It's Turner Prize time again. The Turner Prize is often pretty awful, though I did like last year's winner, Grayson Perry, both for his work (which is really rather good) and the fact that he's the oddest transvestite on the planet. Anyway, if you're not from these parts, you'll need filling in - the Turner Prize is a prize awarded to the best British artist of the past year. One of this year's nominees is Jeremy Deller. I want him to win.

This is me with Jeremy at the Tate (sorry, Tate Britain) in 2000. The reason for the awkward stance is that, in the case behind, is Lego Street Preachers, the source of previous acclaim for me. Yes. My name is Steve and I'm an artist. It's official!
Jeremy is into Folk Art, or as he has put it before, "Unpretenticious creativity" (which kinda describes what he thinks of Tracey Emin then), and is very much a curator of things he finds and likes. Lego Street Preachers made it into the Tate Britain exhibition Intelligence: New British Art in 2000. Examples of more Folk Art are at the Folk Archive, which he started with Alan Kane.
I first met Jeremy in 1999, whilst myself and the mysterious Steve B were doing all the ground work for the Manics fan convention that year. Jeremy is a fan, and a fan of the fans, and previously published a book of artwork inspired by the Manics, by their fans. Later that year he was curator of Unconvention, and for the opening weekend Lego Street Preachers were on display, in the coolest perspex cabinet that almost certainly contributed to the closure of the venue due to massive losses. My Lego was within cough's distance of a Francis Bacon. The following summer I got a call from him about the Tate exhibition, and naturally I supplied. The lovely Jayne and I went to the preview night, rubbed shoulders with arty types, and drank some very lovely (and cold) Tate Beer.
So I like him. He's a fascinating man to talk to, incredibly passionate about things, and will happily talk to you if you make the time to talk to him. When I first met him he was wandering around with a dictaphone, and it was obvious that he was on the lookout for anything interesting anywhere, anytime. And he's the best looking man I've ever met, the swine. He was also responsible for Acid Brass, and worked briefly with the KLF when they did ***K The Millennium (the single of which included the Acid Brass version of What Time Is Love).
Since last seeing him then he's done lots, including a re-enactment of a clash in South Yorkshire during the Miner's Strike, and a few things in the US. I'm in no way able to report on these, having just started catching up on him myself, but having Googled all his recent work it's clear his passions for all things grassroots and normal are still his driving force. Suffice to say, if there was a telephone poll number for us plebs to have our say, my bills would be mammoth.
Tomorrow, we find out if he's the establishment's favourite. Can't wait.