Month: August 2019

Bernie Taupin: Elton’s “Write” Hand Man

Bernie Taupin: Elton’s “Write” Hand Man

By Steven P. Wheeler

It is the summer of 1989. Six months of phone calls and patience has finally paid off. Bernie Taupin, the man who has been placing words into the mouth of Elton John since 1967, sits behind the desk in a cluttered office high atop Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood, California, willing to discuss all aspects of his illustrious career.

As one half of the most prolific and enduring songwriting team in pop music history, Taupin, like his more famous partner, is a musical legend.

The English-born lyricist arrived a few minutes late after flying in from Denver, Colorado, where Elton’s Sleeping With the Past Tour had made a stop. Taupin noted that he is accompanying Elton on the entire tour for the first time in more than a decade because “I’m really into this project and I want to be with him for this album [Sleeping With the Past]. I also wanted to do one more tour before I hang up my road shoes.”

With a long ponytail falling from underneath a baseball cap and earrings dangling from each ear, the then-39-year-old lyricist/poet/novelist has maintained his “bohemic” image after 20 years in the fickle business of music, and steadfastly believes that the John-Taupin partnership is producing some of its finest material to date.

Now that the scene has been set, I’ll also be adding in more dialogue that I had with Taupin when we sat down again in 1996 to discus his own band, Farm Dogs, as well as some current details of Bernie’s career as a visual artist to bring it all home.

The magical bio-pic Rocketman is also available now for home viewing this week, so check it out if you missed it in theaters.

Elton’s memorable induction speech at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1994.

The Ad That Changed Music History

Born May 22, 1950, the second of three sons, Bernie Taupin always dreamed of being a writer, but schooling wasn’t something that the future songwriting legend put a lot of stock in. Leaving school at 15, the closest he came to a writing career in those days was working in the printing room of the local newspaper.

Like many kids his age growing up in Lincolnshire, England, the dreamer with a fascination for America was a bit directionless and sought more than what his small town upbringing had to offer. “I was living in the north of England. I was basically a farm hand. It was either sink or swim for me at that time,” Taupin explained. “I was either going to break out of the area, because the area I was living in was sort of akin to living in Indiana or Nebraska, where you have two opportunities after you leave school: you either work on the land and drive a tractor or you go and work in the steel towns.

“Living in Lincolnshire, I did both of those things: I worked on the land and I worked in a factory. I did have a certain literary background on my mother’s side of the family. My mother was very instrumental in making me read good literature and she was always encouraging me to write. And my grandfather was a college professor, so I always had aspirations of writing. Obviously, it was very youthful writing at that time, but, again, it was an early time.”

Always a music fan, one day in 1967, Taupin was thumbing through his latest copy of the New Musical Express and happened upon an ad. Little did he know that his life was just about to change forever.

The actual ad that a teenage poet named Bernie Taupin and a pianist named Reginald Dwight would both answer, and soon would discover that fate had brought them together.

“I answered that ad out of desperation, really,” Taupin told me in 1989. “Elton and I did meet through an ad in the New Musical Express in 1967. It’s not that complicated really. We both answered the same ad, and just through the ingenuity of Ray Williams, one of the people involved in placing the ad—which was actually for Liberty Records when they broke away from EMI—we were put together.

“They were just starting a new company, and they needed everybody—they needed somebody to clean the floors, they needed somebody to write songs, they needed artists, they needed promo men.”

Reginald Dwight (aka Elton John) with Ray Williams, who gave the unknown pianist a batch of lyrics sent in by Bernie Taupin. Elton would actually write music to quite a few of Taupin’s lyrics before the two would actually meet face-to-face.
The very first song ever written by Reg Dwight and Bernie Taupin in 1967.

As for his part, Taupin says that his early attempt at writing song lyrics were heavily influenced by the era, which, in America, would become known as the Summer of Love.

“When we first met, the object was basically to write songs. There was no notion in our minds that Elton was to be a performer. It was just Bernie Taupin and Reg Dwight then, and we were signed to Dick James Music, and we were writing songs.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“It was the late ‘60s, and it was the era of tremendous pretention,” he stated with a laugh. “So the things that I was writing when I first attempted to write lyrics, which I didn’t really know what I was supposed to write, were appalling rip-offs of John Lennon material or Procol Harum or things like that.

“I was writing things like ‘The Chocolate Lakes of Your Mind,’ ‘The Year of the Teddy Bear’ and ‘Swan Queen of the Laughing Lake.’ They were all these sort of acid-trip things, which I had no justification in writing because I didn’t even know what acid looked like at the time.”

Another early attempt from the Dwight/Taupin partnership.

The Tin Pan Alley Twins

Eventually the two budding songwriters would meet and they were signed to Dick James Music. Contrary to his portrayal in the Rocketman movie, Dick James was a major player in the industry who owned The Beatles publishing.

“When we first met, the object was basically to write songs. There was no notion in our minds that Elton was to be a performer,” explained Taupin. “It was just Bernie Taupin and Reg Dwight then, and we were signed to Dick James Music, and we were writing songs.

Bernie Taupin and Reginald Dwight, the songwriting team signed to Dick James Music.

“Now, this was still in the days of Tin Pan Alley and Denmark Street in London, when most singers who were making records were not writing their own songs. It was really the days of Tom Jones and Lulu. Even the groups that were out there were recording a lot of outside material. So there was a great demand for songs, and we weren’t nurtured and we weren’t encouraged to write what we wanted to write.

An example of the “big-time ballads” that Dwight and Taupin were writing for artists like Tom Jones. Not surprisingly, they were not being recorded by the artists in question.

“We were sort of forced to write big-time ballads for people like Engelbert Humperdink and Tom Jones—not that they ever recorded any of our material because it really wasn’t any good.”

The Turning Point

Just as the unsung Ray Williams put the two songwriters together, another person lost to history who played a vital role in the evolution of the Dwight/Taupin team was a maverick within the Dick James company, as Bernie explained: “In order to make money we had to write that kind of material. But on the side, we started tinkering with a little bit more experimental songs.

“And sometime later on, a guy named Steve Brown came into the Dick James organization and heard some of the songs we were trying to write for other people, and he said, ‘Listen, don’t be writing this shit. Concentrate on writing exactly what you want to write. Don’t worry about Dick, I’ll pacify him,’ because Dick was still paying our way.”

Reginald Dwight (now Elton John), Bernie, drummer Nigel Olsson, Steve Brown and Dick James. The long-haired and bearded Brown was the maverick executive who told the young songwriters to stop trying to write songs for other people and to write for themselves.

“We were writing these kinds of songs, and it was at that point that we realized that the only people who could really record them was ourselves. And Elton had been singing on all the demos, so I just said, ‘Well, I guess it has to be you because you have the better voice and you play the piano.’ It could have been anybody, I guess, it could have been me.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
“Lady Samantha” was the first single released by the newly christened artist Elton John to get any radio airplay and notice, as limited as the recognition was in early 1969. The duo got a boost when the American group, Three Dog Night recorded “Lady Samantha” on their album.

“So we sort of went home and start writing what we felt like writing, and those were the nucleus of the early songs like ‘Lady Samantha’ that would eventually lead up to the Empty Sky album. We were writing these kinds of songs, and it was at that point that we realized that the only people who could really record them was ourselves. And Elton had been singing on all the demos, so I just said, ‘Well, I guess it has to be you because you have the better voice and you play the piano.’ It could have been anybody, I guess, it could have been me [laughs].”

Two Rooms

The most interesting aspect of the John/Taupin partnership is how they work. Taupin starts the process by writing or typing out his lyrics, passes them on to Elton and leaves the ivory-tickler to come up with the music. This bizarre working relationship is the same today as it was when they began in 1967.

“Over the years, the actual style of our writing has not changed,” Taupin states. “I’ve always written the lyrics first and given them to Elton and he writes the music. We’ve always worked totally separate, but it’s a 50-50 deal.

“In the early days, when we were writing those first initial songs, we were living at Elton’s mother’s apartment in Northwood Hills just outside of London, and it was very much like two young songwriters honing their craft.  I mean, we were discovering the way each other worked. It’s about honing your craft, about discovering each other’s working patterns.”

Elton demonstrates the writing process with a new song called “Tiny Dancer.”

“It was funny, I’d be in the bedroom writing lyrics and he’d be in the living room at the stand-up piano,” Taupin continued, “and I’d bring him some lyrics and go back to the bedroom and write some more. It was very childish.

“There’s a song on the Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy album [the autobiographical classic released in 1975] called ‘Writing,’ which I think does a very good job about summing up that period of time.”

Taupin’s brilliant lyric detailing the early days when the two songwriters were writing songs day and night while living with Elton’s mother in the late ’60s.

“Even to this day people find it very strange that that’s how we work. I mean, I don’t know any other songwriting team that’s ever done it this way. So we really broke the mold. And, for me, it was a dream come true because I didn’t have to conform to any restrictions. I could just write what I wanted.

“In those early days, I had no real sense of form. I was just writing very, very long pieces and Elton was honing them into songs. For historical note, a lot of those early songs probably had several more verses.”

This “honing’ process even happened as late as 1972 and resulted in one of pop music’s classic hits. “It’s like the famous story of ‘Daniel.’ The original lyric of ‘Daniel’ had another verse, which basically explained what the song was about. But because it was too long, we left it out and, of course, to this day people are still wondering what that song is about.

“It’s basically about a young boy whose older brother is a Vietnam vet who comes home to the farm, and he can’t find any peace, so he flies off to Spain where he can hopefully find some. It’s written from the boy’s point of view as he watches him fly away.”

“Empty Sky” Album

With the encouragement of Steve Brown at Dick James Music, it was time to try and push the newly christened Elton John to do an album after the less than successful singles. With a very small budget and Brown helming the sessions as producer, the result was the album Empty Sky, which was only released in England. America would have to wait.

Looking back on that debut album, one can’t help but feel Taupin’s fondness for that first big moment in their career. Still in his teens at the time, and Elton only 22, this was an early dream come true for the pair, even if there was no sign that stardom was on the horizon.

“[Empty Sky] got a modicum of good reaction. It got just as much bad reaction,” the lyricist says with a laugh. “It was a slightly sort of pretentious album. I think we were still finding our way. It was a very naïve album.

“Lyrically, it was steeped in Norse mythology and sort of based on what I was reading at the time, which was a lot of science fiction by writers like H.G. Wells and H.P. Lovecraft. So it came across like that.”

Despite being recorded in a primitive two-track studio, some of the magic of the John/Taupin partnership could be seen. When pushed, Taupin does agree that this first effort did include some worthy material.

“It did have its moments,” he agreed. “The title track was quite interesting. I actually wouldn’t mind re-recording that song because it was done in a two-track studio at the time [laughs]. We were basically trying to do ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ with that introduction [Bernie drums on the desk like the conga intro of the song].

The overlooked title track of the Empty Sky album.

“But that one track really stands out for me, and, in fact, until sometime in the mid-‘70s Elton used to do that song on stage. It would be interesting to do that song again, I think.”

When Taupin is reminded of another song from the album, he readily agrees: “There’s a couple of other decent songs on that album. ‘Skyline Pigeon’ is on there, which is a fairly naïve lyric, but it’s actually a good song, a good melody.”

‘Skyline Pigeon’ & Ryan White

Elton has said that 1969’s “Skyline Pigeon” was the first song that he and Bernie had felt truly excited about; that they had found their voice for the first time.

Bu twenty years later, the significance of the song would take on an entirely new meaning as Elton would perform this song at the funeral for teenage AIDS victim Ryan White. White made national news after he had contracted the deadly virus through a blood transfusion in 1984 at the age of 13. He died in 1990 at 18, with a quote from Bernie’s lyric gracing his headstone.

Bernie, Ryan White and Elton not longer before White’s tragic death in 1990.

During the final week of Ryan’s life in Indiana, Elton spent a lot of time with Ryan and his family. The pampered superstar was humbled by the family who bore no ill will towards the bigotry and indignation they suffered during those early days of the AIDS crisis: protests to keep White from returning to his high school, gunshots fired at their home, which forced them to leave their hometown.

It was Ryan’s forgiveness and grace and his mother’s humility in the face of losing her child that impacted Elton and made him look at his own life. At that point in time, Elton was a major drug addict who lived a life of privilege and wealth with no sense of reality; even to the point of calling his management company to have them do something about the strong wind that was blowing outside his hotel room and keeping him awake.

Within six months of Ryan’s death, Elton would get sober and has remained so ever since. He also started his own AIDS Foundation in 1992 that has raised nearly half-a-billion dollars over the past 27 years.

Elton performing “Skyline Pigeon” at Ryan White’s funeral in 1990.

The Beginning of Fame

Although Empty Sky barely made a ripple of an impact in England, Dick James did put his money where his mouth was and spent a lot of money on the next album. The self-titled album would be the first to be released in America and it was the first major step in what has become a 50-year journey of fame and fortune for the two songwriters.

“I don’t know what we expected from that record,” Taupin recalls, “but I think it gave Dick James some confidence in us. At the time of the Empty Sky album, I think Dick realized that he had something going because at that time in England there was nobody of that ilk. America had its Van Morrisons, its Joni Mitchells, its Carole Kings and James Taylors, but there was nobody like that in England. So I guess we were the Great English Hope.

“And Dick, to all his credit, poured a lot of money into the Elton John album. And Steve Brown, who had produced the Empty Sky album only because he happened to be there at the time, said, ‘For this next album, we’ve got to get the right producer, we’ve got to get the right arranger, and we’ve got to build the right team around us.’ And that’s what we did with [producer] Gus Dudgeon and [arranger] Paul Buckmaster.”

The “team” that would turn Elton John into a household name within two years.
The innovative rocker that meshed rock & roll with an orchestra and choir from 1970’s self-titled album. Elton still plays “Take Me to the Pilot” in his concerts to this very day.

In a bold move, Dick James sent Elton and Bernie to America, along with drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray. The legendary concert engagement at The Troubadour in Los Angeles resulted in massive media coverage and word about the piano-playing madman spread across the U.S. like wildfire.

Bernie recalled those heady days when his childhood dream of coming to America was soon realized. “Luckily, the Elton John album was the one that took off. Funny enough, it actually took off in America first, and sort of boomeranged back to England. By the time we actually came to America to promote the Elton John album, we had already gotten the Tumbleweed Connection album in the bag too, which was to be the follow-up.

“When we first came to the States, we brought the tapes of the Tumbleweed album with us. I remember playing it for Robbie Robertson [chief songwriter and guitarist for The Band] in a hotel in New York. And from there, as they say, the rest is history.”

The American Dream

The mention of the Tumbleweed Connection classic instantly brings to mind visions of America in the days of simple pioneering days and the gunslinging Wild West. Ironically these vivid scenes and scenarios came from the pen of a teenage English kid who had never set foot on Yankee soil.

“Coming to the States was something that every kid in England wanted to do at that time,” Taupin says with a childlike enthusiasm. “When we got the opportunity at the time of the Elton John album in 1970, I think the real reason that Elton and I wanted to come here was so that we could see the record stores, because we were vinyl junkies back then. As a matter of fact, we still are.

“Plus, as a kid I kind of fed on Americana—American television, American literature—and I was obsessed with the American West. Like I said, we even did the Tumbleweed Connection album even before we came here, because I was so influenced by a mixture of things from The Band to Dylan, but definitely The Band because The Band to me epitomized Americana and that timeless quality. I loved The Band. I mean, The Band is probably still my all-time favorite rock and roll band. I think they encompass everything that is good in that art form.”

The classic track from 1970’s Tumbleweed Connection album was also covered by Rod Stewart on his own 1970 album, Gasoline Alley.

“A lot of the stuff we were listening to was coming out of the West Coast of America—people like Love, The Doors and Buffalo Springfield. It was that nucleus time. So we had this sort of preconceived notion of the Promised Land being California.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

While he had a dream of what America was really like, I asked Bernie if the States lived up to his expectations. His answer came swift and strong: “Oh yeah, absolutely, and even more probably. I don’t think anybody in Europe can understand America until they’ve actually been here. And when we first came here, the last thing on our mind was actually thinking about playing shows or performing. We just wanted to come and see it! It was phenomenal.

“As soon as I got here, I said that America is where I wanted to be. It was everything that I ever dreamed it was going to be and more. Before I knew it I had sold up shop and I was here, and I’ve never wanted to go back, and now I’m an American citizen.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

The question is whether he still feels the same nearly 50 years later? “Obviously a bit of the shine has worn off over the years,” he answers, “but as soon as I got here, after a couple of days, I said that America is where I wanted to be. It was everything that I ever dreamed it was going to be and more.

“In the next year or so, I got to discover America more by touring, which we did a lot of, and you see the expanse of the country and you see how different people live in different walks of life in America—from the shine here in L.A. to the blue-collar areas to the East Coast—and all those variables just appealed to me. Before I knew it I had sold up shop and I was here, and I’ve never wanted to go back, and now I’m an American citizen.”

American Music

“You see, the thing was that Elton and I fed on American imports while we were growing up in England,” the lifelong music lover explains, “and we just fed on American music. There used to be a place on Berwick Street in London, called One Stop Records, and it was really the only place in London that used to get all the American imports.

“On Fridays, we used to go down there and just wait for these shipments to come in. In those days, in England, they didn’t shrink-wrap records like they shrink-wrap records here, and there was just a difference in the materials that the album covers and the records were made with. It was really exciting to get the new Hendrix album or whatever, because every thing would usually come out in America first.”

By 1972, Bernie’s lyrics reflected his love for America in tone and style and with their Honky Chateau album they finally hit the top of the charts and would have a total of seven consecutive albums hit the #1 spot on the Billboard Charts over the next three years.

Despite their overwhelming success, Taupin notes that it is their undying love for music that keeps them moving creatively. “Elton and I love all kinds of music,” he notes. “I don’t care if it’s jazz, blues, rock & roll, metal or folk; if it’s good, I like it. There are certain things that Elton listens to more than me. Elton likes dance music. I don’t particularly listen to it. Most of the stuff I listen to now is country music. That’s really all I listen to.”

In 2002, Bernie wrote the lyrics for this song that was recorded by country icon Willie Nelson and Lee Ann Womack. The song hit #22 on the Country Charts and won a Grammy.

“We’re still vinyl junkies,” Taupin continues, “and I think that’s what still makes us viable because we train each other on what we’ve been listening to. Whenever we talk after we’ve been away from each other for a while, the first thing we say is, ‘Have you heard this? Have you heard that?’ We’re still the biggest music fans in the world.”

Their love of all music styles has kept the John/Taupin team churning out hundreds of songs covering an unparalleled amount of genres. This lost gem from the 2003 film Mona Lisa Smiles is just one of many examples of how many excellent songs have been pushed to the shadows by their incredible amount of hit singles.
The staggering amount of hit singles from the pen of Bernie Taupin, with and without Elton.

Looking Back

While there are countless John/Taupin songs over the past half-century destined to outlive their creators in the hearts and minds of music fans, Taupin still has to deal with critics who have not always been kind to the Tin Pan Alley Twins.

“The thing that people tend to forget is that we were very young when we started. Elton and I met in mid-1967, and I was only 17. So it’s interesting to me when I see reviews of Elton’s concerts today. It’s like when the New York Times did a review of a show on last year’s tour when Elton played some of our older material like ‘Sixty Years On’ and ‘The King Must Die,’ and this guy pointed out how pretentious the lyrics to ‘Sixty Years On’ and ‘The King Must Die’ are, and I felt like writing a letter saying, ‘Excuse me, I was 17 years old when I wrote that.’ They don’t seem to realize that.”

The epic finale from their 1970 American debut, written when Taupin was still a teen.

This topic comes up again when I ask about their first major hit, which has become an unquestionable pop standard. “It’s like the perennial ballad ‘Your Song,’ which has got to be one of the most naïve and childish lyrics in the entire repertoire of music, but I think the reason it still stands up is because it was real at the time. That was exactly what I was feeling. I was 17 or 18 years old and it was coming from someone whose outlook on love or experience with love was totally new and naïve.

“Now I could never write that song again or emulate it because the songs I write now that talk about love coming from people my age usually deal with broken marriages and where the children go [laughs]. You have to write from where you are at a particular point in time, and ‘Your Song’ is exactly where I was coming from back then.”

The original demo of “Your Song,” which Elton put music to on October 27, 1969. It would become a Top Ten hit in January of 1971.

Working Backwards

Since they have been writing together for more than 50 years, I was curious if they had ever switched their Modus Operandi where Bernie wrote lyrics to Elton’s melody. Surprisingly it did happen at one point during the early ’80s.

“We did do it the other way around at one point, and it wasn’t that we tried to do it that way. It just ended up that way. Elton was staying in Paris, and our time schedule was very off. He had been locked in this studio writing all these melodies and he asked me to write some lyrics to a handful of them. I did, and those songs were on an album called Jump Up! [released in 1982], which for me is probably the worst album we’ve ever made.

“It’s a very messy album. The songs are awful. I only wrote five songs on that album, so I’m not going to pass comment on some of the other songs. But it’s a messy album, very inconsistent. We’ve made some bum albums, believe me. There are albums like The Fox, too, which I thought was a complete disaster, even though it had a couple of good songs on it.”

“There is one song where [Elton] did come up with the melody line before I came up with a lyric, and it’s the only time that method worked for us. That was on a song called ‘Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word.’”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

However the Jump Up! did include one John/Taupin classic, which was written about their dear friend John Lennon after his tragic murder in 1980. “In fact, the only song that’s any good is ‘Empty Garden,’ which is the only one where I wrote the lyrics first on. It’s really the only song on that album that’s any good.”

Before moving on to the next topic, Bernie stops me in mid-sentence to point out that there was one instance where writing a lyric to Elton’s melody did result in a great song. “Wait a minute, I lied,” he says with a laugh. “There is one other song where he did come up with the melody line before I came up with a lyric, and it’s the only time that method worked for us. That was on a song called ‘Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word.’

“I don’t think he was intending on writing a song but we were sitting around an apartment in Los Angeles, and he was playing around on the piano and he came up with this melody line, and I said, ‘Hey, that’s really nice.’ For some reason this lyrical line ‘Sorry seems to be the hardest word’ ran through my head, and it fit perfectly with what he was playing. So I said, ‘Don’t do anything more to that, let me go write something,’ so I wrote it out in a few minutes and we had the song.”

The only hit song where Bernie wrote a lyric to one of Elton’s melodies, instead of the lyrics coming first like their normal process.

Tuneful Telepathy

Since Elton writes the music to Bernie’s lyrics, another burning question is whether or not the lyricist has ever been disappointed in the music that has been applied to his words. “Well, we’ve been writing together so long that it’s almost telepathic now,” he says matter of factly. “There’s also much more communication in our writing now. At one time, I would just give him a stack of stuff and he’d pick out what appealed to him. Nowadays, I’m more confident and he’s more confident, and we’re more confident with each other, so we talk about things more.

“I also don’t give him as much material to play with as I once did. I’m not afraid to give him a lyric and say: ‘Elton, I think this one is really good. I see it in this light.’ But I don’t like to tread on his toes too much because he’s so inventive and he’s so brilliant that it’s really not necessary to complicate matters and get in his way.

“I’m sure it has happened occasionally in the past where I’ve been not necessarily disappointed with what he’s done, but surprised. The last episode I can remember was with the last track on the Reg Strikes Back album [released in 1987], a song called ‘Since God Invented Girls.’ I had written it more as an up-tempo Beach Boys’ salute, and he turned it into more of a Brian Wilson opus than I had imagined it. Then again, I preferred it the way he did it, and we used the Beach Boys on it.

“So, yeah, it usually can be said that it turns out the way I want it to, but like I said I explain things to him much more than I ever did. Then again, you’ve also got to remember that by the subject matter of a lyric you can kind of tell which direction a song should go. I mean if you write ‘Saturday night’s alright for fighting,’ you’re really not going to write a ballad.”

Quality AND Quantity

Another amazing aspect of the John/Taupin partnership is not only the quality of the songs but also the seemingly endless quantity. How in the world were they able to fulfill a backbreaking contract that called for two albums per year for nearly ten years?

Taupin shrugs and says, “We’re just very prolific writers, who enjoy writing. Don’t ever let anybody tell you that if it takes you a long time to write a song it’s going to be any better than if you write it in ten minutes. Certain people like Don Henley or Robbie Robertson are great writers, but they slave over the songs and it takes them three years to make an album because they’re meticulous in the sense that they go over and over and over things.

“I’m the sort of writer to where if it’s not working for me in like ten minutes, I know it’s going nowhere. My best stuff comes straight out and pours out, and the same with Elton. We just happen to write very quickly, and while some of our material might suffer for it, we’re just those kind of writers.”

Obviously, over the years, they have slowed down that ridiculous pace. “We don’t write as much as we used to,” he revealed to me in 1989. “I mean in the early ‘70s that’s all we did was write songs continually. We had huge backlogs of material.

“Now I certainly have other outside interests, and songwriting takes up a very, very small percentage of my time. But I probably enjoy doing it more now than I ever did because when I sit down to write now, I think my ideas are much more concentrated and I think my ideas are probably better. Maybe they’re just more adult. That’s why I don’t really consider myself to be a songwriter, I think of myself as a writer.”

Poetry vs. Lyrics

When it comes to the topic of poetry and lyrics, Bernie takes a firm stance about the difference. “People, who are being very sweet and well meaning, are always telling me that my lyrics are poetry, which absolutely makes me barf,” he says. “My lyrics are nothing like poetry. They’re supposed to be heard with a melody. I don’t like people taking my lyrics out of context and reading it as poetry. They were written to be sung; they were not written to be recited.”

“People, who are being very sweet and well meaning, are always telling me that my lyrics are poetry, which absolutely makes me barf. My lyrics are nothing like poetry. They’re supposed to be heard with a melody. They were written to be sung; they were not written to be recited.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“I’m very adamant about that because nobody’s ever seen my poetry. Poetry is one of my first loves, and I think of myself as a poet but I also think of myself as a lyricist and a writer. So that’s why I’d rather be known as a writer instead of a songwriter, because songwriting is such a small part of my life. I love writing, that is my life.

“My poetry is very dear to me, and I’ve worked very hard on it. What I did recently is I went through all my old notebooks and I put all of my poetry in the word processor [Ed. Note: Kids, computers in the ’80s were often referred to as “word processors” ;)], re-evaluated it, edited it, and added to it, and came up with my first volume of poetry, which I hope will be out next year.”

In 1988, Bernie’s memoir about his pre-fame days called A Cradle of Haloes: Sketches of a Childhood was published and, in 1991, his first book of poetry entitled The Devil at High Noon was also published.

“As long as I’m doing something in any field of writing I’m happy. I’ve got to have something feeding me all the time. My dream of the future is to be able to retire to my wherever and just write. That’s all I want to do. There’s just not enough hours in the day for me to do that.”

“Disposable Pop”

Over the years, Elton has dubbed many of their songs as “disposable pop,” so I asked Bernie if he agreed. “We’ve made an incredible amount of ‘disposable pop,’ especially in the early-to-mid ‘70s with things like ‘Crocodile Rock,’ ‘Honky Cat’ and ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.’ Yeah, it’s very disposable. It’s music for the moment.

“I don’t want people to remember me for ‘Crocodile Rock.’ I’d much rather they remember me for songs like ‘Candle in the Wind’ and ‘Empty Garden,’ songs that convey a message. Well, they don’t really have to convey a message, as long as they convey a feeling. There are certain love songs or ballads that we’ve written that have an intensity and an integrity that I think will remain intact for a very long time. With things like ‘Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word’ and ‘Daniel,’ I can honestly say that I’m pretty proud of our output as far as commercial singles are concerned.

Elton, producer Gus Dudgeon, and Bernie in the studio during the Caribou recording sessions in 1974. The album would become their fifth of seven consecutive #1s.

“But there are other things that are probably very ‘surface,’ where the feeling is not really that realistic, things like ‘Crocodile Rock,’ which was fun at the time, but it was ‘pop fluff.’ It was like, ‘Okay, that was fun for now, throw it away and here’s the next one.’ So there’s a certain element of our music that is disposable, but I think you’ll find that in anybody’s catalog.”

“Unfortunately, today, people think that ‘pop’ is a dirty word. It’s got to be rock & roll or post-modern,” he continued. “Fuck, it’s all pop. As much as I love John Cougar Mellencamp, ‘never wanted to be a pop singer,’ yes he did! [laughs]. Pop singer means popular singer; to be popular.

“Frank Sinatra was a pop singer. Bruce Springsteen is a pop singer. I’m sorry, if anyone says otherwise, they’re full of shit because that’s what it means. Rock & roll is a much earthier term to use—yeah, rock & roll singer—but they’re all pop singers. U2 is a pop group, I’m sorry. I’ve got as much social conscience as anybody, believe me, but we are all pop singers.”

Bernie wrote this powerful socially relevant ballad about a young man dying of AIDS, which was included on their acclaimed 2001 album Songs From the West Coast.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

In 1973, their legendary double-album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road thrust Bernie and Elton into the stratosphere of superstardom. It was still a time of innocence, when fame was new and wealth was starting to build up incredibly fast. It was also a time when they began merging into the proverbial hedonistic fastlane of sex, drugs and rock & roll, with no detours yet in the distance.

Elton John and Bernie in front of their private jet on a runway in California, during the 1974 U.S. tour. Behind them are the 35 musicians, roadies and others who accompanied the tour.
(Photo by Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images/Getty Images)

I asked Bernie to recount that album and he revealed his own personal thoughts on the classic album that has become synonymous with the career of Elton John and Bernie Taupin.

“I think the reason that Yellow Brick Road stands out is because it’s that sort of album that everybody claims to be a classic,” he stated, “which I don’t necessarily agree with. If people were to ask me to name my favorite Elton John album, I don’t necessarily think that it would be Yellow Brick Road, although it’s a very good album.

“I wrote most of the lyrics for that album within about a week, and while the band would be eating breakfast, Elton would take a lyric and write the song and they’d go in and record it. As soon as they finished, Elton would find another one, and that’s the way we did it.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“What happened with that album was that it was our intention to record it in Jamica, in Kingston, at Byron Lee’s studio, because the Rolling Stones had just been there and done Goat’s Head Soup. And they said, ‘Go down there, go down there and do it,’ not telling us the nightmares they had making the record over there, and that they had just managed to make it there.

“So we went down there thinking that it was going to be a great atmosphere, and the thing turned into an absolute nightmare. The studio was a joke. We couldn’t make anything work, and it was surrounded by guards with machine guns keeping people out, which is not the best atmosphere to work in. And the locals for some reason just didn’t like outsiders, and it was just a very intense experience and not a good working environment.

“In the end, we said, ‘We cannot work here,’ because our original intention was to do the writing for the album there, but we didn’t get anything done. So Elton and I basically fled, and we went back to New York and reassessed the situation, and we decided to go back to the Chateau in France, where we had done the previous couple of albums.”

Once they were back in France, they were under the gun to get some material together after the Jamaica debacle. “So we went back there and that’s when we realized that we had no songs,” he said, with a laugh. “So we sat down and started writing and the band came over. I wrote a few things, and for some reason it all just fell out.

“I wrote most of the lyrics for that album within about a week, and while the band would be eating breakfast, Elton would take a lyric and write the song and they’d go in and record it. As soon as they finished, Elton would find another one, and that’s the way we did it.

“I don’t remember how long it took us to write the songs for that album. It’s probably all been lost in myth and fable,” he jokes. “Over the years, I probably said that we wrote all those songs in a day or something. I really don’t remember how long it took us, but it went really fast.”

With their little Motown hit factory cranking out songs at a feverish pace, they began to think about the possibility of making it a double-album. “We just kept recording,” Taupin recalled, “and then suddenly we realized, ‘Shit we’ve got like 20 songs here, and they’re all pretty strong.’ [Producer] Gus Dudgeon did a great job putting that album together, threading all the songs and making that running order work the way it does.”

Fantastic the Feedback

Looking in the rearview mirror today, it’s difficult to really explain the mass popularity of Elton John between 1973-75. While free-form radio on the FM side of the dial was playing the progressive rock of “Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding,” “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting,” “Grey Seal” and others, the AM fans were pushing songs like “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” and “Bennie and the Jets” to the top of the charts.

Sure-fire hit singles like “Candle in the Wind” and “Harmony” from their double-album extravaganza never even got a chance to be released since Elton and Bernie had already finished the follow-up album Caribou within six months. And just like that, two more EJ/BT classics “The Bitch is Back” and “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me” were shooting up the charts.

And then in January 1975, Elton’s cover of The Beatles’ classic “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” (featuring John Lennon on guitar and backing vocals) topped the charts, only to be replaced at Number One by Bernie and Elton’s single “Philadelphia Freedom” weeks later.

You literally could not listen to a radio in America for more than 30 minutes without hearing an Elton John song. And after Caribou topped the charts, in May of 1975 came Bernie and Elton’s autobiographical masterpiece Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy. The album was promoted for months prior to its release, including a television commercial which was unheard of at the time.

The buzz was so big that the album became the first one in history to enter the charts at Number One, selling 500,000 copies in pre-orders alone. Elton and Bernie were at their zenith of popularity. It was something that only four lads from Liverpool could relate to. In fact, Bernie and Elton’s friend John Lennon was so amazed at how much airplay their songs were getting at the time that he joked: “If you die, I’m throwing my fuckin’ radio out the window.”

The sterling autobiographical album showed Bernie’s lyricism at its finest as he detailed the lives of the two songwriters from their early childhood to before they recorded their first album in 1969. Bernie and Elton still speak fondly of the album to this day. (In 2006, Bernie and Elton wrote the long-awaited sequel The Captain and the Kid, which begins right where Captain Fantastic left off. It is a brilliant musical journey thru their incredible career from the ’70s thru the ’80s, ’90s and 2000s. Read my detailed analysis of the album here https://rokritr.com/2019/06/07/the-captain-and-the-kid-the-real-rocketman/)

The opening title track that introduces Elton as Captain Fantastic and Bernie, the country boy, as The Brown Dirt Cowboy, and their love of music and drive to succeed.

“I love the Captain Fantastic album,” Bernie says warmly. “I think, lyrically, the Captain Fantastic album is one of our finest. I mean those songs were written all about us from the time we first met up until our first album together. It was written from my standpoint and from his, although I was putting the words in his mouth.”

All the songs illustrate their lonely childhoods, their early musical failures, survival, and their love for one another. The classic single from the album “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” was about Elton’s first suicide attempt after he broke off an early wedding engagement to a domineering woman.

“Rock of the Westies”

Riding high, figuratively and literally, in April of 1975, longtime drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray were unceremoniously fired. It was caviler treatment to the two musicians who had been with Elton since his legendary shows at The Troubadour in 1970.

Their replacements—drummer Roger Pope, who had worked with Elton going back to his Empty Sky album, and bassist Kenny Passarelli—were joined by keyboardist James Newton-Howard and another longtime Elton ally, guitarist Caleb Quaye. Previous band members guitarist Davey Johnstone and percussionist Ray Cooper remained.

The new outfit would record the Rock of the Westies album in the summer of that year, resulting in one more chart-topping album and single in “Island Girl.” It would prove to be the hardest rockin’ album of the songwriting duo’s career.

Bernie recalled that period of time in the mountains of Colorado at the Caribou Studios where they had recorded the previous two Number One albums: Rock of the Westies is one of my favorite albums. I just love that record,” Bernie said without hesitation. “I think we really achieved what we wanted to do at the time. It was an interesting period of time because Nigel and Dee had exited. I don’t think there was any animosity. Well, there might have been at the time. Unfortunately that period of time is a little foggy,” he continued with a laugh, “because we were going through a period where we were not really on the ball.”

“We wanted to put a rock & roll band together, and it was basically a fucked-up band. We were all at the highpoint there of abusing ourselves to the max. It was Jack Daniels and lines on the console.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

It would also prove to be a time when the booze and drugs had become part of the recording process, as Bernie candidly explained: “We wanted to put a rock & roll band together, and that’s what we did. We went to Caribou Studios in the Rockies [Colorado]. It was a good place, it was a funky place, and it was basically a fucked-up band. We were all at the highpoint there of abusing ourselves to the max. It was Jack Daniels and lines on the console, and somehow we got it done.

“I don’t remember anything about the sessions, and I don’t think anybody in that band will remember them either, but for some reason it paid off. Luckily, we’re all still alive to tell the tale. It wasn’t glamorous by any means; it was a rough period.”

https://youtu.be/IWFL_FJss2M

Top of the World

In three-and-a-half years between May of 1972 and October of 1975, Elton and Bernie had a record-breaking SEVEN consecutive Number One albums; a feat only matched by The Beatles, who did it between 1964-67. To put this into proper perspective, it took the Rolling Stones TEN YEARS to pull off seven straight chart-topping albums.

As for more recent artists who have managed to hit that plateau, it would take Jay-Z nine years to accomplish it, Kanye West took 13 Years and the Dave Matthews Band would take 20.

Add to the fact that Elton’s 1975 tour included his career-cementing two concerts at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, and it was clear beneath all the drugs and drink that something would have to give.

“At that point in time, Elton John farting would have sold, and that’s intense pressure to be under because you suddenly realize that there’s no other place to go but down.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

Bernie explained his frame of mind during that heady era by saying that the realization that their unmatched success would have to end at some point led to him finding comfort in the drug abusing whirlpool that had become their life. “We had seven consecutive Number One albums. In fact, the last two albums—Captain Fantastic and Rock of the Westies—had entered the charts at Number One, which no one had ever done before. And, again, you can’t go straight to anywhere else, except down.

Bernie sharing drinks with Queen’s Freddie Mercury at a post-concert party in Las Vegas.
(Photo by Brad Elterman/FilmMagic)

“At that point in time, Elton John farting would have sold, and that’s intense pressure to be under because you suddenly realize that there’s no other place to go but down. You know that every album you do from now on is not going to go to Number One. And I think that’s why the Blue Moves album was so introspective.”

“Blues Moves”

[It wasn’t just the professional pressure that was impacting Bernie at the time of the Blue Moves album in 1976. His marriage to Maxine—the L.A. Lady and seamstress for the band that he wrote about in ‘Tiny Dancer’ only five years before—was coming to an end. Infidelities on both sides played a part in their impending divorce, including her affair with Bernie’s closest friend in the band, bassist Kenny Passarelli.

The song, “Between Seventeen and Twenty,” which was the age of Maxine and Bernie when they first met is an honest portrait about a young married couple who had grown apart. As well as a reference to her affair with Bernie’s close friend, bassist Kenny Passarelli.
Bernie and his first wife, Maxine, at their wedding in 1971. Elton, dressed in his modest way, served as Bernie’s best man. By 1976, the marriage was coming to an end.

The duo’s second double-album in three years did manage to get to #3, and included their Top Ten hit, “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word,” but it broke their streak of seven Number One albums in a row. Bernie’s lyrics, which had always touched on darker themes, this time around were even more morose than usual and filled with disillusionment and regret, not to mention a few songs about suicide.

“I think the Blue Moves album is really one of our most underrated albums, because it was really an exercise in saying, ‘Here it is, this is us, and this could be it,’ and it could have been it. After the Blue Moves album, I had to get away because I think we were all killing ourselves.”

An outtake from the Blue Moves material. This is a personal favorite of mine when it comes to Bernie’s lyrics. A powerful testament to the end of a relationship.

The Split

It was at this time that Bernie found himself crawling out of the “Crazy Water” that was engulfing him. “After the Blue Moves album, I went and lived in Mexico for like six months, and went through some changes,” he said. “I’m not going to go into that because it’s boring to hear ‘drying out’ stories. But after that album, I said, ‘That’s it, I’ve got to get away from this for a while.’ And, at that point, I really didn’t know if I’d be able to do it again.

“That’s where the separation between Elton and I came for a little while,” he continued. “But everybody seems to think that we fell out and we weren’t going to ever work together again. It wasn’t that. We never fell out. I think we just needed to get away from it for a while.”

On 2006’s autobiographical album The Captain and the Kid, Bernie looked back at the time in 1976 when he and Elton needed to take a break after unparalleled fame took over their lives.

Alice Cooper

Following the professional split between Elton and Bernie, Elton would work with lyricist Gary Osborne on his rather bland album A Single Man, while Bernie would surprisingly team up with shock-rocker Alice Cooper on 1978’s concept album about getting clean and sober, From the Inside. But what seemed surprising at first glance wasn’t since the Cooper and Taupin team were close friends outside their professional careers.

“Alice had always been a friend of mine,” Bernie explained. “I think that when you’re in a situation like I was in, you have to find a crutch who’s in the same sort of condition or the same state that you are. Everybody’s familiar with Alice’s problems and I guess I didn’t help him [laughs].

“During that period Alice and I were inseparable. Alice was my best friend. After the Elton thing, Alice and I were basically living together up in his house. It was a messed up, fucked up time.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
Bernie and Alice Cooper during the recording of From the Inside in 1978 and still friends pictured at a 2006 charity event.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbYOxN8B4-c

“During that period Alice and I were inseparable. Alice was my best friend. After the Elton thing, Alice and I were basically living together up in his house. It was a messed up, fucked up time. We just figured that we’d try to do this thing together and we had always threatened to do a project together. It was just one of those things that fell together at the time.

“Like I said, I needed a crutch. Alice had sort of dried out at the time, and I think I was sort of going through the motions, not very well. But we spent so much time together that making that album was just a natural extension of our relationship.”

The album did include the hit single, “How You Gonna See Me Now” and a treasure trove of rockers. When prompted because of my love for the album, Bernie said: “Looking back on it, it was an interesting album. Yeah, there’s some good stuff on it. It was an interesting process, because it was two lyricists working together, which is very odd. But it’s interesting now, looking back, because I can see my lines and I can see his.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7GN5fOImg8

“There were things where I had complete lyrics and he would take little pieces out and put pieces of his own in there, but, yeah, it was an interesting project. And aside from my own personal projects and a few songs that I’ve written here and there with other people, as a collaboration in its entirety that album is the only thing I’ve done outside of Elton’s stuff.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDg0zL1IpS0
In this rare video, Bernie and Alice are working with composer Bruce Roberts on the darkly comedic and twisted ballad of two killers in love “Millie and Billie,” which Bernie quips is the result of “the meeting of three sick minds.”

First Steps Back Together

While Elton would continue to work with other lyricists for the next several years, following 1978’s A Single Man and his disastrous 1979 disco album Victim of Love, he did reach out to Bernie while writing for his next album 21 at 33, which would be his first album of the ’80s and the first hint at recapturing a bit of the ’70s magic.

“The first song we wrote again together was a song called ‘Two Rooms At the End of the World,’ which was about coming back together. There’s another song on there called ‘White Lady, White Powder,’ which speaks for itself.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

The three songs that Bernie would write for that album were also three autobiographical songs detailing where they’d been and a feeling that they would be there again. “The first song we wrote again together was a song called ‘Two Rooms At the End of the World,’ which was about coming back together. There’s another song on there called ‘White Lady, White Powder,’ which speaks for itself,” he says with a laugh. “They were all exorcism songs, like ‘Chasing the Crown.’

“They were songs saying, ‘Yeah, we’ve been there, now let’s get it back together.’ I think those three songs were all about getting back together. Unfortunately, with that album which was 21 at 33, those three songs were mixed in with a lot of substandard material and because of that I think a lot of people haven’t gotten to hear those songs, and they’ve gotten lost.

“It bothers me that people have become so obsessed with the Yellow Brick Road period. I know it was a good period and a lot of those early songs were good, but there’s a lot of really great songs and interesting songs that have gotten lost in the rebirth. Things like ‘Two Rooms,’ which is a really good song. It’s an interesting song. A lot of the material of the later period, which are some of the best songs we’ve ever written, are songs that a lot of people haven’t heard.”

The Full Reunion

While Elton and Bernie would collaborate on a handful of songs over the next few albums, including the previously mentioned hit ode to the memory of John Lennon, “Empty Garden,” it wasn’t until the late summer of 1982 that the two songwriters would be working together as they did in the beginning… and have been the only songwriters on all of Elton’s 14 studio albums from 1983’s Too Low For Zero through their most recent one, Wonderful Crazy Night in 2016.

“Looking Up” from Elton and Bernie’s most recent album, 2016’s Wonderful Crazy Night.

Their first full reunion, which took place for 1983’s Too Low For Zero also featured the return of the original band of Nigel Olsson, Dee Murray and Davey Johnstone. The classic Elton John sound was back and the impact was immediate. Their new anthem “I’m Still Standing” and Bernie’s beautiful ode to his second wife, Toni Russo, sister of actress Rene Russo, “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues” were monster hits on both radio and the new video world of MTV. Elton and Bernie were back!

Asked if this was a conscious attempt to recapture the glory days, Taupin replied: “I guess so. Too Low For Zero was the first album since Blue Moves where we wrote everything together. Before that, it had been a couple of songs here and there. Prior to that, we were both in the wasteland playing with other projects, and neither of us too successfully.

“We both knew that we wanted to work together again but we had to wait until it just fell into place. We knew that when the time was right it would just happen. Like everything else in our careers, we don’t pressure it. We just allow time to elapse until things fall into place, and that’s how it happened with the Too Low For Zero album. And it worked. It was a very successful album. I like that album.”

The magical reunion of Bernie and the original band continued the following year with the release of Breaking Hearts, featuring further hits “Sad Songs (Say So Much),” “In Neon” and “Who Wears These Shoes.”

“Actually, Breaking Hearts, the album after that, is really one of my favorite albums,” Taupin notes. “I think it’s my favorite album of that particular period, though Too Low’s got some very good songs on it.”

More Chart-Toppers

What’s little known by many fans of ’80s music is that two of that decade’s biggest hits were penned by Taupin, and they had nothing to do with Elton. Taupin had also begun working with composer/singer-songwriter Martin Page during this era.

Two of their songs went to Number One in a span of only four months! First came the Starship’s “We Built This City,” a song Bernie had written about the clubs in Los Angeles no longer supporting live bands and becoming dance clubs instead. It was a dark-edge look at how corporations were destroying the live music scene in the early ’80s. Martin Page wrote the music and recorded a demo.

The demo made its way to Starship, and their producer Peter Wolf (not the J. Geils Band lead singer), who played up the “we built this city” line with repetition. The cheesy video helped propel the song to the top of the charts.

Taupin and Page also wrote a song, “These Dreams,” specifically for Stevie Nicks who was enjoying her solo stardom, but the Fleetwood Mac frontwoman turned the song down. Bernie’s lyrics perfectly captured the aura of Stevie, but it was not to be so the song was shopped elsewhere and eventually recorded by the rock band Heart. The result was Bernie’s second chart-topping hit in less than four months.

Bernie with Nancy and Ann Wilson of Heart. Ironically it was guitarist Nancy who sang the 1985 Number One hit, “These Dreams,” which Bernie had originally written for Stevie Nicks.

In spite of all his successes, Bernie still doesn’t think of himself as a songwriter per se, saying, “There have been periods of time where I’ve been here and Elton’s been in England, and I’ve mailed him lyrics or we get together and I hand him things and go away. We have never, ever sat down side-by-side.

“That’s what songwriters do, and the last thing I ever consider myself to be is a songwriter. I know that sounds totally ridiculous, but I’m not really a songwriter in the textbook sense.

“Songwriters are people out there who sit in their little studios and crank out songs. I can’t do that; it bores the shit out of me. That’s why I don’t write much with other people. I do what I do in a very bizarre way, and I have my own terms and rules.”

New Directions

After the huge successes of Too Low For Zero and Breaking Hearts, as well as a massively successful world tour, Elton once again dropped his rhythm section of Olsson and Murray and moved into a soul and synth direction with his next two albums. Along for the ride was original producer Gus Dudgeon. The results were a mixed bag.

“Well, Ice on Fire was a slicker album because that was produced by Gus Dudgeon,” Bernie said, “while Too Low For Zero and Breaking Hearts were produced by Chris Thomas, who is far more of an edge-producer. Not to put Gus Dudgeon down, but I think Gus Dudgeon worked for his time. I think Ice on Fire was a little overly produced and a little too slick for my liking.”

Although the 1985 album did include another Top Ten hit, “Nikita,” and the Top 20 dance smash, “Wrap Her Up.”

The follow-up album in 1986, Leather Jackets, however would become one of Elton and Bernie’s worst-selling albums, even though it contains one of Bernie’s personally favorite songs.

“There’s a song on that album called ‘Hoop of Fire’ that is one of my favorite songs. I tried to get Roy Orbison to record it because I think he would have killed that song. We’ve also tried to get Eric Clapton to do it. I’d love to see somebody else do that songs because I honestly think it’s one of the best songs we’ve ever written.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“And the next album, Leather Jackets, absolutely died a death, even though I think there are a couple of tremendous songs on it that have been lost. I must admit that I think Gus just produced that album into the ground and just spent way too much time with it. It should have been a much edgier album, and it’s a shame that album has gotten lost because it has some very good songs on it.

“There’s a song on that album called ‘Hoop of Fire’ that is one of my favorite songs. I tried to get Roy Orbison to record it because I think he would have killed that song. We’ve also tried to get Eric Clapton to do it. I’d love to see somebody else do that songs because I honestly think it’s one of the best songs we’ve ever written.”

“Sleeping With the Past”

At the time of our interview in 1989, Elton and Bernie had just released their excellent album, Sleeping With the Past. Bernie’s love for their latest effort was understandable because it has gone on to become, arguably, the best album of the decade and one of the finest of their storied career. In fact, it is the best-selling album of their career in the U.K., and featured their first Number One single in their home country.

“My lyrics have had much more structure over the past ten years, and I think that has helped to make the songs better,” Taupin maintained. “People get trapped in nostalgia and will argue that the old songs are our best, but I think as songwriters we’re better than we’ve ever been, and I think this new album [1989’s Sleeping With the Past] proves that. I think these are the strongest, most uniform songs we’ve ever written.”

“The one thing I won’t do is live in the past. We’re not out to peddle nostalgia. I refuse to do that. If I honestly don’t feel that what I’m doing today isn’t the best work I’ve ever done, then I’m out of here. I wouldn’t want to do it anymore.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

Oddly enough, much of this change has to do with the fact that Bernie has taken to writing his lyrics with a guitar at hand. “Now when I write, I usually write with a guitar and just find chords. I don’t play guitar very well, I just know three chords but that’s enough to write a great song, just ask Leonard Cohen. But using a guitar just gives me a formula or a meter or a basis for a structure, so I don’t ramble on anymore.

“I’m sure some people will argue with that and say, ‘Yeah, but I like Yellow Brick Road and all those old songs,’ but I can’t do that. The one thing I won’t do is live in the past. We’re not out to peddle nostalgia. I refuse to do that. If I honestly don’t feel that what I’m doing today isn’t the best work I’ve ever done, then I’m out of here. I wouldn’t want to do it anymore.

“A lot of our recent albums have been fairly inconsistent,” he says candidly. “I wasn’t particularly happy with the last album [1988’s Reg Strikes Back], although it had its moments.”

The monster hit from 1988’s inconsistent album, Reg Strikes Back.

“I just feel that over the last few years, our albums haven’t really had a cohesiveness; they’ve tended to confuse people because the musical styles and song structures have been so conflicting that they go up and down, up and down. I know that’s a salute to our diversity but I also think it confuses people.”

An R&B Salute

“Before we went into the studio to make this album, I said to Elton, ‘Listen, we can’t make another album where people are going to say it’s just another Elton John album.’ I mean, we’re up to like 30 albums now, and I said that we had to get a theme or a springboard of what we’re going to do.

“I said that we have to sit down and decide what we want to make, and make a cohesive album with a collection of songs that sound like they all fit together. So we came up with the idea of going back and listening to the songs that inspired us when we first started writing songs, the time when R&B records were really great—the Chess days, the Stax records, and when Motown was at its peak.

“You know, the real glory days with people like Otis Redding, Sam & Dave, the Four Tops, the Supremes, Jackie Wilson, Lee Dorsey and Ray Charles. Those were the records that really got us off. So we decided to make an album that was a salute to those people and those songs. So I started dragging out all these old records and listening to them to get a feel, and we decided to basically make a white-soul album for the late ‘80s, and I think that’s what we’ve done.”

Club at the End of the Street

“What I would do is I’d take a song like a Drifters’ song and I’d try to write a Drifters’ type of lyric. There’s a song on the album called ‘Club at the End of the Street,’ which is probably the straightest emulation of the one of those songs.

“When you hear it, it has the feel of a song like ‘Under the Boardwalk.’ It’s a real Drifters-style song, and it might be the second single. So what I would do is I’d make notes at the bottom of the lyric sheet, like, ‘Think Drifters, think this or think that.’”

Healing Hands

“They’re not a pinch of a song though,” the lyricist makes clear. “If you hear the first single, ‘Healing Hands,’ it could be the Four Tops because it’s kind of got a ‘Reach Out, I’ll Be There’ feel to it lyrically. They’re a pat-on-the-back; they’re not rip-offs. Whether it’s the best choice as the first single, I don’t know, but it seemed to be the most anthemic.”

“I think when Billy Joel did it with the music of that particular era that he did [1983’s An Innocent Man], and he did it well, too, I think, but his was a more direct emulation of the sound. Our album is a salute. It’s all inspired, and it says that on the album, there’s a little thing on there that says, ‘These songs were inspired by the soul pioneers of the ‘60s and ‘70s, whose music meant so much to us.’

“Due to that it’s really given the album a cohesiveness. It’s not a concept album, but there’s a concept in the ideas. More than any other record we’ve made, like with Tumbleweed Connection, this sounds like an album. It sounds like it all belongs together and I’m really, really proud of that.

“We worked really hard on this record, and we worked hand-in-hand on this one, and I think it shows our songwriting at our very best. I think it’s the strongest album we’ve ever made. I won’t say it’s the best, because people will argue with that, but I certainly think it’s the strongest.”

Sacrifice

“My favorite song at the moment is a song on the new album called ‘Sacrifice,’ which has a simple lyric. But it’s an intelligent adult lyric. It’s basically about the rigors of adult love, and it’s a million miles away from ‘Your Song.’

“Elton came up with a brilliant melody, and his performance on it gives it a lot of integrity and meaning. It’s not a surface song, and I think you’ll probably see that one in the coming months become a big, big hit.”

Sure enough, “Sacrifice” would became a Top 20 hit in America and would also become Elton and Bernie’s first ever Number One single in England, after nine chart-toppers in the U.S.

Trapped By Their Past

When it comes to creating new material, veteran artists would find it tough to get their latest songs on the radio in the late ’80s as Corporate America was creating more classic rock stations and focusing on promoting nostalgia versus new music.

“Who wants to hear ‘Funeral For a Friend’ every fucking day of their life. More than anything, I want the songs I’m writing now to be on the radio. If there’s a spot there, I’m much rather have it be one of my new ones, not because I’m trying to sell my new material but because I think it’s equally viable.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

Bernie agreed with my assessment, saying: “I never ever listen to the radio. It’s just not something I do, because I figure why listen to the radio when I can play what I want to hear. And, quite honestly, radio today sucks. Radio needs a real good shake-up.

“Until they stop playing fucking ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ nothing’s going to change. And we’re just as much to blame. I mean who wants to hear ‘Funeral For a Friend’ every fucking day of their life [laughs].

“More than anything, I want the songs I’m writing now to be on the radio. If there’s a spot there, I’m much rather have it be one of my new ones, not because I’m trying to sell my new material but because I think it’s equally viable.

“The title of the new album is Sleeping With the Past, and the chorus is ‘don’t go sleeping with the past.’ In the context of the song, it doesn’t necessarily mean that, but I think it’s got a lot of connotations. It could be thought of as the album being based on old songs, and it could mean don’t go sleeping with the past.

“My motto has always been improve or die. I want to maintain my integrity and write the best material I’ve ever written, and I believe that I’m doing that. If I didn’t believe that, I’d just pack it up and write books.”

As for his hopes for their latest effort, the industry veteran is optimistic but knows that, ultimately, it’s all out of his hands. “I’m hoping that this album’s got legs because I think there are a lot of singles on this record. It’s tailor-made for radio without losing its integrity. Hopefully this album will be like a two-year album because I’d like to be in a situation where Elton and I don’t have to make another record for a few years.

“I think that would be great for us. So maybe this album will do that, and maybe it’ll fucking die overnight,” he says with knowing laughter. “Who knows? You can never tell in this business.”

“Dinosaurs”

Although at the time of our lengthy conversation in 1989 Taupin was still only 39 years old, in those days that was considered ancient in the music world. Of course today the legends are now touring in their Sixties and Seventies. Times have changed, but 30 years ago, ageism did exist in the music business.

“Music’s a healthy scene right now and sure I’d like to see some of the newer bands getting a chance on the radio,” Taupin concedes, “but, at the same time, it bothers me when younger groups say, ‘These old guys shouldn’t be out there, all these dinosaurs on the road.’ Hey, that’s their gig, that’s what they do.

“I don’t want some jerk from The Cure saying, ‘All these fucking dinosaurs should get out of the way. We’re out to change the world.’ Bullshit. There’s room for everybody.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“All these bands [reunite] and go out there. What are they supposed to do? That’s their job. It’s like being a carpenter or a plumber. If you play guitar, it shouldn’t be that you reach a certain age and you’re not allowed to do it anymore. There should be room for everybody. I mean, that’s their job.”

When I mention that I’d love to hear them tell the blues legend John Lee Hooker to hang it up, Taupin lets out a big laugh and says, “Exactly! I wouldn’t want to see these guys try and tell John Lee Hooker that. I mean whether you agree with the Doobie Brothers or The Who or Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Doodleflick getting back together, whether you like it or loathe it, there should be room for them to be allowed to do it.

“And if there are people that want to buy tickets to see them, good luck to them. But I don’t want some jerk from The Cure saying, ‘All these fucking dinosaurs should get out of the way. We’re out to change the world.’ Bullshit. There’s room for everybody. I think that’s just a case of sour grapes.”

https://youtu.be/e8RzSRIKGvs

Other Fav Songs

“Levon”

“It’s interesting, because I’m out on the road with Elton right now. It’s interesting when you hear some of those old songs onstage, because a lot of them sound much better, and I find myself re-evaluating them.

“Like the other night I was listening to Elton singing ‘Levon’ and I thought ‘God, that’s a really good song.’ It’s got that timeless quality to it. They sound much more powerful onstage now, because I guess technology has improved them. So every once in a while, I re-evaluate songs that I may have forgotten about.”

“Candle in the Wind”

“There are songs like ‘Candle in the Wind,’ which I think was a great marriage of a good lyric and a great melody. I mean, Elton’s probably the finest—his turn with a melodic phrase is unbeatable. When Elton’s on the ball, man, nobody writes melodies like Elton, and I’m proud to be the one who sticks the lyrics in there.”

Of course, the original version of “Candle in the Wind” on 1973’s classic double-album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road was Bernie’s tribute to Marilyn Monroe and the downside of fame. In 1987, the song became a Top Ten hit in America with the concert recording from the album Live in Australia.

Then in 1997, following the death of Princess Diana, Elton asked Bernie to rewrite the song for his late friend. The result was a solemn event seen around the globe and Bernie’s new lyrics turned “Candle in the Wind 1997” into the biggest selling single of all-time. A record that still stands today.

The John/Taupin Legacy

When it comes to incredible creative partnership of Elton John and Bernie Taupin, the wordsmith merely said: “I think the reason it’s worked so well so long is probably the old theory that opposites attract. I don’t think you can get two people who are more different than Elton and I. We don’t live in each other’s pockets. We’re like brothers, but we’re not best friends.

“It’s not a business relationship. We love each other dearly, but we have our own sets of friends and we’re both just very, very different people. I think the music is the thread that binds us together, and our love for it.

“We give each other enough space to conduct our lives, and we come together for the pure enjoyment of writing songs. I think if we were more intensely involved as people, and were the same kind of people, we’d drive each other nuts.

“I think that’s why it works, and we still enjoy what we do. We still get a buzz when we write a song. It’s never been a business. It’s always been a partnership that came together just for the love of creating good music.”

After Sting’s lengthy introduction at the Songwriters Hall of Fame, it’s nice to hear Elton and Bernie discuss their love of music and, more importantly, their love for each other.

Solo Projects

Over the years, Bernie has recorded a handful of his own albums. In 1971, he recorded a spoken word album, simply titled Taupin, with musical accompaniment from people like Elton’s guitarists Davey Johnstone and Caleb Quaye.

Bernie’s spoken word rendition of “The Greatest Discovery” that Elton recorded on his self-titled American debut a year earlier.

In 1980, Bernie made his singing debut on his album He Who Rides the Tiger. While the record didn’t find commercial success, there are some fantastic songs, such as the autobiographical epic “Approaching Armageddon” with the lines: Married young and with my guns / I blew her out of my life / It’s easy to hold on to time / But it’s hard to keep a wife

In 1987, Taupin returned with his third solo effort Tribe, which was definitely of the era of polished pop and videos, such as this one for “Friend of the Flag,” featuring his then-sister-in-law Rene Russo.

Also from the album was this suave video for “Citizen Jane.”

https://youtu.be/cUXQBorZil4

Farm Dogs

In 1996, I sat down with Bernie again to discuss his latest solo project, Farm Dogs, a roots-rock band that he formed with Rod Stewart’s former collaborators Jim Cregan and Robin LeMesurier, and Dennis Tufano, the former leader of the ’60s band The Buckinghams.

Farm Dogs rehearse in a dressing room before a television performance in 1996.
Pictured (L-R): Jim Cregan, Bernie Taupin and Robin LeMesurier.
(Photo By JOEY MCLEISTER/Star Tribune via Getty Images)

Their brilliant debut album, Last Stand in Open Country, echoes the rootsy vibe of Tumbleweed Connection and the best of The Band. From the haunting allure of “Barstool” and the shimmering sexuality of “Burn This Bed” to the anti-Hollywood acidic rant of “Ballad of Dennis Hopper and Harry Dean” and the title track that would later be recorded by Willie Nelson, the album made my published Top Ten Albums of 1996 list and continues to be a go-to listen nearly 25 years later.

The simmering heat of “Burn This Bed,” featuring Sheryl Crow on backing vocals.

The album was recorded at Taupin’s spacious ranch in Santa Ynez, California, amidst the lush green fields and rolling hills surrounding the home studio. The resulting album is a no-frills acoustic-based approach with illuminating songwriting at its best.

Sitting with Bernie and Cregan in an office in Beverly Hills, the quick wit and sarcasm that flew around the room non-stop perfectly dove-tails with the down-home, unpretentious vibe of their work. With his dog (and band mascot) sitting in his lap, Bernie explained: “The great thing about this band is that it’s a great leveler, because there’s no room for arrogance in this band.”

As Cregan nodded in silent agreement, Bernie continued “There are four fierce bullshit monitors in that room, and each of them has no fear of administering it. This band is notorious for massacring each other unmercifully, and for that reason it’s very healthy because it keeps everybody focused on a realistic path.”

Cregan chimes in: “If there were two harsh words spoken throughout the time we were making this album, that would be it.” Before pausing and adding with a laugh: “One of them would be ‘fuck’ and the other would be ‘you.'”

A brilliant Taupin lyric married to a haunting melody is a beautiful lost gem.

Recording at home helped the creativity flow without having to abide by time restrictions. “It really was like a summer boys’ camp,” Bernie explained. “Our wives or girlfriends were out in the city, so we all fended for ourselves, like Farm Dogs. The sessions were only regimented by our hangovers. It’s interesting what a couple of shots of tequila will inspire in one’s soul. I guess we’re the difference between the thinking man’s band and the drinking man’s band.”

The process of the writing was different for Taupin, who not only penned the lyrics but was also involved in the creation of the music. “It was four guys sitting in a circle; playing, singing and coming up with ideas. For me, the most exciting part of this project was being able to take my songwriting worth a step further. Aside from just being a man of words who has melodies in the back of his head, I was able to propel those melodies forward.”

A look at racial divides in this gripping tale of a mixed-race relationship.

Taupin takes a good-natured poke at his most famous songwriting partner when he says: “Not mentioning any names, but certain parties in my alternative career don’t tend to read the lyric before they write the melody, and we both laugh about that.”

His excitement at being involved throughout the evolution of the Farm Dogs material is infectious, as he continued: “Don’t get me wrong, because I’m fiercely proud of everything I’ve done in my career, outside of the ‘clinkers’ we all write at one time or another. It’s just that this project was a very special experience for me. It was one of the pleasures of my life to really see the melodic marriage of what I envisioned when I came up with the lyrics.”

The subtle power of “Pretty Bombs” featuring a harmony lead vocal by Cregan and Taupin.

In describing the band, Bernie says, “The special thing is to have four people working together who not only enjoy each other’s company, but who also admire each other musically and artistically. I think it’s something that all bands start out professing wanting to do, but it all seems to go to shit over the course of time.” He laughs and adds, “And it probably will with us, too.”

The title track that would later be recorded by Willie Nelson and Kid Rock in 2002.

The philosophy behind this special album is summed up by Taupin, who points to the epic title track and smiles confidently when he says: “The best part about artistic survival is using your talent to keep creating. That’s the whole gunfighter analogy of the story in ‘Last Stand,’ where when you get older there’s always someone coming up behind you to take your place, but you’ve still got bullets in your gun and you’re still dangerous. And I think we still have bullets in our guns, and believe me, we’re still dangerous.”

Farm Dogs did a small club tour in support of the album, including a memorable gig at The Troubadour where Elton launched his and Bernie’s career. Though acclaimed by critics, the album never scored big with mainstream radio although it did receive some solid rotation in smaller market Triple-A stations.

The band returned with a second album, Immigrant Sons, in 1998, which was a slightly more polished and more electric effort. Featuring more strong material, it didn’t quite capture the earlier magic of their debut. With a lack of airplay, the band dissolved after a brief tour.

I humbly recommend you pick up these two masterful Taupin albums.

Taupin the Visual Artist

At the dawn of the millennium, Bernie began his current career as a visual artist and his original artwork has been shown in galleries throughout North America over the past decade. Much of his work is of a patriotic nature for his adopted homeland of America through the use of the Stars & Stripes.

Thanks for more than 50 years of stories, Bernie.

John Paul Jones: Led Zeppelin’s Secret Weapon

John Paul Jones: Led Zeppelin’s Secret Weapon

By Steven P. Wheeler

For 12 years, from 1968-1980, Led Zeppelin dominated the rock world with an unparalleled blend of brutal thundering power and shimmering acoustic beauty, an intoxicating balance of darkness and light. From their explosive self-titled debut to their final and most diverse studio album In Through the Out Door (released 40 years ago today), Led Zeppelin would rapidly expand the boundaries of rock music into new realms.

John Paul Jones, Robert Plant and John Bonham in the studio adding some percussion elements to the classic “Whole Lotta Love” in 1969.

“Stairway to Heaven,” “Whole Lotta Love” and “Kashmir” alone represent the closest thing to Biblical Tablets music fans may ever find on the Mount of Rock; each unique unto themselves, each a fascinating mind-expanding journey that no band had dared embark upon before.

Selling an estimated 300 million albums around the world, Led Zeppelin—guitarist Jimmy Page, vocalist Robert Plant, bassist/keyboardist/multi-instrumentalist John Paul Jones and drummer John Bonham—and their flamboyantly intimidating manager Peter Grant broke all the existing rules of the music industry and all concert records along the way. And Zeppelin did it all without the support of mainstream music critics who largely despised them and their phenomenal success.

Led Zeppelin was truly the definition of a people’s band until it all came to a screeching halt on September 25, 1980 with the tragic death of drummer John Bonham—12 years to the day they began recording their first album.

Jack Black’s introduction speech of Led Zeppelin at the 2012 Kennedy Center Honors.

In early 2000, I sat down with John Paul Jones: Led Zeppelin’s Secret Weapon; the Quiet One who enabled the quartet to be totally self-contained as he was not only rock’s finest and most innovative bassists, but also a master keyboardist and someone who could literally play any instrument he laid his hands on. During his time with Zep, the former London-based session musician, composer, producer and arranger not only (officially) co-wrote half of the band’s tunes but also, just as importantly, he added the textures and layers that truly made Zeppelin unique.

“Ramble On” from Led Zeppelin II contains one of the most famous and intricate bass lines in rock history, just listen to John Paul Jones switch flawlessly from melodic beauty to rapid power and back again.

While Plant sang and blew a little harp on occasion and Page bounced from acoustic to electric guitars and Bonham propelled the band behind his drum kit, JPJ laid the rhythmic foundation with his bass playing mastery while adding piano, organ, clavinet, mellotron, synthesizers, mandolin, banjo or any little ingredient that would complete a particular Zeppelin stew. His amazing and versatile musicianship also allowed Zeppelin to bring their texture-ridden studio work to the stage.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cfc3rCQOuU

Led Zeppelin never once had supporting musicians join them in concert, keeping the magical diamond of musicianship within the four. This was due to Jones, whether playing keyboard and bass pedals concurrently or pulling out his triple-neck during the band’s now-famous acoustic sets in the middle of their legendary three-hour performances.

JPJ with his triple-neck during Zeppelin’s acoustic set on the 1977 tour.

Whether composing “No Quarter” or writing the riff of “Black Dog” or arranging the horns and strings on “Kashmir,” the importance of John Paul Jones to Led Zeppelin cannot be overstated. Without the classical, jazz, blues, pop and rock pedigree that this only child and musical prodigy from Kent brought to Zep, the band would never have achieved its status as one of rock’s most influential and successful acts in history.

Jones came up with the riff for “Black Dog” and the innovative and complex time signature.

Quietly Busier Than Ever

Jones’ vast array of abilities remain just as in demand today as they did all those years ago. Since his Zep days, Jones has played, produced and/or arranged for such mainstream superstars as R.E.M., Heart, Peter Gabriel, Lenny Kravitz and Paul McCartney while also showing off his love of musical diversity by working with lesser known acts like goth-rockers The Mission U.K., punk act the Butthole Surfers, and the avant-garde powerhouse Diamanda Galás. Not to mention his two solo albums in 1999 and 2001, Zooma and The Thunderthief, as well as some film scoring on the side.

In fact, over the past ten years, Jones, who turned 73 this past January, has been busier than most musicians half his age, including his hugely successful stint with the trio Them Crooked Vultures, which he co-founded with Nirvana/Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl and Queens of the Stone Age/Kyuss frontman Josh Homme.

Them Crooked Vultures’ 2009 self-titled album rocketed up the charts, hitting #12 on Billboard, and their raucous live appearances around the world left fans wanting more. Grohl, Homme and Jones all continue to say they will record another album together once each of their busy schedules allow.

Them Crooked Vultures doing “Scumbag Blues” on stage in 2010, featuring a powerhouse solo from Jones, who also provides some backing vocals.

More recently this master of his trade has recorded and played live with the American bluesman Seasick Steve, including on SS’s 2011 Top Ten U.K. album You Can’t Teach an Old Dog New Tricks, not to mention playing live as part of the jazz trio Tres Coyotes with celloist Anssi Karttunen and pianist Magnus Lindberg. And just last month, Jones announced his latest act Sons of Chipotle, in which Jones will move to piano along with Karttunen and experimental musician/producer Jim O’Rourke who worked previously as a member of Sonic Youth. They will be playing live next month in Japan.

JPJ playing with American roots artist Seasick Steve in 2013.

Meet Mr. Baldwin

Born John Richard Baldwin to a musical mother and a piano-playing father who was also a big band arranger in the ’40s and ’50s, like his future Zeppelin band mate Jimmy Page, the teenage Baldwin would become one of the most in-demand session musicians in London during the 1960s. The musical whiz kid was merely 16 when he went on the road in 1962 as the bassist for Jet Harris and Tony Meehan of the Shadows, who had formed a duo and recorded the chart-topping U.K. hit, “Diamonds,” which, ironically, featured Page on guitar.

With Meehan’s help, Mr. Baldwin began an amazing career as a session musician and arranger. At one point, in 1964, he even released his own solo recording, an instrumental called “Baja,” under his newly christened stage name: John Paul Jones, which came at the suggestion of Rolling Stones’ manager and producer Andrew Loog Oldham.

The instrumental single “Baja” by the teenage John Paul Jones in 1964 on Pye Records.
Teenage session musician and future member of Led Zeppelin John Paul Jones in a London recording studio circa 1965. (Photo by Mark and Colleen Hayward/Redferns)

Over the next several years, Jones would work with such major pop and rock acts as the Rolling Stones, Donovan, Jeff Beck, Cat Stevens, Tom Jones, Herman’s Hermits, Lulu, Dusty Springfield, and countless others. During a December, 1965 Donovan session, Jones would work with Page on “Sunshine Superman,” which hit #1 in America.

Recorded at the tail-end of 1965 with session players Jimmy Page on guitar and John Paul Jones on bass, “Sunshine Superman” topped the American charts and hit #2 in the U.K.

The following year Jones would also do the arrangement for Donovan’s other classic hit “Mellow Yellow,” and in 1968 Jones and Page would work together again on his #2 hit, “Hurdy Gurdy Man.” Jones played the bass, handled the string arrangement and booked the session players, including Page.

The “Lead Balloon” Session

In May of 1966, Jones took part in a fateful recording session for Jeff Beck—Page’s former band mate in the Yardbirds. The musicians on this now-famous recording of “Beck’s Bolero,” were Beck, Jones and Page, along with Who drummer Keith Moon and legendary session pianist Nicky Hopkins.

Although the track wouldn’t be released as a single until the following year, it was what happened during a break in that 1966 session that planted the seed for what would take over the lives of Jones and Page two years later. When someone mentioned that these five musicians should all form a group, Moon is said to have replied famously: “Oh no, that would go over like a ‘lead balloon’.” Apparently, Page remembered the joke and would dub his eventual new band: Led Zeppelin.

The result of the famous recording session that featured Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones, Keith Moon and Nicky Hopkins. During the 1966 session, someone mentioned that this quintet of talent should form a band to which Moon responded that such a band would be a disaster and go over like a “lead balloon” from which Page derived his future band’s name.

In late 1967, producer Reg Tracey brought together session players to back his vocalist discovery Keith De Groot. This track featured the nucleus of the musicians on the “Beck’s Bolero” session a year earlier: John Paul Jones on bass, Jimmy Page on guitar, and the late great Nicky Hopkins on keyboards who also wrote this particular track, “Burn Up.” These recordings were never released until the mid-‘70s to ride the Zeppelin wave of popularity.

Arranger Extraordinaire

Early in his studio career, Jones branched out rapidly from his bass and keyboard work and quickly became a highly sought after string arranger as well. One of Jones’ most famous arrangements was one he did for the Rolling Stones in 1967.

“She’s a Rainbow” was not a huge hit at the time, but it is incredibly popular today with it being used in TWO seemingly incessant TV ad campaigns—one for Acura and one for Dior. With those two commercials, the song from the Stones’ Their Satanic Majesty’s Request sessions has been brought back into the spotlight. The Stones even brought the song out of the closet and have played it during their 2019 tour.

JPJ’s creative string arrangement is featured on this lost Stones classic from 1967.

All these work-for-hire gigs at the time had their drawbacks as Jones recalled with a laugh: “Back in the ‘60s, I did an arrangement for Herman’s Hermits and there was one particular arrangement I did for a song called ‘There’s a Kind of Hush’ [for their 1967 album of the same name].

“It was a big hit for them, but it was an even bigger hit for The Carpenters [in 1976], who, more or less, used the same arrangement I did back in the ‘60s for which I was paid about 80 dollars,” he said with a hearty laugh. “So things have changed for me a bit because of that; my fees are a lot higher now,” he noted with a smile. “In those days they got a lot of value for their 80 bucks.”

“When I did the arrangements for R.E.M.’s Automatic for the People, Michael Stipe wrote me this really nice handwritten letter saying, ‘We really like what you do’ and he wrote down little things like ‘can the strings come in halfway through ‘Everybody Hurts’”

(Interview By Steven P. Wheeler)

When it comes to his work as an arranger, Jones pointed to charting the strings for the R.E.M. classic, “Everybody Hurts,” 25 years after his work with the Stones, as a guide. “I like doing arrangements because they’re quick and they’re usually a lot of fun,” he said during our conversation. “People will seek me out because they like the arrangements I’ve done before, so they’ll send me the tracks and leave me to do what I do. The most direction I’ll get is maybe something like, ‘We’d like the strings to come in halfway through the song,’” he laughs, “that’s the most instruction I tend to get.

“It’s like when I did the arrangements for R.E.M.’s Automatic for the People [in 1992], Michael Stipe wrote me this really nice handwritten letter saying, ‘We really like what you do’ and he wrote down little things like ‘can the strings come in halfway through ‘Everybody Hurts’ or on other songs maybe something like ‘please watch out for the guitar line that we would like to keep,’ so just little things like that. And that was it.

JPJ’s memorable string arrangement on R.E.M.’s immortal 1992 hit “Everybody Hurts.”

“I wrote out all the charts and arrangements, turned up and booked the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra,” explained Jones. “We had a great time for two or three days; had dinner, hung out and it was over.”

A few years later, in 1995, Jones served as the producer and arranger for The Road Home, a live “unplugged” styled album by hardcore Zeppelin devotees Heart. Jones not only helmed the project but also did the orchestra arrangements and played piano, bass and mandolin at the concert.

Heart’s guitarist Nancy Wilson recalled when the sisters met JPJ for the first time: “We had our first meeting at the Sit ‘n Spin, this laundromat/diner/bar across the street from Bad Animals Studio in Seattle. We had a pint together and we were just so beside ourselves at the excitement just to meet him. We were trying to act all nonchalant and natural around him and he just mentions in passing, ‘You know, I might just, perhaps, pick up a guitar now and then.’ It was, ‘Are you kidding, of course!’ We’d been afraid to ask. He’s so gifted.”

JPJ’s orchestral arrangement on this revamped version of Heart’s 1990 Top Ten hit. Jones appeared on the CD version of The Road Home album, but he is not present in this video.

Heart vocalist Ann Wilson recalled: “He really knows how to give himself to a situation. He’s had all these experiences in his life and these incredible levels but he can still come to Seattle and totally immerse himself in it and be cheerful and sincere and write these great string charts and play the mandolin and sit around afterwards and have a drink and tell stories.

“He spent a big weekend in his hotel room where he locked the door and just wrote all the string charts,” the singer said, “and I envisioned papers just flying through the air and pots of tea and stuff. It was so great. It was a great experience, top to bottom. And people around here are still talking about it.”

Back to the Beginning

By 1968, Jones was working an insane schedule of two or three sessions per day, six or seven days a week, and doing some 50 string and/or horn arrangements a month. While toiling away non-stop, it left little time for anything else in his life, musically or otherwise.

At only 22 years of age, he was feeling trapped by his own success. “I didn’t have a manager in those days,” Jones told me. “I did the work and my wife ran the diary. That was pretty much it. We did it together. In the pre-Zeppelin days I used to go at it tooth-and-nail, and accepted so much work.”

In search of and desperate for change, Jones said he needed out of the studio for his own sanity, and at the suggestion of his wife, Maureen, who he had just married the year before in 1967 (and, yes, they are still married 52 years later), he approached his old session mate Jimmy Page in the spring of 1968. Maureen had heard through the grapevine that Page was said to be forming a new band out of the ashes of the Yardbirds, who he had joined in 1966.

Page recalled that the chance meeting happened during a Donovan session in April of 1968: “I was working at the sessions for Donovan’s Hurdy Gurdy Man, and John Paul Jones was looking after the musical arrangements. During a break, he asked me if I could use a bass player in the new group I was forming. He had proper music training, and he had quite brilliant ideas. I jumped at the chance of getting him.”

With two of London’s most talented session players together, the “veterans” Page (all of 24) and Jones (only 22) were eventually joined by two completely unknowns only 19 and 20 years old, respectively—a raw blues wailing vocalist named Robert Plant and his mate and drumming powerhouse John Bonham.

As legend has it, the four gathered together in a small basement room on Gerrard Street in London in mid-August of ’68—just days before Plant’s 20th birthday—to see if there was any kismet between them. By the time they had finished a rough run-through of “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” it wasn’t so much magic as a musical epiphany!

Right from the get-go in August of 1968, John Paul Jones and John Bonham formed, arguably, the greatest rhythm section in rock history.

Jones described that first jam to me in one word: it was nothing short of an “explosion.” None of the four members had ever heard so much power and intensity coming from three instruments and a vocalist. They knew it then and there. This was new. This was magic. This was Led Zeppelin.

First “Zeppelin” Recording

The rest of the world would have to wait a few more months to hear this new sound as the quartet first had to fulfill some concert dates in Scandinavia under the name of the New Yardbirds in September of ‘68. What many Zep fans may not know is that just before hitting the road, Jones had been booked as the arranger at Olympic Studios for a session backing P.J. Proby for his album Three Week Hero.

As a way to get his new band familiar with the studio, Jones simply hired Page, Bonham and Plant as the band for the session. The result was that this would be the very first time the future Led Zeppelin quartet would be recorded in a studio together.

“Medley” from P.J. Proby’s Three Week Hero album is the first time the members of Led Zeppelin were recorded in a studio, mere weeks before recording their debut album.

Zeppelin Arrives

After the Proby sessions, they were off to Scandinavia for a series of gigs that brought the four together even more intensely, both in sound and focus. Upon their return to London, on September 25, 1968, the newly christened band once again entered Olympic Studios. This time it was to record their own album. Tight, rehearsed, and brimming with new confidence from their tour, the self-titled debut was recorded and mixed in less than 40 HOURS.

The intro of the first cut on that now classic album perfectly illustrated the dynamic arrival of two new words on the music scene: Led Zeppelin.

First cut on the first Zeppelin album clearly demonstrated the arrival of something new.

The Sound That “Shook” the World

When it comes to Led Zeppelin, it’s hard to explain in this day and age just how much they changed the sound of recorded music. One of the biggest innovations that Zeppelin brought to the world of music was a mic’ing technique that captured an in-your-face gargantuan sound, which dwarfed the often-muddled sounds that came before, especially in the area of drums.

Much of this could be attributed to the years of studio experience that both Page and Jones had put together. As Jones noted, unlike most session players who would take a tea break or read books during the inevitable down time, he and Page were studio nerds who would spend that time in the studio watching and learning about sounds and techniques from the engineers and producers, and with Zeppelin this knowledge and their own experimentation all came to fruition.

Take this example of Willie Dixon’s blues classic “You Shook Me” by the Jeff Beck Group with Rod Stewart on vocals (and a certain John Paul Jones on organ) from Beck’s iconic Truth album versus the recording of the same song by Zeppelin on their first album.

Note that both of these recordings took place at Olympic Studios only four months apart. And while both are classic renditions in their own right, the studio sound captured by Zeppelin was truly groundbreaking in 1968 and brought an all-new dimension to rock recordings.

It’s also interesting to hear the vastly different organ solos from John Paul Jones. There is the controlled, concise and safe approach under the direction of producer Mickie Most on the Beck version and the no-holds-barred, break all the rules approach that was Led Zeppelin.

The Business of Zeppelin

Without a record deal when they went about recording their first album, Page and the band’s legendary manager Peter Grant paid all the studio costs for their debut in just the first of many examples of how Led Zeppelin would change the business of the music industry forever. By paying for the album themselves, they would be literally selling the band and their album to a record company, which they ultimately did with legendary Atlantic Records’ co-founder Ahmet Ertegun.

“[Peter Grant] would always say, ‘You take care of the music and I’ll take care of the business.’ It was a simple division. He certainly revolutionized the touring business. It was a 60/40 split before Zeppelin came along. Peter straight out told promoters that if they wanted Zeppelin it was 90/10. He knew that the artist was getting ripped off by just about everybody and he wanted to change it.”

(Interview By Steven P. Wheeler)

From that point forward, Zeppelin would retain control of their own destiny; free of record company interference in their artistic process as Grant would handle everything outside the music. And in so doing, he would single-handedly change many of the archaic systems of an industry that benefited everyone but the artist. In Grant’s mind, he worked for the band, not the other way around, which had often been the conventional thinking.

Jones on keyboards and also playing bass with his feet, during “Misty Mountain Hop” at this 1973 Madison Square Garden concert in New York.

Jones had nothing but the highest praise for their late manager, noting that the physically intimidating ex-wrestler was perfect for the band. “In terms of Zeppelin, what Peter Grant did for us was he kept everyone away. He would always say, ‘You take care of the music and I’ll take care of the business.’ It was a simple division.

“He didn’t say anything about the music, other than ‘that’s great,’” Jones said, jokingly, “but he would keep everyone away from us so we could get on with creating and making the music. We didn’t even have a management contract with Peter Grant for many years. It was all on trust, and you can’t buy that kind of thing.”

Although Jones snickered as he recalled that eventually the band did have to draw up an agreement with their manager at the behest of their record label who eventually discovered that fact. “Of course when Atlantic Records found out that we didn’t have a contract with Peter a few years after we signed with them, they made us put one together.”

JPJ shows one of his new musical toys to Zeppelin manager Peter Grant.
Grant died of a heart attack in 1995 at the age of 60.

When I mention that no matter how great Zeppelin was, it seems that they would have never achieved their landmark success without the involvement of Grant. Jones enthusiastically agreed: “Oh yes, absolutely. I absolutely agree with that. He was a brilliant manager.

“He certainly revolutionized the touring business. It was a 60/40 split before Zeppelin came along.” With a smile at the memory, Jones continued, “Peter straight out told promoters that if they wanted Zeppelin it was 90/10, and that’s kind of how it’s been ever since.” Promoters soon realized that with the amount of business that Zeppelin pulled in, 10 percent was better than nothing at all and they all fell into line.

“Peter really did single-handedly change all of that,” Jones explained. “He really and truly believed that the artist should get their due. He knew that the artist was getting ripped off by just about everybody and he wanted to change it.”

Led Zeppelin’s intimidating manager Peter Grant goes ballistic backstage after discovering that the facility had fake vendors selling bootleg Zeppelin posters and ripping off his band.

As for his reputation as a brawler and intimidating businessman, Jones noted: “Peter Grant was a very fair man and if you played ball and were fair with him, he’d be fair with you. There must have been a lot of concert promoters who hated his guts, but there were a lot of promoters that we worked with who really respected him and knew that his word was very honorable.

“Ahmet [Ertegun, the co-founder and president of Atlantic Records] said to Peter: ‘You have got to have a single. If you put out a single, you’ll easily sell 800,000 singles.’ And Peter just stood his ground and said, ‘No, there are to be no singles.’ And sure enough we would sell 800,000 albums instead [laughs].”

(Interview By Steven P. Wheeler)

“Aside from what he did in terms of the concert business, Peter also got Zeppelin really good royalty rates. We obviously did very well touring, but we also deal very well on the record side. We really sold a lot of records, we really did!

“In the days of Zeppelin, even our record label was saying that ‘You have to put out a single in order to sell albums,’ Jones said with an eyeroll. “That’s a great Peter Grant story, where Ahmet [Ertegun, the co-founder and president of Atlantic Records] said to Peter: ‘You have got to have a single. If you put out a single, you’ll easily sell 800,000 singles.’ And Peter just stood his ground and said, ‘No, there are to be no singles.’ And sure enough we would sell 800,000 albums instead [laughs].

“The only thing we didn’t really do in those days was merchandising. Those were the days before people really understood merchandising. There just weren’t the setups like there are today. But between touring and record sales, we did really well because Peter made really good deals.”

Swan Song

With their fame reaching the stratosphere in 1974, Grant and Zeppelin created their own record company Swan Song. Within a year of forming the company, Swan Song had four albums in the Billboard Charts at the same time—Bad Company’s classic self-titled debut, Zeppelin’s double-album juggernaut Physical Graffiti, Pretty Things’ Silk Torpedo and Maggie Bell’s Suicide Sal.

“Trampled Under Foot” from Led Zeppelin’s epic 1975 album Physical Graffiti, which was the first of their albums to be released through their own record company, Swan Song.

“Peter Grant was sort of driving Swan Song,” Jones said. “There was Bad Company and Maggie Bell and the Pretty Things and Detective for a while. The four of us were somewhat involved but it got kind of loose in those days, to be honest. In retrospect, I don’t think that we should have been trying to run a record company as well as our own career in Zeppelin.”

The company closed its door in 1983. “It was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time,” he admitted. “It worked well for a while, but then everybody had other stuff to attend to after a while. So it probably wasn’t the most successful venture overall.”

Behind the Songs

As for the internal band business of songwriting, Jones says now that he wished that he had done things differently with Zeppelin in retrospect. “My advice for musicians in bands is to make sure that the way you determine writings credits is worked out fairly early on and perhaps even put it down on paper.

“Led Zeppelin was a partnership between four people and sometimes when you see these ‘Page/Plant’ songwriting credits on everything, it looks like it was a Lennon/McCartney type situation where they wrote everything and we just kind of learned it from them. I was stunned that people really thought that because it’s so far from the truth.”

(Interview By Steven P. Wheeler)

“I probably should have paid more attention to the writing credits in the earlier days, but in those days I would say, ‘Well, I wrote that, but, hell, I guess it’s just part of the arrangement or whatever,’ not realizing that it had more to do with the writing than just arranging it.”

While Jones was credited on writing 31 of the 73 songs that were released during Zeppelin’s existence, I asked if all four members should have been credited on everything like other bands have done. “That’s probably true, but it wasn’t that way. I also thought that John Bonham’s contribution was much more than the dozen or so he ever got credit for. I know it was much more than a handful of songs.”

John Bonham, John Paul Jones, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant hamming it up for the camera during rehearsals for their 1977 tour.

Asked to explain how Zeppelin created their music, Jones said matter-of-factly: “Here’s the thing, Led Zeppelin was a partnership between four people and sometimes when you see these ‘Page/Plant’ songwriting credits on everything, it looks like it was a Lennon/McCartney type situation where they wrote everything and we just kind of learned it from them.

“In fact, a journalist once asked me that question, he said, ‘So did [Page and Plant] just write the songs and then teach them to you and Bonham?’ And my mouth just flopped open. I was stunned that people really thought that and I couldn’t even think of an answer because it’s so far from the truth [laughs].

“To start with Robert used to usually write the lyrics last after we had completed the track, but he was credited on every song because there are lyrics on every one, but sometimes we would send him back to rewrite them,” he said with a laugh. “But whatever, I’ve done fine out of the whole thing. It’s bought me endless studios and the freedom to do what I want musically, so I shouldn’t complain.”

Jones, Plant, Page and Bonham are all smiles in the fields around Knebworth in 1979 in what is one of the final photos of Led Zeppelin ever taken.

It was on the band’s final album, In Through the Out Door, that Jones was credited on all the tracks, with the exception of the pseudo country-rocker “Hot Dog.” The reason for this is simple: Jimmy Page just wasn’t around much, reportedly fighting his heroin demons. “I was always involved in the songwriting, but I just got more credits on that album because Page was less involved. At the rehearsals, Robert and I more or less wrote the whole album together.”

At the time, Jones had purchased the incredibly huge Yamaha GX-1, a 600-pound behemoth of a complex polyphonic synthesizer organ that he dubbed “the Dream Machine,” which he would also play at the band’s two Knebworth gigs around the time of the album’s release.

JPJ at the massive “Dream Machine” at the 1979 Knebworth concerts. Most of the band’s final album was written by Jones.

Probably one of the chart-topping album’s most memorable songs is “All My Love,” written by Jones and Plant. Jones’ inspired melody and playing gave a heavenly lift to Plant’s touching lyrical ode to his son, Karac, who had tragically died of a stomach virus at the age of five, one year before their final recording sessions.

Written by JPJ and Robert Plant, this tribute to Plant’s five-year-old son who had died the previous year features beautiful lyrical answer licks from Page and a symphonic sound from Jones, who also contributes one of the ’80s most memorable synth solos in the middle.

The Zeppelin Rift

With the death of John Bonham in September of 1980, Led Zeppelin would fly no more in a recording studio. In the wake of the Zeppelin break-up, Plant embarked on his still ongoing solo career, Page joined up with Bad Company vocalist Paul Rodgers in The Firm for two albums, and Jones took the early ‘80s off to spend time with his wife and three daughters. The three surviving members did get together for a couple of one-off performances, but nothing seemed to carry on beyond that.

“We did try various things,” Jones admitted to me during our meeting in 2000, “but we always knew that there was no Zeppelin. No John Bonham, no Zeppelin; simple as that. But there was the feeling that the three of us had worked together for 12 years, so there seemed no reason not to have another go at some point.

“What would happen over the years is that we would end up together for a reunion of sorts; like Live-Aid [in 1985] or the Atlantic 40th Anniversary Concert [in 1988]. And we would immediately say, ‘This feels good, let’s try something.’ At one point, we did try something with [drummer] Tony Thompson, who played with us at Live-Aid, but for one reason or another the enthusiasm would wane and it never came off. Robert was always much more concerned and focused with his solo stuff and never really wanted to get involved with us.”

Jones, Plant, Page and drummer Tony Thompson at the time of Live-Aid in 1985. For a time, these four almost reformed as Led Zeppelin. Thompson, who was best known as the drummer for Chic and Power Station, died of kidney cancer in 2003 at the age of 48.

Things came to a head between the three Zeps when Page and Plant decided to get together again but without Jones. Many fans, including myself, thought this was very cavalier treatment towards their former partner in crime, but, behind the scenes, it was even worse.

“I think [Robert] got involved with Page, without me, perhaps thinking that it wouldn’t be Zeppelin, but then they started doing all Zeppelin songs [laughs]. I remember the press contacting me and asking me what I thought of No Quarter, presumably meaning their album, and I said, ‘I always reckoned it was one of my best tunes.’”

(Interview By Steven P. Wheeler)

Neither Page nor Plant had even bothered to call Jones to let him know that it was happening, leaving him to field incessant calls from the media about why he was not involved with the project. In fact, Jones found out by accident when rumors of a Zeppelin reunion were heating up again in 1993.

“Every year since Zeppelin broke up there would be talk of a reunion and all of that,” Jones said. “So at some point in early ’94, I was talking with one of the band’s business associates and I said, ‘I see the rumors are getting bad again,’ like a joke. And he said, ‘Oh, haven’t they told you?’

“I went, ‘Whaddya mean? Told me what?’ And he said, ‘Well, they’re working together, but, of course, they’re not doing Zeppelin material.’ So I was like, ‘Okay, whatever.’ It wasn’t so much that I thought they should include me with what they were doing. I just thought I should have been informed.”

At the time, Jones had just finished producing an album called The Sporting Life with the avant-garde American soprano/composer Diamanda Galás, and they ended up taking the show on the road.

Jones teamed up with American avant-garde artist Diamanda Galás for her album, The Sporting Life, and the two toured together at the time Page/Plant were working together.

It was during that European tour that Jones saw what his former partners were doing. Their claim of not doing Zeppelin material was not so true after all. “While I was on the road touring with Diamanda in Germany I saw [their No Quarter concert] on TV and it was 95 percent Zeppelin songs they were playing [laughs]. I was thinking, ‘Hmm, this organ part sounds familiar and then my bass parts came in and then my string parts came in.’ So I just thought, ‘Okay, so that’s how it’s gonna be then.’”

“I think [Robert] got involved with Page, without me, perhaps thinking that it wouldn’t be Zeppelin, but then they started doing all Zeppelin songs [laughs]. I remember the press contacting me and asking me what I thought of No Quarter, presumably meaning their album, and I said, ‘I always reckoned it was one of my best tunes.’ So I would get out of those things gracefully with a little wit.

“It was very, very strange for them to call their album No Quarter. I don’t know, I just never understood it. I remember that Robert said at one point: ‘It would have been different if [Jones] was involved,’ which is damn right and probably why they didn’t want me along,” he added with a laugh.

One of JPJ’s most memorable tracks, “No Quarter,” featured here during the 1973 tour.

This behind-the-scenes drama became public at Led Zeppelin’s 1995 induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame when Jones made a brief yet pointed statement from the stage, which left his former colleagues uncomfortable and the audience in hysterics.

JPJ takes a pointed jab at his former band mates at Led Zeppelin’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1995.

“I just could never understand why they couldn’t just pick up the phone, which is why I said what I said at the Hall of Fame thing,” Jones explained. “That was just a bad day because there was just this strange vibe going on. Nobody would talk to each other. It was just a horrible day when it really should have been a good day. That whole situation really ruined it.”

“I just felt like I had to say something and I felt a whole lot better when I did, and the noise of the laughter coming from the press table was a joy to hear I have to say,” Jones told me.

Page and Plant’s next album, the bland and disappointing Walking into Clarksdale in 1998 put an end to that collaboration, and as Jones noted: “In the final analysis, they did me a favor because I got to focus on doing my first solo album and I’m excited about it and doing this tour.”

By 2000, during our conversation, it seemed that things may have settled down a little bit but the wedge still seemed to be present. “We see each other for business purposes; meetings and stuff like that. It’s a formal relationship these days, let’s say,” Jones explained. “We get together when projects like the remastering of the albums comes up or releasing something like the BBC Sessions, and all of us have to agree unanimously or it doesn’t happen. That’s how it was always set up.”

Initial Post-Zep Career

While Jones’ post-Zeppelin career has really been on roll over the past 25 years, after taking a career sabbatical for the first half of the ‘80s, he admitted to finding things a tough-go once he started to look at working again. His legendary Zeppelin career actually made people forget what he did before that lead balloon first took flight.

“For a while I did try and get some film work but I was running into people thinking: ‘He’s a rock bass player, what does he know about scoring or arranging?’ People had forgotten or never knew that I had done all this stuff before. They would only know me from Zeppelin.”

(Interview By Steven P. Wheeler)

Jones first ran into issues when he looked into doing some film scoring. “I had been working for 18 solid straight years by the time Zeppelin finished, so it was a good time to take a break and be with the family because the kids were growing up and I got to spend some time there. I never really worried that I wouldn’t get work when I decided to go back, but it was kind of hard right after Zeppelin.

“For a while I did try and get some film work but I was running into people thinking: ‘He’s a rock bass player, what does he know about scoring or arranging?’ People had forgotten or never knew that I had done all this stuff before. They would only know me from Zeppelin, so no one would give me any work.

“I did dabble in it, but the first film [1984’s Scream for Help] wasn’t very good,” he admitted. “In fact, it went straight to video [laughs]. It’s one of those things where if I want to make a career of it then I would need to move to Hollywood and pretty much accept every project that comes along, which is what I had to do back in the session days. But there are a couple songs from the Scream For Help soundtrack I did which are quite good and appropriate to play on this tour I’m doing.”

“Silver Train” from the Scream for Help soundtrack, written by John Paul Jones and former Yes frontman Jon Anderson, who is also featured on vocals.

“It wasn’t just me though,” he pointed out, before recalling a conversation he had with the Beatles’ producer and composer Sir George Martin. “That’s how the business can be. I remember George Martin telling me once that he scored a film called Honky Tonk Freeway [a 1981 British comedy flop] with an elephant water skiing in it. And they actually told him that they didn’t think he would be able to score a scene with an American marching band in it because he wasn’t American and wouldn’t know how. I mean, this is George Martin, right? [laughs].

“A lot of these film people are really worse than music industry people, and that’s saying something, with all due respect. You know the kind of people I’m talking about, don’t you, Steve?,” he asked rhetorically.

“Everything is decided by committee as well, so it can be quite interesting at times. Of course there are the people who say, ‘I know what I want and I know you can do it, let’s get it on.’ But there are very few of those people in the movie business.

“You accept every gig that comes along and then you can start to pick and choose, and I didn’t want to do that with film scoring, starting an all-new career like that. I didn’t do that with production either by the way. I turned down so much stuff by some really well-known people, for no other reason than I just didn’t think it was me or because I didn’t feel like I could really bring anything else to the project except my name.

“Film scores are pretty much like that for me. I really didn’t want to work that hard to get into the system and then have to take on projects whether you liked them or not and then be driven crazy with deadlines, and having to send copies of the scores in taxis in the middle of the night and trying to get orchestras together. I’ve done all of that. It would have been like the old days.”

JPJ Producer

Eventually Jones turned his attention to producing and worked himself back into studio life. “It was kind of tough going there in the early ‘80s, but then I got work producing The Mission [the goth-rock act known as The Mission UK in the States] on their second album in ’87, but even then I ran into these weird things. I remember wanting to do this John Hiatt album and the label guy said, ‘Well, we really can’t see your relevance to John Hiatt.’ Relevance? It’s music! What are these people talking about? [laughs]. I understand his music perfectly, what’s up?’

“Production is much more time consuming,” Jones noted, “especially the way I produce. I tend to make sure that the band really knows what they’re going to be recording, so I spend a lot of time in pre-production before we ever go in the studio because it’s the band’s money you’re spending.

“People think the record company is paying for it, but the band is and I tell them that: ‘Look, you’re paying for this. You really want to use your studio time wisely.’ So I’ll work three months or more when I do a production and I work very hard for them, as any band I’ve worked with will tell you. Production is just much more time consuming so I’m less interested in doing that these days.

Jones continued on as a producer through the ‘90s, taking on a very diverse roster of acts, including the unlikely choice of the controversial American hardcore outfit the Butthole Surfers; helming their sixth album 1993’s Independent Worm Saloon which became the band’s first effort to make the Billboard Charts.

First Solo Album

By 1999, Jones had finally decided to take the plunge and record his very first solo album Zooma, an instrumental rock album that he released on Discipline Global Mobile, the artist-centric indie label founded by King Crimson’s Robert Fripp.

“I share management with Fripp and I asked my manager: ‘What does Robert do with his label?’ Because I was interested in finding someone who is kind of a maverick where the industry is concerned. So the first thing he told me was: ‘There are no contracts, it’s all on trust. If you don’t like them you can leave whenever you want.’

“That really reminded me of the early days of Led Zeppelin, so not having a contract with Robert’s record label wasn’t so strange to me. And they also have this ethical policy whereby the artist keeps all their copyrights and masters, and they pay a very good royalty rate and they have very good distribution with Rykodisc in America and Pinnacle in the U.K. They also have a good internet presence and a great mail-order service and a really good setup.

“They had built up all these alternative forms of promotion and distribution, because a lot of their stuff isn’t wildly commercial. Plus they loved the album, so I met with Fripp and he struck me as a fairly decent chap, he’s a great guitarist, and now he’s my new label boss [laughs].”

“Snake Eyes” from JPJ’s 1999 solo debut, Zooma, featuring his string arrangement that he conducted with the London Symphony Orchestra, while also playing bass, lap steel, organ and Kyma.

As for as commercial expectations of Zooma, Jones had no illusions that an instrumental rock album will find a mainstream audience in today’s marketplace, but that was never the intention. “This album isn’t going to be a huge chart album, so I want to do a lot of press and promotion and touring so that everybody at least gets to know about it and has a crack at hearing it because they might like it. I just want to give this album its best possible chance.

“People will say that instrumental rock in this day and age won’t sell, but I always point to Tracy Chapman and say, ‘Could anybody have said that a black female folk singer was going to take the charts by storm?’ People would have said you were off your head.”

“In the old days when I first started in the early ‘60s, there was a ton of instrumental rock with Duane Eddy and the Ventures and the Shadows. There were all sorts of people doing instrumental rock and then the Beatles came along and killed it stone-dead.”

(Interview By Steven P. Wheeler)

Jones went on to say that he was focused on creating an actual instrumental album because he knew what would happen otherwise. “I knew that if I brought in a singer that I would stop being an instrumentalist and a composer and I would quickly become a producer and an arranger. I knew that’s what I would do by instinct. I would begin to immediately work on songs with lyrics and spend all my time trying to make the singer sound good and make sure he sang them all perfectly, and my compositions would have just fallen by the wayside.

“I just didn’t want to do that, and, to be honest, I’m just not that interested in song-based rock at the moment. And no one else is doing instrumental rock right now so I kind of have the field to myself,” he said, with a laugh. “That’s one way to cut down on the competition, right? Do something that nobody else is doing.

“But creating instrumental music is a challenge because there are no lyrics and no singing to hang anything on,” Jones continued. “It’s like a classical composition or jazz, which are by definition instrumental music. It’s just that these days rock music isn’t.”

The irony is that when he was a teenager, instrumental music was en vogue, unlike today. “In the old days when I first started in the early ‘60s, there was a ton of instrumental rock with Duane Eddy and the Ventures and the Shadows. There were all sorts of people doing instrumental rock and then the Beatles came along and killed it stone-dead [laughs].

“When I was with Jet Harris and Tony Meehan we had three Top Ten hits in about four or five months. They were all instrumentals and then suddenly the Beatles came along and I don’t think there was another instrumental rock record after that.”

First Solo Tour

Going out on tour behind the album was also central to Jones’ approach to the album after getting back onstage with Diamanda Galás in ’94: “I really got the playing bug again with Diamanda,” he said. “After the Zeppelin days, I did a lot of producing, arranging and composing, but playing live wasn’t one of them. And I realized just how much I really missed it when we went on the road, and I got the bug again.

“With my album, I’m going on the road and will be playing for people that I can actually see which will be nice,” Jones said about the smaller club date tour. “When you can see faces you can get a really different kind of feedback from your audience and I’m really looking forward to that. That’s how Zeppelin started, playing in small clubs and taking your music to the people. This album serves two functions in a way: I get to do my solo album but I also get to have a body of work that allows me to go out and play live onstage.”

JPJ during his solo tour at the House of Blues in Los Angeles, where he surprised everyone by singing the Zeppelin favorite “That’s the Way” from the band’s third album.

“There are surprisingly very little overdubs on the album. A lot of it was done with pedals and live electronics, so when it sounds like a ton of guitars, they aren’t really. It’s me hitting a pedal with some processing. This album was designed to be played live, and with the live show, it will be drummer Terl Bryant from Aztec Camera, Bauhaus, and loads of sessions, and Nick Beggs playing a Chapman Stick.

“I’ll play the multi-string basses and the lap steel guitar, so when I’m playing the lap steel, the Chapman Stick will handle the bass, and when I’m playing the bass, Nick will play the guitar side of the Chapman. There will be a lot of swapping around during this tour. I’ll also play some keyboards onstage that will also handle the string parts.”

Jones also noted at the time that he was already mentally piecing together his second solo effort. “Brain-wise I’m already halfway through the next album. I’ve got all sorts of ideas I want to do.” Sure enough, Jones’ second solo album, The Thunderthief, would ultimately be released in 2001 and this time featured three tracks with JPJ doing vocals, including his humorous post-punk rocker “Angry Angry.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epCLAsI_ocA
The tongue-in-cheek post-punk rocker featuring lyrics and vocals from JPJ.

Zeppelin Flies Again

By 2007, the rift between Jones and Page/Plant had healed enough for one final Led Zeppelin reunion. This time it was to celebrate the memory of the late music business legend Ahmet Ertegun; the man who signed Zeppelin all those years ago and who had passed away in December of 2006 .

And all three surviving members were determined to do it right by bringing in Jason Bonham to fill his father’s drum stool for a full-length concert. It was to be a true Zeppelin family affair. Unlike the ramshackle Live-Aid and less-than-memorable Atlantic Records 40th Anniversary mini-sets, this was to be a full-blown Zeppelin extravaganza; the first in 27 long years and the band spent six weeks of rehearsal in preparation.

The ticket demand for the charity event at the 02 Arena in London literally brought down the internet as more than 20 million fans from around the world registered at the same time in hopes of securing one of the 20,000 available tickets. Those lucky 20,000 were treated to an awe-inspiring 18-song set that showed the magic of the Mighty Zeppelin one more time as they effectively put a final exclamation point on the band’s enduring legacy.

Plant, Page Jones and Jason Bonham stunned the world by putting on a stellar one-off concert that demonstrated the power and majesty of Led Zeppelin one final time.

The memorable concert was finally released on Blu-ray and DVD in 2012. At the time of that delayed release, Jones summed it up by joking: “Five years is like five minutes in Zeppelin time. I’m actually surprised we got it out so quickly.”

In July of 2008, less than a year after Zeppelin’s celebrated 02 reunion concert, the Foo Fighters brought up Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones for their encores at Wembley Stadium, including this take on the classic “Ramble On,” featuring Jones and Page at full strength.

One Final Honor

Five years after the now legendary 02 reunion, Led Zeppelin received massive public acclaim once more in 2012 when they were honored by the prestigious Kennedy Center for their artistic contribution to American culture; which would have been unheard of during their wild-eyed heyday. But times change and 50 years after they first blasted out of stereo speakers and radios, Led Zeppelin will forever be mentioned as one of the, if not THE greatest rock band in the history of music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huztn5XHKO8
John Paul Jones steals the show with his wit during Zeppelin’s appearance on David Letterman the evening following the Kennedy Center Honors in 2012.
Heart’s epic rendition of “Stairway to Heaven” with Jason Bonham on drums during the Kennedy Center Honors. Watch the emotional reaction from Robert Plant when the choir appears wearing his late best friend John Bonham’s trademark bowler hat. After the broadcast of Heart’s live performance with an orchestra and choir, this rendition was made available on iTunes for two weeks and it immediately topped the charts.

And last but not least, I’m gonna wrap things up with this sublime and beautiful Jones-focused Led Zeppelin outtake from 1976’s Presence, which was the only Zep album not to feature any of JPJ’s keyboards. This gorgeous instrumental demonstrates that Jones did indeed play some piano and compose during those sessions after all. Enjoy the majestic ivory tickling talents of Mr. John Paul Jones.

Ronnie James Dio Memories

Ronnie James Dio Memories

By Steven P. Wheeler

In the Spring of 1978, my 14-year-old self was sitting on the piano bench in the family living room with the Sunday Calendar section of the Los Angeles Times in hand, my Sunday ritual prior to this internet thing. As always I skipped to the Pop Music section to see what new albums I could learn about.

On this day, there were two brief album reviews stacked on top of one another. The first one was about the debut album from a band in Pasadena called Van Halen. The paragraph-long review boasted of this young six-string wunderkind named Eddie Van Halen who was seemingly reinventing hard rock guitar.

The next one was about the fourth album from a band called Rainbow, Long Live Rock ‘n’ Roll. The focus of this little review was about that band’s veteran guitarist Ritchie Blackmore, who I of course knew about from his days in Deep Purple. Not a huge Purple fan but their Machine Head and Made in Japan albums were of course in my rapidly growing vinyl collection.

The brief 1978 review in the L.A. Times that introduced me to Ronnie James Dio.

Intrigued by these two competing guitar heroes—one new, one old—I walked the mile to my home-away-from-home; my personal and most holy Mecca, better known to the outside world as The Wherehouse. Within a few hours I was home, two new albums in hand, tossing them on the turntable, slipping on the headphones and drifting away.

These two hard rock albums couldn’t have been more different to my young ears. Van Halen was bristling with energy and vitality, while Rainbow was much more adventurous with a blues-based foundation that married fantastical lyrics with an almost medieval power that was unrestrained, with echoes of Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” in songs like “Gates of Babylon.”

Oddly enough, after a few hours, it wasn’t Eddie or Ritchie that had grabbed me most. It was the ferocious vocal sneer of this guy in Rainbow with the name of Ronnie James Dio, who apparently also wrote the lyrics that I read along to in its Renaissance-styled font.

Over the course of several weeks, I had gone back and picked up the band’s first two studio albums—Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow and Rising—although their live album would have to wait. Neither The Wherehouse, nor the second-choice stores Licorice Pizza and Tower Records, had it in stock. No Amazon.com in those days, kids.

So while Zeppelin was more of my brother’s hard rock band in those days, I was determined to find my own. Rainbow became mine for a very short period of time. Because almost as fast as I had gotten caught up with all they had to offer, Dio quit the band! This would become par for the course over the years as I would come to learn.

Then in June of 1979, barely a year after first discovering his golden hard rock voice, Dio had joined the ranks of Black Sabbath replacing their iconic frontman Ozzy Osbourne; 30 years before Ozzy became better known as a bumbling reality tv star to an entirely new generation. Other than loving the brilliant “Paranoid,” Sabbath was never in my wheelhouse and by the late ‘70s the band’s platinum-selling days were nearly a decade behind them.

But with Dio in the fold I waited with eager anticipation for their first album, which arrived as Heaven and Hell in 1980. One of the best albums of Sabbath’s lengthy career, Dio had single-handedly rejuvenated the group and brought them back from the dead with this platinum-selling classic.

Still, his stint with Sabbath was even shorter than his tenure in Rainbow and by 1983 it was time to embark on his own solo career which was even more commercially successful than his previous work.

“I don’t sing about politics much because it’s a mess and there are no absolutes within it. It’s like religion, you have to take them both on faith. I like to say that in terms of politics, we have a lot of third world attitudes in a first rate nation.”

Ronnie James Dio

Fast-forward a decade to 1993 and I found myself sitting down with the metal icon. The first thing that strikes you when you meet Dio is that one of hard rock’s most powerful and earth-shaking voices comes from a man who stands only 5’4”. Perhaps it explains why his first band was called Elf, but more on that later.

We talked about songwriting, politics, his days with Rainbow and Sabbath, as well as the real story behind the “horns” symbol that he made famous.

RJD flashing his famous “horns” symbol, which has nothing to do with Satan like so many fans and critics have always thought.
(Photo: Chiaki Nozu/Getty Images)

With this weekend marking the 44th Anniversary of the release of Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow, which introduced lyricist/vocalist Ronnie James Dio to the masses for the first time, I once again dusted off one of my old interviews. I was immediately reminded of the brief time I spent with this candid, charismatic and personable character from America’s East Coast. It was a joy to spend time with the man who gave voice to metal fans throughout the ’70s, ’80s, ’90s and 2000s. Unfortunately, heavy metal lost this pioneer in 2010 after a horrible and brief battle with stomach cancer. RIP RJD…

The Early Years

Born in New Hampshire on July 10, 1942, Ronald James Padavona grew up in Cortland, New York. Known as the Crown City, in retrospect, Cortland seems like the perfect birthplace for the future songwriter who would go on to paint magnificent lyrical pictures of shadowy and mystical netherworlds filled with crowns, witches, swords, spirits, fire and rainbows. His words would wind their way first through Rainbow (four albums between 1975-78), then Black Sabbath (three albums from 1980-82 and another in 1992) and of course his own platinum-selling band Dio (11 albums from 1983-2004).

Starting out in doo-wop groups, the rock & roll teen played his way through a series of local bands until forming The Electric Elves in 1967. Eventually this band transformed into Elf and they were signed to Deep Purple’s record label in the early ’70s.

“Dixie Lee Junction” from Elf’s 1972 self-titled debut, produced by Deep Purple’s Roger Glover and Ian Paice.

Purple’s rhythm section of Roger Glover and Ian Paice co-produced Elf’s self-titled debut album in 1972, and Glover produced the band’s final two albums in ’74 and ’75. While Elf never found any commercial success, they did serve as the opening act for Deep Purple and when guitarist Ritchie Blackmore quit that group, he hired Dio and Elf for his new band, Rainbow.

Rainbow

Rainbow’s heavy metal anthem that first brought Ronnie James Dio international acclaim.

Dio’s tenure in Rainbow brought him worldwide recognition as one of hard rock’s most dominating vocalists. The band’s first album, which included the classic metal track “The Man on the Silver Mountain,” introduced Dio to the hard rock world. But before going out on tour in support of their debut, the temperamental Blackmore fired everyone in the band but Dio and a new Rainbow was formed, and it wouldn’t be the last.

During his time with Rainbow, Dio was equally well known for his lyrical approach, which harkened back to his childhood. “I was always a dreamer type of kid,” he told me. “I immersed myself into fantasy situations by reading science fiction and things that would let my imagination run somewhere.

Ritchie Blackmore and Ronnie James Dio at the time of Rainbow’s debut album.

“I like to create things that don’t necessarily have conclusions, but are rather float-away, dreamy kind of things,” he explained. “I think there’s a tremendous kinship between science fiction and the mythological era, and I applied all of that to my lyrics.

“All the songs I wrote during the Rainbow period had a much more Renaissance kind of attitude. They were not so much mythological, as they were songs about situations, which could have been translated into today’s time, if I hadn’t used flowery words.

“Because Rainbow was a much more flowery band than Black Sabbath ever was, joining Sabbath actually took away that flowery imagery from my lyrics. It sounds strange but when I joined Sabbath, I felt free to pursue the things that I wanted to do all along, which were the dark, mysterious and heavy themes.”

End of the Rainbow

Following 1978’s powerhouse album Long Live Rock ‘n’ Roll however, Dio and Blackmore fell prey to the rock & roll cliché of musical differences. But Dio seemed to hold no grudges towards his former band mate, saying: “Despite what the press says, I don’t carry around any ill feelings towards Ritchie. I mean, he gave me my first huge break with Rainbow and that led me to Black Sabbath and then my own band.

“We just disagreed with the direction of the band at the end. He wanted to go in a more pop direction and become a pop star, which I had no interest in. I learned from him what to do and what not to do, which are lessons you can’t buy.”

Black Sabbath

Within months of leaving Rainbow, the now unemployed vocalist met Black Sabbath’s guitarist Tony Iommi who had just lost his own lead singer Ozzy Osbourne, who left for a solo career. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what happened next.

In 1980, the newly revamped Sabbath, with Dio front and center, released the classic metal album Heaven and Hell. “Tony liked what I had done with Rainbow, so that was injected into Sabbath, which made the melodies go off to stranger places than they did with Ozzy. I think I brought a different dimension to Black Sabbath.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18OT8gUDwFc

Ironically, Dio downplayed the poetic aspect of his lyrics, explaining that he has always worked with the musical foundation of a song before penning his words. “I’m always inspired by the music. I don’t consider myself to be a poet. If I was, then I could be like Bernie Taupin [Elton John’s longtime lyricist] and write lyrics and have someone put music to them, but I’m not.

“I’ll work with a band on a musical structure, then I’ll go away and get inside the music, which will give me an indication of a lyrical direction. Generally, I have a list of song titles that I’ve come up with before the musical aspect has been done, and then I’ll use those as a starting point.”

The “Horns” Debate

Ronnie flashing his trademark “horns” with Black Sabbath in 1980.

Throughout his brief time as the frontman of Black Sabbath, Dio was known around the world for his finger-flashing symbol of what became known as the “devil horns.” That this occurred at a time when the heavy metal genre itself was rife with accusations of satanic worship by its critics only made Dio a major target of the bible-thumping crowd. The funny thing about all the devil-horn hype is that it really had nothing to do with Satan in the first place.

When it came to the topic of the “horns,” Dio laughed at the suggestion that he invented the now-famous “rock on” symbol: “No one can claim that they were the first one to do that, and I certainly don’t. That would be ridiculous. I think people may think that because I became known for it when I started using it during my time with Sabbath.”

As for the origin of it all, you can actually blame his Italian grandmother. “It’s an old superstitious symbol I got from her,” he said. “It’s to protect you from the Evil Eye, it goes back centuries. The whole satanic thing was a joke. Like I’m a devil worshipper,” he said disgustedly. “[The symbol] just seemed to work well with what I was doing during Sabbath and it has grown to become this all-encompassing symbol of metal or rock & roll.”

From Sabbath to Dio

Like his short-lived time with Rainbow, Dio’s time with Black Sabbath encompassed only two studio albums and a live release, which signaled the end of his first tenure with the band. An internal war developed between the two Brits [Iommi and bassist Geezer Butler] and the two Americans [Dio and drummer Vinny Appice] during the mixing of the 1982 concert collection, Live Evil, and Dio and Appice were out.

This time around the singer put together his own band and Dio was born. The band’s namesake brought along his Sabbath drummer, his former Rainbow bassist Jimmy Bain, and guitarist Vivian Campbell, and huge success was immediate.

Dio’s first two albums Holy Diver in 1983 and The Last in Line in 1984 went platinum and the vocalist turned band leader had exceeded the success of his previous successful groups.

“I never ever disbelieved in myself, but I had only worked in bands,” Dio said about the initial transition to forming his own group for the first time in his lengthy career. “So once I got out of that security blanket, I began to feel more confident with myself. I knew that with the people I put around me, especially Vinny, I just knew it was going to work.”

And work it did. Dio released three more albums before he was asked to rejoin Black Sabbath again in the early ’90s.

Black Sabbath: Take Two

The result of this Dio/Appice/Iommi/Butler reunion was 1992’s Dehumanizer, which echoed the magic of their albums a decade earlier. But things came to a grinding halt during the tour that followed. It all came to a head when Iommi and Butler agreed to have Black Sabbath be the opening act for former Sabbath vocalist Ozzy Osbourne for two dates in Southern California.

Dio refused to put Sabbath beneath their former singer’s solo career and his Sabbath tenure ended right then. Former Judas Priest vocalist Rob Halford was asked to take Dio’s place at those concerts, but he wouldn’t do it without RJD’s explicit approval. Dio gave the go-ahead and another Sabbath/Dio era was over.

In discussing it with me less than a year later, Dio said: “Those guys just were hoping to hook up with Ozzy for another Sabbath reunion with him. Here’s the thing: when I agreed to come back to Sabbath, I was back in this Sabbath thing for the long haul. I wanted do a couple more albums and tour everywhere. But they wanted to get back with Ozzy. They didn’t care about my opinion or anything, so that was it.”

The Final Sabbath

But it wasn’t really it-it. The singer went back and restarted his own band Dio in 1993 and released another eight albums over the next 14 years, but then in 2007 it was announced that once again the Sabbath quartet of Dio, Iommi, Butler and Appice would get together again. But this time it would be under the band name of Heaven & Hell since Iommi was also still playing in the reformed Black Sabbath with Osbourne. Confused yet?

Heaven & Hell released their one and only album, The Devil You Know, in 2009 and it immediately became a Top Ten hit on the Billboard Charts. Sadly, it would also prove to be Ronnie James Dio’s final appearance in a recording studio. The massively influential metal legend was diagnosed with stomach cancer that same year.

Ronnie James Dio performed for the last time on a stage August 29, 2009, before succumbing to cancer on May 16, 2010. Ronnie James Dio was 67.

Ronnie James Dio in his last public appearance one month before his death from cancer.

Last Words

Throughout his career, RJD took part in many charitable causes, including organizing the heavy metal genre’s answer to the Ethiopian famine relief projects Band Aid and USA for Africa in the mid-‘80s. In 1986, Dio’s Hear ‘n Aid project featured the metal ensemble song, “Stars,” which he wrote with his band mates Vivian Campbell and Jimmy Bain. An all-star compilation metal album, Hear ‘n Aid, followed later that same year.

Behind the scenes of the recording of Ronnie’s charitable endeavor he called Hear ‘n Aid.

Following Ronnie’s death, his widow and longtime manager, Wendy Dio, started the Ronnie James Dio Stand Up and Shout Cancer Fund, which has raised more than $2 million to date. The organization supports research and education that furthers early detection, prevention and treatment of prostate, colon and stomach cancers. You can donate to the fund here: http://www.diocancerfund.org

Another side of Ronnie James Dio.