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!  

A smile on my face

 

 

 

 

 

 

I watched the film 'Sideways' again last night. Great film, and fantastic acting .. with a novelist who can't generate any interest in his new book. Man, can I relate to that! My own story 'Page 99, by Joe Bancroft', is currently wallowing at  2,211th in Amazon's Biographical Fiction list (But at least it's in there, right?), and I've run out of ideas as to how to promote it. (Well, apart from writing this, of course!) Still, at least I've had a new review today. A reader described it as "a really imaginative, funny, enjoyable read", and that's truly put a smile on my face ..

Sorry mate, no trainers ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

"That's Tommy Tarbuck," said Lesley, browsing through the latest of my photo-books. I'm sorry? "That's Tommy Tarbuck," she said again, and pointed to the fag-dragging bouncer in my photograph. "He was the doorman at the disco I used to go to" ..

Well how interesting, 'cos here he is, manning the entrance to the hall of the Salford Students' Union, just outside of Manchester. He must have been a jobbing bouncer, if there ever was such a thing. Did anyone else know Tommy? Is he still around? Did anyone ever get 'bounced' by him? (He does look as if he'd not stand for nonsense!) I'd love to know. And I'd love to know if anyone recognises anyone else in my books. You can check them out here, and contact me here if you happen to know anybody. Now, on your way, mate, 'cos you're not coming in here wearing those trainers ..

Magic numbers

 

 

 

 

 

 

Six books. Four hundred and twenty three photographs. Seventy pence a shot. That's what it would work out to if you bought my full collection of photo-books. And you'd have the shots forever. What a bargain! Fortunately, somebody else thinks the same, and has just ordered the full collection. If you're reading this, I'd love it if you got in touch ..

Today's image is one that will appear in book seven, now in production. Eccles library, circa 1981 ..  

James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's my brother's birthday today. Sadly, he was found dead in his flat on Sunday and this cheeky, angry, troubled little scamp will never see 57. 

This one's for you, Jimbo. Rest in peace, little brother ..

Barking up the wrong tree ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today saw my annual pilgrimage to a Photo Festival in a small place called Barro (BarrObjectif 2023). The outdoor event features the work of photo-journalists and photographers from all over the world (but mainly France!) Twice now, I've submitted work for consideration, without success. Whilst I was there, looking at shots of war and Covid and trans-gender er .. people, I received an email from Salford Art Gallery saying my recent submission to them had been rejected. (Talk about exquisite timing!) Seems I can't get anyone interested in my work. Perhaps I'm barking up the wrong tree ..

Write on ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I told you I could write! (Welcome to Blog #476 in the series 'O'Neill blows his own trumpet'!) I've just come runner-up in a local writing contest. My essay 'You move me' has taken second place in a local magazine's 800-word short-story competition and a judge told me it was "a very close-run thing." Read it here if you really must and, of course, my real writing is still out there for all to enjoy ..

My picture today shows a 'real' writer, Salford's very own John Cooper Clarke, who is signing the copy of his book that I still have. I wonder if anyone will still own one of my books in forty years time ..  

Stop press: I just dug out my copy of this book, and I think the clues are in the title .. John Cooper Clarke Directory 1979. It was forty FOUR years ago!! OMG ..

 

 

My cap is doffed ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The keen-eyed amongst you may have noticed I've been trying to plug some of my photography books. (I hope I'm not getting boring, but they really are a big thing in my life at the moment.) There are currently six photo-books in my 'Wrong Way Wround' series, featuring archive photographs from the 1970s and 80s, and that number is certain to rise ..

The photography world likes 'themes'. It wants photographers to have worked on a 'project', explored a concept, visually probed something that is new to them. (Even if that's just empty spaces in car-parks!) It gives the photographer a weight, a seriousness, makes them 'legitimate'. My work is none of that .. it's just me, wandering around with my camera, 'learning' how to be a photographer. Doesn't make the work any less interesting though (in my humble opinion), so it was encouraging to read a new review of the photographs by renowned Salford historian Tony Flynn. He said "I can honestly say they are poignant, hilarious, touching and even a great social document that captures what was a less stressful time", and added "Martin O'Neill you have done a fantastic job capturing those days. My cap is doffed." 

There's nothing left to add other than a link to help you buy your copies ..

You're in my seat ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the 'then and now' shots I took during my UK trip was this one at the corner of Liverpool Road and Alexandra Road in Eccles, where I photographed my Dad over forty-five years ago. I put my shadow into the spot he'd have been standing, just to connect ..

I also went into The Grapes, the pub that was my Dad's 'local' for many a year. It's been done up with a nice bit of leather upholstery now, but this was his seat when he wasn't in the 'snug' with his mates. I can still see him sitting there, half a Guinness and a whiskey and lemonade on either side of an overflowing ash-tray. (Nice) ..

Writing this, it occurs to me that forty-five was also my Dad's age in this shot. (People looked a lot older in 'those days', didn't they?) He was a hard-working, hard-drinking Irishman and you'll have read many times in this blog how much I thought of him. Incidentally, there's a character quite like my Dad in a book I wrote .. 'Page 99, by Joe Bancroft'. Gives a little insight into the pre-mobile phone world of a man that finds himself alone after years of happy marriage .. 

  

Good to be back?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had a quick flit back to the UK last week and the thing that struck me most was the astonishing amount of litter on the streets. Perhaps it's always been like that, and I only notice it because I live in such a quiet backwater these days but, my God, it's everywhere! I went to Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool and Warrington and, in every place, the amount of litter was eye-watering. It made me sad, folks. Where is the pride, the respect ..?

At least I got back to Eccles and had a chance to walk down 'memory lane', returning to the site of some of my archive shots from the 1970s and 80s. Funny to see how much has changed, yet how much had stayed the same. Click on any of the shots to see more, and check out the difference in petrol prices ..  

 

Who d'ya think you are, David Bailey ..?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have in my hands a hard copy of the sixth book in my photography series. Yes, Book Six has arrived, and I'm very excited ..

Its title harks back to an old 1970's advert featuring the superstar photographer and an Olympus Trip. People would shout it to me whenever I took their photograph. "Hey mate, who d'ya think you are, David Bailey ..?" ..

Anyway, it's here, it's finished, and it's available for you to buy here for just ten squids. Yes, I know .. such a great price for ninety-one wonderful street photography images from the 70s and 80s. How can you resist?

Cold water

 

 

 

 

 

 

The heatwave is back and it's going to be another hot one today. Thirty-eight degrees is the forecast. (That's 100° if you're an American or my Mum!) The garden is fried, as am I from trying to keep it watered. On Saturday night I was at an event two hours from here and it hammered down. Here? Not a drop. When will it end? I've had enough of summer now. I yearn for cooler evenings and crisp autumn walks, woolly scarves and seeing my breath condense in a cloud ..

In the meantime, it's another day of hunkering down and doing not a lot. Little Lisa had the right idea .. a bath of cold water and an ice-lolly. Mind you, this shot was (probably) taken in 1977, and 'little' Lisa will now be in her fifties. Sadly, I'd have to think twice about taking a photograph like this today. The 'right-ons' have poured cold water on good old innocent street photography ..