I notice with a creeping sense of depression that my last entry on my website was in August last year. Propelled if by nothing else then the shame of my lack of output (Digitally speaking) I have decided to rise to the occasion now that January 2012 is almost over and hold fast to my New Year's resolution to write regular blogs on this page.

If you are reading this you have probably come across me busking somewhere and been kind enough to either read the (By now somewhat grotty) sign on my guitar case or taken one of my demo cds. So a big thank you for that. Those of you who have been following the long saga will know that I have been recording an EP for the last couple of years. It is ALL but finished now (It is the last minutes of a protracted and traumatic labour), so I thank you for your patience. I am looking forward to having an offering of songs that have my stamp upon them in the near future

But, aside from EPs and matters musical, I have decided that I am going to include more general musings on this site and not confine myself merely to musical announcements (Let's face it, they haven't been overwhelming in their quantity!). So www.jonnywalker.co.uk is expanding it's horizons and I tentatively ask you to join me on this journey of public introspection and rambling. I will also be posting up some of my pieces of writing and poetry in the weeks and months ahead. Something to hold onto over these dark winter nights!

Peace be with you...Until we meet again!

It's Tuesday afternoon and opportunistic seagulls are swooping in from the Irish sea, fighting each other for the last scrap of discarded takeaway chips, cast-offs from the revellers at the annual Mathew Street festival in Liverpool. Industrial street cleaning units are sweeping away the scattered debris from the pedestrianised shopping district. Half the city's workforce walk around in a becalmed stupor, whilst a surprisingly large human remnant refuse to accept the end of festivities and roam in packs of drunken half-revelry. Chilling autumnal winds flick their incessant rain at the proud old buildings. The end of summer looms like a behemoth from a 1940s disaster movie.

If it sounds like I am a bit depressed, then I am. I love Liverpool. I was born here, and I cut my musical teeth busking at the bottom of Mathew Street on Friday and Saturday nights, caring not for the time of night or the season. It is a city which, at it's best, radiates life and energy. It's unpredictable and full of surprises. Unfortunately for me, one of these included the decision of the Council to instruct the police to stop buskers from playing on the streets for the duration of the festival. Apparently they did not want large crowds to gather unless there was an officially sanctioned act, surrounded by a protective cordon of security staff. The idea of tourists wanting to see a spontaneous live performance was too much for those powers that be to contemplate, so the Old Bill were given the instruction to move buskers along, or threaten them with arrest for 'causing an obstruction' under the Highway's Act (a common loophole used against buskers in the absence of other legislation).

They needn't have worried. The only crowds that gathered in the busker-free expanse of the city centres were hordes of intoxicated teenaged boys and girls. They filled the urban landscape outside McDonalds and Burger King, emptying stomachs full of half-digested Big Macs, chips and Blue WKDs onto the pavement, running away from the Police, before finally being carried home to sleep it off. Speaking of which, the afternoon has long passed and it's time for me to get to bed. But I will be writing more about this!

It's been quite a week since I last wrote. Caught up in the riots outside the small studio flat we share in North London, Philippa and I were photographed serving tea to resting riot police and to our immense surprise the resultant photo went viral and appeared in several national newspapers (Usually with greater prominence afforded to Philippa's more photogenic countenance!). I was interviewed by the Independent on Sunday, and found this link to TIME.COM's coverage of the riots. Apparently Fizz and I are one of ten heroes to emerge from last week's events. Given that this list includes a looter who handed herself in, this is perhaps a slightly dubious accolade, but we are taken aback nonetheless by the amount of attention this photograph received.

As I write this sirens are blazing in the distance and there is a big police presence in Camden. Young men who last week were full of testosterone and bravado are being frogmarched into the back of police vans and rushed through hurried court hearings to face justice. Pundits from across the political spectrum are rushing to make their various judgments about what happened. Meanwhile, life goes on for the majority who were not caught up in the mayhem, and life has been shattered for a few who have lost loved ones and have seen their homes destroyed. Like many others I was very moved by Tariq Jahan, father of one of three men killed by a car when protecting their properties during the madness last week. Instead of calling for vengeance, he told everyone to 'go home' and his words of sanity coincided with the end of significant unrest on Britain's streets. I hope those deaths will not be in vain.

I feel like I have been shaken out of complacency this last week. I had taken for granted the ability to walk the streets in safety, and to feel secure in the home I share with my wife. Suddenly, the mask of civility around us slipped, and lawlessness reigned for a time. Or, if not lawlessness, then the law of the jungle. For a few short moments we were given a taste of what life might be like in Afghanistan or Baghdad or Libya...This was terrifying. And yet, in common with many adopted Londoners, we could have left if it had gone on any longer, to inviting family homes in other parts of the country, or to stay with networks of friends who live in places untouched by all the chaos. My thoughts are with those who aren't able to split at the first sign of trouble, and who will be rebuilding their communities and shattered lives long after the tv camera's have moved on...

Since I got married in early July I have been spending a lot more time down in Camden because my wife works down here in London. It's taken some getting used for a Northern boy like me (Born in Liverpool, teenage years in Yorkshire). It's big, it's a bit smelly, and it's very fast. I spent last week back in Liverpool meeting up with the producer of my soon-to-be finished debut EP and made my way back to London with Philippa. We were listening to the radio in the car and there was some talk of riots in Tottenham. We looked at each other and said, 'Good job it's not kicking off in Chalk Farm'.

How wrong we were! Last night we heard screaming and loud noises outside the flat we share. I had visions of my trusty Skoda going up in flames so we decided to move the car out of the danger zone. We didn't make it back into the flat for 4 hours as the riots took hold on our doorstep and police lines (Complete with dogs) held lines at both ends of our road whilst gangs of youths tried to set scooters on fire and ransacked our Sainsbury's Local and a bike shop...

We had to run away from clashes between youths and the police on several occasions, and took refuge in a security booth in Camden Market, a vantage point from whence we watched men in hoods and balaclavas loot a couple of shops and wantonly aim fireworks at the police. It took a few hours for things to calm down enough for us to be allowed behind police lines and back to our flat. We noticed a large group of battle-weary police outside our flat keeping an uneasy peace. It occurred to us both that they could probably use a cup of tea so we disappeared upstairs and made our way back to the street with an improvised teapot (Actually a water filter!). We were greeted by an officer with a riot shield who made use of it as a tray a moment that was captured by a photographer who had made his way to Camden from the disturbances earlier in Hackney...

So I'm thinking of leaving music behind and opening up a tea shop with Philippa. What do you think?

Anyway, things are calmer in London now. I hope they stay this way. People have really suffered these last few days and we've had enough. I pray for peace and calm in the other parts of the country that are affected, especially because I'm due in Liverpool this weekend to work on the EP.

Peace for now,

Jonny

I am back in Liverpool the city of my birth putting the finishing touches to my debut EP... Enjoying being back up in the North... More to follow.

It has been a whirlwind few months. This time last year I was a bachelor and now, as of July 2nd this year, I am a married man. In all the excitement of weddings and honeymoons, my EP has been on the backburner but I am pleased to be able to announce that I am back in the recording studio (Namely producer Jez Wing's bedroom) to put the finishing touches to my debut EP, ''This Is Not Me".

I will be updating this website with news and photos. You can also keep in touch with me on my Facebook fanpage site.

Meanwhile if you are interested in booking me for a wedding/birthday/special event just fill in this form on my webpage.

I look forward to seeing you on a city high street in the coming months!

Love,

Jonny

Jonny Walker is a singer/songwriter, a performer, a busker and musician - he travels all over and performs to you live in your City. This year is one of the most important year's of his life as he launches his first EP 'This is not me' and marries the love of his life, Philippa Morgan. Jonny Walker shares with you his journey and hopes you enjoy it!!!

Jonny Walker is a singer/songwriter, a performer, a busker and musician - he travels all over and performs to you live in your City. This year is one of the most important year's of his life as he launches his first EP 'This is not me' and marries the love of his life, Philippa Morgan. Jonny Walker shares with you his journey and hopes you enjoy it!!!

Some photos have been added to the Jonny Walker gallery. These images were taken by the webmaster of this site many moons ago. A fine day in the sun, not a stones throw from where the Beatles played, the Cavern Club. Follow this link to the images.