Conceived in Bethnal Green, born in Islington to a schoolgirl mother, adopted at 6 weeks of age, raised in Croydon, 25 years in West London and currently in leafy Surrey.
I just love writing songs — the creating, the moment an idea in your head becomes a song that someone else feels something from. That, for me, is everything. It always has been.
In the 1990’s I was signed by a US production company to record an album under the band name Saints Believe Us. The album “Invalid if Detached” was recorded with some big name American session musicians and I kind of felt I ended up with a Michael Bolton record, just with me singing — had it not been for me insisting on my great pal Steve playing bass, there’d have been little of my inherent identity on the record.
I was disappointed. But you know what? It sounded pretty good and we had our moments — we enjoyed a lots of UK and US regional airplay from single “I Don’t Believe It”….but regrettably, nothing more tangible than that (and then pick up back to the return to construction bits.) I resigned myself to life back in construction, from whence I came. And construction turned out to be quite a world. I spent years on some of the most iconic projects in the country — Wembley Stadium and the London 2012 Olympic sites.
And I always carried a ukulele in the back of the van…still do!
In 2005, I gave a rather spontaneous (if maybe murderous) performance of the Beach Boys’ classic “God Only Knows” at my daughter’s school charity event. It was well received, I recorded it for her, and then — a couple of years later after a few beers — I sent it to Roy Sakuma, Hawaiian ukulele legend. In a 3am phone call, he invited me to Honolulu to perform at the Starbucks Ukulele Festival of Hawaii.
I was expecting some kind of village fair. What I got was an occasion worthy of Hyde Park — headlined by Jack Johnson — with the Pacific Ocean just a few yards to my right on stage. I look back at how magnificently ill-prepared I was. I savour a great deal of that memory, regret a degree more, but I will treasure it always.
That experience inspired my debut album, Songs From A Small Guitar. My track 'Playing For America' delivered crossover success in the US — charting in New Music Week's AC Hot 100, Indie Top 30, Country Chart, and National College Chart. A slot on Libby Purves' national BBC show Midweek followed, and then an opportunity to open for platinum-selling artists The Soldiers on a UK tour.
ITV called me "The Singing Builder" — with "the voice of an angel, the face of a Mitchell brother" — bit harsh...but fair enough...!
Audience responses led to a collaboration with producer Peter Vitesse on my single 'Just Saying' — a romcom of a song, and one I still love. Around the same time I released 'Over and Done' — a song I wrote about my birth father whom I eventually tracked down after a 25 year search. It led to me appearing on Sky News twice, speaking from my own perspective as an adoptee.
Then my musical world imploded. A difficult situation with a former manager left me disillusioned with an often disingenuous industry. I sought and found solace, unexpectedly, in the Kidzfield at Glastonbury where I ran ukulele workshops with a couple of colleagues for youngsters & parents. It was really rewarding, gave me back a perspective on what music should really be about.
That said, I’d lost the urge to write…I’d simply lost interest.
I never thought that would happen to me. I fell back into things because of Nigella Lawson. Not that she had any idea at all… One day, watching TV with my mother-in-law, she mentioned that my brother-in-law had “a bit of a thing” for Nigella. The next day I was poodling about with my uke in the kitchen — appropriately — and ten minutes later, ‘Nigella’ was written.
The song got great TV and radio exposure — including London Live and the BBC. I was back in gear. I did hope Nigella herself would hear it — and I eventually got a copy to her directly (cost me a couple of cookbooks, but my wife’s a big fan). She was gracious, though I rather felt she wasn’t best pleased. I have a particular affection for that song. It brought me out of some genuinely dark days.
I had planned a third album for 2022. And then — my wife, the 38-year love of my life, developed breast cancer. She became my sole focus, my only purpose. I lost any appetite for music entirely — and came to resent my earlier work. Songs about heartbreak that felt, in retrospect, vacuous. Because now I truly understood what heartbreak was.
I met producer Simon Allen, who produced a couple of songs with me. I loved the result — Simon is a remarkable producer and he has completely revitalised me. We’re now 10 tracks or so into an album with couple more days in Abbey Road scheduled for late July to knock out a final three songs. Hoping to have it available by the autumn.
My goals these days are simple…just to write, record & sing songs that give me the catharsis to deal with whatever life has to throw at me, as I crash through the last vestiges of middle age!
I am fortunate…time has been kind to ‘the old Hobsons’ and I am looking forward to just pitching up again in grass root venues, sticking my name on the list and getting up and playing. Hearing applause from people who didn’t know you an hour ago (or dodging glasses….yep, done it all..) is genuinely one of the most invigorating and best things you can ever do…
That’s me…
