You start reading with one set of expectations; quickly find you are veering all over… it’s essay as magpie; veering with its own logic, & alighting on brilliant people & things as it goes.

I got to know Tony Wilson just a little. He’d love it. He was just like that.

The man was wonderful, chaotic, maddening.

He was inspiring & brilliant & creative too. BUT.

He was NOT those things DESPITE the maddening, chaotic aspects. But BECAUSE of them.

#manchester #music #FactoryRecords #creative

Once you understood that openness to juxtapositions & accidents was a feature, not a bug… Then it all made sense. It was beautiful.

The shambolic Factory Records setup. The delight in Shaun Ryder (not just his lyrics, but his speech, his life) as poetry. The way he talked - ADHD as hobby. But such gentleness.

He could not keep an appointment or a phone interview… I’d wait, knowing he would not dial in. Say, 30 mins. Then ignore PR & call his mobile… and the next bit was AMAZING.

#manchester

This is how the phone call might go.

[Ringing. Picks up. Sound of frantic running footsteps, cries, heavy panting.]

“Hello?! Who… [off-mic] ouch, sorry madam! What? Haha I know! A great support act too! [Returning to me] Hello? I’m running to catch a bus!”

Tony, it’s Matt, we…

“Haha! GREAT! We can do it like this!” [Running. Cars hoot. Panting]

And it would be an AMAZING chat. He’d bring in things he saw along the way.

#manchester #music #factoryrecords #tonywilson #creativity

People would recognise him, shout things. He’d shout back - sometimes those would become impromptu note-swapping with strangers about music, or business ideas, while I waited on the phone, listening in.

It became clear that it was a *salon* approach.

Make new & unexpected ideas & conversations happen by throwing together situations in which people & worlds & things that would never normally meet, could not help but cross over, clash, pollinate each other.

He *was* the scene.

And that’s what a lot of people miss. They find scenes & try to identify Svengalis. But he wasn’t a controller. He was a catalyst.

A terrible businessman? Well, that depends return you’re looking for in what you do. I know what he wanted, & it wasn’t a pile of paper cash.

There was one sign-off on every email he sent.

Not his details, his PA’s contacts. Just a sentence.

“The past is prologue.”

He he didn’t have a plan. He wasn’t writing the next bit, even. He just couldn’t wait to read it.