Cereal blogger ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two young lads dress as Honey Monsters for a fancy-dress event in the late 1970s. You remember the Honey Monster, don't you? A gruff, (cuddly?) character dreamt up to advertise Sugar Puffs in the 1970s? Well, this is just one of the memories in a new collection of my photographs published today by Café Royal Books ..

To mark the launch of Eccles, Salford, Manchester 1970s-1980s I have a special offer to tell you about. I have a Limited Edition of just 40 of the books - which I will send with a 7x5 inch print of one of the images from the book - for just £20 each. (Plus P+P.) Email me here and pick a number between one and twenty-six. I'll send you the signed booklet and whichever image that corresponds with ..

I'm thrilled to be a part of the amazing CRB collection, joining such renowned photographers as Shirley Baker and Daniel Meadows and finally getting my work to a wider audience. Interesting, too, to have my work edited by a third party and see what they consider a workable set of images ..

And so, as the Honey Monster never said .. 'Tell 'em about the book, Martin'!

  

 

 

 

Keep your eyes peeled ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keep your eyes peeled, because a selection of my photographs is about to be published by Café Royal Books. Based in the north of England and run by a chap called Craig Atkinson, CRB is "an award-winning publisher of documentary photography, committed to producing high-quality, limited edition, affordable books." My little addition is entitled 'Eccles, Salford, Manchester 1970s 1980s' and I'm delighted it'll be seen in the company of some really great names in photography. To mark the occasion I'm offering a limited edition of forty of the books, available numbered, signed and with a 7"x5" ink-jet print of one of the images, for just £20 each (Plus that pesky P+P). There are 26 images in the book. Email your interest and pick a number between one and 26. I'll then print and sign whichever photograph that corresponds to in the book. A bit of lucky-dip for ya ..

See you in two months ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is the receipt for a camera I bought in 1975. When I was fourteen years old I was winked at by a beautiful Halina Paulette Electric, sitting in the window of Alan Halkyard's camera centre in Eccles. I fell in love, and then into debt. This baby would be my first step up to 35mm photography but she didn't come cheap. Paulette's price-tag was an outrageous twelve quid and there was no way I had that kind of money at such a tender age. So I part-exchanged my Kodak Instamatic and began to pay for the camera in instalments. A pound here, fifty pence there, it took me two months to get my sweaty teenage hands on that little beauty. I wonder what today's kids would make of that ..

News just in ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's a lot going on in the world at the moment. Elections in the UK and France, Putin chumming up with Kimmy, China ramping up its stockpiling of nuclear weapons, extreme weather conditions across the globe and .. wait, what's this .. there's a new book of photographs by Martin O'Neill? Now there's reason to be cheerful amongst all the global gloom and doom ..

I'm delighted to say I've been 'picked up' by Café Royal Books, the distinguished publisher of photography in the UK, and will have a collection of my pictures in one of their iconic photo-books from mid-July. I say 'delighted' because it means my work will now be available along with such renowned names as, among many others, Shirley Baker, Daniel Meadows and Chris Killip ..

It's the first time any of my work has been compiled by anyone other than myself, and fascinating to see what the editor considers to be an interesting selection from my archive. Perhaps you'll buy the book and let me know your thoughts? (It's called Eccles, Salford, Manchester 1970s-1980s, by the way, and I'll be offering a limited edition of signed copies of the book complete with a print of one of the photographs in the collection. Details to follow, as they say!) ..

And now, over to the sports desk ..

       

Father's Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's fifteen years since my Dad died, so the fact that today is Father's Day hadn't registered with me. No nipping to the shops for a last-minute greetings card, no stopping at the off-licence for bottles of Bell's and lemonade. But always the thoughts of him in my head. I don't need a 'day' to remember my old man, but I wish he was here so I could tell him ..

Branson's pickle ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I see in the 'paper that Richard Branson's Virgin Atlantic is celebrating its 40th birthday. Astonishing to think how quickly all that time has passed, as I well remember the launch and, indeed, won a trip to New York in one of the airline's early promotional competitions. (Took my Dad, caught the Greyhound to Niagara Falls and The White House. Great trip!) Astonishing to see it's still going too, albeit running at a loss, as I look at a picture I shot of Branson in '93. This was at the launch of one of his other projects, Virgin Radio 1215 am, and a quick Google tells me the station lasted until 2008, so it had a decent run before moving to the FM frequency where it's still going strong, although probably more so on the internet and DAB. The shot was taken outside Virgin Records Megastore on Manchester's Market Street, another icon that's long gone. (Records and CDs eh? How retro!) All we need now is a nice, low return fare on Star Trek's Teleporter and Branson'll be buggered for ever ..

Riding the Dirty Dog ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 1985 I caught a Greyhound Bus in Detroit and didn't get off until Los Angeles seven days later. Yes, I spent an entire week travelling across America on the lovingly-named 'dirty dog', and now I've published a collection of 80 photographs from the trip, all shot on Kodachrome 64 colour transparency film. Like all my other photo-books, it costs just ten squids, and is available here. But why did I put myself through such an ordeal? Ah well, you'll have to buy the book to find out ..

And another thing ..

 

 

 

 

I made a flying visit to the UK last week and dedicate today's blog to the lady who sat beside me on the Ryanair flight home. After the safety announcements were made (unintelligibly - as is the norm - by a twelve year old with a trout pout), she looked up at the panel storing the life vests and said to her friend "Brenda .. (names charged for f*cking obvious reasons), we don't go over water, do we?"..

Anyway,  over the water I am, and I bring disturbing news from the old country'. It seems .. oh God, I can hardly bare to type this .. it seems that the mullet is back. Yes, the worst hair-style on the planet, actively being sported by otherwise-sensible young men, usually with a dodgy caterpillar of a moustache, throwing me right back to Sydney, Australia in 1985. Still, they distracted me from the afore-mentioned trout pouts and thick, smeared-on eyebrows, and the constant vaping by everyone aged three years old and upwards ..

Meanwhile, I made a few more 'then and now' shots, including this pair from Manchester airport. The first is from the days when folk used to visit the terraces for an afternoon of plane-spotting, an activity that's long-since been forbidden, and the second is from the departure lounge, where a man that should know better sat with his feet on the seats and played a film with the sound turned up so that everyone around him could follow it ..

Oh, and I realised one other thing whilst I was away. I realised I've turned into my Dad!

 

  

Up the workers!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Instead of writing my blog this morning, I should have been half-way to catching a flight to Manchester. French air-traffic controllers have put paid to that, calling a strike which has left me and 49, 999 other Ryanair passengers in the lurch. Up the workers? Yeah, right up 'em, the bastards ..

The silver lining is that I'll be able to carry on weeding our ever-greening garden, which is practically bubbling with life as we move further into spring. And, of course, I get another excuse to dive into my archive, pulling out today a picture of a protest march outside Trafford Town Hall in 1979. 'Stop the cuts' cry the banners. I couldn't agree more. Those bolshy sods have made me miss one of my favourite punk bands .. 

(#Iwassupposedtobegoingtoseetheuksubs)

(#pissedoff)

(#getoverityoubigbaby)

 

Natural flare ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

The other day I did something I haven't done in a long time .. I bought a new lens. (Ok, it was second-hand, but my 300mm telephoto has needed replacing for ages.) And then, last night, I did something I have never done before. I photographed a solar flare! Back at the computer after pointing my 'new' lens at the sunset, my curiosity was aroused by an odd 'sticky-out bit' at the edge of the sun. For confirmation I sent the shot to a pal of mine, an astro-photographer who works with Herstmonceux Observatory in East Sussex. He muttered something scientific about Hydrogen Alpha and then said "Brilliant!" and sent me a big smiley face emoji. There's always talk of 'luck' in photography, and I certainly got my fair share last night. You could say I have a 'flare' for it!  

Fire, fire .. !

 

 

 

 

 

My Mum was on the 'phone the other day, telling me about a new building that's going up on her street. "I've been watching the teams of men working on it," she said. "All in hi-viz and big boots and helmets." I, in turn, told her about a French chap that's re-tiling the roof over the way, tippy-toeing across open roof beams as he works alone in shorts and trainers, with only a soggy Gaulois as counter-balance. I mention this because I've been thinking about 'Health and Safety', and how it seems to have gone crazy in the UK. Indeed, I remember one occasion when, needing to get a touch higher to photograph a group of people, I was forbidden to stand on an office chair because of the 'dangers' involved. Anyway, I've found some old negatives of a factory fire I photographed in the 1980s, and show them today to illustrate how it was in the 'old days', when H & S hadn't even been invented. I started my work with a long shot of the burning building, and ended up right next to the firemen as they entered a door to tackle the blaze. I'm amazed I was allowed to get so close. I'm even more gob-smacked that I was daft enough to be so reckless. Oh, the joys of youth ..

Timing's everything ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just in time, I present an image from my early days as a freelance photographer. It's the sort of thing I used to shoot every time the hour went forwards or back. I'd find some clocks, chuck in a tasty bird (I'm using the lingo of 1983 here!) and was practically guaranteed a twice-yearly publication in the newspapers. The clocks went forwards again yesterday of course and, with perfect timing, I found this negative in my archive, along with lots of others that I think might just turn into another of my 'Wrong Way Wround' books. All in good time .. 

 

 

 

Back then ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I thought I'd chuck in another 'double' photo today .. two pictures that I've placed together because of their similarities. I recently managed to look through more of my archive, and it's fascinating to see just how many famous people I met on the job. I even knew who most of them were! Not like today, when people are 'celebrities' just because they've been on some trivial late-night 'reality' show on Channel 193. People we sit down to watch on television as they .. sit down to watch television! Oh yes, the old days were definitely better. Things were simpler then, four channels to watch and shut-down at eleven o'clock. None of this .. sorry nurse? I have to take my tablets? Lead on ..

You're twistin' me melon, man ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To a certain generation, the word Manchester meant "The Haçienda" and if you mentioned the name they'd stick their tongue out and look at you like you were going to throw them an 'E'. The club was a major part of the city's landscape in the 1980s and 90s but, not being into the 'Madchester' scene, (You're twistin' me melon, man!) I only went there every now and again for a pint or to see a band. I remember my pal Chris ringing me up once and asking if I fancied going there to see 'some girl called Madonna'. "Never heard of her", I said, and we gave up the chance to see an up and coming Madge and probably went to stare at girls that were far above our pay-rate at Placemate 7 instead. I do remember going to see The Gun Club there, and The Eurythmics with Blondie's Clem Burke on drums, and having pints in the ever-so-unspacious 'Gay Traitor' bar down the stairs, but that's about it. Even despite the Joy Division connection, it just wasn't a place I bothered with ..

Nice though, to stumble upon a couple of transparencies I shot there when I was commissioned by the (now-defunct) Sabena Airlines in-flight magazine. Not many people on the dance floor so I'm guessing it was a wet Wednesday in March, but who's to say? Lovely memory, all the same ..

Tut tut, Martin ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joan Collins and her daughter Tara Newley, seen in two separate photo-shoots I did in the 90s, both of which resulted in a ticking off for your dear old blogger! Joan 'Superstar Goddess Wonderwoman Don't you know who I am?' was launching a new book and chastised me for "getting a little too close, darling." Then someone wrote into the newspaper berating me for "desecrating" graves after I'd posed Tara in a cemetery. I have learned my lesson and haven't gone near either of the ladies ever since .. 😂

The Boy who missed Next Year

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, my Lord! I woke this morning to the news that someone has actually bought a copy of the first book I wrote. 'The Boy who missed Next Year' is a children's adventure story that I put onto Amazon Kindle about six years ago, and which promptly disappeared down the long and echoing rabbit warren that is self-publishing. To say I'm surprised is an under-statement. (Delighted too, of course!) I'm just going to sit back now and wait for the royalties to pour in. I always knew it was a long slog, this book-writing mullarky ..

(Oh, and to get your own Kindle copy, just paste this bad boy into your browser .. https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?k=the+boy+who+missed+next+year&i=digital-text&crid=11TDAS8AG8B8R&sprefix=the+boy+who+missed+next+year%2Cdigital-text%2C72&ref=nb_sb_noss)

I'm confused ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My blog on Wednesday achieved 984 reads. Now how did it do that? I didn't even write a blog on Wednesday. The world of social media continues to bewilder me. I'm just really happy I don't need it to run a business anymore ..

I had a great day in Bournemouth last week, catching up with two old photographer pals from the Manchester Evening News. We talked of battered Nikon FMs, of rushing film back from football grounds and of The Bumblies - the nickname given to the ever-complaining darkroom staff at the MEN. Not a word about digital cameras. Nothing about online portfolios or having an Instagram 'presence'. Ah yes, life was so much simpler then. Although, without all that, you wouldn't be able to read this blog, would you? See, I told you I was confused ..

Ps: Today's picture is another blast from my past. Street 'entertainment' in Canton, China. Shot on film - on an Olympus XA - about fifteen years before I had a web-site on which to show it!!    

Forty-five years ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March 14 .. and it's now an unbelievable forty-five years since I took my pictures of Joy Division at Bowdon Vale Youth Club. After a dodgy start - nobody was interested in using the shots at the time - the photographs have now been used in magazines, books, exhibitions and, like the image I'm showing you today, on T-shirts. The band's music is as powerful as ever, and I'm so lucky to have seen the group three times. Rest in peace, Ian.

It's about time ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's a Leap Year today, so I thought I'd write about time. Specifically, the amount of time it's taking the good ol' NHS to see my 86 year old Mum, who broke her back in an accident almost two years ago. I waited with her in Accident & Emergency for thirteen hours and then, after being (very well) treated at Salford Royal Hospital, she was given an appointment to be seen by a specialist in April last year. That was cancelled at the last minute and she was given yesterday as her new appointment. That visit was cancelled with a phone call at 9.30 in the morning, and she now has to wait until next July to be seen. You can imagine how angry and disgusted I am at the moment. I'll spare you the **%$@^^^ words, but all I can say is I'm so glad I don't live in the UK anymore. The place has gone to the dogs ..

Speaking of dogs, today's photograph (Of a clock. See what I did, there?) is from the next of my photography books. Called 'Riding the dirty dog', it is a collection of photographs from a Greyhound Bus trip I took in 1985. I spent a whole week on various buses, trying to get to as many cities as I could in seven days. Why? Ah, you'll have to get the book .. 

Sievey/Sidebottom

 

 

 

 

 

Like a doddery grandad that won't shut up about the past, I'm following yesterday's musical memory with another 'date-in-the-diary' that I thought you'd like to know about. We're going back to February 28th, 1979, meaning it's forty-five years to the day since The Freshies played the youth club at Bowdon Vale. Does that name ring any bells? Yes, it's the same venue in which I photographed Fast Cars and then Joy Division just two weeks later. (Recognise the wallpaper?) Anyway, here's poor old Chris Sievey (right) giving it his all in an effort for world domination. He'd later become Frank Sidebottom, of course, gaining fame and no fortune with a papier-mâché head stuck on his shoulders. Following the gig, I asked the band if we could arrange a photo-shoot, then spent a fun-filled morning snapping them all around the streets of Sale. Sadly those photographs, like the band, got nowhere ..

Heaven knows I'm happy now ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's incredible to think that The Smiths  first LP came out forty years ago this month. February 20th, 1984. I was 23 years old. The band has been a part of almost two-thirds of my life. I'll never forget their arrival on 'the scene', via John Peel, inevitably. They got accused of being depressing, but I hadn't heard anything as exciting and fresh in a long time. Indeed, it didn't take me long before I wore a string of beads around my neck when I went out for a pint. (God, the memory!) The band had split by '87 and, of course, poor old Andy Rourke is dead, but their music goes on and on for me, despite Morrissey's best efforts to make me dislike him. Here's my copy of the record, replete with a photo-pass for their 1984 gig at Manchester's Free Trade Hall ..

Toilet humour ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Having a drink with a pal the other day, he mentioned that he frequently read my blog. What a surprise! "Oh yes," he said. "It often gives me a chortle in the toilet." I know my place ..

Ps: Today's shot is a Kodachrome of a toilet in Kenya, and is part of my forthcoming travel-photography book.

Read all about it ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's a TV programme called 'A new life in the sun', on which couples from the UK move to continental Europe to start new businesses. 'We love the slower pace of life," they gush. 'It's so quiet where we live." Well, how's this for a change in circumstances? I once used to work for one of the biggest regional evening newspapers in the country, and now I cycle around the countryside delivering our local village newsletter. From press photographer to paper-boy in one fell swoop ..

Eerie ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ploughing my way through a heap of old Kodachromes - the aim being to produce a travel-photography book - my curiosity was aroused when I came across this rather ordinary-looking picture of a Texaco petrol station. It was from 'somewhere' in America and slightly blurred as it was snatched through the window of a moving Greyhound bus during a trip in 1985. Why I was moved to press the shutter I'll never know, and I doubt the photo will even make the cut when it comes to compiling my book, but I spent a while removing dust and scratches from the image just in case ..

'I wonder where this was,' I thought, as I reminisced about the wonderful time I'd had on the trip. Major destinations I can obviously remember - Detroit, Houston, Los Angeles - but to get to those I had to pass through little places like this. And then I spotted a name. Jim Musolf. It says it below the Texaco sign on the front of the building. I googled the name and there, from a post by the Hendersonville Times-News in 2012 was his obituary. Born in 1921, married for 62 years, a WW11 veteran and an ardent volunteer worker who retired and moved to North Carolina in 1985. And then my answer .. Erie, Pennsylvania .. the town in which he was born and where he returned from fighting in the Pacific to open up his own Texaco station. God, I love photography! God, I love the internet. Rest in peace, Jim ..

Eerie! 

Goodbye, old friend ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Under the optimistic title 'Brighter days ahead', I put this photograph on Instagram yesterday morning. It shows the rising sun shining through a wild old plum tree twixt our garden and next-door's. For each of the seven years we've lived here, the tree's early blossom has heralded the arrival of Spring and, already, its newly-forming buds have given its branches a happy red tint on a grey February morning. In March, as if by magic, its gorgeous pink flowers positively tingle with the sound of thousands of bees enjoying a welcome snack. I've planted Giant Snowdrops by its foot, its shade providing the perfect environment for them to flourish and, in summer, twittering sparrows flit noisily between its branches and the eaves of our house ..

Yesterday afternoon our neighbour chopped down the tree.

"It's dead," he said, over the roar of his chain-saw. (He's still hacking at the tree's murdered limbs as I write.) "It'll fall and cause damage." I wish it had fallen on him. (Alright, I know it was his to do with what he wanted, but allow me my five minutes of fury!)

Goodbye, dear tree. We'll miss you ..     

The Royal Wee ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You're in good shape," said my doctor on Monday. "For a man of your age!" Oh, why did she have to add that second sentence? I was in to talk about my sore elbow. (Tendonitis). And my painful knee. (Gonarthritis). And my prostate. (Age!)

"Nice to know I'm in good company," I've often said to Lesley, referencing Charles the HRH. "But how the hell did he stop himself peeing during the coronation?" It's a question that intrigues me, seeing as I can't listen to one whole side of an LP without pausing for a bloody piddle these days. And all my friends know not to include me in any conversations, because I won't be sitting with them long enough to contribute. (Joke!) It was becoming a bit of an embarrassment though, until the doctor told me that, actually, I did have a real medical problem and not just a ludicrously teeny bladder. Oh, what a relief (so to speak) and so tablets it is and let's see if we can't shift the problem once and for all ..

A pal of mine is still recovering from prostate cancer and, now that he's on the right side of it, I know he'll allow me the pleasure I feel knowing I've not got the same problem. An enlarged prostate is an inconvenience, not a life-threatener. Apparently, we men don't speak about these things, so it's interesting to note that, by doing just that (try stopping me!) I've already encouraged another pal with similar symptoms to consider he may have a prostate problem ..

Old age is a privilege denied to many. That was written on one of those faux-wooden plaques behind the bar of a pub I used to frequent with my Dad. I was eighteen then, and I'm going to be 64 this August. Time is starting to make itself felt, and there ain't a thing I can do about it. Today though, a lady we know is being cremated. Heart attack. Sixty-four. Old age, denied. Certainly puts a dribbly willy in its place, don't ya think?    

 

Jumping for joy ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

So many good things happened at the weekend (and I don't just mean in the FA cup!) that I'm surprised I can get my head through the door this morning ..

Out of the blue, I received a message on Facebook saying "I'm LOVING seeing your work, absolutely fantastic. So inspiring .." and then an email came in saying "I always enjoy your bloggy ramblings." (Here's the next one, Simon!) As if that wasn't enough, I was contacted by a Scottish chap who's started reading my first book 'Page 99, by Joe Bancroft', having been sent it by a friend who'd read it on the Gold Coast in Australia. From Brisbane to John o' Groats, no less ..

Speaking of long journeys, today's photograph is one of the Kodachrome slides I've scanned as I move towards making a new travel-photography book. Can't wait to announce its launch ..

 

 

Calm down ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

January 23rd and it's 85 degrees in the shade. At least it was, on Miami Beach, back in 1997. This shot came to light as I delved into more of my Kodachrome slides, with the aim of adding a travel photography title to my collection of photography books.

As I write, Storm Jocelyn is hurtling its way towards the UK, mere minutes (it would appear) since the country was battered by Storm Isha, the tenth named storm this season. It seems to me the UK is actually living under one constant storm, so might it just be simpler to name the calm periods in between instead? You know, the quieter moments between all the wind and rain? Calm Albert, anybody? Calm Betty, Calm Charles, Calm Dave? Just a thought. Back to my Kodachrome ..  

Muscling in ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I thought I'd muscle in on the fact that Gladiators is back on UK television tonight. The news had me diving into my archive for pictures of two of the 'originals', who I photographed for PR companies back in the 1990s ..

Wolf, at the top, was opening a ride at Staffordshire's Alton Towers Theme Park, and Rhino was promoting .. er, something to do with very strong cable ties! They're called Michael and Mark in 'real life' ..

It was on this day ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've never been good at football photography, so it's no surprise that I only have one stand-out memory of ever covering the 'beautiful game'. When I was eighteen years old, just three months into my first ever job as a press photographer, I was sent down to London's White Hart Lane to photograph Altrincham v Spurs in the third round of the FA Cup. The date was January 10th, 1979. Forty-five years ago today. It was cold and my camera gear was basic, but I managed to (very nearly) catch the goal that earnt Altrincham a one-all draw and a lucrative replay at their Moss Lane ground. After the match, I headed for the changing rooms and took this lovely shot of goal-scorer Jeff Johnson enjoying his 15 minutes of fame. I achieved a little fame myself when my photographs appeared in the Manchester Evening News the following day. My boss had 'borrowed' my photographs and sold them to our rival. I think he gave me twenty-five quid for my efforts ..  

Blow your own tuba ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's this bloke in Switzerland - let's call him Adam, English bloke, been there for years. Anyway, he goes and orders all seven of the books in my photo series, doesn't he? Sort of a Christmas present to himself. So I sent him a message, asking what he thought, and he sent back this ..

"Just finished all your books. I can now pronounce you officially as the L.S.Lowry of Salford and environs of the 1970s and ‘80s. Really enjoyed them. (PS - I’m a great fan of Lowry)."

Which made me rather happy, and so I thought I'd share it with you, just to let you know what you're missing ..

 

 

Time to face the New Year ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 It's time to face the New Year and, if I have one resolution, it is to read more, as was the plan when we moved to France. I'd spend afternoons - I imagined - in the sun (or by the woodburner!) making my leisurely way through heaps and heaps of books, catching up on titles I'd not yet read and re-reading some of my favourites from the past. Fat chance! I never seem to get a chance. There's always something to do, even if it's something as pointless as writing a blog that gets seen by seven people ..  

In with the new ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On New Year's Eve, in days gone by, there'd only be one thing on my mind as I drove into work that morning. Was it a revue of the year just gone? Or my resolutions for the next? Hell no, I'd be wondering where I was going to be when the clock struck twelve. At home, alone? (Sod that!) In a Manchester nightclub, for which I'd have had to buy a ticket at some outrageous mark-up and spend a fortune on a taxi home (if I could find one)? Or at a house party in some far-flung corner of either Manchester or Warrington, almost impossible to reach as the night buses went onto limited service?..

Well, nine times out of ten it would have been the house-party. The journalists I worked with were always good at throwing a bash, and so a night in a crowded pub and a race back in time to bring in the New Year was my general mode of celebration. They must have been good nights, because I can't remember any of them. All I know is that I'd get home about ten the next morning and, in what became a tradition, throw U2's 'New Year's Day' on my turntable as the first record of the year. Forty years on, I think I'll just play the record! I hope you have a great night, and I'll catch you in the new year ..

Stars on 45 ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't pay much attention to the pop charts anymore. Haven't for years, not with all the bloody rubbish they call music these days (© My Dad 1977). But when I was a lad I followed like a hawk the competition to be the Christmas Number One. Remember those days? When everyone from Cliff Richard to The Damned squeezed out a Christmas single. I for one bought many of their offerings, right from Slade's 'Merry Christmas Everybody' in 1973 (And I'll confess to owning Steeleye Span's 'Gaudete' and Elton John's 'Cold as Christmas in the middle of July'). But, with a week to go until the Big Day, it's time to pull out my four real favourites, the singles I put on the turntable every year. And Number One this Christmas? Kate Bush's 'December will be magic again'. It's magic! Click here to hear it. It's beautiful. You're welcome ..

Well, that's nice ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was ego-boost on toast for breakfast this morning, as another review came in for my book 'Page 99, by Joe Bancroft'. An unsolicited testimonial as they say and, seeing as this blog is all about me, darlings, I'm going to print it in full ..

"Thank you Martin O'Neill, for the laughter, tears and moments of nostalgia from my era. Music and cars! What an enjoyable read. Really recommend Page 99."

So now, all you have to do is order a copy too! Click here and let me know what you think ..

 

Buy, buy, buy ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In keeping with the true spirit of Christmas - ie: blatant and unabashed commercialism - my picture today is a graph from my Amazon account, showing my book sales for the month of December. I'm so delighted the month's off to such a great start. There's obviously a lot of Christmas shopping going on out there. My only question is this .. where is 'other'? If you're from 'other' can you please let me know ..

Ps: You want the links to the books? Certainly! My photo-books are here, and my illustrated children's books are here and here. 'Page 99, by Joe Bancroft' is here, 'Snaps' is here and 'Tofalofalos' is here. 

And that's the end of the commercial break ..

Goodbye, Denny ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Denny Laine must be the most famous man I'd never heard of. I think I owned a Wings LP but was certainly never into the Moody Blues, so when I was commissioned to take some portraits of him I had to ask around to find out who he was. He died today, and I immediately thought back to that 90's photo-shoot ..

Ok! Magazine asked me meet him at some swanky pad up in Lancashire. This was back in the days of colour transparency film, shot on a Mamiya RZ67, and it was just me, him and a guitar. We had fun, as you can see, and I got a lovely spread in the magazine a few weeks later. Rest in peace, Denny, and thank you for some lovely photographs. But Mull of Kintyre? I can't forgive you for that one. Sorry ..

Goodbye, Elliott ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I was fifteen years old, I borrowed a book from our school library .. and never gave it back! The book was 'Photographs and Anti-photographs', by a photographer called Elliott Erwitt, and he became the first major influence in my blossoming life as a photographer. The humour in his work was something I'd never considered before, and I've loved his work from that day to this. I couldn't believe it when, in 2006, I actually got to meet him in the flesh. He was giving a talk in Bradford, at what used to be known as the National Museum of Photography, Film and Television, and I should have actually still been in Seattle on the day, but cut short my trip to fly back and listen to it. Imagine my delight when, arriving at the museum, Elliott pulled up in a taxi at almost the same moment and shook my hand. "Where do I go?" he asked, thinking I was a member of staff waiting to greet him. "Ah no," I stuttered, "I'm just a fan. In fact, could you sign this, please?" I handed him my copy of his book and he broke into a smile as he took it. "Oh my," he said. "I haven't seen this for a while." He signed a page, posed for our 'selfie' and went off to give his talk ..

Today, he died, after ninety-five years on the planet. A 'good innings', as they say, and I like to think he called it a day with that wry smile still upon his face. So goodbye, Elliott, and thank you. It's true to say you steered the whole direction of my photography ..

I just hope my school doesn't want the book back ..

Any preference ..?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've been to a couple of good photography exhibitions lately, and have it on good authority that the photographer involved in one of them shot over 20,000 rolls of film! Like OMG, it's no wonder he ended up with enough shots to fill a gallery ..

I very rarely shot more than one image of any of my shots. They really were 'one-offs' in the best sense of the word. But, looking back through my negatives, I see that, now and again, I did shoot more than one image at a scene. Today's photographs are an example. Doddington Lane, in Salford, circa 1978. Two versions, and I can't decide which I like better. Any preference ..?

Ho ho ho ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas comes but once a year, and when it does it seems to arrive earlier and earlier every time. Our supermarkets have been full of chocolate, toys and whiskey since about the third of September and, as today's photo shows, I'm starting to see decorated houses when I'm out and about on my bike. Now, an internet radio station that I tune in to has started to play only Christmas songs .. 

So, since you ask, I'll tell you what I want for Christmas. I want people to buy my books and for a major gallery to stage a massive retrospective of my work. Thank God then, that I've got Bill Jay to put things into perspective. (Bill was a renowned writer on photography and his books are always worth getting stuck into if you've any interest in the subject). He said "Photographers have enough to worry about, like calculating the odds (about the same as being struck by lightning whilst accepting the cheque from a major lottery win) of ever receiving a major museum exhibition, or any other national recognition for their work."

So it looks like socks and a woolly scarf again this year ..

 

For the record ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm showing you a photograph of my 1978 'music-centre' as a way of illustrating today's story. One of my fave ways of playing records has always been via 'Lucky Dip', whereupon I close my eyes and pull a random LP from my collection. I then have to play it, even if only for a minute or two, as it's a great way to rediscover long-lost music. The record chosen yesterday was 'Spring Session M' by LA band Missing Persons, which came out in 1982 and features the delightfully named Dale Bozzio as lead singer. (Zappa fans may recognise the name, as she sang on his 'Joe's Garage' records in 1979). Anyway, I enjoyed the music so much I went online to see if they'd done anything else. Reader, their first release in 35 years came out .. yesterday!

And now I'm off to buy a lottery ticket ..

 

Wednesday 14th March 1979

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've found an old diary. I am 18 years old and just five months into my new life as a press photographer. The date is Wednesday 14th March 1979 ..

We can see that I had a driving lesson at 2pm and worked from 9.30 to 5.30. (As an aside, I wrote recently about the flexibility of press photography and look at this .. I had to keep a record of my own working hours! I see I worked 54 hours that week and claimed expenses for three dinners and two teas!) I recorded the fact that I bought a new note-book (I could claim for them on expenses, too) and reminded myself to ask Gill about the band Squeeze (I presume we went to see them!) I also made a note to phone Chris Sievey and Steve Murray. Chris was lead singer of The Freshies, who I'd photographed at Bowdon Vale Youth Club on February 28th. I remember we arranged a photo-shoot and spent a fun few hours mucking about around Sale. (Chris went on to become Frank Sidebottom). Steve Murray was lead singer with The Fast Cars, who played the same venue on March 7th, and he and the band are still going strong to this day ..

There's another entry, too. Joy Division at St. Luke's. I've no idea why I wrote St. Luke's instead of Bowdon Vale - perhaps there was a church youth group associated with the club - but I certainly know what happened after that .. 

And we're off ..

 

 

 

 

Lovely to have pictures on walls again, even if it is only in our local library. My exhibition 'Martin de Manchester' opened on Friday night and will last for three months. Rather amusingly, it was visited yesterday by a journalist for one of the daily newspapers around here. He had a quick gander at the work, photographed a little introduction I'd written up then took four shots of me. A quick scribble in the visitors' book and he was gone. No questions, no chat, nothing! I can't wait to see the article ..

Of course, a lot of you won't be able to get to see the show, but don't worry! You can always get hold of any of the six books I've now self-published on Amazon. A tenner each, and full of wonderful pictures from the late 70s and early 80s. Order here or start dropping hints for Christmas ..

Here comes the sun!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's only one antidote to all the rain this autumn. Sunshine! Sunshine and a funky post-punk energy-burst from those cheeky throb-merchants Department S. (You remember Department S don't you? Is Vic there? their unique machine-gun twanger from 1981?) Well they're back, and so are glowing sunlit skies and the fireball of heat and happiness that already seems a distant memory now we're in November. Four of my photographs have been used as the covers of the new Department S singles - yes, actual vinyl! - being launched soon by my good friend Phil Thompson (Lead guitarist, lead vocals, song-writer and self-styled "hardest working man in post-punk", who can also be found playing in The Rezillos - Top of the Pops - and The Vapors - Turning Japanese .. )

Anyway, the records - and much more - are available here .. 

Bet that's warmed you up ..

 

One in, one out ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today I took down some photographs of mine that have been on display in our library all summer. And then I put up some more that'll be there until the end of January. I have to say, it made me feel very special. I've never replaced one exhibition with another before! And even though we're only talking about our little local bibliothèque, I think it's wonderful that they've invited me to have another show ..

The summer offering was 'Florescence', a collection of my flower photographs. Bright colours filled the walls for months. By contrast, my next showing 'Martin de Manchester' is a collection of my black and white street photography from the late 70s and early 80s. There's an opening event tomorrow evening and then it's open to the public from Saturday. I hope you can get down to see it ..

 

As it happens ..

 

 

 

 

 

I know we all think we have 'the best job in the world', but I think you're pretty damned close to it with press photography. The variety and opportunity, the complete lack of routine, the travel, the celebrities. I knew I had it made when, on my first day as a professional snapper, I had to photograph the captain of Manchester United. The captain! Oh yes, it doesn't get better than that ..

And the point being? Well, there is no point, actually. I just needed a bit of pre-amble to allow me to show you today's photographs. A lot of you may have seen the new TV programme 'The Reckoning', featuring comedian Steve Coogan as Jimmy Savile. In my role as a press photographer I got to photograph them both (regardless of what happened later!)

Told you it was a good job. Just saying ..

In the market ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hi there," read an email this week. "I've bought one of your photo-books, as I want to do one of my own. I wondered if you could give me any advice about marketing?" I did one of those comic 'double-takes', my neck whipping round swiftly to see who else could be in the room. Me? I thought. He's asking me for marketing advice? I'm sorry, I replied, I think you're asking the wrong person ..

Truth is, for all my puffing and panting, my blogging and tweeting (Xing?), my Instagraming and Facebooking, my radio interview, my article in Amateur Photographer magazine and even  .. yes, physically taking the books around to photography galleries in London and Liverpool .. I've managed to sell a grand total of one book in October. And now I've just realised .. it was to him, wasn't it .. ?

Ah well, Christmas is coming. Hint, hint ..

Are you there, Iggy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's only one thing to do when the weather's as bad as it is. You dive into your big box of old negatives and see if you've missed that one great shot that's going to make you famous .. 

Well, I haven't found that (yet) but I've found this, among others, and haven't the foggiest idea when I took it. I don't know who the guys are, why they were putting on make-up or the location of that salubrious toilet. And I probably never will, unless the Iggy Pop lookalike suddenly recognises himself from this blog and lets me know. The amazing thing about human memory, though, is that, if 'Iggy' were to make himself known again, I might well then recall the circumstances of this photograph. The 'who' and the 'why' and the 'where' might still be stuck in that mass of wobbly jelly in my bonce, and I might be able to pull out the detail and recall the occasion. In the meantime, thank God for photography, eh? Are you out there, Iggy? Are ya?..

 

Salt and vinegar?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of my favourite images is this daft old sign, which I photographed in the window of a chip shop in Eccles back in the 1970s. (I even have a copy of it on my wall). Back in my home town again last week, I popped out for fish, chips and mushy peas (obligatory!) and, although quite reasonable by today's standards, the cost was £6.90. I allowed myself a wry smile as I thought back to 1977, when the cost of the same tasty nosh (wrapped in newspaper, of course) would have set me back sixty pence!..

An awful lot of other things have changed since I was growing up back then - lots of the buildings are gone or converted to other uses (A bank into a sun-bed salon, for example!); much of the town is behind steel rollers or wooden hoarding, the businesses inside long gone, and charity and vape shops abound. It was all very sad, albeit with a glimmer of hope as the precinct is set to be demolished and re-built, introducing a 'better' class of shop and a new vitality to a dead old town. I can only hope ..

Now then, salt and vinegar? Yes, please. Plenty ..

 

  

Cheese!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The latest edition to my photo-book series - Book Seven - is called Cheese! and will feature even more of my archive photographs from the late 1970s and early 80s. I'm working hard on production and it will be available to buy on Amazon in just a few short weeks. I'm proud to say that this edition will take the number of published photographs to well over 500. And all for a tenner a book. If that doesn't make you smile then nothing will. Say Cheese!