Rock Family Trees: The British R&B boom of the Sixties

An old BBC documentary on a well-studied subject, but the talking heads here are of a high quality. I've not heard Manfred Mann interviewed before, for instance.

Family: Scene Through the Eye of a Lens

This one ticks a lot of Liberal England boxes.

Family grew out of a band called The Farinas that was formed at Leicester School of Art in 1962. By 1966 they had moved to London, and the following year they recorded Scene Through the Eye of a Lens, their first single.

The track's producer was the American Jimmy Miller, who had previously worked with the Spencer Davis Group and was now working with Steve Winwood's new band Traffic.

Which is why you will find three members of Traffic – Dave Mason, Jim Capaldi and Chris Wood – contributing extra percussion here. And Winwood himself is playing the Mellotron. 

Family's first album, Music in a Doll's House from 1968, was produced by Mason, with the result that the band was obliged to include a song by him that they didn't much like. The rest of Traffic knew how you felt, guys.

I had assumed that this connection with Winwood was why Family's bass player and violinist Ric Grech was asked to join Blind Faith alongside Winwood, Eric Clapton and Ginger Baker.

But Danny Wilson, who later played with Grech and has written about him, tells me that Eric Clapton had been an admirer of his bass playing since his days with the Farinas and it was Clapton's agent who signed him up to the new 'super group'.

Child prodigies: A column for the Journal of Critical Psychology, Counselling and Psychotherapy

Here's another of the discursive Sighcology columns I write for the Journal of Critical Psychology, Counselling and Psychotherapy. 

Chess, cricket, Steve Winwood... it covers several topics dear to this blog's heart.

You can see Aksel Rykkvin as a treble above and as a baritone below.

Prodigious talent

Prodigies aren’t always popular with their elders. When Sir Martin Shee, the president of the Royal Academy of Arts, encountered the nine-year-old John Everett Millais in 1838, he suggested the boy should be sweeping chimneys rather than seeking to train as an artist. 

And sometimes prodigious genius is misunderstood. At a very young age, my favourite musician, Steve Winwood, was turned away by the man round the corner who gave piano lessons. He found that if the boy heard a tune once he could play it from memory, so it was hard to convince him of the point of learning to read music.

Others were more appreciative. In 1959 his elder brother’s jazz group found themselves short of a pianist, so he brought Steve along:

"He was only 11, but he played everything perfectly. They stood with their mouths open. Because he was under age, we had to get him long trousers to make him look older, and even then we'd sneak him in through the pub kitchens. He'd play hidden behind the piano so nobody would know." 

Soon after that Steve was jamming with newly arrived Jamaican musicians in his home city of Birmingham, and then backing some of the greats of American blues: Sonny Boy Williamson, T-Bone Walker, Charlie Foxx, John Lee Hooker, Memphis Slim.

So by the time he joined the Spencer Davis Group at 15, and they had their first number one when he was 17, Winwood was an immensely experienced musician. Something to open the eyes of these new Beatles fans who are convinced there was nothing before the Fab Four and precious little else at the same time as them.

******

The youngest person to play first-class cricket in England was Barney Gibson, who kept wicket for Yorkshire against Durham MCC University in 2011 at the age of 15 years and 27 days. He was also on the books of Leeds United as a goalkeeper.

Most of us heard nothing more of him for a decade. Then an article appeared in a cricket magazine saying Gibson had “chosen enjoyment and freedom” and given up professional sport:

"It wasn’t until I got to the age of 18 that I asked myself: 'Is this what I’m going to be doing forever?'" Gibson recalls. "I think it was just a case of no longer enjoying what I used to wake up looking forward to doing every day."

I hope he is happy, whatever he is doing now.

******

I once attended the first London recital by an 18-year-old Norwegian baritone called Aksel Rykkvin. What was interesting about the event was that a few years before he had been the most celebrated boy treble in the world. For once the American term ‘boy soprano’ seemed justified.

It soon became clear that his wonderful clarity and instinctive understanding of the text had survived his change of voice unscathed. But not every prodigy is lucky or talented enough to pass through puberty with such grace.

Leaving aside the many chess talents lost to a discovery of sex and drugs and rock ‘n roll, a growth spurt can wreak havoc. The future England captain Nasser Hussain grew a foot in a single winter and found he could no longer pitch his leg breaks on a length:

"I went from bowling out Graham Gooch in the indoor school with everyone watching, to hitting the roof of the net or bowling triple-bouncers to deadly silence."

Hussain was able to reinvent himself as a batsman, but always said batting never felt as natural to him as spin bowling had.

And puberty is the great killer of child actors – boys at least. Either you lose your fetching looks and no one casts you, or you keep them and find you are still playing schoolboys when you are 20, with no one seeing you as a possible adult lead.

But maybe being a child actor isn’t much like being an adult actor. Take the case of William Betty, ‘the Young Roscius’, who enjoyed phenomenal success as a boy at the start of the 19th century. His appearance at the Covent Garden Theatre sparked extraordinary scenes:

Shrieks and screams of choking, trampled people were terrible. Fights for places grew; Constables were beaten back; the boxes were invaded. The heat was so fearful that men all but lifeless were lifted and dragged through the boxes into the lobbies which had windows.

Betty announced his retirement at the age of 17, only to spend the rest of his life making comebacks that failed to excite the public. Perhaps the great Sarah Siddons had him right: “My lord, he is a very clever, pretty boy but nothing more.”

******

If I didn’t love the music so much, I might agree there was something ridiculous about white, middle-class British boys playing the blues – “Can blue men play the whites/Or are they hypocrites?” as Viv Stanshall asked. But then I generally prefer to leave dreams of cultural purity to the right.

Besides, it’s widely claimed that the Spencer Davis Group had to film what we’d now call a video before their records could get played on white radio stations in the US. It had been widely assumed there, because of Steve Winwood’s vocals, that the band was black.

Eric Clapton had no doubts about Winwood’s authenticity. Here he his explaining his decision to switch to a Stratocaster guitar:

“Steve Winwood had so much credibility, and when he started playing one, I thought, oh, if he can do it, I can do it.”

Or as Clapton once put it more strongly:

“I’d always worshipped Steve, and whenever he made a move, I would be right on it. I gave great weight to his decisions because to me he was one of the few people in England who had his finger on some kind of universal musical pulse.”

Prodigious talent does encourage such reverence, though personally, when drawn against a chess prodigy, I found myself with a sneaking sympathy for Sir Martin Shee.

JJ Cale: Clyde

Neil Young has said that JJ Cale's guitar playing was a huge influence on him. 

Eric Clapton recorded an album with Cale because "I've never really succeeded in getting a record to sound like him and that's what I want." He also described Cale's music as "a strange hybrid. It's not really blues, it's not really folk or country or rock'n'roll. It's somewhere in the middle."

But it was a songwriter that Cale, who died in 2013, found most success. Lynyrd Skynyrd recorded Call Me the Breeze, while After Midnight and Cocaine have become essential parts of Clapton's repertoire.

He was born John Weldon Cale in 1938, but later styled himself JJ to avoid being confused with John Cale of the Velvet Underground. Clyde is a track from his 1971 album Naturally.

Steve Winwood: Dear Mr Fantasy

Before he ever saw a Hammond organ, Steve Winwood was a brilliant guitarist and jazz pianist. 

Here he is at Eric Clapton's Crossroads Guitar Festival in 2007.

John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers: I'm Your Witchdoctor

In all my excitement at the rise of Talking Pictures TV, I've been guilty of neglecting my first love ITV3.

But I did watch an episode of Heartbeat on ITV3 the other day, and it provided me with this week's music video.

Heartbeat was a police drama set in the Sixties and with a soundtrack to match. Whoever chose the music tended to be literal-minded - Keep on Running by the Spencer Davis Group turned up regularly to accompany someone fleeing the rozzers - but they knew their stuff.

So my episode of Heartbeat this week, which was about a herbalist who was overreaching himself and poaching patients from qualified medical professionals, threw up this track.

I'm Your Witchdoctor was an unsuccessful 1965 single for John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers.

Mayall, who was a hugely important figure in the development of the British blues scene, wrote the song and is the singer.

The guitarist is Eric Clapton, the bass player is John McVie (later of Fleetwood Mac) and the drummer is Hughie Flint (later of McGuinness Flint).

And the producer is someone called Jimmy Page.

Andrew Hickey says somewhere that in order to make British blues work, you needed an outstanding singer. 

Maybe Mayall, who is still with us and was recording up to a few years ago, wasn't that, but as a spotter and encourager of talent, he was unrivalled.

Steve Winwood: Night Train

It's strange how some music dates and some doesn't. You still hear the Spencer Davis Group singles Gimme Some Lovin' and I'm a Man in television commercials, and they're used to convey modernity rather than nostalgia.

By contrast, Steve Winwood's Eighties records now sound dated. Winwood has said himself that he was still doing what he had done in Traffic - combining folk and rock and blues and jazz - but the production of the day gave those Eighties records a surface gloss that has not aged well.

Arc of a Diver was Winwood's second solo album and the one that established him as a solo star - it sold more in the United States 

The title track has magic for me, because the lyrics are by Viv Stanshall, but Night Train is more representative. What I like about it is that it features Winwood as a guitarist - he played all the instruments on Night Train.

This reminds me of a story I read online recently. An American remembered watching some Eric Clapton's Crossroads guitar festival on television, but missing the name of the brilliant guitarist he'd been listening to.

He found out a few days later that it had been Steve Winwood - that guy all of whose records his Mom had and who he hated.

The Joy of Six 1083

Peter Geoghegan shows how the European Research Group became a tightly organised "party within a party" that set the UK on course for a no-deal Brexit.

"People are not stupid. They can laugh at all kinds of things without taking it home and into reality. I perform in front of generally intelligent audiences, and they get the stuff. They don’t go home and smash things up, do they?" Jerry Sadowitz talks to the Guardian about being the experience of being cancelled by his Edinburgh fringe venue.

"Homer, a high-school graduate whose union job at the nuclear-power plant required little technical skill, supported a family of five. A home, a car, food, regular doctor’s appointments, and enough left over for plenty of beer at the local bar were all attainable on a single working-class salary." Dani Alexis Ryskamp argues that the existence enjoyed by the Simpsons when the series launched in 1989 is now out of the reach of many Americans.

"From 1979 to 1985, Norwich was home to the largest squat in Europe: the Argyle Street Alternative Republic ... Around 60 terraced council houses were occupied by hippies, bikers, Bolsheviks, and wanderers of every stripe." Damien, a former resident of the Republic, remembers how it was broken up by the authorities.

Rachel Cook celebrates the reopening of Leighton House in Holland Park, the home of the Victorian painter Frederic Leighton.

Graham McCann surveys the rise and fall of Don Estelle: "There he was, one of the stars of a BBC sitcom that was attracting audiences of up to 17 million viewers, as well as sharing the spotlight on multiple editions of Top of the Pops with the likes of Paul McCartney and Wings, the Bay City Rollers, 10cc, Art Garfunkel, Barry White and Eric Clapton, and making lucrative personal appearances all over the country, often in the company of his co-star and musical sidekick, Windsor Davies."

Mick Jagger in the Shropshire Hills

Over towards the Stiperstones, the Shropshire Hills are full of stories that you could once enter a pub there and find rock and roll royalty, drawn by Ronnie Lane's studio there, giving an impromptu concert.

I once helped a BBC journalist pin down the truth of one of these stories: Lane and Eric Clapton played the Drum and Monkey pub (now named Abel's Harp) in March 1977.

And on Christmas Day last year an anonymous comment on a post here placed Mick Jagger in these hills too:

I spent three summers in the mid 70's living at the More Arms for my holidays. My uncle Alvin Evans from Pontesbury, was the landlord there with his wife Diane. It all ended sadly I think. But I did serve at the fuel pumps each day to earn my keep, to the right hand side of the pub as you looked from the road. I had great memories of these time youthful Rose tinted glasses. Carefree.. 

My family had Christmas there too one year, when we came across from Birmingham and met up with my Aunt Vera Evans and uncle Bill at Alvin's pub at the More Arms. Great times I recall. I met Ronnie Lane and his wife. 

Ronnie was a lovely guy, very kind, quite quiet. I got on with him well. He gave me an acoustic guitar he had with him one evening. He left me and my brother some months later x2 tickets at the box office to see a concert of his new band Slim Chance. Don't think I ever saw him again. 

His wife, a lovely, lively type of Bohemian lady, used to dance in the main bar and Ronnie and her came into the back kitchen for a few drinks after closing time with Alvin and Diane and me on more than one occasion. 

Eric Clapton did indeed come in and so did Mick Jagger. They used to use/record at Ronnie's (mobile) studios I think down in Ronnie's farm that he'd bought locally. Though I don't know exactly where.

Later on Twitter....

Jagger and Marianne Faithful are rumoured to have visited Longnor hall with a view to buying it in the 1970’s.
There are allegedly carvings of Mick on a building in Shrewsbury.
The Rolling Stones also played in Shropshire of course 😉😉

— shroppiemon (@shroppiemon) February 13, 2022

Taken from the sebunctious Memories of Shropshire Facebook group with permission of photographer Vito Pacini pic.twitter.com/sMFTAj8ZMB

— shroppiemon (@shroppiemon) February 14, 2022

The Joy of Six 1027

"History must have been in the mood to make things pretty obvious for once, since it has given us the most perfect mathematical example of how, and how not, to deal with loud-mouthed populism. In 2017, the AfD won 12.6% of the national vote. That is, of course, exactly the same as Ukip won here in 2015. And look now at the tale of these two conservative parties." James Hawes pays tribute to Angela Merkel. 

Ella Glover reviews a new book that makes the case for reducing the working week.

"From its inception, eugenics was a political creed, but one that was wedded to a science that was immature and frequently wrong. Ultimately, in the US, forced sterilization primarily targeted the poor and those with disabilities and was deployed against African Americans, Indigenous Americans, and other marginalized groups." Adam Rutherford offers a cautionary history of eugenics.

Twenty-five years ago cricket got rid of the men in blazers: now, argues Barney Ronay, it's time to get rid of the suits of the England and Wales Cricket Board.

A.J. Black finds a strand of horror in the comedy of One Foot in the Grave.

"From loyal band man to solo hitmaker and philanthropist, from cherished friend and collaborator of the Winwoods, Claptons and Harrisons to award-winning songwriter, Jim Capaldi was a man of many roles. He starred in many of them, but that was never the point. Music itself sustained him, all the way until his sadly premature death at the age of 60, in 2005." Paul Sexton pays tribute to Traffic's drummer and Steve Winwood's songwriting partner.

Lord Bonkers' Diary: The noted East End gangster and philanthropist

When I came across this entry in the old boy's diary, with its characteristic interest in Evan Harris's long-running feud with the local peasantry and Eric Clapton's tribute to Layla Moran, I naturally assumed he was back to normal - using the term in its widest sense.

The noted East End gangster and philanthropist

After Sarah Greene’s victory I spent my days wandering the Oxfordshire countryside like the poet Arnold’s Scholar-Gipsy. I found the charred remains of the castle once occupied by Dr Evan Harris in the surprisingly mountainous country east of Abingdon – I fear those peasants with their pitchforks and flaming torches did for him in the end. I also met our own Layla Moran and played her the song composed in her honour by Eric Clapton. I employed the banjulele that I had carried with me all the way from Oakham.

At Sutton Courtenay I visited the graves of George Orwell – the only decent Blair the Socialists ever came up with – and H.H. Asquith. I was pleased to note that the latter resting place was decorated with floral tributes from his close relation, the noted East End gangster and philanthropist Violent Bonham Carter.

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West. 1906-10.

Previously in Lord Bonkers' Diary

• Meadowcroft was heard to blow his nose loudly
• "We shall travel by the old roads"
• The beechwoods of the Chilterns
• Mounted elves and vegans
• "You should have stood down in more seats"

Steve Winwood: (I'm a) Road Runner

Chris Welch's biography of Steve Winwood - titled Keep on Running in the UK and Roll With it in the US - identifies the Albert Hall concert organised by Ronnie Laine in aid of the multiple sclerosis charity ARMS as an important step of his re-emergence as a solo artist in the 1980s:

The first signs of Winwood stepping back into the spotlight and the high life came when he toured with his new band for the first time in 1983. Later he appeared on the unique ARMS charity shows  held in the autumn of that year.

Maybe he was stung by critics who had described his career as "low key and patchy" or perhaps he sensed that the years were slipping away. At any rate when Steve played the ARMS shows he gave an impressive display of confidence that had not been seen since The Spencer Davis Group days, but had slowly evaporated into self-effacement during he years hiding behind a massive Hammond organ with Traffic.

The line up that night was extraordinary, including all three Yardbirds guitarists - Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page - but Welch reckons:

While the crowds rose to their feet to pay homage to legendary figures back in action, the more discerning noted that the best, most accomplished performance came from a still youthful Steve Winwood, upstaging his elders, just as he had in the sixties!

(I'm a) Road Runner was originally a hit for Junior Walker and the Allstars. Winwood's own Roll With It bears a resemblance to it - so much so that the Motown songwriters Holland-Dozier-Holland now have a writing credit on Winwood's song.

The Beatles: Penny Lane

When I was 13 I coveted the two Beatles compilations 1962-1966 and 1967-1970 but could not afford them. Since then my enthusiasm for the loveable moptops has waned.

I have been choosing these Sunday music videos since 2007, yet The Beatles have been represented only by two cover versions (from Laibach and The Jam)  and the atypical While My Guitar Gently Weeps, which was written by George Harrison and features Eric Clapton on guitar.

My problem with The Beatles is rather like my problem with Mozart in the classical sphere: I can see they are good, but there are half a dozen Sixties bands that I find at least as interesting.

And I do remember The Beatles from their first time around. Born in 1960, I cannot recall a time when I did not know She Loves You and I Want to Hold Your Hand, though I doubt if I remember them from 1963 when they both topped the charts.

I certainly remember liking Eleanor Rigby and Penny Lane, which were in the charts when I was six.

And the record that reminds me of the first Summer of Love, alongside Up, Up and Away by the Johnny Mann Singers, is All You Need is Love.

So here is Penny Lane. It still sounds good, but maybe not quite as good as I hoped.

Steve Winwood, Eric Clapton and Niall Rogers pay their tribute to Ginger Baker

Last night a concert was held to honour the memory of the great rock drummer Ginger Baker.

Here Steve Winwood, Eric Clapton and Niall Rogers play Can't Find My Way Home, the song Winwood wrote for the short-lived super group Blind Faith.

Baker, Winwood and Clapton formed Blind Faith along with Rich Grech from the Leicester band Family.

Ginger Baker (1939-2019)

Ginger Baker, the nomination of many as the greatest rock drummer, died yesterday at the age of 80. He was best known from his time with the original supergroup Cream.

The tribute from Steve Winwood - "Beneath his somewhat abrasive exterior, there was a very sensitive human being with a heart of gold" - gives a clue as to the difficulties many found in working with Baker.

Winwood and Baker, along with Eric Clapton and Leicester's Rick Grech - were members of another supergroup - the short-lived Blind Faith. Here they are at their debut concert in Hyde Park in 1969

Do What You Like was written by Baker and so contains the obligatory drum solo.

The Beatles: While My Guitar Gently Weeps

I saw a comment on Twitter about Richard Curtis's new film Yesterday, which imagines a world in which the Beatles have not existed.

The comment said something to the effect that this world would be terrible, because all the music would be like Cliff Richard.

That, of course, nonsense. There were plenty of other British bands influenced by Black American rhythm and blues in the early 1960s, and plenty of them made the same move to psychedelic music later in the decade.

I have a problem with The Beatles - and not just that their name is a lame pun. I can see they are good, but as with Mozart in classical music, I can't see why they are better than other people who were around at the time. That reaction to the film was somehow typical of the reverence with which The Beatles are treated.

Maybe it is Brian Epstein's styling, which is part of what made them pre-eminent by giving them family appeal, that puts me off them now. But whatever the reason, I have only chosen cover versions of their songs - by The Jam and Laibach - on this blog.

But here is a Beatles song, but one with a difference. It is written by George Harrison, not Lennon and McCartney, and Eric Clapton plays the guitar solo.

Harrison later explained how this came about:

We tried to record it, but John and Paul were so used to just cranking out their tunes that it was very difficult at times to get serious and record one of mine. It wasn't happening. They weren't taking it seriously and I don't think they were even all playing on it, and so I went home that night thinking, 'Well, that's a shame,' because I knew the song was pretty good. 

The next day I was driving into London with Eric Clapton, and I said, "What are you doing today? Why don't you come to the studio and play on this song for me?" He said, "Oh, no – I can't do that. Nobody's ever played on a Beatles record and the others wouldn't like it." I said, "Look, it's my song and I'd like you to play on it."

So he came in. I said, "Eric's going to play on this one," and it was good because that then made everyone act better. Paul got on the piano and played a nice intro and they all took it more seriously.

When British musicians played with the American blues greats

This is an excerpt from Red, White and Blues, which is a 2005 documentary by Mike Figgis on the British blues scene of the 1960s.

It features clips from interviews with John Mayall, Georgie Fame, Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood.

Steve Winwood, born in 1948, was a young teenager when he played with the American blues greats.

In his biography of Winwood, Chris Welch writes:

In 1963 when the Spencer Davis Group were still semi-pro they had already played with Sonny Boy Williamson, Memphis Slim, Jimmy Witherspoon, Champion Jack Dupree, and Charlie and Inez Fox.

You can see a photo of T-Bone Walker playing in what is now a Leicester branch of Sainsbury's on this blog.

Rod Argent on Steve Winwood

Classic Rock magazine asked Rod Argent (of The Zombies and, er, Argent) to choose the 10 records that changed his life.

After choosing Elvis and the Beatles, he said:

Spencer Davis Group - Georgia On My Mind 

"I can't overestimate the effect that Stevie Winwood's amazing voice had, and his wonderful soulful piano and organ playing. He came out of nowhere and blew people away. I remember Paul Jones [Manfred Mann singer] saying, 'I've been in a blues band for four years, and suddenly this 17-year-old-kid comes out and he sounds like Ray Charles, and he plays like him!' What a talent: to emerge fully-formed at that age was extraordinary, and it had a huge effect on every musician around that time."

I am reminded of the reason Eric Clapton gave for playing a Stratocaster:

Hank Marvin was the first well known person over here in England who was using one, but that wasn't really my kind of music. Steve Winwood had so much credibility, and when he started playing one, I thought, oh, if he can do it, I can do it.

The version of Georgia on My Mind that Argent chooses is not the live one with Winwood on the organ that I always listen to, but this studio version where he is playing the piano.

Which reminds me of his older brother Muff talking about the young Steve:

"We needed a piano player so I brought Steve along. He was only 11, but he played everything perfectly. They stood with their mouths open. 

Because he was under-age, we had to get him long trousers to make him look older, and even then we'd sneak him in through the pub kitchens. He'd play hidden behind the piano so nobody would know."

Steve Benbow and Tommy Eytle

My programme for Cinderella, the 1966 Christmas Panto at the Palace Theatre, Watford, had advertisements too.

Shortly after it arrived I tweeted this one with the words "#Watford nightlife 1966 style".

That turned out to be rather Emily Thornberry tweet, because Steve Benbow (1931-2006) and Tommy Eytle (1926-2007) were both considerable figures.

Benbow's Guardian obituary said he was:

an inspiration to younger players. Davy Graham, whose guitar style affected those of Eric Clapton and Paul Simon, credits him as a primary influence: Benbow introduced him to Moroccan music he had heard while in the forces. Graham told the Guardian last year: "What he taught me was that you should never get stuck in one mode or style."

Eytle's Guardian obituary records that he:

played various society venues such as Esmeralda's Barn, a haunt of the Knightsbridge smart set, eventually taken over by the Krays. His irrepressible act was caught on film in two sequences from The Tommy Steele Story (1957) - with double bassist Chris O'Brien in a Caribbean setting, then fronting his own band on the London stage.

He late turned to acting and was best known for playing Jules Tavernier in EastEnders.

His older brother, Ernest Eytle, was the first West Indian summariser to broadcast on their tests in England for the BBC. They were both friends of Ken 'Snakehips' Johnson.

Bromlow Callow close up

One of the landmarks of the Shropshire hills is Bromlow Callow. The trees that crest this hill can be seen for miles, though this photograph shows them close up.

Bromlow Callow stands to the west of the Stiperstones - close to the pub where Eric Clapton and Ronnie Lane once played.