The River

 

'The River' is taken from the soundtrack to the novel 'Nothing Much'. 

The theme of past and present runs throughout much of the concept and promotion around both the novel and the soundtrack. The video above maintains that concept, flicking between colour and black and white, with ageing effects on various sections of the footage. The footage itself was taken on a warm, sunny day in North Shields, August 2026, from a vantage point on Tyne Street. This same vista would have been taken in by the novel's main characters Billy and Esther in the 1990s, when the story is set. It would also have been taken in by William Fannen and Esther Rodgerson 120 years previously.

Even the song itself flirts with past/present. 'The River' was originally written in 2003 and recorded on a maroon Tascam 4-track portastudio. The song was one of the first written after I had allowed my band Echolalia to fizzle out. It appeared on the lo-fi, eponymous debut album of Broken Down Lorry in 2003/4ish - memories of cars crashing into houses, young family homelessness and bereavements have sort of made that time a bit of a blur. Fast forwarding to today, the song seemed a logical inclusion on the soundtrack; its lyrics depicting the tenacity, resilience and independence of story-Esther's sister Mary-Ann.

The ship in the video is the DFDS ferry that runs daily from North Shields to the Netherlands. There are hopes that the ferry to Scandinavia will be revived soon. Freight still pours in and out of North Shields by boat too, and it is on a freight liner that Billy's dad works in the novel. When the footage for the video was filmed, volunteers continued to attempt to clean both river and shore of millions of nurdles - tiny plastic beads used to make bigger plastic things - that had been spilled in the port following a collision between two boats. The nurdles continue to be washed up, an environmental catastrophe which seems to be swept under the sand by the big businesses involved.

The soundtrack is available at www.brokendownrecords.bandcamp.com, a 10-track collection of songs and instrumentals which comes with ebook versions of the novel 'Nothing Much'.

If you get an order for the paperback novel in before the end of October, you can get the soundtrack on a white CD too. That's at www.brokendownrecords.bandcamp.com/merch

Text and video copyright John Hartley 2026; all rights reserved.

An introduction to 'Nothing Much'

 

“Evening.”

Billy stuffed a digestive biscuit into his mouth, whole, spilling crumbs down the front of his t-shirt, then dusted the debris of foliage off the top of the wall before sitting down.

“Evening,” Esther laughed. “Such a romantic entrance, William.”

Billy and Esther live in North Shields, North Tyneside; a town that last year celebrated its 800th birthday. Their story , 'Nothing Much', is set in the mid-1990s, a time of local industrial, economic and societal turbulence.

Esther Rodgerson and William Fannen lived in North Shields, Northumberland; a town that was 650 years into its development from small fishing huts on the edge of the Tyne. They married in 1873, William a boatbuilder and Esther the daughter of the Tyne Ferry stationmaster. Her father, Joseph, was my three-times Great Grandfather.

The ideas behind 'Nothing Much' began to form following some family history research and a visit to the town in 2024. The story is, of course, pure fiction. However, the themes - families, teenagers, relationships, friendships, love - are far from that. They are themes that course through every age, every generation, every life.

'Nothing Much' is not a story about life and death. There's plenty enough of that around to read. No: 'Nothing Much' is just a story about life - the little conversations we have with the neighbours, our work colleagues, our families, each other. The little moments we share that rock no foundations but cement our relationships in shared experience.

'Nothing Much' is available to pre-order now, ahead of its Nov 6th publication. Various options are available for pre-order:

Signed: Paperback (5"x8", 168pp) with free CD-r original soundtrack album. Available up to an including 1st November 2026. £12.99 plus postage here

Digital: Ebook (PDF/EPUB/MOBI files) plus digital original soundtrack album. £7.00 here

Basic: Paperback (£12.99 plus postage) or Ebook (£3.99) from the bookstore of your choice here

image and text copyright John Hartley 2026. All rights reserved.

Last Year’s Pop Star

It’s been a while since I last released any music. Nearly a year ago, if I remember correctly. I could check, but that would require some effort on my part and it’s too muggy and humid and I’m tired, so that’s a no-go.

Until the start of August the last music I did release was ‘Lovesongs from the North Vol. 2’. I played some of those songs live, on stage, to a paying audience in September. Earlier this year I played some of them too, as well as giving a debut to a song called ‘The Hush’. You can hear a version of that on the ep I released a couple of weeks ago, entitled ‘Goodnight, Sunshine’. It serves as a taster for the soundtrack to a novel I will be publishing later this year, all being well, entitled ‘Nothing Much’. I’ll talk about that some other time.

Also on the ep is a song entitled ‘Last Year’s Pop Star’. I saw him, a few times actually, over the period of songwriting in which I was engaged. It’s funny how things turn out. I mean, I wouldn’t know first-hand, of course. I’ve not been any year’s pop star.  But no, there he was, tanning himself on a 90s sunbed. What was I doing in the vicinity of a 90s sunbed? With my naturally slow-tanning complexion? You may well ask, but an answer shall not be forthcoming. I was not indulging in the same, however. Earlier in the same week he had been in the 80s disco at Ritzy’s. You may also wonder what I was doing there, but you would not believe me if I told you, so there’s no point. A couple of weeks later I caught him digging up next door’s rosebed in search, he said, of what the squirrels had been burying. When I told him it was just nuts, he thought I said he was just nuts, and spent the next half hour sobbing in their coal shed.

‘Goodnight, Sunshine’ can be downloaded or streamed at https://brokendownrecords.bandcamp.com/album/goodnight-sunshine

And for now, that is all.

Keep left. See you anon x

Stop/Go

Sometimes the germ of a story festers, lingers, nags in the back of my mind. I can try and write it, rewrite it, rewrite again, and it is still not quite right. 'Stop/Go' has had four or five different iterations, of which this is the most recent. The initial concept came from a dream, over a couple of decades ago. That dream manifested itself into a song which itself had a few versions (one here) Indeed, if you download that whole ep you'll get another version of the short story free: almost as if I'm remixing the story like I might a song.

Anyway, here you go: make of it what you will ...

 ↭Stop/Go↭

It’s all I have; this huge metal lollipop, one side red STOP, the other green GO. But you’ve done well for yourself, I see. It’s a fine car you have there. I presume it’s yours, anyway. You’ve certainly done better than me. From where I’m standing, at any rate. 

You were in my dream the other night, you know; it’s just coming back to me. Strange how that happens; triggers, a few days on, cosmic forces we don’t understand. Ma said we were made for each other. You were the prettiest in the class; clever too. That was fourteen years ago. Lives take different paths.

I can’t remember how it ended – the dream; we were back in school, and I woke up with that same uneasy feeling I had when we were 10 and Robert Sidebottom asked you out. He’s in and out of Strangeways these days. Troubled; that’s how Ma describes him. I’m at least one step ahead of him, anyway.

And now here we are, basking in the sun: you in your convertible, me in my bucket hat, both of us getting high on the fumes of freshly-boiled tarmac. I’m not entirely sure you recognise me. If you do, you’re not letting on. Why would you? My face is dirty, I haven’t shaved for a couple of days … I’ve grown since we last met: on the bus home from school, your Ma trying to get us to chat, me too shy. Maybe I should stick my pole in the sandbags and reintroduce myself? 

We’d have all the time in the world; I could keep the traffic here for hours. Kenny, round the corner, is waiting for me to turn my sign round. He can’t turn his until I give him the shout. If I tell him I’m turning but don’t, we’ll both be on STOP. Nobody would move. That would give me forever to talk to you. Do you think we might be friends again? I haven’t got much money – can’t afford any car, never mind one like yours – but I could make you laugh. Just like when we got told off during Miss Makinson’s story time. That’s got to be worth something? Maybe we could go on a date, get married, have kids, just like you said back in infants?

Now that car behind you is sounding his horn at me. That’s not a good move really, is it? Don’t irk the most powerful man in the world. One false move and I’ll shout to Kenny, we can both be on STOP, and then what? Gridlock: streets then villages, towns then cities, ports and airports … the world! All at the mercy of little me with my big metal lollipop. 

So what should I do? Let you go, or keep you waiting for my sign to turn to green. Maybe I should let the fates take charge? I might toss a coin? Heads for STOP, tails for GO. Ready? Three … two … one …

text and images copyright John Hartley 2026. All rights reserved.

"Nothing Much"

 

I'm now closing in on the (self) publication of my next novel. It's possibly a novella, depending on how old you are, of course. If you're younger than, say 20, I think I can get away with describing it as a novel. If you're older, then pedants will no doubt be chanting "it's a novella" from the kerbside. Basically, it's less than 50000 words for anyone who's counting.

"Nothing Much" is a departure from The Broken Bottle trilogy although, like the last of the three, it is again set in the North East of England. In North Shields, to be precise. The story is framed in the mid-1990s and revolves around neighbours Billy (18) and Esther (16). A gentle tale of teenagers from unconventional family settings falling in love, it is loosely inspired by the Rodgersons and Fannens of mid-19th century North Shields. Without some of the Rodgersons, I'd not be here today.

The image above is of the herring girl sculpture by the fish quay there, but is not the cover of the book. The cover will be based on a photograph taken by the fantastic community venture I Love North Shields, shot yards from where much of the action is set. I say action, but, well, you know how these things go ... Here's a snippet, to give an idea:

Further news on pre-orders, cover reveals, publication dates and prices will follow in due course. As with 'This Is Not The End', there is a soundtrack album in the making as well. That'll make things easier for Mr. Spielberg when he comes to make the movie, won't it?

all text, images and artwork copyright John Hartley 2026, with all rights reserved.

Extract from New Sound Melody interview, 10th February 1991

 

Extract from New Sound Melody interview, 10th February 1991

Billy Fairhurst is in bullish mood. The warmth of the open fire in his local boozer provides stark contrast to the cold spring of 1987. Back then, Those Flamin’ Heifers were darlings of the indie scene. John Peel favourites, they were tipped for greater-than-greatness and their debut ‘Can’t See Camouflage’ led to a frenzy of major label courtship. Four years on, they’ve had a messy divorce with one label, seen another label go bust, and had not one but two band members in rehab. At the same time. Another addition to the long list of ‘difficult second albums’, ‘Balderdash and Bladderwrack’ has remained shelved. Until now. 

“It’s happened. It’s all happened. And there’s still stuff going to happen. What can I say?” Fairhurst slams down his half-empty glass with indignation. “But we’ve made a decent album. More than decent. There’s no songwriter around to rival me at the moment.”
A bold statement, which begs the question: so why is everyone slagging it off? Although I’m the one getting paid to do the interview, it seems one of the locals wants in on the act and beats me to asking it. Fortunately for him there’s a few tables, a bar and a generously-built barman between us. Fairhurst glowers, sups his pint, and proceeds. 

“Cos you’ve all gone soft,” he drawls across the pub in that inimitable Mancunian way, before turning back to reposition my dictaphone. “The trouble is, right, nobody wants decent songs any more. Nobody can be bothered with the art of songwriting. What was the biggest hit last year? The Righteous Brothers, with a song from the Sixties. Kylie, Jason, Craig McLachlan! If I ever hear another Sock, Apron and Waterbasin song it’ll be too soon. They don’t care about the art. It’s too much effort. They’re just after money. Easy money. And don’t get me started on Tina bloody Turner!”

It’s an unfortunate fact of life that an Ivor Novello won’t put food on the table, I suggest. “Well I’d rather starve and be credible. I couldn’t live with myself, living in a mansion paid for by songs like ‘Simply The Best’.”

This seems an unlikely target, and after I have taken a quick sip of Dutch courage I correct him on the title. There’s no ‘simply’, I mumble, edging closer to the door for a quick getaway should the need arise.

“Oh come on!” he explodes. “The whole thing’s simple. Simple music for simple minded people. You’re simply the best, better than all the rest, better than anyone… I mean, it’s just … banal! Banal, emotionless tosh. Anyone can write that - a kid in primary school could write that.”
With hatches almost battened down, I poke the beehive further: what about John Cage’s ‘3’44’? A kid in primary school could have written that, surely? Couldn’t the same be said for Fontana’s slashed canvass or Duchamp’s urinal? Anybody could do that. 

Fairhurst is having none of it, his face now set to explode. “You don’t get it!  That’s art - nobody had thought to do that before, and that’s what makes it so brilliant! Same as Dali … Da Vinci invented helicopters before we had electricity. Van Gogh - look how creative he was! And Cage … It’s imagination! It’s total imagination. So clever: every time you hear it, it sounds different. We can listen to it together and hear it differently. It’s musical art in its highest form. These songwriters now though, churning out generic rubbish. That’s not art. It’s just lazy. A lazy cash-grab. Where’s the imagination in Tina Turner? It’s like a race to the bottom of the barrel.”

That’s a matter of opinion, surely? ‘The Best’ has sold more copies than the entirety of Fairhurst’s entire back catalogue. “There’s no accounting for taste,” he sighs as he swirls the last half inch of ale around his glass. “Simple music for simple-minded people,” he reiterates. 

The arrival of another round of drinks brings a pause to the conversation. A couple of scallies walk past, perform a double-take, and then ask Billy Fairhurst when his new album is coming out. “Two weeks ago,” he says, his tone more bitter than the beer in his glass. At a risk of invoking further ire with my choice of words, I ask how Fairhurst proposes to change the, erm, status quo? How can he get more people to listen to Those Flamin’ Heifers than Tina Turner? 
“Oh, I don’t know … “ he sighs, swigs, and sighs again. “Maybe I’ll just cut my ear off.”  

He’ll definitely hear John Cage differently then.

****

This piece was written for a Watford Writers competition in February 2026, with the theme being 'inspired by a song lyric'. It won second place.

Text and image copyright John Hartley. All rights reserved.

Bookshelves

 

So, Christmas has been and gone, and you’re left with book tokens you don’t know what to buy with or, far, far worse, the dreaded One4All card that allows you to spend in hundreds of different stores but none of which seem to allow you to or have anything remotely worth buying.

This is where I come in.

Maybe.

You see, I’ve got books for sale. Not the ones in the photo above; technically they are mine, because I own them, but they’re not my books.

You can buy my books from any bookshop, online or physical, including Waterstones for whom the One4All card is acceptable. You may need to wait a week or so as they may not be in stock, but you can still buy them. 

But which to buy?

Well. 

‘The Broken Bottle’, ‘How Green Are Your Eyes’ and ‘This Is Not The End’ are a trilogy of books aimed at readers from 12 to adult. Indeed, most of the readers seem to be adults, so you’ll be in good company. They tell the story of Wilf, a teenager in Croalworth, near Manchester, as he goes to school, forms a band, falls in love, gets scammed, gets involved in gun and drug crime, goes to Ireland, searches for an awol alcoholic, stumbles across an arms dump, is befriended by a mysterious girl, meets the most drunk stop/go sign holder in the world, goes home, goes to university, makes some new friends, finds his flatmate is a bit weird and unhinged, finds his bag mistaken for an unattended package by the bomb squad, is the victim of mistaken identity and rings his sister to take him home. 

https://books2read.com/b/3nBzEP

https://books2read.com/b/bPGOPl

https://books2read.com/b/m00DAA

‘Capturing the Wry’ and ‘Welcome To The Underachievers’ are memoirs of my time in actual real bands writing and recording actual real music and playing actual real gigs. Across the two you can read the trails and tribulations of nearly being signed to record labels, the highs and lows of playing in youth clubs, restaurants and universities, and marvel at just how many venues I have played gigs in which have now closed down and become housing developments.

https://books2read.com/b/3LVWp1

https://books2read.com/b/b5JlqO

‘Seasonal Adjustments’ is a poetry anthology. I once wrote a poem that came in the top 0.17% of a national competition, and still didn’t win. But it shows the potential quality, even if it is up to you to decide the actuality of it. ‘Out of Tune’ meanwhile is the cleverly-titled collection of lyrics presented without their tune. Do you see what I did there?

https://books2read.com/b/49LEaw

https://books2read.com/b/b5W5wk

‘The View From Orlando Bridge’ is another memoir, this time about supporting Bolton Wanderers in the 1980s and 1990s. Yes, it’s that bleak.

https://www.lulu.com/shop/john-hartley/the-view-from-orlando-bridge/paperback/product-m5z964.html?srsltid=AfmBOopiLnNATy_RPJS1AEiE2eEbyl3Ghqjk84MvuYSWnweTsQmh8kgm&page=1&pageSize=4

You can get all of these anywhere, really, including Amazon. You can also get signed copies of most of the titles directly from me at www.brokendownrecords.bandcamp.com/merch

So come on, don’t be shy. Spend those vouchers, or just your hard earned cash, and you too can have my books on your bookshelves (but not the ones in the photograph for reasons already established).