The Revolutionary Piano of Nicky Hopkins (WWNHD: Part 4)

There are people who read music and don’t make things up and people who make things up and don’t read music, so when you put them together it’s a powerful thing. Nicky could play whatever you put in front of him. It’s a rarity to have somebody who could do that as perfectly as all the other session players, but have the endless inventiveness, flexibility, and above all feel.”
–Mike Vickers, arranger, ex-Manfred Mann, And On Piano…Nicky Hopkins: The Extraordinary Life of Rock’s Greatest Session Man, p. 54

We left off at the tail end of 1965, Nicky Hopkins’ first sustained year of full-time session work. He started the year strong, upstaging both Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck at an after hours recording session that Page produced. The results of those jams wouldn’t be released for another couple years — and under a measure of protest — but Hopkins is the best thing about it. “LA Breakdown” is a boogie woogie clinic, so if Page and Beck had any doubts about Nicky’s health they were quickly disabused of that notion.

Nicky soon became the pianist of choice for producers like George Martin, Simon Napier-Bell, and Andrew Loog Oldham (those January sessions were done under the auspices of Oldman’s Immediate label). But, it was Hopkins’ relationship with Shel Talmy that earned him sessions with The Who and Kinks, and it was those recordings that put him on the map. He wouldn’t play with The Who again until Who’s Next, 5 1/2 years later, but The Kinks were steadfast, and would remain so until the release of Village Green Preservation Society in 1968. By the end of 1966, Nicky even recorded with the Stones, with whom he’d maintain a long, fruitful partnership, but who he last saw in 1962-63 opening for Cyril Davies and The R&B All-Stars.

 

Hopkins’ classic rock contributions belie the fact that most of his session work was for inconsequential pop fluff. He was part of a machine, closer to a Ford factory than Sun Studios. John Paul Jones, like Page a full-time sessioneer prior to Led Zeppelin, stated succinctly, “If you freelance, you have to accept that you will end up doing a huge variety of stuff, some of which you don’t really care for. You’re committed because you won’t get work if you don’t take things on. So, it definitely becomes a compromise. You trade being in a name band and having huge success for being busy and getting a fee.” (And On Piano, p. 69).

Herbie Flowers, session bassist to the stars, filled in the portrait further. “Half the time we were booked to do things that were written out note for note and you had to play exactly what was in front of you. It was all done in one go — the strings on one side of the studio, with screens up, the rhythm section on the other side, playing quietly, with the drummer in what was like a homemade dug-out air raid shelter, so that you couldn’t hear too much spill. Guitar players had their amplifiers in little chicken huts. It was like Hampton Court Maze — loads of people in the studio. But, you can only see the tops of their heads bobbing up and down.” (And On Piano, p. 55).

Assembly line mechanics notwithstanding, every now and then the genius of Nicky Hopkins escaped the pop drudgery. What I wanna do here is circle back and cover a few 1965 sessions I overlooked to instead focus on The Who and Kinks. We’ll then catch up to 1966 and cover that year in its entirety. You’ll get your Kinks AND Stones, plus you’ll get some hidden gems that feature Nicky’s playing (which you may or may not have realized). There are a lot of ways one can view the state of rock music circa 1965-66, but filtering it through the lens of Nicky Hopkins’ best work is particularly rewarding.

1965

Ritchie Blackmore – Getaway (A-side)
Single released March 1965

Ritchie Blackmore – Little Brown Jug (B-side)
Single released March 1965

Ritchie Blackmore is a perfect place to begin today’s survey. In April 1962, when Nicky and guitarist Bernie Watson left The Savages to join Cliff Bennett & The Rebel Rousers in Hamburg, Germany, Dave Sutch (aka Screaming Lord Sutch) asked Blackmore to take Watson’s place in The Savages, which he accepted. Ritchie stayed in The Savages for about 7 months, left to join The Outlaws (another band produced by Joe Meek and repped below), and then by the end of 1965 was back in The Savages.

Like Hopkins and Watson, Blackmore cut his teeth in Hamburg and had fond recollections of it, though not necessarily his time in The Savages. “The starving days were some of the best times, but sometimes I was playing with musicians that I hated. Some of them were complete snobs who thought that if you played rock ‘n’ roll you were too loud. Especially playing with Screaming Lord Such & The Savages, half the band were rock ‘n’ roll and half the band were jazz snobs. They used to drive me crazy. The happiest times were the days at the Star Club in Hamburg, 1965. They were some of my favourite experiences.” (Metal Hammer, January 1987).

“Getaway” and “Little Brown Jug” aren’t great songs, per se, but as instrumentals based around guitar riffs, they get the job done. I don’t know if Blackmore is playing with another guitarist (Jimmy Page?) or his guitar is double tracked, but fuzztone riffs dominate both sides of the single — which is not necessarily a bad thing. Hopkins is lower in the mix, but definitely audible. He has an econo 8-bar solo on “Getaway” (1:20-1:41) and a more florid 4-bar solo on “Jug” (1:32-1:43). It’s worth mentioning that this single came out on Oriole Records, a British label who had a #2 UK hit in 1957 with Russ Hamilton’s “We Will Make Love.” The B-side of that single somehow went to #7 on the American pop charts. The name of that song? “Rainbow.”

Outlaws – Only For You
B-side of “Don’t Cry”
Recorded September 1965
Single released February 1966

Nicky Hopkins – piano
Ritchie Blackmore – lead guitar
Chas Hodges – vocals, bass
Mick Underwood – drums

OK tune. Splits the diff between pop and rock. Hopkins is low in the mix, but he effectively pulls against the beat, and launches into a brief solo from 1:02-1:16. By the time this single was released in February 1966 on Smash Records (US only), The Outlaws were no more. Blackmore rejoined The Savages, Hodges joined Cliff Bennett & The Rebel Rousers, and Underwood joined Episode Six with Ian Gillan & Roger Glover, both of whom would join Blackmore in Deep Purple 2.0 (June 1969).

Hopkins biographer Julian Dawson related an amusing story from Blackmore that turns into an amusing Ian McLagan anecdote.

Ritchie Blackmore recalled the general panic that would often break out if a producer wanted to change the key of a song. It would be down to Nicky to hastily write out new chord charts for self-taught talents, such as Blackmore and Page. Other keyboard players, such as The Small Faces‘ Ian McLagan, were simply envious. “Years later I mentioned to Nicky that I had an idea for a song in the middle of the night and wrote down what I thought was the melody. He was amazed that I couldn’t read or write music, but it never occurred to me to learn, so that you could write down an idea that you or anybody could play the next day!”
–Julian Dawson, And On Piano, p. 55

Davy Jones & The Lower Third – Baby Loves That Way
Single released August 1965

You may be more familiar with Mr. Jones in his alien empath form, David Bowie. This was the very last release for Jones & The Lower Third. From here on out, it’d be Bowie or bust. “Baby Loves That Way” is pretty good, but like the man himself, not quite there. If anything, this sounds like the idea that would eventually become “Jean Genie.” Nicky is so deep in the mix, I probably shouldn’t have included this track. I first hear his stabbing chords at 1:42, underneath the guitar solo, but his proper entry is at 2:48, 9 seconds before the end of the song, and 4 seconds before the song’s final chord. All I could think of was Derek Smalls in Spinal Tap during “Rock ‘n’ Roll Creation,” fighting to get out of his stagepod, only to emerge just as the song ends.

The Truth – She’s A Roller
B-side of “Who’s Wrong”
Single released November 1965

A British vocal duo whose follow-up to this one was a minor hit, a cover of John Lennon‘s “Girl,” which had just come out on Rubber Soul. This is another just ok song, but Nicky rips off a nice solo from 1:12-1:24.

Merseybeats – I Stand Accused
Single released December 1965

https://youtu.be/Fb7iH5ZdLlA

If you’re an American of a certain age, you know this because Elvis Costello covered it on Get Happy!! (1981). He was paying homage to this Merseybeats version of the song, but it was originally cut (for Pye Records) as a smooth, northen soul ballad by singer Tony Colton and his Big Boss Band. In fact, Colton’s song was a rewrite of Jerry Butler‘s “I Stand Accused,” a brilliant slow burn released as the B-side to “I Don’t Want To Hear Any More,” in May 1964.

So, all that lineage was in the air when producer (and Who manager) Kit Lambert was preparing for his session with The Merseybeats. According to Richie Unterberger on All Music Guide, “The original intention was for Lambert to find an American song he knew called ‘I Stand Accused.’ (Most likely the one by that title recorded by Jerry Butler.) The publisher gave him a different demo, but The Merseybeats liked it and decided to record that one.” Good move. I like this song way more than Unterberger. I think it’s great fun and hints at the Caribbean influence beginning to sink its teeth into British youth culture.

Nicky’s rock ‘n’ roll harpischord has to be singled out. I’m not a fan of harpsichord as a rule. It’s an instrument that doesn’t breathe, doesn’t have the kind of dynamic tonality a piano’s foot pedals provide. Sorry Bach fans. Harpischord can’t help but sound antiquated. And yet, given the burden of this instrument’s backstory, Hopkins seamlessly incorporates it as a rock ‘n’ roll instrument. I suppose Lambert deserves credit for, in this case, slightly burying it in the mix, so it sounds a bit like a tack piano. Whatever the case, harpsichordian shenanigans such as these must be rewarded.

Pretty Things – Midnight To Six Man (A-side)
Single released December 1965

Pretty Things – Can’t Stand The Pain (B-side)
Single released December 1965

Some people don’t know that Dick Taylor was in the first iteration of the Rolling Stones. In fact, he would’ve been playing bass, not Bill Wyman, at those first few Marquee Club dates opening for Cyril Davies, Nicky Hopkins, and the rest of The R&B All-Stars. Some time after quitting the Stones, Taylor started the Pretty Things, but obviously, circumstances had changed by late ’65. The Stones were global, the Pretty Things were by and large a British phenomenon, in part because they never toured America. They never really broke out of their “what could’ve been” straitjacket. To be fair, the “what could’ve been” was easy to figure out. Aside from not touring the US, the band suffered from the same thing that afflicted every second- and third-tier band at the time. They didn’t have an elite songwriter like Ray Davies or Pete Townshend or an elite songwriting partnership like Lennon/McCartney or Jagger/Richards. They succeeded or failed based upon their live show, the records were just a bonus. Taylor basically owned up to this in a 1999 interview.

How did your studio and stage sound differ?

I think that the live sound was obviously, it was louder and less controlled than even the singles. The people who saw us from Fontana (Records, who released the “Midnight” single) did realize that where our merit lay wasn’t in musicianship exactly. It was far more in the fact that we were rough and ready and raw, but had a lot of energy and what have you. I think that’s why the first (album), particularly the first album, and Get The Picture as well, work very well. Because I think they wanted to bring that out. What happened was Jack Baverstock produced the first couple of songs, and I think he found us a bit too animalistic maybe. And then he employed Bobby Graham, who was a drummer. I think he certainly realized that the best way to go about recording us was to get as much of the immediacy as he could. He was our producer for some time, until Steve Rowland stepped in, who was producer for some of the later stuff on Fontana. And I must say, I don’t quite think Steve ever got to grips with who we were. I think Bobby Graham was very much clued into our essential merits, really.
—Dick Taylor to Richie Unterberger, 1999

Produced by Glyn Johns, this single is probably as good as the Pretty Things ever got. Taylor says as much in that Unterberger interview. Taylor’s nasty guitar tone on “Midnight” is perfectly complemented by Nicky’s percussive, high end hammering. “Can’t Stand The Pain” has to be one of the earliest ventures into psychedelia, building and releasing, as opposed to verse-chorus-verse-chorusing. Very much proto-Stooges. For the first half of the song, the only thing you really hear from Nicky is a simple three-note figure that mirrors the opening riff. I hear him between :57-1:02, but very low in the mix. At 1:31, Skip Alan hits a drum fill, Phil May screams, “Oh no!” and a few beats later, Nicky comes in hot and pushes the song to the release portion of the festivities. It slows up for a few bars before going into final release at 2:07, setting the navigation controls for “T.V. Eye.”

Untamed – It’s Not True
Single released December 1965

Untamed – Gimme Gimme Some Shade
Single released December 1965

Dawson notes that, “Shel Talmy’s run of chart successes enabled him to start his own Planet label at the end of 1965. Though it lasted just a year and produced only one bona fide classic, if there was a piano on one of his 22 releases, it was almost always Nicky Hopkins playing it.” (And On Piano, pp. 63-64) To wit, Nicky plays astounding upright piano on both sides. Ironically, the A-side is the same Pete Townshend song upon which Hopkins laid down the original piano part, so in a sense he’s covering himself. Not sure the piano’s completely in tune, but it all works together in ramshackle fashion. I think I like “Gimme Gimme Some Shade” a little more than “It’s Not True.” Cool walking bassline, good drumming, and of course, Nicky ties it all together in a bow. Between these guys and The Creation (who we’ll get to shortly), Talmy certainly had the market cornered on bands who were The Who or sounded like The Who.

1966

Let’s turn the page from 1965 to 1966, the year that Shel Talmy first tried breaking Nicky Hopkins as a solo artist. Unfortunately, it was never entirely clear that Hopkins himself WANTED to be a solo artist. Given the evidence, it seems likely that “going solo” was Shel’s idea more than Nicky’s, but the pianist went along with it because that’s what he always did. Talmy acknowledged that “Nicky was not great at promoting himself. I kept trying to encourage him into being more upfront and I think it was almost too much for him.” (And On Piano, p. 186). If the tracks on his debut solo album, The Revolutionary Piano Of Nicky Hopkins, are any indication, Talmy tried disguising his protege’s limited ego and lack of formal songwriting with layers of orchestration and all the studio puffery one associated with assembly line musical production. I have no idea who this album was supposed to target. It’s not rock, it’s not really pop, I can’t imagine anyone listening to this record and gushing about it to their friends. As a session man with Nicky who also wasn’t a traditional songwriter, John Paul Jones was uniquely qualified to state the obvious. “Even if you’re an incredibly skilled professional, it doesn’t mean you can actually write one decent song.” (And On Piano, p. 69).

Nicky Hopkins – Satisfaction
The Revolutionary Piano Of Nicky Hopkins
Recorded early 1966
Released May/June 1966

This version is a weird, neutered version of “Satisfaction,” but I still love Nicky’s piano playing on it. Imagine if someone like a Quincy Jones were to arrange this song for a jazz combo. I think it would work in the same way Q’s cover of “Hard Day’s Night” worked in 1964. If you don’t have Nicky Hopkins swinging in the pocket, you’re not using him correctly. For all of Talmy’s sure pop instincts, his inability to grasp this simple swing concept was a terrible miss on his part.

Nicky Hopkins – The Ilejistry Pig
The Revolutionary Piano Of Nicky Hopkins
Recorded early 1966
Released May/June 1966

This is the final track on Revolutionary and probably the best song of the bunch. Had they released this as a single with “Satisfaction” on the B-side, it probably would’ve been the best use of resources. That said, this should’ve been a stripped down boogie woogie with no strings, no brass, and no backup singers. Producers of the time — which is to say producers at every point in music history — too often have to let you know a producer is involved. Even good producers succumb to the idea that adding more stuff to a production improves it. Putting THEIR signature on it. On some level, it’s just stupid ego. If you have talented musicians and the songs are decent, keep the arrangements simple, and get out of the fucking way. Not everything needs to be “River Deep, Mountain High” or “Good Vibrations.” Sometimes, a song just needs to be “LA Breakdown.”

Soul Brothers – Gotta Get A Good Thing Goin’
Single released May 1966
Starts at 1:07

I don’t know much about The Soul Brothers beyond the fact that they were a British vocal duo who enjoyed limited chart success. That is, I do know that one of the singers is Tony Wilson, who years later had huge success with Hot Chocolate, co-writing “You Sexy Thing.” “Gotta Get A Good Thing Goin'” seems derivative of Sam & Dave, but if you were a vocal group in 1965-66, emulating Sam & Dave wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Nicky actually plays electric piano on this one, jumping into a badass double time solo at 1:08 — about when we join the action — and which he reprises again during the outro.

Jeff Beck – Beck’s Bolero
B-side of “Hi Ho Silver Lining”
Recorded May 16, 1966
Single released March 10, 1967
Released on Truth LP, July 1968

https://youtu.be/Vuj5toLeyY8

Jeff Beck – electric guitar
Jimmy Page – electric 12-string guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano
John Paul Jones – bass
Keith Moon – drums

On the ‘Beck’s Bolero’ thing I was working with that, the track was done, and then the producer just disappeared. He was never seen again. He simply didn’t come back. (Simon) Napier-Bell, he just sort of left me and Jeff to it. Jeff was playing and I was in the box (recording booth). And even though he says he wrote it, I wrote it. I’m playing the electric 12-string on it. Beck’s doing the slide bits, and I’m basically playing around the chords. The idea was built around (classical composer) Maurice Ravel’s ‘Bolero.’ It’s got a lot of drama to it; it came off right. It was a good lineup too, with Keith Moon, and everything.”
–Jimmy Page to Steven Rosen, Guitar Player, July 1977

(Jimmy Page) had heard me play in the studio after hours. In those days there was a lot of naughty recording sessions going on late at night. We would do this crap single for someone in about 10 minutes ’cause they didn’t have enough money to pay for the studio, then we’d leave the gear set up and have some fun! I fell in love with Jim’s playing ’cause we spoke the same language. We probably still do, but I dunno. I think we’re both still steeped in the old days. We were out to get the most out of the studio, bending the rules like using slap echo, doing all the things you weren’t allowed to do on a session.

It was decided that it would be a good idea for me to record some of my own stuff like ‘The Nazz Are Blue’ with a view towards making a solo album. This was partly to stop me moaning about the Yardbirds. I went over to Jim’s house and he had this 12-string Fender and he loved the idea of using a bolero-type rhythm for a rock record. He was playing the bolero rhythm and I played the melody on top of it, but then I said, ‘Jim, you’ve got to break away from the bolero beat. You can’t go on like that forever!’ So, we stopped it dead in the middle of the song, like the Yardbirds would do on ‘For Your Love.’ Then we stuck that riff into the middle.

Jimmy Page (L) & Jeff Beck in The Yardbirds, 1966

 

I was using a Les Paul for the lead guitar and for the backwards slide guitar through a Vox AC30. It was the only amp I had and it was covered with beer! Actually, I think it was the beer that gave it it’s sound! You can hear Moon screaming in the middle of the record over the drum break. If you listen after the drum break you can only hear the cymbal afterwards ’cause he knocked the mic over! Wonderful!’
–Jeff Beck to Douglas J. Noble, The Guitar Magazine, June 1993

Rosen: Were you on the track, Beck’s Bolero?

Hopkins: Yeah. That was done in ’66 and it was the B-side, as far as I remember, of a song called “Hi Ho Silver Lining,” which is kind of a commercial attempt. ‘Beck’s Bolero’ was great because Page was on it and Beck and myself and Keith Moon. Jesus, Keith played just incredible. I remember he went nuts at the end and smashed his drumstick into the mic. Just smashed it! It was just funny, it was just funny the way he did it.

Rosen: Was John Paul Jones on there playing bass?

Hopkins: Yeah, I think … yes, he was. That’s right. In fact, I think you just jogged my memory. I think that was the first thing. That was how I became really involved with Beck! It was that session, which I had just completely forgotten about. Yeah, good one! The memory jogger strikes again!
–Nicky Hopkins to Steven Rosen, 1979 Interview

 

IF IT AIN’T BAROQUE, DON’T FIX IT

As we near the midway point of 1966, let us return to Kinkdom. Internally, this was an exceptionally fraught time in band history. Bassist Pete Quaife got into a serious car accident in June, quit the band in September, and unquit the band in November. Dave Davies had a paternity suit dismissed in May and suffered tonsillitis in June. And Ray Davies famously suffered a nervous breakdown in early March because of incessant touring, constant demand for product, no money, and no end in sight. Nine days after getting diagnosed with nervous exhaustion, Ray literally ran 6 miles to his publicist’s London office to kick his ass. If the story in X-Ray is true, said publicist, Brian Somerville, “Ducked to the floor, squeaked like a mouse, and pretended to faint.” Some variation of this story is oft told, but it tends to overlook a larger truth. Ray’s nervous breakdown was a de facto labor strike … and it worked. After fulfilling tour dates through September, The Kinks had a short tour in January 1967 (12 shows in a week), light touring that June and August, but their next serious road dates weren’t until April 1968. By and large, shows were confined to weekends, with occasional radio and TV performances mixed in. The protest worked.

On July 13-14, 1966, Ray and his managers also met with the infamous Allen Klein to become band muscle (i.e. business manager). He’d very soon renegotiate the contract with Pye Records in Britain (on more favorable terms, natch) and in October signed a 5-year deal with Reprise Records in the US. Just as importantly, from this point forward, Ray Davies, not Shel Talmy, would produce The Kinks music. Talmy was nominally listed as co-producer on next year’s follow-up LP, Something Else, but he was a figurehead at best. Thus, by the end of 1966, many of the stressors that crippled Ray at the start of the year had been resolved to his satisfaction. If nothing else, the quality of songwriting bears this out.

In relistening to Face To Face — most of which was written and recorded between April and June when so many of these issues were still in flux — it feels like an album with a lot of good songs, but not many great songs. I’d put “Most Exclusive Residence For Sale” and “Sunny Afternoon” against anything, but I’d argue that both sides of the single recorded immediately after the album was done — “Dead End Street” b/w “Big Black Smoke” — are better than anything else on Face To Face, with the exception of those two songs. I don’t think it’s an accident that that single was recorded after the deals with Reprise, Pye, and Talmy were consummated and Ray was ensconced as unequivocal leader of the band. To wit, what was The Kinks next single after “Dead End Street?” That would be “Waterloo Sunset,” only the greatest single ever recorded. Yeah, I think Ray Davies knew what he was doing.

One way Ray’s need for artistic control manifested itself musically was in his very deliberate move away from R&B and a kind of proto-punk to a more diverse, sophisticated pop sound. He’d obviously been heading that way since “Tired Of Waiting For You.” Classical touches, though, were another matter entirely. Enter Nicky Hopkins. I’ve already discussed my aversion to harpsichord, so let me just say that Side 1 of Face To Face is hamstrung by one too many songs featuring the instrument. But, we should discuss two of them. One, because it’s pretty much mandatory, the other because I think it’s one of the few legitimately excellent uses of harpischord in rock.

Kinks – Rosie Won’t You Please Come Home
Recorded April-June 1966
Released on Face To Face, October 28, 1966 (UK), December 7, 1966 (US)

This weeper is inspired by Ray and Dave’s sister Rosie, who moved to Australia with husband Arthur and son Terry in either May 1964 (according to Ray) or November 1963 (according to Dave and Pete Quaife). Maybe the major-minor key shifts give a pocket for the harpischord to sit in, but it all works for me. The cello underneath, Dave’s electric guitar above that, harpischord in the mid-range, and Ray’s pining voice right on top … it’s a deceptively rich arrangement. Incidentally, you might know Rosie’s Arthur from 1969’s Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire). Yep, he’s THAT Arthur. I mean, maybe they’re no Pattie Boyd, but in terms of musical inspiration Rosie and Arthur did pretty good for themselves.

OK Matt Benz. Let’s Do “Session Man.”

Kinks – Session Man
Recorded April-June 1966
Released on Face To Face, October 28, 1966 (UK), December 7, 1966 (US)

For years I’ve accepted as fact that “Session Man” was either written for or about Nicky Hopkins. I seem to remember Ray suggesting as much. So naturally, Dave saw things differently. “There were certain session men around that weren’t very nice people and if you listen to the words of ‘Session Man,’ they’re a bit cynical. Some of them used to look down their noses (at playing rock ‘n’ roll), but said nothing about taking the money. Nicky was not like that. He was a real lovable, easy guy.” (And On Piano, p. 79). He has a point. “He’s not paid to think, just play” and “No overtime nor favors done” are not exactly complements. As a Nicky Hopkins fan, I HOPE he isn’t the subject of Ray’s withering sarcasm.

When asked in 1973, Nicky himself shot down the idea that he was the titular session man. “The Kinks were using various straight musicians at the time, like clarinet, sax, trombone, and string players, and they really were a hard lot to get on with. If the parts weren’t written out for them, they’d grumble, they wouldn’t go into overtime without getting paid, and they’d talk about things like gardening between takes!” (And On Piano, p. 79). Finally, Ray himself poo-pooed the idea in an email to Dawson. “I didn’t actually write ‘Session Man’ for Nicky, or with him in mind, and he made no comment when he played on the track, but responded instantly when I asked him to put something classical sounding on the front. Come to think of it, he did play the rest of the track a bit aggressively, so the lyric content may have had some effect on him.” (And On Piano, p. 79).

So there ya go. The song is definitely certainly 100%ish probably not about Nicky. In fact, he may have secretly held a grudge against the same old guard session dudes that inspired Ray. In Dawson’s book, three different men who recorded with Nicky in the mid-’60s specifically cite his youth as being critical to their fraternal bond.

 

“Being of the same generation, we got on well together. Everybody else was so much older. Only me, Nicky, and Jimmy Page were of that age. Jim Sullivan was the next one up, but in the really early days there only the three of us. It was nice to be in a young rhythm section and infinitely better than working.”
–John Paul Jones, And On Piano, p. 55

“Nicky was a young recruit in a barrack room of hardened musicians and tried to remain anonymous. At the end of the take, he’d cross his legs, hunch his shoulders — what there were of them — and give you a quiet, but slightly distraught, ‘Is that all right, Andrew?'”
–Andrew Loog Oldham, And On Piano, p. 55

“I remember Nicky Hopkins and John Paul Jones playing next to each other and it was nice to have other people my own age in the studio.”
–Cat Stevens, And On Piano, p. 56

Kinks – You’re Lookin’ Fine
Recorded December 29-30, 1965 (possibly re-recorded later)
Released on Face To Face, October 28, 1966 (UK), December 7, 1966 (US)

Sung by Dave, but written by Ray, “You’re Lookin’ Fine” was actually recorded the previous December at the same sessions that produced “Sittin’ On My Sofa.” It’s another of the album’s pretty good, but probably not great songs. I like the guitar interplay, but the best part of the track is Nicky, who comes in at :52. Actually, I’m not sure if this was Talmy’s or Ray’s doing, but they use Hopkins in a specific way here and throughout Face To Face. Instead of opening the track with piano, they hold it back and bring it in later. For example, on “You’re Lookin’ Fine” the piano enters at the start of the second verse. From an arrangement perspective, this is a smart and subtle way to give a track heft, slowly building on what came before. Hopkins has a good trilly solo from 1:40-2:03, initially playing underneath Dave’s stuttering lead guitar break, and then for the last couple bars carrying the solo by himself. Nicky’s twiddling right hand is actually the last thing we hear as the track fades out.

Kinks – House In The Country
Recorded April-June 1966
Released on Face To Face, October 28, 1966 (UK), December 7, 1966 (US)

If “You’re Lookin’ Fine” was the album’s slow burn rocker, “House In The Country” was straight up rock ‘n’ roll. Face To Face had a few — “Party Line” and “Holiday in Waikiki,” e.g. — but only “House” features Hopkins. So, here we are. As with “You’re Lookin’ Fine,” Nicky’s entrance is delayed, in this case until 1:10. At this point, he returns to the Johnnie Johnson-esque comping that he did so well. This makes sense since “House” is basically riffing off the Chuck Berry template. For all of the music hall touches and distinctive Englishness for which he’s known, Ray Davies never strayed THAT far away from the Book of Berry.

Kinks – Sunny Afternoon
Recorded May 13, 1966
Released on Face To Face, October 28, 1966 (UK), December 7, 1966 (US)

Saving the best for last. “Sunny Afternoon” is Face To Face‘s high water mark and one of Ray’s finest songwriting achievements of this era. What’s interesting — and the quotes below don’t address it, so I will — is that Nicky doesn’t just play piano. The instrument that sounds like a wheezing accordion is actually a melodica, a tiny keyboard that you blow into. (Here’s what that looks like.) Ray has discussed “Sunny Afternoon” on many occasions, including Dawson’s bio. Here’s a few quotes that puts the song — and Nicky’s piano contribution — in perspective.

At the time I wrote ‘Sunny Afternoon’ I couldn’t listen to anything. I was only playing the Greatest Hits of Frank Sinatra and Dylan‘s “Maggie’s Farm.” I just liked its whole presence. I was playing the Bringing It All Back Home LP along with my Frank Sinatra and Glenn Miller and Bach. It was a strange time. I thought they all helped one another, they went into the chromatic part that’s in the back of the song.
–Ray Davies to Jonathan Cott, Rolling Stone, November 26, 1970

I played the intro on a mini-upright piano and went chromatic, playing down the lower register. Then I tried it on the acoustic guitar. It must have been frustrating for Nicky Hopkins, who played piano on the record, because Shel Talmy made him watch me play it, and then copy my style.”
–Ray Davies in the Picture Book box set

I remember ‘Sunny Afternoon’ vividly because I was playing piano in a typical songwriter’s stabbing style and Shel Talmy said (to Nicky), ‘Copy what Ray does.’ The next morning we went in and did two or three takes and Nicky had it pat. Other musicians would’ve been insulted, but Nicky seemed to get inside my style and played exactly as I would have. He would play beneath himself to accommodate the style of others. No ego. Perhaps that was his secret?”
–Ray Davies, And On Piano, p. 79

Brian Jones – Theme from Mord und Totschlag (A Degree Of Murder)
Recorded Fall 1966
Film released April 1967 (soundtrack never issued)

Brian Jones – sitar, organ, acoustic guitar, recorder, Mellotron, dulcimer, harmonica
Jimmy Page – guitars
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Kenney Jones – drums
Glyn Johns – engineer

Nicky recorded with the Stones for the first time in November and December. However, in September he recorded with A Stone, Brian Jones. Jones was composing, arranging, and producing the soundtrack for A Degree Of Murder, an avant-garde German crime noir starring Jones’ girlfriend (at the time), Anita Pallenberg. Written like a suite, Nicky plays a nice circular riff in the second part of the movement (1:20-2:00). In terms of capturing what Nicky did best, Jones was remarkably intuitive. Though the soundtrack was never released, this theme directly anticipates Buffalo Springfield‘s rootsy kitchen sink arrangements a couple years down the road.

Beverley – Happy New Year
Single released September 30, 1966

Beverley Kutner – vocals
Jimmy Page – fuzztone guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano
John Paul Jones – bass
Andy White – drums

“They all got on so well — it was magic. The feel and the sound of those sessions was brilliant and they were so far ahead of their time. ‘Happy New Year’ was a Randy Newman demo from Schroeder Music and Nicky transformed the piano part for the record. He was like a mouse with a long, black coat and shy, just like Nick Drake.”
—Beverley Martyn, And On Piano, p. 67

I’d never heard of Beverley Martyn — or Beverley Kutner, her maiden name before she married British folksinger, John Martyn. Apparently, Paul Simon knew her because he introduced her brief set at the Monterey Pop Festival — headlined that day by Simon and Garfunkel. Fortunately for Beverley, she came along at a time when half of future Led Zeppelin and Nicky Hopkins were available to record her single, “Happy New Year.” As she notes, it is a Randy Newman track, but I love the slow piano coda reminds me of the Dave Davies song, “I Am Free,” released the previous year on The Kink Kontroversy. [Judge for yourself.]

Earlier I mentioned Shel Talmy’s Planet Records label and how it had “one bona fide classic.” That was The Creation’s Who-riffic anthem, “Makin’ Time,” a middling hit upon its release in the summer of 1966, and arguably best known now for its prominent use in Wes Anderson‘s Rushmore (1998). Nicky actually plays on that single, but he’s so buried in the mix it may as well be me on piano. That is not true of the follow-up to “Makin’ Time,” released four months later.

Creation – Biff Bang Pow
B-side of “Painter Man”
Single released October 1966

Kenny Pickett – lead vocals
Eddie Phillips – guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Bob Garner – bass
Jack Jones – drums

The Creation still riffin’ on The Who. Not that this is a bad thing at all, but I’m imagining producer Shel Talmy in a lab with like 5 templates for what a song can be and anything outside of that range may as well be Miles Davis. “Makin’ Time” is like “Anyway Anyhow Anywhere” with a smidge of “I Can’t Explain,” while “Biff Bang Pow” clearly wants to be “My Generation.” Hopkins is still buried a bit in the mix, but he’s a key part of the controlled chaos. While guitarist Eddie Phillips takes an understated solo, Nicky goes wild with his Floyd Cramerisms, especially between 1:26-1:32.

Rolling Stones – Cool, Calm & Collected
Recorded December 13, 1966
Released on Between The Buttons LP, January 20, 1967 (UK), February 11, 1967 (US)

Mick Jagger – lead vocals, harmonica
Keith Richards – electric guitar
Brian Jones – electric dulcimer, kazoo
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Bill Wyman – bass
Charlie Watts – drums
Glyn Johns – engineer

I know (the Stones) had been impressed with The Who’s records because I can remember running into Mick in a restaurant in Soho and he complimented me on my playing on ‘Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere.'”
–Nicky Hopkins, And On Piano, p. 89

Given the significance of Nicky Hopkins’ musical partnership with the Stones, it’s ironic that his first recording sessions with the band were … meh. Hopkins guests on “Cool, Calm & Collected” and “Something Happened To Me Yesterday,” two of the weaker tracks on Between The Buttons. Nicky’s playing is more interesting on “Cool,” so I opted for that track. He’s panned right, comping chords, and deliberately set against Jones’ electric dulcimer, which is panned left. This is obviously Jagger trying to keep up with The Kinks, but doing an awkward, ill-fitting job of it. Swaggering, menacing rock ‘n’ roll, no problem. Jagger and Keith Richards were born under that bad sign. Winking, music hall-influenced pop, with a skosh of rock ‘n’ roll? Yeah, not so much. I like the chaotic outro of “Cool,” but for the most part, this is poor man’s Ray Davies. Also, while the idea of electric dulcimer is certainly quirky and open-minded, giving the song a droning sitar feel, I’m not sure this particular electric dulcimer was in tune. It’s interesting, but ultimately a failure of an experiment.

NEXT TIME

Mr. Pleasant: What Would Nicky Hopkins Do? (Part 5)

PREVIOUSLY ON HILL STREET BLUES

But It Was Blues: What Would Nicky Hopkins Do? (Part 3)
Diamond Tiaras: What Would Nicky Hopkins Do? (Part 2)
WWNHD: What Would Nicky Hopkins Do? (Part 1)

YOUTUBE

FYI, I have a chronological Nicky Hopkins playlist on YouTube. It includes every song I’ve featured thus far and will eventually span his entire career. Check it out.