I’m Simon Clothier. Conceived in Bethnal Green, born in Islington, raised in Croydon, 25 years in Wimbledon, and currently in 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 — and nothing tangible followed from the single release. 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. Not bad for a bloke with a ukulele in the back of the van.
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" — a label I've always rather liked. Audience responses led to a collaboration with 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 used to raise awareness about adoption. It led to me appearing on Sky News twice, speaking from my own perspective as an adoptee. I made little from it and the song was never intended as a fundraiser — it just felt like the right thing to do.
Then my musical world imploded. A difficult situation with a former manager left me disillusioned with an often disingenuous industry. Most of all — I 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. Those initial tracks are growing into a new album, and with it, a return to live performance. My goals these days are simple. Keep writing songs that give me the catharsis I need to deal with whatever life throws. Get them out into the world so that someone, somewhere, might find one that resonates — because it happens, and when someone gets in touch to say a song meant something to them, it makes everything worthwhile. And just… sing.
Time has been kind to the old voice, and getting on a stage — hearing applause from people who didn’t know you an hour ago — I genuinely think that’s one of the greatest feelings there is.
That’s me… Simon Clothier – Journeyman Muso. Builder. Balladeer. Incurable Romantic. Still here.
