What can I say? Truth is I’m an old bloke who taught himself guitar as a teenager and inspired by Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon and Bob Dylan started writing songs, and never stopped since. I played local pubs and folk clubs, sometimes with my brother, other times with a guy I knew who’d been on a TV talent show. The music was everything. So I gave up the day job working in a store, gave up the room Michele and I were renting, and we went on the road. Dreams are hard to live on. We hit a wall and Michele attempted suicide. I took her home, got a proper job and married her to make amends. Eventually there was enough money to give her a proper life. We had three kids, all boys. Two out of three took to the guitar, the third one prefers IT programming and grunge music, I don’t know where we went wrong. The marriage lasted 20 years. The next marriage lasted half that time but long enough to produce another three, again all boys, and so far the guitar-playing ratio looks like two out of three with them too. By some undeserved miracle all six grew up close, ex-wives became friends, and the music continued – although now just in crowded kitchen concerts where guitars are everywhere and everyone knows the chords. Harry is son number five. He’s eighteen now and music-wise the most ambitious of them all (Jim, son two, is the best musician by far but doesn’t push it. He prefers to live on frugal nothing and bake his own bread and brew his own beer). Harry writes, sings and has a charisma on stage that can only have come from his mother. He is committed to a career in music. Last year Harry and I wanted to try recording some stuff and discovered Dave Needham. Dave runs a tiny studio out of a shed that used to be part of an old stable block here in Epsom, England. He built a lot of the kit himself. For all it’s a homespun setup it’s a high quality operation. Dave works with a whole bunch of serious guys including David Essex, who is still a big name here and who recorded a gold disc in the studio. For Harry and me it was like meeting God. We ended up recording a whole album, and the results were strong enough to surprise us all. What to do about it? The songs were ones we'd played and sung together for so long, but now they sounded like maybe they were ready to fly. Every piece of music ever written has its own destiny. Even if it only connects with the writer it still has value. But if it's meant for others to enjoy, others will find it. Richard Grace (aka Old Man Winter)