Ugly, lovely, film festival

The graveyard of ambition

I don’t write much about myself on here but I thought I’d make a little exception today. After all, it’s not every day your former landlord makes the Guardian.

In 2001 – 2002 I rented a house, 133 King Edward Road in Swansea, from Binda Singh. The house had once been home to Richie Edwards and Nicky Wire of the Manic Street Preachers when they were students at Swansea University and they were supposed to have painted the huge American flag out front of the house that made it something of a Swansea landmark.

I remember Binda coming round shortly after I’d moved in with a couple of tins of white emulsion asking me to paint over the flag. It was a few days after 9/11 and Binda was worried that the flag would make his property a target. I doubted that Bin Laden was sat in his cave going “Twin Towers; check, Pentagon; check, 133 King Edward Road, Swansea; check” so I left it. Plus, I couldn’t be arsed.

It appears that in the intervening years Binda has become a major figure on the Swansea art scene. Indeed, if the place is anything like it was when I was there, he probably is the Swansea art scene. As befits a man in such a position, a lengthy list of charges have accrued against him.

I cannot comment on the truth of these allegations and I will always have a soft spot for Binda after he hooked our house up with the Lewis vs Tyson fight for free. But I would say this…

One Saturday morning Binda came round to collect the rent. As I handed it over he told me that he had written a script about Dylan Thomas, that it was going to be made into a film, that he wanted me to play Dylan Thomas and that Meryl Streep would be playing my wife.

Do you ever wonder what could have been?

No, me neither.


One thought on “Ugly, lovely, film festival

  1. I had a few interesting ‘chats’ with Binda when I was music editor on the student rag between 1997-1999. He once offered me a “fist fight dear boy” after I accused him of nicking my regular incoming swag of CDs that record labels used to send us (which he was, although it stopped soon afterwards… strange that).

    He was also radio station chief at a time when a number of students (myself included) were involved in the thrill of broadcasting weekly shows to a sea of plenty. Sadly, it took a year for Binda to admit the transmitter was broken and no-one had been broadcasting to anything other than their own ears.

    Ah well, great days…

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