by Mick Bonham
Q: There were times when you played on the same bill as Slade, The Move and other local bands?
RG: We played a Flower Power party in a marquee in Balsall Heath with The Move, Ace Kefford from The Move is my nephew. That’s when John took these big plastic flowers and covered his whole kit in them. The audience couldn’t believe it, this big powerful sound coming from behind a mass of flowers.
Q: How long was John with you?
RG: John was with us for about 18 months. He was very extrovert and a real play-up merchant, but always serious about his music. He used to play the band up, one night we were coming home from a gig in the van and John started writing these words on the back of a beer mat, he said “It’s coming to me, it’s started to flow…” as if lyrics to songs just came to him, he really had the bass player on when he wrote down all of the lyrics to The Kinks’ number ‘Waterloo Sunset’, the bass player thought he was a genius and got all excited about this song. We used to rehearse at a recording studio in Birmingham, all John had was his bus fare, so Chris and I would buy him dinner. We would all chip in together. He travelled on the bus because he drove like a maniac, whenever he borrowed his Dad’s van, he would do handbrake skids on the gravel.
Q: Dave Pegg mentioned that you were not asked to return to some places because John played too loud.
RG: Well he was loud, we did the ‘Tyburn House’ one night and the gaffer was really moaning, the gaffers always used to moan, but the audience never did. I got sick of it and I shouted down the mike, “Do you think we’re playing too loud?” And they shouted, “No! No!” John got annoyed and threw his cymbal; it hit the wall and stuck in the brick. I used to say that when John struck up, the barmaid’s knickers hit the optics! He used to do it deliberately, as soon as I bent down to plug a mike in or something, he would whack his snare and send me deaf.
RG: He didn’t have his drums miked up either?
A: No, there was never any need, he had a blue Ludwig Kit that was really loud anyway. It seemed as if he’d get hold of his drum sticks and just attack the drums, but he was totally in control and a solid player.
Q: How do you remember John?
RG: He was a good drummer, when he was young he was one of the nicest people you could have met and we were really good mates. We kept in touch throughout the rest of his life, I remember when Way of Life got a deal with Polydor Records and we were recording at their studios in about 1970. John, Robert Plant and Matthew came to the studio to see how we were doing and wish us luck. We remained friends until the end.
Above
Dave Pegg and John Bonham
DAVE PEGG INTERVIEW 27 OCTOBER 2001
Bass player with Way of Life, later to be a regular member of Fairport Convention.
Q: You have said, you had heard about John before, but when did you meet him?
DP: I met John when I joined Way of Life with Reggie and Chris Jones. He was living in Redditch at the time in a caravan at his parents’ place. I had this purple painted Renault van I bought off Chris’ dad Percy and it wouldn’t have a problem going anywhere except to Redditch. Whenever it went to Redditch the bonnet would lift up. John didn’t drive then, and I used to drive him home after the gigs. There was a hill on the way back to Redditch, and every time we went down it the bonnet would fly up. The first time it happened I thought shit, the lights have gone. I drove him home most nights, and most nights very happy, but probably over the limit.
Q: You had a lot of gear, did you get it all in that Renault?
DP: It was a struggle, but John later got Matt to be roadie and he would drive. At the end of the night we’d get our money (our £15) and Matt would get his share, £3. Then we’d siphon off some petrol to get to the next gig as nobody wanted to part with his cash.
Q: It was reported that John always wanted to push his drums to the front to get noticed. Was that before or after Way Of Life?
DP: I only ever played with John in Way Of Life and he never had to push his drums to the front, because he was so fucking loud the way he played them. It was the loudest drum kit in the world, it was unbelievable. It was the way he tuned the kit, no one else could actually do that to get that bass drum sound, it was phenomenal, you’ve heard it on all the records, a classic drum sound. We only played about 20 gigs, everywhere we could in the Midlands, most of the time we only played the first half because the promoter would tell us we were too loud and would have to go.
Q: You only played 20 gigs?
DP: About 20 altogether and I remember John and me going to collect the money after the tour, from the agents [Carlton John’s] in Wake Green Road. These were the people who run Mother’s Club at the time and we got nothing. Mother’s was the place to play, Johnny Haynes ran the place, a nice guy who went on to have a great studio, but at that time it was very primitive. Johnny told Bonzo he was unrecordable and should go back to hod carrying for a living. The problem was that he was just too loud, and the equipment he’d got could not cope with the bass drum input level on his mixing desk. When John hit the bass drum it was like the heavens had opened.
Q: So why did you break up in the end, was it the lack of venues to play?
DP: We broke up because nobody would book us, as we were too loud. There were some classic examples, like the Top Spot in Ross-On-Wye, they had a traffic light system on stage. Bands used to carry their own PA but only for their vocals, you never amplified the guitars or drums through it. Bonzo only hit his bass drum once, and it immediately went too red, turning the power off. This was before we’d played a number.
Q: When you did split up did you keep in touch with Bonzo?
DP: I became a big Zeppelin fan. I joined Fairport Convention, and John and the guys would come and see us as they were quite into the folksy type thing. Sandy sang on their fourth album (Battle of Evermore). We went to see Zeppelin at the Locarno, Coventry when there was a bomb scare, everyone left the building except Robert, who was saying, “What’s the matter with you all?” They were a great band, and I was pleased John had got a proper job. I remember visiting him at his flat in Dudley, and he was always renovating it. One time it had got oak panelling and gold bathroom fittings, it was like walking around Rackhams. Outside there were his cars parked, and one time his neighbours complained about his Bentley parked there. We lived at Sutton Coldfield at the time with my mum, and remember him coming round in an old Ford Anglia Estate. He gave me a copy of their first Zeppelin album, which I played on my old Dansette (before the days of stereo) and it sounded absolutely fantastic. Then it was come on, we’re off to Welwyn Garden City to see the band. What a great night that was. The next gig I went to see John, he had got a gold Jaguar and Robert had got one too. I thought, what fantastic cars and both were complaining about a bit of noise coming from somewhere. The cars I was used to driving were all noisy.
Q: Knebworth 4 August 1979
DP: Fairport were the opening act and the only act to get paid. We actually got paid for it, which was quite amazing really. Yes Zeppelin got paid but there were a lot of others who didn’t get paid. It was quite scary for us as the opening act, and we were supposed to play for an hour. We decided to play all our up-tempo stuff (we were shitting ourselves) it was a sea of painted faces out there waiting for Zeppelin to go on. After 45 mins we ran out of numbers and Tommy Vance shouted over, “Hey, they’re really liking this, can you do another half an hour?” So we just played them all again, and got away with it ‘cause we got paid.
Q: How would you like to sum up the times spent with John?
DP: Well, he was one of my mates. I have happy memories of John and I never had bad times with him at all. We were good buddies, we had great, great times, and he’s sorely missed. He was never shy of buying a round of drinks, even when he had no money, and would always take his turn to siphon petrol, in fact it was him who taught me how to do it, but the first one he showed me, was diesel.
CHRIS JONES INTERVIEW 6 JANUARY 2002
Guitarist with Way of Life, and brot
her of Reg Jones.
Q: When did you first meet John?
CJ: The first time I saw him was with a young band when he was about 15 years old. The next time was when he came for an audition at the Cedar Club, Birmingham. He was successful and played that night.
Q: I heard that he became close to you, Reg and the family.
CJ: John lived at our house on and off for about two years, and was one of the family, becoming very close to my father. John had a suitcase of clothes he used to carry around to different gigs, but one day he lost it. Dad spoke with him and gave him a wad of cash to get some more. Dad and John were very close, and when Dad died John took the news very badly.
Q: What memories have you got of those early years, with Way of Life? I’d heard he could be eccentric at times.
CJ: Oh yes, he would have some strange ideas. The one gig he turned up with fur all round his drums, boasting to us that they were unique and no one would have drums like these. Problem was it turned out to be his mother’s genuine mink coat, which was her pride and joy.
During his time with us we also did a few gigs with two drummers. The guy was Bugsy Eastwood, who later played with Dave Pegg and John Hill in The Exceptions. John and Bugsy would set up at the front of the stage, they got on very well together and we supported The Kinks at the Plaza, Handsworth.
Q: Dave Pegg told me the story about the speakers you and John made, with the help of Jacko’s [John’s dad] account at the builders merchants.
CJ: John and I built these 4 x 12 speaker cabinets, there were four of them, we built them out of marine ply and covered them with orange vinyl. John’s mate, an upholsterer, got the vinyl, and the other materials we put on Jacko’s account. They were sensational and we struggled to get them on some of the stages with the rest of the gear. Two of them have stood the test of time, and I still have them in my garage.
Q: John always liked to join in vocally in the early days, what do you remember?
CJ: People underestimated the vocal talent of Way of Life in those days. Several times we would have four part harmonies, Danny King had a great voice, and we had a great sound.
Q: When was the last time you saw John?
CJ: The last time I saw John was when he came to The Bromsgrove Baths, two months before he died. We had got a band together called Prima Donna, with a guy called Sean on the drums and Ace Kefford and myself. We invited John on stage and he played with us. That was the last time.
Chapter 5
NO BLOODY DRUM STICKS
“I had a group with Nicky James, an incredible lead singer. But we had so much of the equipment on hire-purchase, we’d get stopped at night on the way back from a gig and they’d take back all of the PA”
– John Bonham
Nicky James 7 May 1991
There are many nights I could tell you about but one in particular comes to mind. John had already been in trouble with his Mum and Dad many times because he kept crashing Jacko’s van. So on this particular night he phoned me and said:
“Nicky, you’ve got to help me.”
“Why?” I said.
“Because my Dad won’t let me have my drums.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve pronged the van again.”
“You idiot,” I said.
“Don’t call me an idiot or I’ll smack you.”
Bless him, he used to smack me regular and we would end up scrapping on the floor. Then we would burst out laughing and go and do the gig. And you know what? It was always a better gig. I promise you, it was a fun thing. Anyway, John said, “Me Dad’s locked the drums in the garden shed.”
“Can’t you get the key?” I asked.
“No, because if I go into the house he’ll know what I’m up to and hide the keys or keep them in his pocket.”
So we devised a little plan. We had this black and maroon Bedford van with side-loading doors, so I pulled up outside the alleyway that led to the garden and met John round the corner. He popped out from behind a tree and we went round to the shed. We clambered up the wall at the side of the shed then I had to lift the roof up just enough so that John could climb inside and pass the drums out of the window. Everything was going to plan until I accidentally stood on the shed and the bottom end started collapsing. We both fell into the shed, landing amongst his drums, covered in dirt and dust. As we scrambled to get out the noise was awful. I was first out, scratched up, clothes ripped and generally covered in shit. John was yelling, “Quick! Grab this,” and started passing the gear to me. He was one of the lucky ones in those days because he had drum cases. His Mum and Dad looked after him well, they idolised the bugger. Anyway, he passed out as much as he could before the lights inevitably came on and someone shouted, “Who’s that? Is that you John?”
‘We were the only band playing so we couldn’t borrow any off another drummer and that’s when I told him he’d have to play with his hands.’
We went running down the alley, banging against the fence and wall, and as we were piling everything into the van we heard a cry of, “Call the police”, so we shot off down the road roaring with laughter at what had happened. When we arrived at the gig, I think it was the Adelphi Ballroom in West Bromwich; John began to unpack his kit, only to find he’d left most of it behind. All he had was a snare drum and stand, a bass drum and pedal but no cymbals, no hi-hat and worst of all, no bloody drumsticks. We were the only band playing so we couldn’t borrow any off another drummer and that’s when I told him he’d have to play with his hands. I’d seen him do it a couple of times before and had asked him if it hurt. “No”, he’d replied. “Actually, when I do this it goes down a storm.” Well this night he’d have to prove it and that is when he started bashing the drum kit with his hands, he played the whole gig just using his hands and fingers and it was the most exciting gig we ever played. The crowd absolutely loved him.
As far as I’m concerned, John Bonham was a true, total showman. We were just a couple of mates having fun and enjoying what we did. We did have the odd scrap too. I remember one night and someone picked on John. I’ve never seen anything like it. He went bananas and within seconds he’d turned round and wiped the floor with the bloke. Then he came back to the stage with a huge grin and said, “That weren’t too bad were it?”
He could be unpredictable though, and after a while, with the Denny Laines and Mike Pinders, the band movement was starting to happen. They were moving away from solo singers with backing bands and the musicians were starting to sing for themselves. So basically I was blown out of the Brum Scene because I was a lead singer of the old style. John went on to do other things.
Looking back, the great thing about the times we had together was that, if we turned up at someone else’s gig, the drummer nearly always asked John to get up and play a few numbers and I would get up and sing. John would play anywhere with anybody. He just loved to play. He lived for gigging and, as history proves, he was to become one of the most successful drummers, if not the most successful rock drummer. There are drummers of outstanding ability out there, but John was the first, the man who did it for everyone. It was more than just talent; there was something spiritual about it, because when music and a musician reaches kids 20 to 30 years later, like John does, it really is something special, like The Beatles. They are targets for aspiring musicians. John was one of those drummers. He set a standard, like Gene Krupa did. He’s amongst the greats.
Chapter 6
BRUM BEAT II
“I swore to Pat that I’d give up drumming when we got married, but every night I’d come home and just sit down at the drums. I’d be miserable if I didn’t.”
– John Bonham
After John split with Nicky James he played with several bands, including Steve Brett and the Mavericks and Pat Wayne and the Beachcombers, but, alas, to no avail. That big break he was looking for still eluded him. Yet whilst his musical career seemed to be at a standstill, his love life was blossoming and he married Pat Phillips on February 19, 1966.
During the next couple of years, whilst the pair hunted for their own home, they spent time living at Pat’s parents’ house on the Priory Estate in Dudley and then our house in Hunt End. After a while they moved into the caravan at the back of the house so they could have some privacy as they raised their baby son, Jason. With a young family to support, John had to turn his hand to finding a proper job and had stints back on the building site for Jacko and also at a wire cordage factory, before ending up at the AEI factory in Birmingham. This latter job he landed thanks to Matt Maloney. Mathew was one of the lucky few that had a van and had been a roadie for his brother Stefan’s band when he met up with John. It wasn’t long before he started working with him; a position he would keep forever.
1967 was a year when music splintered in many different directions. There were the mods zooming about on their Lambretta and Vespa scooters, listening to The Who and the Small Faces but dancing the night away to Northern Soul music at venues like the Twisted Wheel in Manchester and the Surf Side Stop in Brum, being chased around by big strong hairy blokes on bigger, stronger motorbikes trying to kick their arses. Jimi Hendrix and Cream, featuring Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker and Jack Bruce were becoming the biggest names in music, while across the Atlantic the West Coast sound was attracting a large audience with acts like Jefferson Airplane and Love, with their brilliant ‘Forever Changes’ album.
Back in the venues around Brum, Robert Plant had moved from his blues roots and had become an avid fan of the West Coast sound, which persuaded him to form The Band Of Joy and eventually, after two different line-ups, John would join Robert in the third and final line-up. While John had chosen the West Coast sound, I was back at home with backcombed hair and a Lambretta SX150 scooter, getting ready to tour the country getting my arse kicked.