Okay, here’s the scene. Me, living in Australia, eating badly, and trying to be a poet, I mean think about it, what a crazy romantic foolish notion! But in the end I didn’t write any poetry, I just drank a lot of beer and worked some really bad jobs, kitchen hand, peanut seller, labourer, telemarketer, etc. Hold on, telemarketer, now what exactly does that mean? Fucked if I know! But I did it for a while.

Then one day I took a visit to the local library and much to my delight found I was eligible to join, and for free! After signing up I browsed the collection, a paltry affair, but then one man’s dump is another man’s goldmine, and lo and behold in the music section I chanced upon a copy of ‘Gram Parsons and the Fallen Angels Live 1973’.

I didn’t have clue who he was, but some sixth sense told me it was imperative that I listen to this album. So acting on this strange intuition I loaned the only copy and went home and played it immediately. And, boy was in for a thrill, for as soon as the first bars and timeless steel guitar creaked out of the dusty speakers the world was suddenly a better place to live.

I suppose this album sums up my taste in music, badly recorded, bad musicianship, but packed with emotion. I listened to the New Soft Shoe and was blown away, a sad song, about what, I don’t know and still don’t, but it hits you right in the heart and tugs at those strings. Sing it Gram!

After this musical epiphany I delved deep into the world of the Cosmic Cowboy and discovered there were more hidden gems out there. Two brilliant solo albums, ‘GP’ and ‘Grievous Angel’ with the wonderful Emmylou Harris, ‘The Gilded Palace of Sin’ and ‘Burrito Deluxe’ with the Flying Burrito Brothers, and some early work with the Byrds. On a sadder note I also found out that GP had checked out at the Joshua Tree Inn, in the Mojave Desert, in 1974, and was no longer with us.

But the music lives forever and it can quite literally change your life. I was still stuck in sunny Australia, performing terrible jobs, but with Gram by my side it made the crappiness of my situation just that little bit more bearable. It also gave me the inspiration to carry on making my way in the world and eventually to begin writing. And for that I am truly grateful.

Joe grew up in the East End of London and left school with few qualifications. He then embarked on a succession of menial jobs. After being stabbed in a bar brawl and getting robbed at knifepoint he decided it was time to leave the country and promptly travelled the world; Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia, Japan, Australia, and New Zealand. He stayed in Australia for three years living mostly in the Kings Cross area of Sydney until he became an illegal immigrant. To avoid being deported Joe then went to Thailand and brought a share in the world's smallest bar, the famous and now defunct Barcelona Bar. After fleeing Thailand with a tail between his legs he returned to London in 2001 where he lives and writes to this day. To read Joseph’s story ‘Candice’ on the showcase section of this site, click here.

© 2007 Laura Hird All rights reserved.