SIXTY-EIGHT

Left, Right And Centre (Single by Dean Parrish, Written by Paul Weller, Acid Jazz Records, 2006)

Paul and the Future

CRADOCK, STEPHEN, BORN Birmingham, educated Birmingham, guitarist of some repute. When he was growing up, The Jam were Cradock’s band. As they did for many like him, working class and music-obsessed, The Jam’s acute observational songs about British life hit Cradock in the heart and solar plexus. At seventeen, he was in a band called The Boys. The name was a nod to Weller. In 1978, Weller placed a Boys sticker on the Rickenbacker guitar depicted on the inside cover of the Jam album All Mod Cons.

The Boys failed, and several years later another band, Ocean Colour Scene, was formed. Cradock’s father Chris, a policeman who couldn’t circumvent the freemasons who surrounded him, threw in his badge and began to manage the band. They started to get a name for themselves, and the whispers reached Paul. He took them on tour early in the 1990s, and Cradock was in his element, even more so when Weller asked him to join his band on a part-time basis.

It was a good move. Musically, Cradock understood Paul precisely. He is also a naturally ebullient character, contagious with his energy and smiles, a good contrast to Paul’s moodiness. Cradock and Weller liked each other plenty. They emerged from the same culture of music and clothes, scooters and good shoes. Respect existed between the two. Cradock has played on every solo Weller album since Wild Wood; Weller has played many times with Ocean Colour Scene. They drew close, as musicians and as friends. They hung out together, visited each other’s homes.

When Steve’s first child was born, Weller visited him in Birmingham and wetted the baby’s head – a little too enthusiastically. Paul came to in Cradock’s toilet. They spoke endlessly about co-writing a song. Finally, they went down to Paul’s studio in Ripley to see if such a pairing was possible. They ended up allegedly crashed out on Ripley high street at three in the morning, so gone that cars had to swerve around them. Ann Weller rescued them both from the local police.

‘Get them home, Ann,’ the copper said. ‘We wouldn’t want this in the papers.’

Cradock would hear no word said against Paul. He defended him fiercely, no matter what. Paul could burn down London and Cradock would make the excuse.

Two years ago, a Jam bootleg surfaced containing recordings from their very early days. One of the songs was a Weller original entitled Left, Right And Centre, recorded in 1976. In musical terms it is a Northern Soul stomper, meaning that a straight-ahead beat drives it forward. The vocal line is catchy, the love lyrics perfunctory, as would befit a seventeen-year-old, and the title is an early indication of Paul’s penchant for seizing on familiar phrases.

Cradock contacted the DJ Russ Winstanley and he in turn put him in touch with the singer Dean Parrish. Rick Blackman from Acid Jazz also had the same idea. Parrish is famous in soul circles for a song entitled I’m On My Way, a record that was played last every week at the famous Wigan casino. Parrish came to Britain and the tune was recorded, and released by Acid Jazz Records. It was one of two singles that were released in 2006 with Paul as the songwriter. Wild Blue Yonder was the other, but the less said about that song the better.

It would be easy, so easy, to make use of the fact that the best single Paul Weller released in 2006 was a song he wrote over thirty years ago. That fact might lead us to draw the conclusion that his powers have faded. I think not. In a thirty-year-old career, Weller has proved the world wrong time and time again, so betting against him is a risky option.

Perhaps we should leave the last word to the man whose view on the matter is now plain and clear. ‘It’s not a matter of me giving up music,’ he recently told the TV cameras, ‘it’s music giving up on me.’