by Mick Bonham
‘We watched in awe as he played his guitar behind his head, with his teeth, between his legs, lying on the floor and then setting fire to it and smashing it!’
On a brighter note, while John and Pat lived in the caravan I would spend many nights sitting up with Pat waiting for John to get back from a gig, and it was during this time that I was to meet and become close friends with Beryl, Pat’s sister, and Ros Beresford, a bubbly blonde haired girl who was so much fun to be with. On 27 May, after a gig at the Black Horse in Northfield, everybody had gone back to Ros’ house for an all night party. You know, the one where the bloke had my orange jacket on! Leaving there at 10.30am the following morning, I met up with the lads and then in a convoy of 12 scooters, we set off on what was to be one of the first major rock concerts. Early on the morning of 29 May we rode into the picturesque market town of Spalding in Lincolnshire. Set in the heart of the bulb growing fields of Eastern England, we were met by the sight of thousands of people congregating outside one of the vast bulb auction halls. The crowd was made up mainly of mods, with a sprinkling of rockers. For one night that small country town became a boiling cauldron of loud music. Geno Washington and the Ram Jam Band warmed up the audience, followed by Brum’s own The Move, through to the power of Cream, culminating with the Jimi Hendrix Experience, an act that simply could not be followed.
We watched in awe as he played his guitar behind his head, with his teeth, between his legs, lying on the floor and then setting fire to it and smashing it! Then, as he walked off stage he pushed all the speaker cabs over and disappeared off the stage. I had never witnessed anything like it because, until now the only major gig I’d seen was when my Mum took me to see The Beatles in 1964. After a good night’s sleep in the local bus shelter it was back home to relay what I had seen to John.
Above
Jimi Hendrix
Other notable dates of that year were 9 June where, whilst performing at the Cofton Club, John was reprimanded by the manager for playing too loud. John’s response? “Loud! I’ll show you loud. You won’t need to pull another beer, it will just flow out of the taps with the vibration!” Another venue crossed off the gig list! Then, on the 17th he played at Handsworth Plaza as support to The Kinks. But to me the funniest gig was when The Band of Joy played Queen Mary Ballroom in Dudley. One of the cover versions they played was Tim Hardin’s ‘If I Were a Carpenter’. But unlike the original, their version built up steadily into a powerful crescendo, and it was during the final few bars of the song, as Robert sang out “Marry me, Marry me” he wrapped his legs round one of the pillars at the side of the stage and emulated, what to all intents and purposes, was a knee trembler. That was the final straw for Mum, who had been watching the show. With her handbag hanging from her arm she approached the stage and above the applause you could hear, “John! You get off those drums right now! You’re not playing with that boy, he’s a pervert!” Not long after this incident The Band of Joy toured the north of England and Scotland, this time John was playing alongside his old mate John Hill, who had joined the band for the tour.
Before he went, John told Pat that if things didn’t get better with this tour he would sell his drums and take up a proper job again. Things did not get better, so John returned home and began cleaning his kit in preparation to sell it.
Chapter 7
THROUGH ROSE COLOURED GLASSES
“It really started to happen when I was with Tim Rose. I was doing OK and I was getting offers. Joe Cocker was interested, so was Chris Farlowe and Robert and Jimmy. It was baffling. I had to consider so much. It wasn’t just a question of who had the best prospects, but which was going to do the right kind of stuff.”
– John Bonham (interviewed in 1973)
Unknown to John, as he sat despondently cleaning his drums, certain people were scouring the area trying to find him. Although he thought that the last tour had brought no success, little did he know that he’d been spotted supporting an American artist in a ballroom in Nelson, Lancashire.
The artist in question was Tim Rose, who was enjoying much critical acclaim with two hit singles and a big selling album. The first single was ‘Hey Joe’, released in 1966, a slow moody tune which would later inspire a Jimi Hendrix classic. The second was, for me, the single that really stood out from other records of the time. ‘Morning Dew’, written by Rose and Bonnie Dobson, became a classic in its own right. Tim’s professional career had started in the early 60s, playing guitar with The Journeymen, alongside John Phillips and Scott McKenzie before moving on to join Cass Elliott and James Hendricks in The Big Three. Tim forged his solo career when they split in 1964.
Over the years there have been many accounts on how John had joined up with Tim, so I needed to find out the true story. My only problem was that I hadn’t seen Tim for nearly thirty years and hadn’t a clue where to look, that was until I was doing some research for the book in my sister Debbie’s office/studio in London. Someone using the studio said Tim was living in London and could find out his telephone number and within the hour I had the number. With trepidation I dialed the number, but all my fears disappeared when Tim answered the phone. His enthusiasm for this book overwhelmed me and I felt really chuffed.
While we chatted, he explained that he was to be presented with a special guitar the next day, at a well known guitar shop in Denmark Street in the West End, called ‘Hank’s Guitars’ and would I like to join him for a chat and a glass of wine.
As soon as it was known I was off to a guitar shop, I was to be accompanied by a very good friend of mine, Pete ‘Guitar’ Bullick. Pete was my sister Debbie’s guitarist and Fiancé and they had just started recording Debbie’s album ‘The Old Hyde’ so he was up for looking at some new guitars. The shop was heaving when we arrived, so after a couple of glasses of wine it was decided that we would meet in a café in Dean Street the following day at 3.00pm.
The next day I met Tim in the café as agreed, and what follows is Tim’s recollection of his tour with our John.
Tim Rose
“I had been using a very fine drummer by the name of Aynsley Dunbar, who had learnt his trade with The Mojos, Jeff Beck and John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, when I toured the UK prior to meeting John. Aynsley was unavailable for the 1968 tour, but I remembered seeing a drummer playing with Band Of Joy and thinking ‘I want him’. I eventually found John and offered him the job, paying about £40 per week.”
I remember John thinking it was the break he had been waiting for, because back then, one pound would get you about eight beers, a bag of chips and you’d still have enough for the bus fare home. For a young married man with a wife and child to support, this was big money.
The line-up for Tim’s band featured Steve Dolan on bass, John on drums and Tim on guitar and vocals. With only a short while before the tour was due to start, the band got down to the business of rehearsing. Tim recalls that John’s drumming reminded him of Mitch Mitchell from Jimi Hendrix’s band. John attempted to impress his new paymaster with additional fancy fills, but Tim told him, “Don’t worry John, you’ve already got the job. Just keep it straight and powerful.” Once the set was up to scratch the tour started in June 1968 and the set drew some good reviews. Tony Wilson of the Melody Maker, reported:
“If anyone comes close to the rather vague definition ‘Folk Rock’ it must be Tim Rose. Powerful singing backed by his own electric, augmented by bass and drums on folk based numbers such as ‘Morning Dew’, ‘Long Time Man’ and ‘Hey Joe’ provided a stirring session at Blaises in London last Sunday. These heavy, soulful numbers were balanced by lighter songs such as ‘Hello Sunshine’ and a five string banjo number ‘Foggy Mountain Breakdown’ which gave a chance for drummer John Bonham and bass guitarist Steve Dolan to take solos.”
With Tim welding the whole thing together with some witty introductions, this was a good evening’s entertainment that had guts and excitement, musically.
The tour was well underway and causing quite a buzz around the music busin
ess, and by the time the band played London’s Marquee club, another aspiring drummer was waiting to see the show. His band was called Hard Meat, and had been booked as support to Tim Rose. As he will tell in his own words later on, he was simply dumbstruck by Rose’s drummer, within the first few minutes of the band taking to the stage. Little did he know that some 20 years later he would take John’s seat behind Messrs, Page, Plant and Jones, at the 1985 Live Aid concert. Mind you, he didn’t do too badly with his own career during those 20 years.
Phil Collins
“I went down to the Marquee club and patiently queued up to get in,” Phil recalls. “It was quite new then to do one set instead of two, so I waited until about 10pm when the group came on stage. Within the first few minutes I was dumbstruck by the drummer. He was doing things with his bass drum that I’d never seen or heard before – the last two beats of a triplet, something I’ve stolen and do whenever possible. He then played a solo and again I’d never heard or seen a drummer play like that. He played with his hands on the drums – I later found out that as a bricklayer he had very hard hands and it was obvious from seeing him solo that night. I vowed to keep an eye on this guy Bonham and I followed his progress. He was, even then, a major influence on my playing.
Above
The Yardbirds (Jimmy Page centre)
“Running a parallel course with this was another favourite band of mine, The Yardbirds. I’d seen Jeff Beck’s first gig with them (he’d joined that afternoon) and I’d bought the ‘Five Live Yardbirds’ album. I’d seen Jimmy Page playing bass after he’d joined in an afternoon and Beck was still on lead guitar. Suddenly they split and the news came of a New Yardbirds. This was something that I had to check out so I went to the Marquee to see them; me and about 50 other people. There they were, absolutely electric. Plant, Page, Jones and Bonham, my heroes. That gig, amongst their first half dozen, was incredible.
“I only came close to meeting John once, at a Melody Maker Awards bash. I was there representing Genesis and Brand X and he, with the rest of the band was picking up their awards.
“Stories of the dark side of Zeppelin are like Phil Seaman stories, everybody has one! They certainly had attitude when they entered a room. All I know is that he was an incredible drummer and I was shocked when I heard of his death. Funnily enough Genesis was at Headley Grange where Zeppelin had recorded some of ‘Physical Graffiti’ and those legendary drums of ‘When The Levee Breaks’ from Zep IV recorded on the stairwell.
“A few years passed, when suddenly I received a call from Robert Plant inviting me to play on his first solo album. Here I was, filling a hole left by one of my heroes. I said ‘yes’ of course. I received a cassette of the material and was amazed by the sound and feel of the drummer on the tape, it turned out to be Jason, John’s son. He sounded just like his old man. I came to know and like Jason a lot, we met occasionally and I think he was a bit of a fan of my playing. I felt like taking him under my wing for a while but he did very well without me!
“I completed two albums and his first solo tour with Robert, trying to make him smile the way I knew John did with his playing. Finally at Live Aid in 1985.
“John’s boots were just too big for anyone to fill though. He was unique.”
John Bonham
While all this was going on, somewhere in another part of London, Jimmy Page and Peter Grant were in discussion about which new musicians they could recruit to form the New Yardbirds. The first new recruit would be John Paul Jones, a highly regarded bass player with whom Jimmy had worked during his early session days. Terry Reid had been short listed for vocals but was unable to join due to other commitments, but he in turn put forward the name of Robert Plant.
Peter and Jimmy went off to take a look at this Black Country boy, who Reid insisted could really belt out a song, and they soon found out they hadn’t been misled. Robert was asked to join them in London to discuss his likes and dislikes in music. Robert asked who the drummer was going to be and was told that BJ Wilson had been asked but had declined the offer. Robert remembered his old mate and told them about John, who was touring the country with Tim Rose.
“I had so much to consider before I joined Led Zeppelin. It wasn’t a question of who had the best prospects, but which was going to do the right kind of stuff. I knew Joe Cocker was going to make it. But, I already knew from playing in Band of Joy with Robert Plant what he liked, and I knew what Jimmy Page was into, so I decided I liked that sort of music better. And it paid off.”
By the time the Rose show had rolled on to the Hampstead Country Club in London, Robert, Jimmy and Peter were there to see the show and find out if this drummer was as good as Robert had claimed. In the end they went to see John on several occasions, as Tim recalls, “They didn’t say a lot to me but spent a long time talking to John.” It didn’t take too long before Tim put two and two together and realised that these infiltrators were out to steal his drummer and was worried enough to confront John, asking, “Are you going to leave me to go with them?” “No way,” was the reply he got. “Not only do I love this life, but the money’s too good.”
I only managed to see the Tim Rose trio once on this tour because I didn’t know our kid was going to leave. As I found out, whilst writing this book, neither did Tim. The venue I caught them at was The Wharf Hotel, a riverside pub on the banks of The River Severn at Holt Fleet in Worcestershire. It holds bittersweet memories, as I remember standing at the bar moaning to a bloke next to me about how late it was and the band hadn’t even gone on yet. No sooner had the words, “Who is this Tim Rose bloke anyway?” left my mouth than our John and Steve took the stage, along with the chap next to me. I had to miss the first couple of numbers while I took my foot out of my mouth. It wasn’t the first time I’d cocked up and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but while I stood watching the band on stage I understood what Tony Wilson from the Melody Maker was talking about.
The tour carried on to Middlesborough, and it wasn’t until the band actually got there that they realised that John hadn’t. Luckily for Tim, Steve was aware of what was going on with their drummer and had another chap ready to fill in. Our John was in Scandinavia with the New Yardbirds.
As we sat in the café sipping our drinks, with Tim telling the story and me listening intently, I noticed a large grin slowly appear on Tim’s face as he said, “It was bad enough John doing a runner during the tour but I always wore tinted glasses that John really liked and they did a runner at the same time.”
It would be several years before Tim would meet up with John again but they finally bumped into each other in a hotel in America and the first thing John said was, “Hey Tim, it wasn’t me who had your glasses.” “But John,” Tim replied, “No one knows about the glasses!”
As we parted that afternoon Tim turned to me and said, “You know the sad part about it was we never managed to record anything together.” Leaving the café and wandering back to the office I was confused about one thing Tim said. “When John started with me his timing was a bit erratic. His 4/4 timing could vary between 3 and 3/4 and 4 and 1/4.” So did John have a problem with his timing? There was only one way to find out and only one person to ask who would know the answer – John Paul Jones.
Above
John Paul Jones
Chapter 8
THE TRAIN STARTS A ROLLING
John Paul Jones
John Paul Jones had formed such a great bond with Bonzo, that it allowed these two great musicians to become a rhythm section that would let Jimmy Page and Robert Plant steer the vehicle in any musical direction only to find, upon their return, that the beat was still rock solid. They would perform solos too; Bonzo with ‘Moby Dick’ and Jonesy with so many memorable keyboard pieces and unsurpassable bass playing. So, if I were going to write a book about John, how would it be possible without delving into the vault of memories of a great friend and musician ‘Jonesy’?
It had been years since I had seen John but I was able to contact him through h
is manager Richard Chadwick, who kindly set up a meeting so I could find out what happened between Middlesborough and Scandinavia. The meeting was to take place at Richard’s office in Portland Road and, as it was such a beautiful day, I decided to walk the short distance from Debbie’s studio. As I ventured down Ladbroke Grove, memories flooded back of when our kid would bring the latest album test pressing home and would be so excited about another new sound Jonesy had come up with. Whether it was the melotron beginning to ‘Stairway To Heaven’, the punchy start to ‘Trampled Underfoot’ or ‘No Quarter’s’ quite beautiful piano sound. Whatever, it would be greeted with, “Listen to this, listen to this”, as Jimmy peeled off another great guitar solo. John was always in awe of the musical gifts of John Paul Jones and Jimmy Page. There are certain pieces of music that will always stir a memory and ‘No Quarter’ does it for me. I remember myself and wife Lin had been invited to John and Pat’s one night for dinner, back in the early 70s while they were still living in Hagley. It was a warm, still evening and we decided to go for a swim in the pool. After a while John decided he wanted to play a track for us all, so he and Pat went into the house, leaving Lin and me alone in the pool. Then through the quiet night air came this unbelievable piano playing, sounding as if it was being played underwater. What a classic piece!
Daydreaming aside, I arrived at the office, but in true Zep style John hadn’t. It wasn’t long before Jonesy came in and bugger me, he didn’t look any older. It was great to see him again and it was soon decided that we should go to the pub to do the interview. We found a table outside, purchased some refreshments and then went back in time. “Well John, tell me your version of how it all started.”