Alan Pownall
13.10.09
Londoner Alan Pownall is about to release his debut single 'Colorful day' through the Young and Lost record label, a song that he first wrote when he was sixteen and has been with him through all his trials and tribulations since. He has toured with the leading light of British soul, Adele and is soon to undertake a tour supporting equally soulful but far more masculine Mr.Hudson. Currently doing residency at Pure Groove Records in London before locking himself away in the studio to record a his debut album that is being produced by one of the leading producers in the music industry, Elliot James.
http://www.myspace.com/alanpownall
He Said
I think it was a Tuesday we went to see Alan - but if I'm honest it was my birthday weekend in the days before so I was suffering a suicide Tuesday like no other. The sweats were with me and paranoia a constant source of irritation. The invite tonight came from Alan Pownall to watch the start of his residency at Pure Groove records. I had heard a few things about him before the gig and all those things were good, so true to form I was early and she was late.
The place was suffocated with quiffs and hipsters. Not your 3:00am I know a guy that can sort it if we go to see so and so hipster. The middle class hipster, the art college hipster. The hipster who had Hummus in their lunch boxes while we had Haribo. I don't necessarily hate them but I do reserve the right to judge them.
She constantly asks questions, some of them I know the answers to, some them I meet with a hopeful sigh that maybe she will find merely amusing. He stands an imposing six foot 2 inches and with a shaven head in a certain light down certain alleys he cuts a figure that could go home with your wallet and your girl. He starts with the b-side to his new single and from the first word he has me, not by the bollocks where rock and roll is supposed to strike but in my much unused muscle of late... The heart.
The meaning of his songs, to me screams of a man racked with his own guilt. When Alan sings I hear violins. Alan might not belong to this world, Im not telling tales of noose or needles but that that far more dangerous and devilish disease of mainstream success.
The gig ends I and I go to find her, she is stood silhouetted against a back drop of what has gone before, how do you find the words when all the words have just been sung by someone who isn't you. I ask her if she likes it, she tells me she loved it and that she is going for a chat.
I spy a talentless hack from the music rags, the same old hack who will lord Alan to the heavens, then scream sell out from the rooftops when the debut album drops. If I have anything left in me it is the belief in the blog and it is with that belief I have to stop the hack from her good mood.
Me: 'Don't I know you?'
Hack: 'Er I don't think so' (said with the arrogance of someone who needs a slap incidently)
Me: 'Yeah, yeah I do you're that guy who writes for the music magazine... You write really well man'
Yes I sucked his cock... The money shot was a sticky awkward affair and the aftertaste was of embarrassment and shame, but letting him dribble on about nothing in particular was what enabled her to get what she wanted. As a sideline there are few things that hurt you more than being stood centimeters away from a conversation that you belong in. But sacrifices have to be made for success to be gained. I took bullets while she took numbers.
She Said
I had spoken to Alan on the phone the Friday before about something work related and completely separate to this ridiculous babble. So I was rather surprised when his PR contacted us and asked us to come and see him play. He sounded like a nice bloke on the phone and Chris told me he was really good so we went down.
I met Chris outside and was immediately taken aback by the fact he seemed to be wearing a handbag. He insisted it was actually a satchel, but it was definitely a handbag. Much to my amusement he also seemed to think it had some sort of Lynx advert magical powers, and kept pointing it in the direction of any attractive girl who came near him. And there were PLENTY of attractive girls there - the reason became clear when Alan took to the stage.
Alan is not your stereotypical Alan and not how I had pictured him on the phone at all. He is in fact very handsome and sings with the honesty of a man whose heart has been thrown to the dogs. There is clarity to his voice, which although helped by the amazing sound in the venue, undeniable talent. The fact he only decided to become a musician in his twenties is shocking, no Brit style training for old Alan here. He seems to have just picked up a guitar one day and BANG.
His song 'Clara' had all the girls foaming at the mouth and left Chris's bag utterly redundant.
So after this impressive performance Chris pushed me in Alan's direction so he could flirt with girls and show off his new accessory. To be honest I was one of the girls foaming at the mouth so I was a bit nervous. I had done a little bit of research and knew he'd studied design in Italy before his music career started. As I had done this too (not in Italy - and not before starting a flourishing music career) I felt this piece of middle ground was a good place to start. Anyway we had a really nice chat about it, and I nodded and stared into his eyes (he touched my arm twice). After that I kind of ruined the good vibes between us - I asked him if there anything unique about him.
Alan - 'Well I'm deaf in one ear.'
Me - 'Right, right. So does that incapacitate your life in any way?'
Alan - 'EMILY! I'm a fucking musician.'
Deciding that incredibly stupid remark was too terrifyingly difficult to recover from and far out of my own capabilities, I shuffled back to Chris.
Chris - 'What happened?'
Me - 'He said he liked my jacket' (hoping my red cheeks could pass for flattery)
Chris - 'Did he say anything about my bag?'
Me - 'No Chris. He didn't mention your bag'
