Review
Culture
Music
S&U interviews
9 min read

Charm in tunes on the eastern edge

Musician and priest Rev Simpkins discusses how music is an expression of humanity and his faith. An interview with Jonathan Evens.

Jonathan is Team Rector for Wickford and Runwell. He is co-author of The Secret Chord, and writes on the arts.

Standing on a salt marsh beside a wooden pillar, a man holds a banjo upright like a rifle.
Matt Simpkins in his natural habitat.
James Fletcher.

Suffolk-Essex musician, Rev Simpkins, creates music of great imagination and charm, inspired by the history and geography of East Anglia.  

The Reverend Matt Simpkins is the fourth generation of his family to be ordained priest in the Church of England. Prior to ordination, he was a professional musician having been a choral scholar at Oxford University and a Lecturer in Music. He came to musical notoriety through raucous exploits in Fuzzface, Gospel-fiddle duo Sons of Joy, and as a solo artist performing as Rev Simpkins & the Phantom Notes. He collaborated with Kenney Jones of the Small Faces to reconstruct the orchestral parts of their 1968 psychedelic masterpiece Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake

Working as a parish priest a few miles away, Matt came to the saltings to retreat and compose compelling and compassionate songs about his community’s real-life experiences during the pandemic. 

In 2019 a diagnosis of cancer brought an opportunity to make new music and he released the hope-filled album Big Sea in 2020. Written around his initial time of illness, the album is an exuberant celebration of the peaks and troughs of life and death through off-kilter songs about east coast creeks, shattering storms, mystic pelicans and the Colchester martyrs. Shades of Captain Beefheart, Pavement, and the Kinks meld with Evensong choirs and pipe organs, pre-war Gospel Blues, string orchestras, brass bands, and Bert Jansch style fingerpicking. 

Saltings, his acclaimed fourth album and book, was created with the illustrator, Tom Knight, and is a loving portrait of the mystery and beauty of Essex's salt marsh wilderness, and a meditation on the real human cost of the wilderness time of the pandemic. Found within 50 miles of London, the saltings are one of England’s last natural wild spaces. Working as a parish priest a few miles away, Matt came to the saltings to retreat and compose compelling and compassionate songs about his community’s real-life experiences during the pandemic. Saltings portrays hope found amid wilderness. On this album he mixes the colourful folk tradition of Appalachians Mountains with the melodiousness and carefully-observed lyrics of the Kinks. Close harmonies intertwine with banjo, French horn, and bass. 

 

“Zany in parts, moving in others, you’ll be hard pressed to find a more unusual, inspired and profound album this year.”

His most recent album and band, Pissabed Prophet, was born in the resonance field of an MRI machine, as he tried to keep himself sane by mentally harmonising over the deafening noise of a medical scanner. Excited by the potential of the sounds, he recruited Dingus Khan and SuperGlu frontman Ben Brown to help him turn these ideas into an EP. Working over the summer of 2022, the pair formed an immediate intense friendship and working relationship, and ideas for the EP quickly blossomed into an album’s worth of material, overspilling with joyous and ruminative songs, born of an emotionally turbulent time in which Matt underwent unsuccessful immunotherapy for stage 4 cancer. I have previously written that being, “Zany in parts, moving in others, you’ll be hard pressed to find a more unusual, inspired and profound album this year.”  

We meet at Colchester Arts Centre – which self-describes as the little church with the big attitude deep in the heart of Essex - in a room that was once the vestry for St Mary at the Walls Church, now deconsecrated. 

JE: Music and faith seem to have been combined in your upbringing. Can you tell us how that came about and its influence on what you now do? 

MS: Music and faith have been total influences. I am the son, grandson and nephew of Anglican clerics. While I was in my mother’s womb, headphones were placed on the bump and I was played a mix of Boney M (‘Rivers of Babylon’) and Vaughn Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. My parents let me bash at their piano from a very young age. I was allowed to experiment before begging for piano lessons. I sang in church choirs and played the violin for Morris dancers. I was a church organist and played in bands.    

JE: You embraced a range of different styles early on - from choral to rock - with each influencing the other to create your eclectic and distinctive styles. What is it that interests you about crossing boundaries and blending different styles in this way? 

MS: Growing up I didn’t realise there were distinctions and just played whatever there was. I had a delight and fascination with different sorts of music and began to realise that the fundamentals go across all types of music, so that aspects of ‘Penny Lane’ relate to elements of Palestrina and Tallis. Music moves me and, once I understand its working, I can experiment and play with those things. The way I write is similar to writing classical music through the use of counterpoint and harmonic tricks. If you want a dividing line, you have to force it on the music. I’m not interested in dividing lines between music or grace.  

Music is just such a brilliant expression of our humanity and my faith is that all these things have something to do with grace. Christianity is music: the Psalms are the bedrock of Christian faith and worship. All is melded into one. I’m obsessed with the Psalms and the violent mood swings they contain. Their emotional honesty intertwines music and human life with grace. The richness of creation and human experience – for good and ill – mean that I’m not willing to believe that parts of that are somehow untouched by grace and redemption – even our own suffering and sorrow. 

JE: Your work contains a rich vein of humour. What is it about the comedic that meshes with your wider vision? 

MS: At the core of creativity is playfulness. Without playfulness there isn’t seriousness. There is great joy in the creative process and playfulness when recording. Now, I often play together with my son. I’m also thick as thieves with Ben Brown. In the studio we just bounce off each other and egg each other on in adding counterpoint and harmonies. Compositional play is all the way through the creative process and we are playing with sound in the recordings. Forming and shaping songs to sing about real life, brings comfort.      

JE: What impact have the challenges of illness, both personal and social (through the pandemic) had on your work? 

MS: I came back to music because I got ill. After ordination I thought that music was something that formed me but was not part of my ministry. When I first got ill, I found it hard to pray, so I read those ancient songs - the Psalms - as I always have. I became especially interested in the bits people often leave out. We need to see the difficulties that underly the songs but also see the joy like the Psalmist. This is the darkness of grace. Shit happens but grace remains.  

We know that Jesus prayed the Psalms and believe that he takes all human experience up on himself on the cross. So, if I’m having a scary experience like an MRI scan why not think what I might do creatively with that shuddering racket in a song? I take up my experiences in the faith that they have some connection to grace. Human experience and shared experience can result in emotionally dynamic and authentic songs. 

Saltings, I wrote on my own because of lockdown. The songs all came quickly, partly as a coping mechanism in a pressure-cooker environment.   

JE: Your recent albums, though addressing and confronting significant personal and social challenges have remained resolutely positive, upbeat, engaged and wondering. What are the wellspring for these strands in your music? 

MS: I’m trying to give an authentic sense of joy in my music. I find that joy in making music with people I love. We just get together and make music. They know it’s authentic. It’s fun, really fun, and has been incredibly therapeutic. Music is bound up with identity and community and reconnecting with music has been good for my faith. Light and gathering together are part of the Holy Spirit’s personality.  

JE: Your work draws significantly on your locality and its heritage. Why has it been important for you to have that local grounding and inspiration? 

MS: You write about what you know and use music to come close to place. In writing Saltings I was walking over the marshes praying and pondering the amazing history of this area; Eastern England’s connection to the continent and with radical faith and politics. You can’t capture the saltings in photographs, they are Southern England’s last wilderness. Colchester, where we are talking, has also always fascinated me. We are literally sitting on top of amazing remains, a real richness. These places can come alive in music. 

JE: Through music you explore faith in everyday life and as a performer you are on a mainstream label and perform primarily outside of church. Why are these things important to you and what sort of reaction do you get to them? 

MS: The musicians with which I play are seriously good musicians – intelligent and sensitive.  Only a few of them are Christians. We have shared experiences, although I expect faith may not cross their minds. They enjoy playing the music. However, people often ask about faith at gigs or in interviews. These are wonderful ways to bring faith into areas where it might not otherwise be. The venues I often play in have histories of community or religious use, as is the case with this Arts Centre where we are meeting today. 

I want to make music on a label that has all sorts of bands on it because I want to be in the world as a Christian. I don’t like gatherings where I am squirrelled away with people who think the same as me. Not much of the Bible is about being with those who are the same as you.  

I played a Sons of Joy concert – two screeching fiddles playing Gospel and chants – on a lightship and, after the concert, was approached by the owner of Antigen Records. I went back to the label several years after ordination with the recordings that became Big Sea and was very nervous about doing so, but they were very keen. Antigen is a label that has encouraged characterful, inventive music and which is not interested in barriers. There is not a dud release on that label!    

I consider myself to be a thoroughly Anglican Anglican. William Temple, John Donne, George Herbert, as with the Wesley’s, formed me. Temple’s Christian Life and Faith says that where there’s true community, that’s where the Holy Spirit is. 

“If you find something…that promotes true fellowship, there you know the Holy Spirit is at work...It may be that those with whom you join are not themselves Christian…Never mind that.”. 

 Augustine teaches us not to pretend we can know where the boundaries of the City of God sit, as we won’t know where they lie until the End Times. What is the Church for, if we can’t engage with humanity as it is? Part of priestly ministry is to recognise that there are gifts in every person (in and out of church) and to be open to grace, even (or perhaps especially!) when you don’t expect it.  

 

https://revsimpkins.com/ and https://antigenrecords.com/artists/pissabed-prophet/  

A new Pissabed Prophet EP entitled Apple is out in November on Antigen Records. 

Interview
Books
Change
Purpose
S&U interviews
14 min read

The book for those who didn't live happily ever after

Walk in my shoes, invites Mick Fleming

Jean is a consultant working with financial and Christian organisations. She also writes and broadcasts.

A man walks up a cobble street.
Mick Fleming.
BBC News.

Mick Fleming was first arrested at the age of nine. He’s been entangled in crime, addictions, and faced death just a few times. Yet he is now in recovery and is a pastor in his hometown of Burnley. He knows what it means to suffer. His new book Walk In My Shoes explores not just the suffering and pain he experienced but that of others he met on the way. 

Jean Kabasomi sits down with him. 

Jean Kabasomi: You write about your journey in your autobiography, your first book, Blown Away, which outlines your struggles and recovery. Now you’ve released this new book called Walk In My Shoes. Why did you write this book? 

Mick Fleming: I came across so many inspirational people. I found something that was transformative from my pain. I didn't find it from just the good happy times, I just didn’t, and I was coming across people in my life for years and years and years that had had the same sort of pain that I had. I had learned how to tell them that things can change if you can stand this message that somebody gave to me.  

I was becoming quite interested in why do people have to suffer and what is the end of suffering. Every person in the book I know personally, and I've journeyed with them one way or another. So, I wanted to write the book to say this,  

“Look, it's not just me, listen. It's going to hurt. But, you know, there's something at the end. There's something, there's a way through.”  

When I look around in the world, nobody wants to go through pain. They try to step around it. I came to this conclusion, that you can't, it's impossible to avoid pain. It's not possible. You're going to have to go through pain, everybody.  A notion of faith that says, I can take you through the pain, was something that really stood out to me. And then I thought, how does pain turn to love? How is that possible? It's only when you share it.  

And I kind of thought about this Jesus Christ fella who was on this cross, and I thought, wow, he shared his pain, and it turned to love, wow. So, the stories in the book are people sharing the pain and it's turned to love. 

JK: One of the things I found was most striking about the book is the way you intertwine their stories with your own story. Is there a reason for wanting to do that?  

MF: It was something profound for me. It didn't seem profound for me at the time. So, in the first story I find a guy who's unconscious, an addict. His legs are sticking out of these flower beds. I stopped my car. I had someone in the car with me. As I jumped out and ran to see if this guy were alright, my friend came out behind me. I woke the guy up, and he had no shoes. He was really disappointed, because he was still alive. The guy was still alive, but he'd wanted to die, and I put my shoes on his feet. I wasn’t trying to be clever, it was just that he had no shoes.  

I knew I could get back in my car and just drive home and put some new shoes on, because I've got four or five pairs of shoes. That was a real simple transaction. My passenger jumped back into the car, and he just burst into tears. It shocked me, so I asked, 

“What's up? Are you alright?”  

And he said, “I've never seen anything like that in my life.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“You giv’ ‘im your shoes?” 

He then added, “It’s not just giving him your shoes. I don't know. Something has happened to me”. 

That was the fact that we are intertwined together. All our stories are intertwined. So, the title, Walk In My Shoes are my literal shoes - an invitation, but also for me to walk in theirs, as well. Ultimately, if you can do that, and you're walking in a different pair of shoes altogether, aren't you? You're carrying your cross, basically. 

JK: You and I are familiar with the expression carrying your cross. But what does that actually mean? What does that mean in layman's terms? 

MF: So, for me, I'm going to suffer sometimes. Sometimes the load is going to be heavy. But it leads me to a place that's far better than where I have come from. And also, it means that I can't do that alone. I can't do that by myself. I kind of need God. I get courage, it isn't just from other people. The courage is something that's deep down inside me. It's like a spiritual thing, and that's what carrying a cross means to me.  

JK: People who have had similar paths to you, might say that relating with people who are in those same positions might be triggering for them. How do you deal with triggering if there is any triggering?  

If I'm talking to other people, there’s a term that [professionals] use, ‘being trauma informed’, so that you don't re-traumatise people deliberately, with the language that you use. So, I don't do that anyway.  

But I for myself, personally, I'm not triggered by other people's pain or their suffering. I am sort of connected to it. I kind of like being connected to other people's pain, because I'm also connected to the joy as well when they come out of it. I love this saying, if you ever heard it, “You can't have an operation without a few scars.”  So, I think for me personally I don't have any fear or reservations connecting with other people's pain. It doesn't traumatise me. It leads me to joy.  

JK: Another story I found quite interesting was when you went into the private school. There's always a tendency for us to “other” people - these people aren't like me. How have you overcome your biases and what have you learned from that type of othering?  

MF: I'm biased all the time because I come to the table with me. I used to hate rich people, that was as a Christian. I worked out it were because I had nowt.  

I see my bias straight away because I allow myself to. You've got to allow yourself to see it. I ask myself questions. Am I trying to manipulate a person to get something? And if I am, what is it and why? What do I want from that person? But I believe that that is what set me free, and I believe that's a godly thing to do.  

So, I don't pretend anymore. I've been in churches full of pretenders all my life. They don't know that they are pretending. I don't mean it's a deliberate act. I mean not prepared, or they don't understand how to look at their own motive and things. So that's how I deal with it. I look deeply within myself.  I pray and I meditate, and I ask questions all the time, of myself.  

I believe that this power lives in me. I believe it's in me. It's not a distant God that I can’t touch. He's actually with me and in me. Therefore, I go to that, to ask, and it gets revealed, and that's real. What a remarkable thing. My God lives in me. If you grasp that, then you can speak to and experience that. 

JK: You feel that you're called to be passionate but not political if so, where does politics fit in? 

MF: I was with Alistair Campbell last night. Alistair Campbell doesn't believe in God, and he has, maybe, a left-wing agenda that doesn’t line up with my moral Christianity at all, and I was asked the same question. I believe that politicians should be put under pressure by the people that have elected them - under pressure to speak truth.  

Why is it, Mr MP that I'm going to visit a house where a dad's took his own life because he couldn't get adequate mental health support?  

Why is it that I go to a house where the children haven’t been fed for two days because mum's run out of money?  

Why is it that this family are being put out of the house and they're gonna have to go into bed and breakfast? That's going to cost you more than it would to write a debt off.  

These are political questions. I don't believe I'm called to be a politician. I believe that I’m called to be a Christian activist for social justice and restorative justice. But I go beyond that. I don't just think I'm called to do that. I think every Christian should be called to do that.  

JK: Outsiders looking in they may argue that the Church could do more in some of these areas. What can the Church do better, to be a better witness?  

MF: I think take the blinkers off. Understand that the people are the Church. I think understand what the gospel is. Fully understand what the gospel is. If I put 10 drug addicts who are trying to find God but still using drugs in any church in the country, apart from this one, they'll shut your church down. They shut it down because they'll rob you. If that's how you're ministering, you need some lived experience. Lived experience by itself is not enough. It just isn't. It doesn't work. You're just creating a church full of people like yourself and that's an ego trip. That's not how it should be. So, I think the Church needs to look and understand who it's ministering to, who it wants to minister to, where it's called to be, rather than just open your doors and see what happens.  

So, to any other church, do you know that you need the poor, more than they need you? And how does that make you feel? And do you believe that?  

JK: In the book you said the Gospel makes the poor rich and the rich humble

MF: Yeah, 100 per cent. It's a different way, isn't it? Go to the back of the queue and then turn around. Tell me what you see. It's a little bit like that. I think that is what the Church need to do.  

JK: You said that both the haves and the have nots, rich and poor - pray, give and receive, but they all struggle to receive love. Can you talk a little bit more about that? 

MF: My experience has been that you can tell people all day long where they're going wrong and they'll usually take it. They don't like it, but they'll take it. But when you tell them good things about themselves, especially broken people or people from addictive backgrounds or people who've gone through trauma, they just can't take it. They just can't receive the love. It's like they bat it off. If you can't receive that, are you truly receiving the love of God fully into your life and into your heart? I think people need help with that.  

If I can't love myself, how can I love other people? I ask people this a lot, have you ever really felt loved? Really, just be honest.  And a lot of people, the majority anyway, say no. I’ve never allowed [it]. I can give, give, give all day long, but it's far more difficult to receive. The gospel is about receiving because it comes from God, and he wants you to receive it.  

I think that people use fairness as a measure. They can't help it. “It's not fair. That's unjust.”  But fairness doesn't exist. It's a lie. And yet the world uses it to measure things by. Use love as a measure instead and you'll get a better answer to every question that you ask. Do I love that person? Can I be loved? Is it loving and kind to help that person? Or is it not? Not is it fair? I think that's at the crux of the message. The message in the Bible anyway. It's that kind of love. Christians and Muslims and everybody get behind something that doesn't even exist and use it as a measuring stick. Jesus didn't do that. He used love.  We missed the point. 

JK: You seem very rooted and fixed on what you're doing. You get invited to join different conversations and events like Prince William and Princess Catherine’s Carol Service. How do you stay focused? How do you not get distracted?  

MF: Well, I don't have anything, so everything I have, I've given away. There's a mission which is to get this message out. Anything I do around things like that just seems to allow me to speak the message. I used to have really low self-esteem, and I used to think I wasn't worthy, like lots of people do. Or false pride, even. But I don't have that anymore. 

I'm as good as anybody. There's nobody better than me. I'm the same. But it works the other way around as well. I really strongly believe that because I've got this God that lives inside me and he loves me that much. He wants me to go and show him off to other people and I'll go anywhere.  

Bearing in mind, I also sit on the streets, and I go into prisons, hospitals and psychiatric units and lots of other things. But I've also got to go into palaces. Not very often and probably never again! I probably won't get invited back! 

The stuff I do with the media always has a focus. I knock loads of stuff back. Someone wanted me to go on TV to talk about becoming a pastor after being a bad person, and there's somebody else who is a pastor that used to be a stripper. There's not much point doing it because why would I do that? Why do I need to put that on television? It's not going to change a social justice issue. It's not going to lead people to Christ. It was a sensationalist programme. So, I don't do that rubbish. Well, it's rubbish to me. I know it's not to other people.  

To me there has to be a meaning and a reason for anything I'm doing. But also, we don't have any money. People support the work because they see what we do and the lives that get touched and get changed. So, I will do the stuff that shows the work that we do so that people can support us because, people are dying.  

The biggest part of it, is this message transforms and it can transform anybody if they're willing to listen to it. Everybody goes where they feel God's put them. There's no way, I could put myself there. I can't put myself next to Prince William, can I? I'm just a lunatic, you know, a bald headed, ex-addict with sunglasses on.  I can't make that happen.  I can't put myself on BBC or ITV or get a bestselling book. I can't do that. I've only just learned how to properly read and write 10 years ago! 

JK: Stepping right the way back, who would you say this book is for? Who did you have in your mind's eye when you were writing the book? 

MF: I had my friend, the last story of the book. I had him in mind. I can tell you a little bit about him, but it's for people like him, would be the answer.  

The last story of the book is called Just 2 Steps More.  I took him through the 12 steps. He found God and his life transformed. He and his wife were emigrating to Australia. They were going to fly out on the Monday, and I said my farewells to him, put my arms around him and he said, “You'll have to come over.” And I said “Yeah, that's great.” And he rang me on the Friday and aid, “She's collapsed, can you come to the hospital?” I rushed to the hospital. The doctors and the nurse came and said “Oh, I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do for her. She's had a bleed on the brain and it's too big. I stayed. She was on life support, and they turned the life support machine off. 

Now what I'm getting at is the story should have been that they all lived happily ever after, but they didn't. The book is for the ones where they didn't just all live happily ever after because that's a normal life, at one time or another for everybody. I wanted the book to be that. The book is for people that start to understand or who can tell that life isn't fair and don't judge life on fairness. In that instance the healing has come from the love that my friend has got from the tragedy. The people that have come round him and shared and he's sharing himself with other people. That is the transformation in him. So definitely the book is for people that didn't all live happily ever after. 

JK: Did you get pushback from the publisher? Because when it ended abruptly like that, I was like, ‘Wow, the publisher allowed this?’  

MF: Yeah, is the answer. I did. But I wanted it to finish there because it's real life. It's not a fairy tale. That story in particular, I wanted at the end because it's like, “What? Eh?” Because it makes you think it. It resonates and starts to make you think “Is that it?” But then the real question is, what's your “and they all lived happily ever after”?  Because it won't be. It might be today because it was for my friend until something happened. And something will always happen. So, where's God when something happens? That was why I wanted to finish it there. 


Walk In My Shoes is published by SPCK.

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