I was at Wilko’s 2013 farewell show in Camden and it was extraordinary: one of his encore songs, Bye Bye Johnny – Wilko’s real name was John Wilkinson – saw him sing “bye bye” to the crowd, who then sang “bye bye Johnny” back.
I am about to read Wilko Johnson my play about his life, but I am extremely nervous as a) it’s very much a warts-and-all job, b) Wilko is, as usual, looking very scary indeed and c) I am playing all the parts myself and, perhaps unwisely, am going full Wilko, accent-wise: a vowel-stretching Essex-cum-Cockney drawl.
His friend Charlie Chan, a cancer doctor and part-time photographer, took pictures that night and after studying them, decided Wilko looked suspiciously healthy for a man about to die.
He made an acclaimed album with his old mate Roger Daltrey, played a sold-out farewell tour, and had the honour of presenting Elton John with a GQ magazine “Genius” award, only for Elton to give it back to him, saying: “You’re the fucking genius here, not me.”.
Lee prowled and growled, Wilko jittered and jerked like a demented robot, using his guitar as a machine gun to mow down the audience.
