Michael Kerr is an Englishmen. To those who don’t know him he is a tall, dark and handsome stranger, to those of you do, he is tall, dark and handsome. Born in 1981 he started life as a minor and remained one until 1997. It was then that his love/hate relationship with music began. Kerr would often lock himself away for days on end, folk came to marvel at this spectacle, some would flatten sandwiches and pass them under his door, others would simply sit, wait and listen. However, with no toilet in his room, many lost respect for this young maverick who would often shit in his own guitars….
Undeterred by well wishers, Kerr continued to isolate himself from society, his writing became more and more scribbled to the point where he could no longer read. Fearing he could no longer read, he re-appeared from his room and washed himself clean. The crowds slowly dispersed and life returned to normal. It was then that Kerr successfully applied for a steady job with Norwich Union and light began to appear at the end of a long, dark metaphorical tunnel. No longer a social outcast, Kerr re-kindled his life long ambition of becoming a professional songwriter and at the age of 20 he wrote his first song. In his own words it was “sad, melancholy and crap”. After this dreadful set back Kerr returned to solitude and the crowds began to re-appear. However, after 7 hours locked away he opened the door to see a chord book. After learning some chords Kerr frantically began writing songs the next day.
It was on this day that he wrote all of his songs to date. After a 22 hour marathon song writing session (the longest ever known) with no food or water, Kerr finally had three albums worth of original material and swore he would never write again. He hasn’t. But on the back of that fateful day Kerr began to play gigs around his home town, people would often pass out at the end of the night and Kerr took this as a sign of musical brilliance. This only added to his inflating ego and once again problems began to occur for this ‘one day genius’. Kerr would stay outdoors for days on end constantly shouting random slurs at objects or people younger than him. Many thought he was crazy, others just thought he was mad, but one thing was for sure……..he loved cricket. It was the lure of fast bowling that finally brought ‘the one day genius’ back inside four walls and back on the straight and narrow. He picked up his guitar again and continued to live a balanced life, eating well and socialising sensibly. It is here that the story updates itself. You can find Michael in and around the bars/pubs of Leeds, you wont find him in any magazines cause he still has never had a review…………19/09/05
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