Anna McPartlin - The One I Love

The first time I heard Jack Lukeman sing we were both teenagers. His voice was as big then as it is now and its something Ill never forget. He was a kid and he could silence a roomful of adults with just one bar of Summertime. Ive witnessed his talent and career unfold over the past twenty years and some of my best times have been hanging out with one or all of the Jack camp. I was there in the beginning, when Jack led the Black Romantics and they played night after night in the Da Club. I took my turn selling the first album Wax during the interval. Once or twice I was roped into carrying gear through the streets of Dublin heading for 38 South Circular Road, which was the Jack base camp for all of the nineties. So many demos were recorded there; so many people lived there on and off, Jack in the back flat, David in the front, Martin upstairs, there was always something going on.Football, EU canned meats, comedy gigs, phone calls to and from America in the middle of the night, drums, bass, vocals, drinking, smoking, laughing. When I think about the nineties I think about 38 SCR and it always makes me smile.

The first time I conceived the smallest kernel of the idea for The One I Love was while standing on a balcony with Martin, looking down at the crowd at a sell-out show. On stage Jack was singing and doing his thing, but it was the crowd that captured my imagination. They were in awe, transfixed and completely silent. I made a joke to Martin that we should set up a church, the Church of Jack, and make some real money. The image stayed with me and over the years, seeing a lot of the same faces come to show after show, the idea of fans becoming friends wouldnt let go. I spoke to Jack, Martin and David about the idea for this book two years ago, and not only were they really supportive but they gave me carte blanche to incorporate all Jacks mat-erial and Im so grateful to them for trusting me not to f**k up. If you read this book and your interest in JackLukeman is piqued, his website is www.jacklukeman.com. I hope you enjoy his music as much as I do.

So to all in the Jack camp, beginning of course with Jack Lukeman, thank you for the songs and the laughter over the past twenty-something years. Martin Clancy, you are and always will be one of my best friends, and Ill be forever grateful for the day you walked into my world. David Constantine, that night in Northumberland Road, me on crutches, the meter out of coins and a lunatic screaming, Ive gone blind that was our Vietnam. I love you, man! Myra Clancy, you rock, and Patricia Clancy, I can honestly say there isnt one of us that you havent mothered at some point: thank you.

Id also like to thank Ken Browne. When my husband introduced us fifteen years ago, Ken was a guitar player in a rock band. We lost contact and didnt see him for years and when we reconnected we discovered that he had transformed into an incredible artist. He, like me, is inspired by music and uses it in his work. Hes energetic with the ability to say more in a minute than some say in a lifetime. Hes deeply passionate about his work and when Im around him he reminds me how lucky we are to be in a position to be creative and to do the things we love doing. (When my pal Enda reads this he will yawn and make an unseemly gesture with his right hand. Apologies, Enda, Im finished; the luvvie has left the room.) I asked Ken if I could pick his brain for this book and I also asked if I could include him, and he was kind enough not only to grant me my wish but also to act excited about it. So, thanks again for yourenthusiasm, exuberance and for the beautiful painting that rests on my sitting-room wall. For anyone who wishes to view the works I mention in the book, his website is www.kenbrowneart.com

OK, luvvie bit over. Id like to thank all my other pals who Ive mentioned in the three other books, my family, and everyone at Penguin, UK and Ireland, especially Patricia Deevy and Michael McLoughlin, Valerie Kerins for being as good a PR agent as she is a friend, and Faith OGrady my ever-patient agent. Id like to thank Rowohlt Germany, Pocket Books USA and Poolbeg Ireland for all their support and hard work on my behalf. Id like to thank my husband for his love, support and kindness, and finally Id like to thank anyone who has taken the time to read these acknowledgements!

Permissions

Jack Lukeman lyrics are reproduced with the permission of Lukeman, Constantine and Clancy.

: Universe (Lukeman, Constantine).

: Fear Is The Key (Lukeman, Clancy); Dont Fall In Love (Lukeman, Constantine); Move On (Lukeman, Constantine); Bedsprings (Lukeman, Constantine, Clancy); and Georgie Boy (Lukeman, Constantine, Clancy).

: You Cant Get Bitter (Lukeman).

: So Far Gone (Lukeman, Constantine, Clancy).

: Authentic Fake (Lukeman).

: Little Man (Lukeman, Constantine) and Edge Of Town (Lukeman, Constantine).

: Chocolate Eyes (Lukeman).

: Numero Uno (Lukeman) and Metropolis Blue (Lukeman, Constantine).

: No Goodbyes (Lukeman, Constantine).

: Lost In Limbo (Lukeman).

: Simple And True (Lukeman, Constantine).

: Open Your Borders (Lukeman).

: Everybodys Drunk (Lukeman, Constantine).

: Ive Been Raining (Lukeman).

: Happy Death (Lukeman, Constantine) and Rooftop Lullaby (Lukeman).

: I Aint Crazy (Lukeman, Constantine).

: Apes & Angels (Lukeman).

For further information on Jack Lukeman please go to: www.jacklukeman.com and for Martin Clancy please go to: www.martinclancy.eu

Universe

Oh nothing lasts for ever ,

you can cry a million rivers ,

you can rage it aint no sin

but it wont change a thing ,

cos nothing lasts for ever .

Jack L, Universe

Tom,

When you are shopping can you pick up the following:

Bread

Milk 2

Water 4

Spaghetti

Mince (lean! Make sure its lean and not the stuff they call lean and charge half price because its not lean. I want lean cut right in front of you and I dont care how much it costs)

Tin of tomatoes

Basil

Garlic

Wine, if you dont still have a case or two in the office and make sure its not Shiraz. Im really sick of Shiraz.

If you want dessert pick something up.

Im meeting Sherri in Dalkey for a quick drink at five. She has the Jack Lukeman tickets so I took money from the kitty to pay for them. Im taking a ticket for you so if you dont want to go text me. Ill be home around seven thirty. Your aunt called, shes thinking about coming to Dublin next weekend. Try and talk her out of it. Im exhausted and cant handle running around after her for forty-eight hours straight. Your aunt is on cocaine. Im not messing. An intervention is needed.

Oh, and washing-up liquid. We badly need washing-up liquid, and will you please call someone to get the dishwasher fixed?

OK, see you later,

Love you,

Alexandra

PS When somebody close to you dies, move seats.

God, I love Jimmy Carr.

Alexandra laughed to herself as she put her note up on the fridge and held it in position with her favourite magnet, which was a fat, grinning pig rubbing his tummy. She was damp and sweaty having run five miles, which was a record and she was extremely pleased. She unclipped her iPod from her tracksuit, placed it on the counter and headed upstairs to the shower. There she sang Rihannas Umbrella, and did a little dance move before washing shampoo out of her hair.

Forty-five minutes later she walked down the stairs with her shoulder-length hair perfectly coiffed. She was wearing black trousers, tucked into her favourite black high-heeled boots, and a fitted black blouse complete with a large bow. She stopped at the hall mirror and applied lipstick, then rooted some gloss out of her handbag and applied that too. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment or two, sighed and mumbled something about Angelina Jolie crapping her pants. She smiled at her own joke while putting on her jacket. She picked up her handbag and went out of the door.