Picture the scene …… a miserable, freezing, February afternoon, the unforgiving north easterly wind easily penetrating the inadequately thin jacket that purported to be a complete winter wardrobe. A couple of pigeons hopped nonchalantly past the 83 pence and 10 pesetas nestling in the open guitar case, whilst a small group of passing teenage school children mouthed obscenities. Busking a newly arranged twenty six minute acoustic version of Space Ritual in central Nottingham was proving to be a totally unrewarding experience, artistically, and perhaps more importantly, financially. On the point of giving up and returning to the over crowded, damp and unheated squat, I noticed a guy on the other side of the street, seemingly displaying some interest in my unique performance. Claiming to be impressed with the inspired use of the three remaining, rusting strings of my 1973 Woolworth’s hardboard guitar, he introduced himself as a record producer. Now …… I had heard many a cautionary tale of such people, preying on vulnerable fresh faced young men (such as myself), promising fame and fortune, and ultimately delivering nothing (does the Simon Cowell/ Gareth Gates story sound familiar?) Anyway, unlike that Cowell fella, a latent sixth sense told me this guy was alright and could be trusted. It transpired the ‘producers’ name was Ian Watts – allegedly searching for additional musicians to assist with a Children’s Nursery Rhyme project, not exactly Hawkwind, but an opportunity, nonetheless, to spend a few hours in a warm studio with the rather enticing prospect of a hot mug of tea to bring some life back into my raw, numb fingers.
Three hours later, luxuriating in the warmth of the control room of the state of the art Comfy Towers Recording Studio, my initial fears had been allayed. I had just sat through the preliminary mixes of around 70 contemporary arrangements of the Singalongasong Band’s ‘The Nursery Rhyme Collection’. There was simply too much to digest in a single listen; a few imprecise mental notes were all I could muster: Was Nick Miller a real Sergeant Major barking out the parade ground, drill orders on’ The Grand Old Duke of York’? He certainly sounds like one. Likewise, Chris White’s hilarious rural rap on Old MacDonald suggests he may have been gainfully employed on Maggie’s Farm in a previous life. Nautical themes of What Shall We Do with the Grumpy Pirate and The Big Ship Sailed on the Ally Ally Oh were convincingly explored in a modern contemporary style by My Mate Kate, whilst subtle musical references to the Beatles emerged in the opening riffs of The Runaway Train and Allouette. Midway through the playback I was more than a little concerned that my tea had been ’spiked’ with some kind of hallucinogenic substance – how on earth did the Teddy Bears Picnic start life as a take on Alex Harvey’s ‘Delilah’, seamlessly morph into an oompahh mid section, before reverting back to the stripy T shirted Scotsman’s interpretation? And, not content with the mind bending effects of the ‘Teddy Bears Picnic’, the listener is then confronted with some eastern flavoured psychedelia in the wonderful sitar/ ebow translation of London’s Burning. And, did I detect some Status Quo in One Finger One Thumb and a healthy dollop of the Jackson Five’s ‘I want You Back’ in the funky Ten Green Bottles? You bet I did. (I wonder if ‘Ten Green Bottles’ has ever been described as funky before?) But, throughout everything, the gorgeous, soulful voice of Rebecca Leivers remained at the forefront, rendering the more adventurous arrangements of these traditional selections immediately accessible to the younger listener…and what a perfect way of educating today’s younger generation to the popular musical styles of the last 40 years.
Finally, Ian ran the backing track to an as yet incomplete version of Hush Little Baby. Featuring the totally inspired and imaginative piano playing of Rick Benbow, this simple three chord tune was transformed into a jazz inspired odyssey. Handing me a battered old Hofner, (apparently the same model as used by John Lennon in the Beatles Hamburg days), I was asked to ‘do my thing’ over those strange augmented thirteenth piano chords. Incorporating all my best jazz licks, after a couple of false starts the job was done – I even managed to join in the fun of refashioning famous riffs to fit the arrangement – can anyone spot the adaptation of Paul Weller’s ‘Sunflower’ riff behind Peter Kalff’s haunting horn solo?
Postscript: As a result of that fateful meeting I have since renounced life as a street busker, preferring instead to commit my musical talents, (along with fellow Singalongasong Band musicians Chris White, Ian Cunningham and yes, that very ‘producer’, Ian Watts), to the UK’s top Kinks tribute band, The Kinx. The reggae/ madrigal fusion of Silver Machine will just have to wait a little longer.
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