Thursday, August 4, 2022

 THE MIDDLESEX DEMOS

The sequence of events, the years, the dates, and even how I came to find myself in a studio in Hayes, Middlesex, a rather suburban part of London I’d never been to before, is hazy, but I do know that a small-time music publishing company was involved and Stuart Johnson, the man with the recording studio in Hayes, had invited me to record there for free, and something almost professional was now in motion.  1972/73 seems about right, with maybe a bit of early 1974, a time of songwriting transition for me.  The lighter, sweeter vocal style I was using (a remnant of the burst of 70’s songwriters, James Taylor and Jackson Browne being two of my most prominent influences) is still present, but the growling, gruffer sound is showcased, too.  You can hear it creeping in on “Time Bomb Blues” and “I've Got My Soul.”

Noel Brown, a guitarist I’d met after placing an ad in the Melody Maker appears on some tracks here, as well as some musicians provided by Stuart on a few other tracks, including “Watching All The Rainbows Run,” a tune I’d had since 1970, if not before.  I don’t recall the names of those musicians but knew well at the time that they were not going to be backing my songs any further - they really didn’t have what I needed.

In the early 70’s, I would read the ads in MM now and again and wonder if anything came of it: did people ever find the kind of accompaniment they were looking for?  Judging by the ads, I thought it unlikely.  Lots of mentions of “must have own gear and transport,” and “no bread heads” seemed de rigueur in the 70’s, and I expected a motley bunch of no-hopers to respond, if anyone.  I was right.  There was the guy from Crowthorne, Surrey who allegedly played bass and arranged to meet me in a pub near his home called “The Houda Thodit,” at least that’s what it sounded like on the phone at the petrol station in Surrey where I was working part time between weekends in London squats with a loose circle of freaks, which sometimes included a few friends I’d made when I was living and working in Gibraltar.  When I got to the pub, which was actually named “The Who’da Thot it,” I met the scruffy fellow but nothing he said seemed encouraging, so I continued my quest which included a girl from somewhere further out in the wilds who only played about two riffs, both of which were poor impersonations of Paul Kossof, the guitarist from the band Free.  She was followed by a number of phone conversations which didn’t even amount to as much as a meeting in a pub.  The suburbs/country scenario was turning out to be infertile ground for anything more than a dour mix of blues/prog rock played by longhairs in drab denim bell bottom suits, and other non starters.  My work was now a long way away from all that, and I had the shorter hair and tight black jeans to prove it and had left the musical meanderings of the loon pants period in the dust.

OK, then, up to London I went to check out this character Noel Brown, who on the phone at least, sounded vaguely promising.  This is where things changed for the better.  Noel, who sadly passed away recently, was enthused by the tunes I played on our meeting at his London flat where his wife Val kindly brought in a cuppa and a salad for us.  Noel joined in on “Let It Rain,” “Time Bomb Blues” and “I've Got My Soul” as if he already knew them, using dobro or Fender slide guitar.  Very soon after this “Soul Shoes,” “Back To Schooldays” and “Not If It Pleases Me” came along and Noel was in his element on those numbers.  It wasn’t long before he introduced me to some musicians of the calibre of Paul “Bassman” Riley and Paul “Diceman” Bailey who had played in a band I’d actually seen in February 1975 - the Red Hot Chilli Peppers who had appeared at Guildford Civic Hall in my home county of Surrey, a band who were billed with Kokomo and Dr Feelgood on the “Naughty Rhythms” tour, my first exposure to an alleged genre called “pub rock.”  What I saw that night was three bands of varying influences from the past, none of which had anything to do with the still ruling aforementioned long haired denim suit crowd who were still stuck in styles that I considered over and done with.  In further meetings with Noel and the two Paul’s a drummer would join in and we would play around in someone’s back room with some of my tunes like “Time Bomb Blues” and ”Sunny Side Down,” two songs that would not quite cut it with me by the time I got a record deal and recorded “Howlin’ Wind,” but were nevertheless pointing in the right direction.

At some point Paul Riley gave me an introduction to Dave Robinson, an Irish fellow who had a small eight track studio above a pub I’d seen mentioned in the Melody Maker, the Hope & Anchor.  Paul thought I needed to get this thing moving, and I’m eternally grateful for that.  “Robbo” jump started my career at a spectacularly quick clip, and two tunes from our demo sessions were aired on the Charlie Gillett radio show on London Radio, a channel previously unknown to me.  Nigel Grange from Phonogram made immediate contact and I was signed to a major record deal, just like that.

The rest has been well documented, history, as it were, so I’ll let you research that if you don’t know the details from then on.  I’ll leave you here to enjoy a peek at a slice of my formative years, all captured in a studio, in a garden, in Hayes, Middlesex.

GP

Note: the long haired cover photos of me were taken in 1971 before the time these songs were recorded.  Taken at a youth club near Chichester by Tony the Cortina.

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