Sometimes, cynically, I wonder what might have happened if I’d abused drugs and alcohol more over my lifetime. Would this have given me level of notoriety, a credibility, a legendary status I’ve never really enjoyed?


Neither did I ever play any of New Zealand’s iconic pub venues. No one has fond memories of me rocking The Gluepot or the Kings Arms. In fact, while I loved many of bands who played there, I’m not sure I was ever even in the audience at these venues given my aversion to public places during my five seconds of fame.


Finally, there’s no chance you’re ever going the crowd singing my songs at the footy.


As shallow as this is going to sound, I’m a little bit envious of status many Kiwi musical heroes share in these respects. Especially, during Kiwi Music Month when legends are celebrated and remembered fondly and rightfully so. We all know who they are — these iconic bands and artists — and I’m as much of a fan of them as you are.


Their stripes are well deserved and hard earned. They persisted where I did not. They reaped what they sowed and so did I.


I only ever wanted to be a songwriter and when I segued into something else, I ran for the hills. I fled from fame and found anonymity just writing songs.


Decades later, that’s what I still do. And much to my surprise, I’m pretty sure I’m still writing good songs. In that sense l have been successful beyond my wildest expectations, the fact recording has become a hobby not a living, notwithstanding.


I now have a bagful of new songs and my mission is to find way for you hear them. Nothing new there — finding the right venue for what I do has always been a challenge.


Thinking back, (as you do at my age), my very first public appearance was in a coffee lounge — after the last picture show got out — playing for people who did not know me or my songs. Nevertheless, they listened and clapped and came back the following week for more and I don’t believe I was ever happier.


Something to ponder don’t you think?