In a galaxy far, far away ... some thoughts on 'A Time For Justice', my very first Henry Christie novel.
It was written when mobile phones were very rare, when cops perched on
desks with phones to their ears, waiting for faxes to arrive and when
laptops were still something you got in sleazy clubs. Re-reading it in
order to get it into some sort of shape for an e-book, I was pleased at
how good it was, with various storylines
interweaving, lots of sex, violence and swearing ... mmm ... and a lot
of action and some great set pieces.
It does have its flaws, yes,
but overall I am still very proud of it and it does stand the test of
time, and going back to see how cops operated without mobiles stuck to
their ears was quite enlightening - and a hell of a lot of fun!
About Me
- Nick Oldham
- Born in April 1956 in what was then the tiny village of Belthorn, actually in 65 Belthorn Road (mums were very hardy in those days),up on the moors high above Blackburn, Lancashire, Nick is the well-reviewed author of the highly regarded series of crime novels featuring DCI Henry Christie, such as Nightmare City, Dead Heat, Psycho Alley, Seizure and Critical Threat. After a depressing year in a bank after leaving college, Nick joined Lancashire Constabulary at the age of 19 and served in many operational postings around the county before retiring in 2005.
Monday 21 May 2012
Friday 11 May 2012
The Rolling Stones - Thick 'n'Thin, Thru 'n' Thru
Rather like Henry Christie, the main character in my series of 18 crime novels, I am a thru and thru, died in the wool, Rolling Stones fan.
My association with them began circa 1965 - I was nine at the time - and I still remember the grainy TV images of the check-shirted Jagger miming badly to 'Get Off Of My Cloud' on Top of the Pops. Truly mesmerising, even then.
That said, although their music was fairly regularly heard in the household, it wasn't really until that fateful day in April 1971 when I tuned into TOTP to watch a pink suited Jagger, leering knowingly at the camera, strutting and punching out the lyrics to 'Brown Sugar' (it's about what?) that I was really hooked and began to 'get them'.
I saved for and began to acquire their back catalogue - from the first unnamed album all the way through to Sticky Fingers, listening, exploring and finally beginning to understand them.
But it was the early summer of 1972 that things changed completely with the issue of Exile on Main Street, which became the soundtrack of my then adolescent life - and, in some respects, still is.
My first big romance broke up to the strains of 'Rocks Off'. I played weekly poker sessions with school friends once a week to 'Rip This Joint' and - obviously - 'Tumbling Dice', a song that, to me, remains their most sublime ever, with Jagger's muddied vocals, Keith's incredible descending riff, Charlie's amazing drumming, all backed up by the stories of the ramshackle, drug-addled way in which the album was recorded in tax exile in the South of France. It all added to the mix and myth of the band.
And from then on, their music continued to be the backing track to my life - sustaining me through happy and sad times. They have always been there and this has been supplemented by catching them live wherever possible.
The first time I saw them was at Belle Vue, Manchester, UK in September 73, when they were just at the far edge of that incredible creative period of 68-72.I went there thinking I would sit and watch them, consider the music thoughtfully. No chance! The last time was in Sheffield, UK in 2006 where I thought they played better than ever. I was still amazed at how these spindly troubadours could grind a steel town to a complete halt. They were incredible.
So - what about their 50th anniversary celebrations?
Will they? Won't they?
Who knows, except them?
One thing I do know is that, as they've been a part of my life for 50 years, I'll be sad but not devastated if they don't tour or release a new album because I know that, whatever, they've been my constant companions for all my adult life and their huge body of work will always be there for me to plunder (I regularly find and rediscover forgotten gems) and together with all the memories, I'll be there for them whatever they choose to do, thick 'n' thin, thru 'n' thru, because they were there for me, even though they didn't know it.
My association with them began circa 1965 - I was nine at the time - and I still remember the grainy TV images of the check-shirted Jagger miming badly to 'Get Off Of My Cloud' on Top of the Pops. Truly mesmerising, even then.
That said, although their music was fairly regularly heard in the household, it wasn't really until that fateful day in April 1971 when I tuned into TOTP to watch a pink suited Jagger, leering knowingly at the camera, strutting and punching out the lyrics to 'Brown Sugar' (it's about what?) that I was really hooked and began to 'get them'.
I saved for and began to acquire their back catalogue - from the first unnamed album all the way through to Sticky Fingers, listening, exploring and finally beginning to understand them.
But it was the early summer of 1972 that things changed completely with the issue of Exile on Main Street, which became the soundtrack of my then adolescent life - and, in some respects, still is.
My first big romance broke up to the strains of 'Rocks Off'. I played weekly poker sessions with school friends once a week to 'Rip This Joint' and - obviously - 'Tumbling Dice', a song that, to me, remains their most sublime ever, with Jagger's muddied vocals, Keith's incredible descending riff, Charlie's amazing drumming, all backed up by the stories of the ramshackle, drug-addled way in which the album was recorded in tax exile in the South of France. It all added to the mix and myth of the band.
And from then on, their music continued to be the backing track to my life - sustaining me through happy and sad times. They have always been there and this has been supplemented by catching them live wherever possible.
The first time I saw them was at Belle Vue, Manchester, UK in September 73, when they were just at the far edge of that incredible creative period of 68-72.I went there thinking I would sit and watch them, consider the music thoughtfully. No chance! The last time was in Sheffield, UK in 2006 where I thought they played better than ever. I was still amazed at how these spindly troubadours could grind a steel town to a complete halt. They were incredible.
So - what about their 50th anniversary celebrations?
Will they? Won't they?
Who knows, except them?
One thing I do know is that, as they've been a part of my life for 50 years, I'll be sad but not devastated if they don't tour or release a new album because I know that, whatever, they've been my constant companions for all my adult life and their huge body of work will always be there for me to plunder (I regularly find and rediscover forgotten gems) and together with all the memories, I'll be there for them whatever they choose to do, thick 'n' thin, thru 'n' thru, because they were there for me, even though they didn't know it.
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