In fact, it’s safe to say he was more upright than the letters which formed his name outside. He was in fine form, skittering left and right, much as he had before his enforced layoff. Wilko’s first ‘real’ return to the stage came the following spring at the Shepherds Bush Empire. And just in case you’re wondering why he’s not with his signature black Telecaster with the red scratch plate he’s playing Chas Jankel’s Tele instead. It was only a few months after his surgery and whilst he was obviously still quite frail, it was the best Christmas present I received that year for sure. Given those connections, there were rumours circulating in the venue that Wilko might be there but even so, when he appeared at the end for a couple of encores, I really couldn’t believe it. Norman has been stage left to Wilko’s stage right ever since. He held a brief position in it from 1980, where he made the acquaintance of ace bassist Norman Watt Roy. Wilko has a strong connection with the band. They had a habit of doing a Christmas show there and by now I was establishing a habit of snapping it. I was actually at a Blockheads (as in, Ian Dury and the) gig at The Jazz Café in Camden. My first opportunity to photograph Wilko came in December 2014. All of a sudden, those photographs I didn’t expect to take, mean a great deal more. The outpouring of emotion I’ve seen in both the mainstream and in social media in the last few days has been really moving and it’s comforting to realise just how much Wilko clearly meant to so many people. It was announced this week that Wilko passed away at home on Monday evening. I’m really pleased to be able to say that I never took an evening in Wilko Johnson’s company for granted ever again. Each one of those times felt like a precious gift opportunities I certainly didn’t expect to receive. In the end, I did get to photograph him after all quite a number of times in fact. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my second thought, which arrived not long after, was that maybe I might get to photograph Wilko after all… So, when it came to pass that his initial diagnosis was wide of the mark and through the expertise of cancer specialist Charlie Chan and surgeon Emmanuel Huget, he was given a second chance at life, I’m pleased to report that my first thought was to be delighted for him. Wilko was obviously the person who mattered here. Of course, to think like this was an act of extreme self-indulgence. The theory in my head was that if an artist I loved could be so cruelly taken away from me like this, then who might be next? I suddenly wanted those permanent, tangible memories. I’d seen Wilko play many, many times, but had no permanent, tangible memories. In essence, it was his terminal pancreatic cancer diagnosis in late 2012 and the (apparent) sure knowledge that I wouldn’t ever see him play again beyond his ‘farewell’ tour in early 2013 that made me want to document live music. I’ve written before in these pages about how it came to be that the iconic Dr Feelgood guitarist, Wilko Johnson sparked a second career for me in music photography.
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