Sitting in my tiny bedroom at 98 Combe Avenue in 1972 i picked up a guitar and my notepad and wrote some songs. This is one of them. It was inspired by David Bowie who i had just seen play up the road at Eltham Collage. You could say i was inspired. Home was quite, my Mother would have been downstairs sipping a small Brandy while Dad was at work. There was food on the table and my teenage self was on the look out of an escape route to another World. Outside my bedroom window the council estate where i learnt how to dance, fight, drink and take drugs. I smoked fags out of that window and dreamt of being in love, but first i had to learn to play guitar and write some songs for myself. With the help of Bob, who lived a few doors down, we recorded 13 songs onto a valve tape recorder. Many years later in 2005 Bob turned up at one of my solo shows and gave me the tapes in a plastic bag, i had not heard them in all that time. I was shocked and very grateful. Yesterday i listened to Bowie’s music for 6 hours and lit a candle in my study, i reflected and zoned out of my day. I cried for the passing of time and the youth that has passed with it. Flicking through my i tunes playlists on my laptop i fell upon this recording, and hearing it i can clearly make out the passion i must of had, and the love for David Bowies work. Im thankful for the reconnection with my teenage self, alone on a single bed on a council estate in South East London in 1972, all i wanted was an escape route. I found it by listening to music and dedicating myself to the lyrical side of my imagination. The rest as they say is Geography.