Just finished reading ‘Some People Are Crazy: The John Martyn Story’, a biography by John Neil Munro. According to one reviewer, ‘Munro does a good of job of weaving together the twin threads of Martyn’s remarkable musical career and the old rock-and-roll cliché of his self-destructive personal life. The book’s great strength is that he has access to many of the key sources: not just Martyn himself but musical collaborators – and great musicians in their own right – such as Ralph McTell, Dave Pegg and the incomparable Danny Thompson.’
All that’s true. I read the book over the weekend, mostly on the train to and back from London, and it certainly helped the time pass quickly. I was also delighted to get a brief mention at the end of the book where his early gigs in London folk clubs are listed. Many of the venues he played in, the Folk Barge (Kingston upon Thames), Cousins and Bunjies (Soho), Ewell Folk Club (which I MCd), Richmond Hanging Lamp Club, Putney Half Moon, Troubadour, Teddington New Anglers (which I also MCd briefly) and lots more around the area were ones I also played in. It was an exciting time when singer-songwriters were really on the up and many acoustic performers, like Paul Simon, Cat Stevens, Elvis Costello, etc, were to became famous.
At the time I was going under the name Steve Baker (embarrassingly I even tried out Steve Candy for a while). Obviously I was not in John Martyn’s league as a guitar player but he was a nice friendly guy then (not always later on according to many accounts) and very approachable. However, in 1968 I got out of the scene – sold my guitar, put my song books in the fire (really) and sought pastures new. I didn’t have half his talent, never mind stamina or capacity for drink and drugs. Of course, that was not the end and I’ve continued in music in other ways.
The last time I saw him was around the mid Eighties, playing at a riverside Art Centre venue in West London. The crowd loved him and, musically, he was very good. However it only confirmed my feeling that I made the right decision to get out while I could and become a teacher. The book only reinforced this. Had I continued in the music business back then it’d undoubtedly have ended badly (I’d be prematurely dead like him). Martyn may say he had no regrets but I don’t believe it – just look at the difference between his young and older self. He may have been a tremendous musician but he hammered his mind and body, as well as testing many of the friends and especially women in his life.
