rex. I think British Glam Rock - 1971 - 1974 - was really special. I then got into the heavier bands. I was mad on Black Sabbath. I saw them in 1978 in London. I jumped on stage and had an air guitar freak out with Tony Iommi. Osbourne was still in the band. He left after that tour. I left school in 1978. I was 15 and Punk Rock was the main thing. I saw a lot of great live bands and went to many music festivals. I was experimental and open to most of the hedonistic recreational activities available at the time. I drifted towards Spacey-groovy freaky music - underground counterculture bands like The Pink Fairies and Hawkwind, which I still enjoy today.
BG: Tell me a little about what it was like to be a guitarist in an indie band in the 80's. I mean, relatively to most of the bands we saw at The Dirty Water club, The Seers were quite big.
LW: My memory of The Seers is mostly positive but not always. I think we had a great time. We functioned in the last days of the old fashioned music industry. You had to record an album in a big expensive studio and be signed to a record label, go on tour promoting your new single. The travelling was a bit tedious in the end. Endless motorways and transport cafes . We did play some big tours supporting Ramones and Iggy Pop in 1988.
Leigh Wildman: "Hey man, it’s pretty good and I want people to hear it. I have the digital file/music of all the recordings and have a good mind to put them out online one of these days"
I don’t really know if we could have gotten any further then we did. Most of our records sold enough to get in the top 20 of the independent charts. I think we had a 4 year run. That's about all most bands can survive. I was in my mid-20's and was ready to split when we came back from Japan in 1991. I probably couldn’t stand it anymore. We had a lot of conflicts - musically and socially and I was definitely very moody and introspective towards the end. I mean, it was my band originally but I wasn't able to articulate my feelings or direct the band in the way I wanted. I was asked by certain band members to cheer up or leave, so I left. They broke up a couple of months later. We all had to get day jobs.
BG: You have no online presence at all. That's rare, especially for someone who releases an LP. How do you manage without being online? It sounds like a lot of fun to me, in a way. But is it possible to promote an album like that?
LW: AI and the world web - This is changing human beings at an unprecedented pace and level, it’s scary. I’m obviously not a fan . Basically I just about get by in the modern world. I mentioned earlier about work and jobs, well I’m a musician and an artist but I have had a lot of work experience. I had the lovely clothes shop Delta of Venus and later on an art poster shop in Camden Town that was called SteamPower poster company. The trouble was the rise of the internet happened during my shop career. That was pretty well the end of the High street life for me.
I wanted a total change of lifestyle. I decided to work within the Special educational needs world. That was all fine and dandy - art and music therapy and so forth, but the problem was that by this time the internet and iphone had taken over the world completely. I was asked to write risk assessment forms on a computer, and do many unmentionable tedious things on a computer or a large phone. My lovely co-workers would help me out but it was a trying time for me . It was during the end of this particular work experience that I started recording my recent albums - about 3 or 4 years ago.
I have released two LPs on Vinyl only, for sale in record shops in London - Sister Ray and Sounds of the Universe - and Online. Occasionally they turn up here or there but of course a lot of people haven’t heard them due to the fact they can’t download them. That didn’t bother me so much with the first album but I was a bit frustrated with Wildman 2. Well, because hey man, it’s pretty good and I want people to hear it. There has been a vinyl renaissance but vinyl is very expensive and a lot of people are out of the habit of paying for any form of music or film entertainment. It's not just vinyl, nobody’s buying CDs or DVDs or even paying their BBC Tv license. That world has been swept away.
Anyway, I have the digital file/music of all the recordings and have a good mind to put them out online one of these days. I’m looking into the formats available. I think they should be used as scores to a low-fi sci-fi art house film. Maybe I should contact Disney or Marvel. I think I could score the soundtrack to Godzilla vs Kong or something like that. I did recently receive a PRS check for a Seers recording used in China recently, it was on the B-side to our 5th single, on the `Fear Of Technology` EP called `Splitting The Atom`. I think they sent me about 100 pounds. ha ha phewie!
BG: What about doing shows? Are there any plans to perform with these materials? to go live?
LW: Apart from my private music therapy work which I enjoy, I don't think I will play any concerts. The Seers did a reunion concert about 18 years ago. That was successful and quite enjoyable. I am recording some music with someone I met recently. He has a lot of interesting musical gadgets.. he is a go getter type of person and maybe something will happen. Otherwise I am very excited about my next LP.
BG: So what’s next, dear Leigh? Are you working on a new album? If so, in which style will it be?
LW: I have recorded all of the music for the next Album. I’ve been working on it for a few months. I'm ready to go into the post production editorial and sequence stage with my friend Peter Blundell. We are starting this Week. We will listen to a few hours of recordings via my home analog tape studio - this music will be thrown up into the air and stuck back together again in all kinds of ways. Peter and I will cut and paste and layer and edit and sequence and goodness knows what.
I will go through my notebooks trying to make sense of it all. It's thematic again, but features one big difference to the previous records. This time I am telling stories and reciting poems and using words with musical accomplishments. It’s based on a collection of adventures. A funny bunch of characters. A sequence of images passing through the mind. A Dream. The style of music will be the same as always. Me freaking about on my Guitar, with hand percussion, piano, wind chimes and me blowing through a straw into a bowl of water.
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