Benjamin Clementine

Art is informed by life experiences and Clementine's stories and music are mesmeric.  Alone in a box of frogs or something as mad as.  One can imagine him busking in the Paris metro but the romantic figure of a drifting busker masks the harsh reality of this lifestyle. Holed up in hostels with other drifters sounds like the loneliest place to be.  Now he has made the big time we can all be thankful he can have Xmas in a London villa with a grand piano and flowing garments, long fingers pulling out some Nina inspired classics. The Mercury prize is a good way of recognising talent and I hope he does well.  He could even write some of the great classics.
I had a friend he reminds me of in Santa Cruz, a 6 foot 7 guy who had taken a vow of silence in Cook County jail when authorities forcefully had his dreads cut off. He told me about living in heating ducts on the top of buildings in San Francisco and how he nearly died when one of those fans started whirring.  He used to sleep in my garden on an outdoor sofa, unwilling to sleep in the house as it wasn’t under the stars.  He borrowed my typewriter when I was at College to write his poems and when he asked to print them there were 700 pages.  He walked round Santa Cruz banging his drum singing, 'I want to live in Africa put my feet in the Nile, want to live in London to see if they are more civilized'  

Anyway Benjamin provided the most uplifting moment of the musical year with his acceptance speech.  Days after the Paris massacre he summed it all up with …silence.  Sometimes words are not enough.

And I hope he put that dry stone wall back together..