WILKO Johnson has parts of a new album recorded, but he doesn’t know if it will ever be finished, writes James Cox.
The legendary Dr Feelgood guitarist wants to put out one last collection of songs before his terminal illness brings down the curtain on an amazing career.
“I have laid down bits here and there and written a batch of songs,” he says.
“But I’ve been going through a lot lately. I feel great at the moment, but there’s no way of knowing how long that is going to last.”
By “going through a lot lately”, Wilko means pancreatic cancer, for which he has refused life-prolonging chemotherapy.
The Canvey-born performer was diagnosed shortly before Christmas and his life since has been a surreal maze of interviews and celebrity tributes.
Only last week, Wilko, 66, was asked to present Elton John with a Genius Award at the GQ awards, only for the pop singing mega star to return the trophy live on stage saying: “You’re the genius here.”
“He’s too busy living life to think about dying,” Elton told the crowd.
Wilko added: “Elton had asked if I could personally hand him the award.
“He gave it back to me and delivered this speech, which was completely unexpected. It doesn’t get much bigger than him, but what a guy.
“Incidents like this have kept me entertained all year.”
He is most famous for being a member of the 1970s rhythm and blues outfit Dr Feelgood and later a guitarist for the Blockheads.
As a guitar player, he’s hailed as a trailblazer for his staccato, stabbing rhythms and the effortlessly woven blues phrases he plays simultaneously. The essence of his style can be heard in Joe Strummer, Paul Weller, Franz Ferdinand and countless other contemporary acts.
“People are always saying have you heard how much this band or that sound like you,” he says. “But when I was young, I just wanted to sound like Mick Green from Johnny Kidd & the Pirates.
“People are always taking that basic idea and interpreting it in their own way.”
But it’s his illness and the candid manner in which he discusses it which has caught the media’s attention. He does not view his cancer as a tragedy – quite the opposite.
Instead, he insists it has sharpened his perspective and made him appreciate the here and now.
“When the future is decided for you, there’s no point worrying about it,” he says.
“After I was diagnosed, earlier this year, I was on an absolute high.
“I was walking around buzzing and I finally knew what it was to be alive.”
When he discusses his condition, he doesn’t command any sympathy, but nor does he shy away from mentioning it.
Still fiercely passionate about music, his illness has been something of a rebirth.
“I feel like I am young again,” he explains. “I walk around gazing at everything with a big goofy grin on my face.
“I’ve read things saying that is typical of me, but it isn’t.
“I’ve been a miserable so and so all my life and it took dying to make me feel better.”
He contrasts his own illness with that of his wife, Irene, who died of cancer in 2004.
“It was so terrible,” Wilko says.
“It has to be the worst thing that can happen to you, watching someone you love being taken away and there is nothing you can do about it.
“I love her still and I miss her so much. Her death upset me, but it didn’t change my way of thinking like my own illness has.”
Wilko was born on Canvey and these days lives in Westcliff.
He still watches live music in the Railway Hotel, in Clifftown Road, Southend, and is glowing about up-and-coming local bands.
“I am a local boy and have always had to live within spitting distance of the Thames estuary,” he says.
“Travelling was great and I was lucky enough to go all around the world.
“But round here will always be my home.”
Wilko went to Westcliff High School for Boys and honed his guitar skills in local groups, before setting off to Newcastle to get his degree in English.
His first Fender Telecaster, which became his trademark axe, was purchased in Southend for £90.
He was heavily influenced by blues music and early Bob Dylan.
His place in rock and roll history was firmly cemented with his Dr Feelgood and Blockheads stints, as well as a healthy back catalogue of solo work and live performances.
But despite these credentials, Wilko remains coy about what he can offer in way of advice for new performers.
“My taste in music is stuck in 1976,” he admits with a wry smile.
“Young people are much more hip than I can pretend to be.
“But if I have any advice, it’s that you should play what they want and not what you think is required.
“Maybe you’ll be lucky and become a millionaire and even if you don’t, you’ll have a great time trying.”
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