by Dynamo
‘Oh, I was booked by the organiser,’ I replied breezily.
‘That’s funny,’ he laughed, ‘because I am the organiser and I don’t remember booking you!’
His name was Dan Albion, but rather than being annoyed with me, he liked the fact I had some balls. I showed him the leaflet I’d put together and he was impressed by that too. Like me, he had had to hustle his way through the industry.
Dan and I stayed in touch and he started to get me a few gigs here and there. Eventually, he told me that he wanted to manage me, but I was a bit reluctant at first. I liked managing myself and I was convinced I needed to be in control of my own destiny. But then he got me a £13,000 booking, doing a tour for Tizer, which was more money than I had ever earned in one go. Dan also had a background in television production and he had a few ideas about how I could approach the making of Underground Magic. I had the magic knowledge, Dan knew how we could produce, promote, distribute and market it. I had a great idea and a vision, Dan had the expertise. He knew how to do what I wanted to achieve. The more I learned about him, the more it made sense.
We’ve worked together ever since. By combining our strengths, we created a killer team. We were like the X-Men!
Shortly after that, I moved down to London and we began shooting Underground Magic. We filmed in Walthamstow, popped up to Birmingham and hustled our way backstage at gigs. We understood that we needed a mixture of footage that would feature people in the street, so the ordinary man, woman or kid could connect, as well as popular people already in the limelight to add even more appeal. We knew the power of ‘celebrity’ would help to make my magic credible. Reaction in magic is everything; without the spectator, magic is nothing.
It was thanks to a friend of ours, Kemi, who used to work for Dan, that we were able to meet major musicians like Snoop Dogg. Kemi had worked with one of the UK’s biggest live promoters and she would hook up me and Dan with tickets. After that, it would be up to us to get ourselves backstage and in front of the band.
Once I got myself into the venue, I’d just have to use my skills to blag us backstage. It was hard work persuading people. It was never as straightforward as showing a security guard a card trick and walking through. There were no Jedi mind tricks at work. It was a mixture of northern charm, magic, a certain sense of fearlessness and the willingness to stand outside in the freezing cold for hours on end, waiting for a friend to send out a friend of a friend with one of their friend’s spare backstage wristbands.
Eventually we got strategic about it. We worked out who the right people were to impress but even then they wouldn’t always go for it. Would we pull this off or would we be kicked out? It was 50/50 at every gig we went to. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.
The first time I met Snoop, we managed to get ourselves into one backstage area at Wembley Arena, but then they cleared everyone out for some reason. All of these huge security guys just appeared and started showing everyone the exit. ‘All right everyone, thanks very much, but it’s home time now.’
Dan nudged me and we dropped behind the crowd of people reluctantly leaving and slipped through a side door. It turned out to be the dressing room of support act M.V.P.. I started doing some magic for the band and, as I did, a girl came in.
‘Snoop’s ready to meet you now,’ she said to the band. They turned and started to walk out of the door. Me and Dan caught each other’s eye and, knowing what the other was thinking, we cheekily joined the line and followed the band. Before we knew it we were behind the red rope of Snoop’s exclusive area of the venue. It was like nothing else I’d ever seen – he had actual palm trees in there and it was absolutely filled with smoke. After they’d been introduced, the lead singer of the support band said to Snoop, ‘You have to see what this guy can do’. Snoop looked over at me. ‘Oh yeah, what’s that then?’ he smiled.
I wasn’t sure how long I would be able to hold his attention for, so I did something very simple – I made a coin appear underneath his watch. He smiled, turned to his laptop, picked a beat and began to freestyle a rap about me. Dan got the camera out, smiling the whole time as Snoop rapped about me. It was so surreal.
before we knew it we were behind the red rope of Snoop’s exclusive area
Dan and I were over the moon. We had our first bit of footage and it was so much more than we could have ever hoped for. We must have checked back about eight times to make sure we’d recorded it, totally paranoid that Dan had forgotten to press ‘record’. It was one of the first times I’d been filmed with a celebrity and that footage turned out to be priceless. We used it everywhere from Underground Magic to my showreel. It was the catalyst I’d been looking for.
BLAGGING SOON BECAME second nature. When I first blagged my way backstage at a Coldplay concert, I knew it would be very tough to get Chris Martin’s attention. He’d just come offstage and was hanging out with his family and friends. Why would he want to be entertained by someone he’d never met? How could I get to him? I had a video camera with me and I knew this could be a great opportunity to get some incredible footage. I just had to work out how to get myself in front of Chris.
Once again, Kemi had hooked us up with tickets to the show as well as some kind of backstage access, though it was nowhere near the dressing rooms. This meant we would have to do a lot of work to break away from the gathered fans, hangers-on and industry people to get to where the real action was.
We tried to take what we thought was a pretty nonchalant stroll through the warren of the backstage corridors, hoping that no one would spot us and say, ‘Oi, what the hell are you two up to?’
As I had suspected, Dan and I couldn’t get anywhere near Chris or the band; there was no way the security were going to let us into their inner sanctum. By chance, we saw an older woman in another room down the corridor from the band’s dressing room. I wandered in there, said ‘Hello’ and showed her some card magic. The woman’s jaw dropped. ‘Chris,’ she shouted, ‘you have to see this.’ Before I knew it, I was being marched down the corridor into the dressing room, with this woman waving her AAA pass at the security.
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Chris, engrossed in a conversation with his band mates and wife, Gwyneth Paltrow.
‘Chris, you really need to see what this magician does,’ she urged. Again, he gently batted her away. ‘Give me a second, Mum, I’m in the middle of something.’
The woman turned out to be Chris Martin’s mum! I’d had no idea at all. His mum all but dragged me under his nose, insisting that Chris check out my magic. Chance had favoured me once again. Eventually, Chris turned his attention towards me. I knew that I had about a five-second window before he’d lose interest, so I performed one quick card levitation and went to leave. But Chris was suddenly on his feet. ‘Wait, wait,’ he insisted, ‘that was amazing, you have to show the band!’ Within seconds, I was surrounded by the whole of Coldplay and Gwyneth. I had a very impressed Chris Martin smiling down at me. ‘F*** me, this kid’s good,’ he grinned.
My heart swelled. We had another piece of killer footage for Underground Magic. Thanks Chris’s mum!
SHOWING SNOOP AND Chris my magic taught me to never give up on a situation – no matter how impossible it might appear. You have to watch for the random opportunities and take them – you don’t know who that woman in a small room away from the main action may turn out to be! The door you open might lead to a friendly support act, willing to help out. It might also bring you to the head of security and before you know it, you’re out on your ear. But hey, you win some, you lose some.
I think the fact that I can do magic certainly puts me at an advantage. Entertainers perform all over the world and by the time they’re famous they’ve seen it all. It’s probably very rare that they witness something that genuinely amazes them. Magic is still only really practised by comparatively few people. If everyone did, it wouldn’t be magic. There are lots of rappers, footballers, singers, actors, but you can only really count on two hands the names o
f magicians who dominate their field. When I meet a rapper or singer, they are usually pleasantly surprised that I’m not another kid trying to get a record deal. I’m just there to perform for them, surprise them, and offer a different perspective on their day. Even for the most jaded of performers, magic can be reinvigorating. They don’t know what I’m going to do, and so they’re even more amazed when I perform some magic and absolutely smash it.
It’s funny that, over the years, I’ve always managed to get introduced to people, but on the whole it all happens very naturally. A lot of people have commented that – I don’t know if this is a weird thing for me to say – I have some sort of magnetism. I think that it’s because I’ve never been someone to want something from other people. I go and perform, but I don’t expect anything in return. I’ve always just wanted to share my gift.
I suppose being a cheeky so-and-so with a fair bit of northern charm, wit and humour doesn’t hurt much either. My nan always said I had a sunny disposition. I’ve always had that little bit of cheekiness about me because I had to, otherwise I’d have been done for on the estate. I definitely picked up the entrepreneurial side from Gramps and possibly my dad. Plus, most of the people I saw around the estate were always hustling a little bit. That spirit of making things happen for yourself has surrounded me for as long as I can remember.
LOOKING BACK, IT feels like quite a journey from being in hospital to making Underground Magic. It was the beginning of my success as a magician: I was featured on the cover of The Guardian Guide, The Sun wrote a feature on me, and, not long after, Channel 4 approached me to make a one-off special, Dynamo’s Estate of Mind, while MTV soon followed suit with Barrio 19 – a programme that showcased street talents around the world.
I honestly don’t know how things would have worked out if I hadn’t had that serious operation. It really was a life-changing moment. Maybe I’d still be doing magic, maybe I wouldn’t. But I do know for certain that being in the hospital filled me with a desire to achieve that hadn’t been there before. I had always been driven, but after hospital I had never been more determined, more focused.
My Crohn’s is a lot more manageable now. I might be in pain every day, but I hardly ever get hospitalised. I used to be in hospital every few weeks, but I haven’t had a flare-up for a couple of years at least. My last downfall was a bag of popcorn at my local cinema. I woke up the next day in devastating pain. Dan rang an ambulance and I was in hospital for two weeks. Since then, touch wood, I haven’t had to go back.
When I’m performing, adrenalin kicks in and masks any pain. The magic takes it away and I forget everything: the pain, discomfort, my worries and troubles. Magic literally makes everything vanish.
In some ways, I feel weirdly thankful for my Crohn’s – it gave me the jolt-start I needed. Given the choice, of course, I’d rather not have it, as I’d love to be able to lead a normal, pain-free life. But dealing with it has given me inner strength and I have never let it hold me back. It gave me the focus to realise that I could do anything I set my mind to. Anything.
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CHAPTER 7
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OUT OF THE REALM OF NORMALITY
AS I STRAIGHTENED my tie, I took a good, long, hard look in the mirror. Staring back at me was a twenty-one-year-old guy with total disbelief in my eyes. ‘How did this happen?’ I thought to myself. It was 2005 and all the effort I’d put into making my Underground Magic DVD had paid off. We had pressed 5,000 copies and within a few weeks each and every one had been sold. Dan got all of his mates to help us pack and post them.
Now, in recognition of my success, I’d been invited to a Prince’s Trust event at Clarence House – the Prince of Wales’ official residence. I was going to meet royalty – Prince Charles – in the flesh. It was unbelievable. Getting ready in the tiny flat in Walthamstow, north-east London, that I was now paying £50 a week to share, I reflected on how life might have been if I’d been born into royalty rather than on an estate.
Ever since I received the loan from The Prince’s Trust, I’ve been heavily involved with a lot of the events they organise. But my first visit to Clarence House, which is where many of the functions are held, will always be my most memorable. When you are invited to Clarence House to meet Prince Charles, you are scrupulously checked over beforehand. At the entrance, you are given a thorough search by big burly guards before you can enter the grounds, then once you’re finally in you get whisked straight to the library.
Built in the early nineteenth century, Clarence House is awe-inspiring. The exterior is all towering pillars and imposing wrought-iron gates. Inside, there are sweeping staircases, a library heaving with books and priceless artworks on the perfectly wallpapered walls. Now that I’ve been more than once, I take the opportunity to notice the finer details. A couple of years ago, Kevin Spacey showed me the first-edition of Shakespeare’s Richard III, while original paintings by British masters like Graham Sutherland and Augustus John are displayed on the walls. The tea is, needless to say, served in the best china.
It’s like going to a museum. I’ve visited Clarence House twice now and I still feel the thrill of exploring such a different environment. But that first time was particularly strange. It was so odd to see all these people socialising in such a formal place – they were drinking, laughing and chatting, and seemed so confident and relaxed. But, Dan and I felt really out of place and quite awkward. This world seemed as familiar to me as life on Mars. My tie was tight around my neck and my suit felt suffocating.
But in some ways, if I didn’t have the background I have, I don’t think I would have appreciated the experience as much as I did. Knowing where I’d come from, and what I’d had to do to get that invitation, made the day even more special. There was little opportunity in Delph Hill. I could have ended up doing nothing with my life, yet here I was, an invited guest at Clarence House.
The best thing about going to a Prince’s Trust event is that you have all of these successful and inspirational people, who are being recognised for their achievements, around you. I’m always interested in meeting new people who have had interesting lives. At Clarence House, you see charity directors, film-makers, musicians, designers, photographers, business people, entrepreneurs and actors. All types of people doing all sorts of things from all walks of life. The first time I went Brian May from Queen was there and, for some reason, when I looked across the room and saw him I was weirdly star-struck.
After milling about for a short while, we were then separated into small groups. After a brief wait, there was a hush as Prince Charles and Camilla made their entrance. They were brought in by an assistant, who then took them around the room and formally introduced them to everyone. I watched as each person had a brief conversation with the royal couple, shook their hands and then they’d move on. They had a lot of people to meet, so you only had a small window of time with the Prince and his wife.
As I anxiously awaited my turn, I realised I had to go to the toilet. Excusing myself, I sped off to the facilities at double speed, not wanting to miss my slot with Charles and Camilla. Thankfully, the toilet was close to the library so I didn’t have too far to go. Afterwards, I found myself wondering if I’d shared the same throne as the Queen!
I got back just in the nick of time – they were talking to the person next in line to me. As they began to move on, nerves rumbled in my belly. This was it, my moment to show Prince Charles how The Trust’s investment had paid off.
The Prince’s aide introduced us to each other. ‘Your Royal Highness,’ I smiled shyly, taking a little bow. There are very proper rules for meeting royalty. When speaking to Prince Charles, you’re supposed to refer to him as ‘Your Royal Highness’ at first, and then ‘Sir’.
We had a chat about where I was from and my background, and from then on I let my magic do the talking.
I asked him to think of a card and once he’d chosen one, I held out the deck in front of me. Slowly, one card began to rise out of the deck unti
l it hung in mid-air. It was Prince Charles’s card.
‘That’s wonderful,’ Charles laughed as Camilla looked on in amazement.
Not wanting to take up too much of their time, I took another bow so that the next person could have their time with the royal couple.
After they’d moved on, I breathed a sigh of relief and walked off across the room to find myself a glass of water. But then, all of a sudden, I heard a very posh, shrill lady’s voice which stopped me in my tracks. ‘Young man,’ it said. For a second I thought someone was about to accuse me of nicking a vase. However, I spun around only to see Camilla, dragging some kids behind her. ‘Wait, wait, you must show these children,’ she pleaded. She was so impressed; she had literally chased me across the library so I could perform some magic for her friend’s kids. I was well and truly stoked. And the kids loved it.
I’ve met Prince Charles about six or seven times now, but I don’t know what he made of me that first time; I’m not sure they’ve had anyone doing magic in a royal residence for over a century, and if they have, I don’t think they would have looked like me. Obviously, I always put on my best suit when I am invited to Clarence House – imagine what my nan would say if I rolled up in my trainers!
Whenever I see Prince Charles now, he’s like, ‘How are you doing, Dynamo? How’s tricks?’ The Prince is actually pretty cool. I don’t know if he’s given last-minute briefings about the people he is meeting, or if it’s just that he’s very up to date with popular culture, but he’s one of the most well-informed people I’ve ever met.
Prince Charles doesn’t seem to have an agenda. When he asked me a question and I gave him an answer, he really listened to what I was saying. He replied with something that was actually relevant to what I was saying. That really surprised me. He took the time and he made me feel special. As well as telling him where I was from, and how I got into magic. I told him about the bullies and Gramps, and how The Prince’s Trust had given me a £2,000 loan to make my first-ever DVD. He didn’t have to listen to all of that – he’s going to be King at some point; he can do what he wants.