Wise moves

Many years ago, when I was part of the Bakewell Arts Festival, I had a dream to book John Cooper Clarke as part of the fun. He wasn't in a good place back then, and I was wisely warned off pursuing it by someone who knew the score. To my amazement he was booked in at Bakewell Town Hall as part of his tour with Mike Garry on Wednesday night. You give up on Bakewell and move to Sheffield and look what happens! I went back to Bakewell to see him and a great night was had by all. I was trying to remember when, where and how often I had seen him back in the late seventies. Alan Wise must have been his manager through some of that time. I was reminiscing about all the support slots he did back in the days when I did the door for Alan Wise. By Thursday afternoon I started to hear rumours that Alan had died, rumours that soon became a fact. How sad, so soon after the recent death of his daughter. Over the last few years I've heard people talk about the huge contribution Alan made to the Manchester music scene, unacknowledged for many years for many different reasons, not least because of the complicated approach to life Alan took. I read a great article in praise of him in a Salford paper today, pointing out that while Alan often owed money, we in fact owed him far more. My own friendship with him began in the late seventies when I used to do the door for him at Rafters. I had a day job, but loved the buzz of those nights out. When I met up with him at a Martin Hannett event a couple of years ago, he described me as his best ever door girl. For all I know he said that to all of them, but I'm proud that he thought that and remembered to tell me all those years later. I have a theory about it now I'm older. It never occurred to me to help myself to any of the takings, put my mates on the guest list or skive on the job. I was reliable and loyal. Thanks to those nights working for Alan - and he never owed me money, I was always paid - I saw some great music and comedy and met some fantastic people. It's an era of my life that has its own complications. As a result of something that happened whilst I was working for him, I ended up running away to Morocco and working there for a year. Once I came back, I did meet up with him again, but then the Hacienda opened and my part time door job found a new home. Last time I saw Alan, he asked me to send him a Bakewell pudding. I did. I hope he got it. I suspect he would have preferred a Bakewell tart. There are rumours that he was working on a book, and I know he had written some memoirs. He appears in James Young's book about Nico, 'Songs They never Play on the Radio', as Dr Demetrius. Fact or myth, I know we will not see his like again.