Biography

I was born and bred in Brighton, UK

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Dad hitch hiked from Merseyside, home of the Beatles - to Brighton in the mid 60s and met my mum. She was raised in Brighton too, but half Irish with part Gypsy blood - so I am a bit of a mix thankfully.

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My folks brought us up in a little council flat in Brighton. Sure, they have their rough side, but that grounds you - and toughens you up just enough - and being I was a sensitive kid it was good for me, as it teaches you how to deal with the knocks better later in life. It also had a strong sense of community; a certain kind of belonging.

Also in that little flat was a huge amount of love, a huge amount of eccentricity, quite a bit of madness and just oodles of music. My parents were outlaws in their own way; free thinkers and still are - so the walls echoed with the sounds from the likes of Bob Dylan, Scott Walker, Elvis, The Stones, The Beatles, Donovan, John Martyn and Leonard Cohen. There are too many to mention, but I loved those walls.

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Just one of many things that does makes me proud, is that my parents walked the talk to juxtapose those sounds that they played. Mum was and still is a healer; trained by the Harry Edwards Foundation and sanctuary. She also drew and painted and set up the first peace shop in Brighton with CND in the 80s. She also became friends with Tony Benn; and not through any birth privilege - no aristocracy or such stuff. It was an earned friendship, through their mutual fight for justice and peace.

Dad also painted; bought and sold antiques - and has always had an eye for all things quirky. He knew plenty of Brighton eccentrics just as mum did - and also coached our local football team, which was a royal boon, not to mention hilarious at times. He also took a referee course so he could ref the matches. Let's just say they were colourful times that I appreciate hugely.

Also, above any hardships we encountered - they both loved deeply. They both still do - so I suppose you could say through them and the music - and the plethora of interesting people that ebbed and flowed through our doorway, that's how I learned how to love; but fierce love. Honest love. For love is not all cotton wool, just as war isn't all tanks and bombs - and never should it be.

This though was a time before these days of saturation; when having little to share, little to watch on TV and having to wait for our music to become available in the shops weeks after hearing it on the radio - ironically gave us all lots in common; a sense of something we all shared.

A sense of longing. Then came the appreciation that followed, when at long last we got those things and held them in our hands. Similar to a sense of achievement; maybe from maintaining the patience it needed for so long. But those days were, it seems, aeons apart from these disposable times of late - and not just with things, but with people. When things are so easily attained, and people so readily available, how quickly they can be so easily forgotten - and how deeply sad that is.

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When I was about 5, my mum read me the story of the Little Tin Soldier - and I cried my heart out. It broke me that did. I couldn't believe for one moment they both jumped into the fire at the end; I just didn't realise at the time it was the fire of love. Since then symbology has become a way of life and fairy tales have held more truth for me than this so called reality - with their beautiful dance between shadow and light. It was then I married the pathway of music and writing after being expelled from school at 15. It's not that I do not believe in schools of some sort; just not a prescribed version of something to suit the few, rather than an honest version that will nurture the many. That doesn't sit comfortably with me and never has. My inner mirror told me I had to find myself, not a replica of somebody else - and that took a while. I realised pretty soon I had to surrender and remember, rather than search. My head was in the clouds – yet my feet were firmly rooted in mother earth as well.

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Since those moments - and after a brief spell in the theatre through my teens, I have done nothing work wise but make music, write and paint. It has been my pain, my joy, my teacher and my healer - some days bringing pennies, other days pounds - most days in between; but all days creative in some way - and at all times stinking rich in spirit from the ability to do so. It's the only way I can stay real; living how I feel and doing what I love. To compromise my art would be living a lie for me.

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Since then I have penned 3 books and 300 songs; and many pieces of what some may term art....

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A wild and real journey to you all - and thank you for visiting the site,

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Dan

 

FOOTNOTE: As mentioned above, Danny is also a musician and singer-songwriter – with testimonials from Johnny Cash producer to actor Patrick Bergin and more.

To hear his music please visit him here: www.dannysumbler.co.uk