Click here ==>>Simon Napier-Bell.com
and scroll down to the email headed:
TUESDAY FEBRUARY 28 2006
From: Christine Holmes, (etc)
I was thrilled enough to get the return email from him in my inbox, but NEVER expected to be picked for his website. He gets a LOT of emails, yo.
This man Simon, I've admired him for a lot of reasons, even despite (or perhaps because of) his natural and often amusing (to me) tendency to be arrogant, rude and indelicate -- but I've particularly always envied him for being chased and propositioned persistently by Eppy! Of course I'm not gonna tell HIM that!!! *blush*
Here's an excerpt describing their first meeting, on the weekend before Brian died.
I do not envy the fact, however, that this cute episode took place the Sunday before his death, as most of Brian's last-ever phone calls seem to have been made to Simon's answering machine. That's awfully sad, and one just cannot help wondering "what if" Simon had taken him up on his proposition for that fatal weekend...
Nevertheless, simply that I made some contact with him tickles me so much, that he paid attention to li'l ole me, and I didn't get bitten! Ha ha, well, if you don't call being slightly "talked down to" as being bitten. If you've read many of his replies to people, you'd know exactly what I mean!
His lovely air of pomposity is reminiscent of how Eppy himself could be at times.
("One of the Beautiful People...")
Someday soon I should put his chapter about Brian on my journal. It's from the first book of his that I own, You Don't Have To Say You Love Me.
This book is so named because he co-wrote that #1 song recorded by Dusty Springfield.
Here's a review by Julie Burchill of The Spectator, of Simon and his book Black Vinyl White Powder (which I also own):
"There is something of Oscar Wilde about Simon Napier-Bell, and it's not just his name. A man of wealth and taste, capable of great works of art on occasion ('You Don't Have to Say You Love Me' - I rest my case) yet bound by whim of iron to an underworld of crooks, charlatans and cheap, beautiful boys; that is, the music business.
Only someone as scurrilous, suave and simply in there as Napier-Bell could bring to the job the extreme lack of gravitas that it takes to render such a tome as Black Vinyl White Powder. Napier-Bell knows everyone, and he is gloriously rude - usually, these two things don't go together - and it is this extremely rare ability to embrace what he loves even while holding it at arm's length and calculating its worth to the nearest penny that makes Simon Napier-Bell such a giant amongst men, and this book probably the greatest ever written about English pop."
I must now take leave of you good people, although I wish to add more -- the grocery store beckons, and we be out of essentials.