Have you got a Biro I can borrow?
I seem to have mislaid mine.

No idea where the late Clive James got this lyric from — but it’s a lovely hook for a charming musical mash-up of ballpoint pens, double-decker buses, rubber bands, and Orion’s Belt.

Clive James — the brash Aussie you may remember from his TV shows in the ’80s and ’90s — was also a poet, critic, and essayist. But before fame, he dreamed of being a songwriter.

In the late 1960s, he and composer Pete Atkin began a remarkable collaboration that lasted until Clive’s death in 2019.

Hoping for BBC airplay, they submitted Biro. But because Biro (the original ballpoint pen) was still trademarked in Hungary, the BBC refused to play it.

Could Clive change it to “Have You Got a Ballpoint I Can Borrow?”

“Over my dead body,” said Clive.
“Well,” replied the BBC (sort of), “we can arrange that.” 

So, while the pair kept writing songs — terrific songs —  they never quite got the exposure they deserved.

In later years, Clive joked that Biro should always be sung with a capital “B.”

Listen to ‘Have You Got A Biro I Can Borrow?’ on Spotify: https://tinyurl.com/BiroToBorrow

Charlie Parker on vinyl. A drop of Marlborough’s finest. Perfect — what could possibly go wrong?

In a colourful life, Clive James learned that when things are going swimmingly, a curveball is usually on its way. He captures it beautifully — and wryly — in his lyric for ‘Perfect Moments’

That’s what I love about the lyrics Clive created with composer Pete Atkin. With so much life experience to draw on he could write about anything: Polynesian adventurers, prescient fortune tellers, jaded jazz players… even the fragile bliss of a perfect moment.

Listen to Perfect Moments on Spotify: https://tinyurl.com/PrfctMoments

Can you see Sydney Opera House from Trafalgar Square? Clive James could.

Australia never left him – and it shines through in lyrics like ‘The Way You Are With Me’: a moonlit summer night on Sydney’s North Head, waves crashing, gulls crying.

Wherever I travel, I can pick a down-under accent instantly. As a Kiwi, that’s part of what drew me to the songs Clive James wrote with composer Pete Atkin. Clive’s lyrics speak with a unique antipodean voice – direct, wry and gentle.

Clive and Pete Atkin both had brilliant careers in TV, literature and radio. Over 50 years together they poured their talent and life experience into songs that are thoughtful, surprising and unlike anything else I’ve ever performed.

Listen to ‘The Way You Are With Me’ on Spotify https://tinyurl.com/WayWithMe

Knobbly knees. Wonky knees. Crooked knees. 
Hardly the stuff of romance… unless you’re Clive James. 
Only Clive could make a lyric like “eye to eye and knee to knee” sound achingly tender.

A reflection on lost love, ‘Empty Table’ is one of 200+ songs Clive James created in his 50-year partnership with composer Pete Atkin. I think it’s one of Pete’s finest melodies, and Clive rose to the occasion with a lyric that brilliantly expresses his gift for “turning a phrase until it catches the light”.

It’s not just any empty table; at least, probably not. My partner-in-crime Simon Wallace reckons it points to one particular riverside cafe near London’s Tower Bridge, conveniently close to the flat where Clive famously installed a tango floor….

That’s another story I share in the little show that accompanies these Clive + Pete songs. 

Part music gig, part memoir it’s perfect for small stages, libraries or literary events.

Listen to the poetry Clive found in a pair of knees here: https://tinyurl.com/AnEmptyTable