“From about ’67 to ’68 it was really machine-like. I didn’t even know whom I was working for half the time. Anthony Newley was at one session, Sammy Davis Jr. was at another, maybe those two were for a movie soundtrack or maybe they were singles. I don’t know. I don’t even know if they ever came out!”
–Nicky Hopkins, And On Piano…Nicky Hopkins: The Extraordinary Life of Rock’s Greatest Session Man, pp. 62-63
The most interesting thing about that quote is how it belies the version of 1967 I’m about to present. I have 51 years of hindsight, so I can cherry pick Kinks and Stones tracks to do most of the heavy lifting because time has vindicated those songs. But, when Hopkins suggests that the year was a blur of anonymity, you should believe him. The music business has always been more interested in the business than the music. As I’ve said many times, the music industry is to music as fast food is to food. It’s a product. A shitty song that sells is more valuable than a masterpiece that doesn’t and anything that sells gets copied over and over. It took hundreds of session hours of forgotten pop detritus by the likes of Biddu and Kippington Lodge — let alone Cat Stevens — for Nicky to get to a “Situation Vacant” or “She’s A Rainbow.” Experiencing 1967 in the moment, I’m not sure Nicky Hopkins would’ve seen his year as creatively fulfilling. But make no mistake, he contributes a handful of signature parts that have set the bar for piano in rock music — or pop, for that matter — and grouping them together puts the year into an amazing perspective.
THE KINKS
I’ve already mentioned them, so let’s jump into one of Nicky’s most rewarding musical partnerships, not just in 1967, but in his entire career. Though he was all over their album, Something Else By The Kinks, released in September, Hopkins’ first Kinks session of ’67 took place in February of that year and was for a single.
Kinks – Mr. Pleasant
Recorded February 1967
Released as A-side, April 21, 1967 (Netherlands) and May 24, 1967 (US)
Released as B-side to “Autumn Almanac,” October 13, 1967 (UK only)
Lip syncing on Beat-Club, Germany, broadcast May 17, 1967
https://youtu.be/b_mH9Mdlua0
Personnel on single:
Ray Davies – lead vocal, acoustic guitar
Dave Davies – electric guitar, backing vocal
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Pete Quaife – bass, backing vocal
Micky Avory – drums
John Beecham – trombone
Rasa Davies – backing vocal
“Mr. Pleasant” is a jaunty cuckold’s tale and while the piano player above looks a bit like Nicky, it’s actually the band’s manager, Grenville Collins. Instrumentally, I love how Mick Avory shifts his drum patterns to fit inside the pocket with Hopkins, Quaife, and the Davies guitars (one acoustic, one electric). The song, especially Nicky’s trilly music hall piano and John Beecham’s Salvation Army trombone, feels specifically English, which was quickly becoming the Ray Davies trademark. He’d solidify that status with the band’s next single, a little ditty called “Waterloo Sunset.” If it’s not the greatest song ever, it’s on the short list. Anyway, given “Mr. Pleasant’s” cultural markers, why was this single released to the American and Dutch markets six months before the UK, and then in Britain only as a B-side to “Autumn Almanac???” That makes no sense. FYI, this performance was lip synced for German TV because of the aforementioned Dutch single release. I don’t think The Kinks ever performed “Mr. Pleasant” on the BBC, certainly not in 1967 when they presumably would’ve wanted to promote it.
This isn’t the last we’ve heard of “Mr. Pleasant,” but let’s move on to the next single.
Kinks – Death Of A Clown
Recorded June 1967
Single released July 7, 1967 (UK), August 2, 1967 (US)
Track #2 on Something Else, September 15, 1967 (UK), January 1968 (US)
Dave Davies – lead vocal, electric guitar
Ray Davies – acoustic guitar, backing vocal, piano strings (?)
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Pete Quaife – bass, backing vocal
Mick Avory – drums
Rasa Davies – backing vocal
“It was all a metaphor for the way I felt. Everything in the sixties had been spontaneous and easy and fun. Now I started to see the cracks. I was buckling under the strain of all this bullshit. As a boy I used to hate going to the circus, so the song also related to that. The main thing was that clowns were frightening –- this guy pretending to be happy with a funny face, but with something weird going on behind the scenes. The music business is very much like a clown’s mask.”
—Dave Davies, Classic Rock: The Stories Behind The Songs, December 22, 2014
“Death Of A Clown” sounds like it was written precisely for when you’re staggering to bed drunk and feeling sorry for yourself. Nicky’s bouncing piano carries the melody and syncopates nicely with the rhythm section, jumping out most noticeably in that descending turnaround into the first and third measures of each bar (at “So won’t someone help me to break up this crown” and “The old fortune teller lies dead on the floor.”) That last line is actually followed by Nicky’s deliberately stumbling glissando immediately after “dead on the floor,” which is a delightfully clever touch. As for the stabbing piano intro that perfectly captures the song’s inebriated spirit, I’ve usually read that Nicky played this part by fingerpicking the strings inside the piano, but the Classic Rock article I link to above said it was Ray and that is a main reason why Ray is listed as co-writer. Sounds plausible.
It’s not entirely clear when “Death Of A Clown” went from new Kinks song to debut Dave Davies single, but that’s what happened. There was much bluster about a Dave solo album throughout the summer and on a press release dated June 26, 1967, a Ray solo album was also announced. Neither, of course, happened. Ray’s solo album eventually turned into Village Green Preservation Society and as for Dave, I talked last time about how Nicky Hopkins was a reluctant frontman. Dave’s brief flirtation with solo status in 1967 revealed a similar lack of ambition/fear of the spotlight. For both men, solo careers never took off because on a fundamental level they didn’t want them to take off.
For years after, Ray would introduce his younger brother on stage as Dave “Death Of A Clown” Davies, needling him perhaps for the solo career that ended before it started. Dave of course hated this and every time Ray said it, it only added to a seemingly inexhaustible list of resentments that would destroy their relationship over time. The reality was a little more complicated. For all of Ray’s inherent talents as a songwriter, he saw himself as a grinder, a professional whose songs were the result of discipline and attention to detail. This, to put it mildly, wasn’t Dave’s MO and Ray was envious of his brother’s perceived freedom. The duality of this conflict plays out to Ray’s narrative satisfaction in a song written concurrent with — if not slightly before — “Death Of A Clown.”
Kinks – Two Sisters
Recorded February 1967
Released on Something Else, September 15, 1967 (UK), January 1968 (US)
Ray Davies – lead vocal, acoustic guitar
Dave Davies – electric guitar, backing vocal
Nicky Hopkins – harpsichord
Pete Quaife – bass, backing vocal
Mick Avory – drums
Rasa Davies – backing vocal
“It was based partly on Dave and myself. I was Priscilla, who ‘looked into the washing machine and the drudgery of being wed,’ and Dave was cast as Sybilla, who ‘looked into her mirror’ and mixed with all ‘her smart young friends’ because she was free and single. The song was also drawn on images of Rasa the housewife (Ray’s wife) doing the laundry, changing the nappies, cooking the meals. Also on my own mother and sisters, who had been tied through marriage to children, which meant never having the opportunity to embark on careers of their own. The final chorus of the song had a lot to do with my feeling of being trapped by having a young daughter and the responsibilities of marriage. When in the bridge of the song, the housewife sister ‘threw away her dirty dishes just to be free again,’ it was my own reaction in a sense, but it also came from seeing Rasa pushing the pram down the street.
The last verse started with, “Priscilla saw her little children and then decided she was better off than the wayward lass that her sister had been.” That was me looking at my daughter Louisa crawling on the floor and being content just to see that. And as frustrated as I was about the legal turmoil surrounding me and the restrictions and confines brought about by marriage, I felt somehow redeemed by having written the song. At this time, more than any other, I was beginning to write about myself through my own subconscious. ‘Two Sisters’ was a reflection of the suburban husband.”
–Ray Davies, X-Ray: The Unauthorized Autobiography, P. 336-37
Where Face To Face had four harpsichord songs, “Two Sisters” is the only harpsichord track on Something Else. That feels that correct amount. Like “Rosie Won’t You Please Come Home” (which I featured last time), Hopkins employs the instrument to good effect. It hints at the melody more than carries it, but it’s clearly the lead instrument in the first verse. When Avory’s drums kick in at the second verse, they split the lead to some degree. By the time we get to the third verse, strings and electric guitar have joined the arrangement, and while the harpsichord is audible, it’s buried in the mix. It’s a minor song in The Kinks canon, but effectively uses its short two minutes, slowly building to a restrained crescendo. In the context of Something Else, it also serves as a pensive respite from the rock ‘n’ roll, especially paired with “No Return.”
Kinks – Situation Vacant
Recorded February-July 1967
Released on Something Else, September 15, 1967
Ray Davies – lead vocal, acoustic guitar, organ (?)
Dave Davies – electric guitar, backing vocal
Nicky Hopkins – piano, organ (?)
Pete Quaife – bass
Mick Avory – drums
Unlike Face To Face, Nicky Hopkins doesn’t have a proper solo on Something Else. However, the first 7 seconds of “Situation Vacant” is as distinctive a musical break as there is on the album. Hopkins draws upon his classical roots and, in a sense, paints with the same brush that colored the Stones’ summer of love classic, “She’s A Rainbow,” recorded around the same time and which we’ll get to shortly. I’m not sure if Nicky or Ray plays organ. Most of the organ parts are simple stabbing chords, but I suspect it’s Hopkins because in the breakdown leading to the false ending and the breakdown in the actual fade out, that organ is a little more sophisticated than what I’d expect from Davies.
In addition to solos, you know what else Nicky Hopkins doesn’t get on Something Else? Credit. At least proper credit. He is all over this album and yet all he receives is this back cover run-on sentence:
Ourthankstomacirishdavenickykeith
I don’t know if you can properly say this came back to haunt Ray Davies and The Kinks because they were in the midst of a creative run that rivals any rock band ever. But, this lack of credit would end a rewarding partnership after the band’s next album, the aforementioned Village Green Preservation Society, and it didn’t have to be that way. I’ll cover that next post, though. In the meantime, Hopkins and The Kinks were not only studio co-conspirators, but in 1967 he sat in with them on a handful of radio programs (or programmes, if that’s your thing). Here’s one featuring Dave and Nicky on a Spider John Koerner song.
Dave Davies & Nicky Hopkins – Good Luck Charm
Playhouse Theatre, London
Recorded August 4, 1967
Recorded for BBC’s Saturday Club show, “Good Luck Charm” is a cover of Koerner’s song, “Good Luck Child” (inexplicably retitled by the Beeb). Koerner was a folkie at the University of Minnesota concurrent with Bob Dylan and this was the leadoff track to Koerner’s 1965 solo debut, Spider Blues. In a Jazz Monthly review, music critic Albert McCarthy wrote of the album, “This is, without any doubt, one of the worst records I have had to review for many a long day. Koerner is a passably competent guitarist, a poor harmonica player, and a quite dreadful singer.” But, other than that Mrs. Lincoln, what’d you think about the play?
Julian Dawson and Pete Quaife underscore Nicky’s versatility and value in Dawson’s Hopkins bio.
The growing importance of his role in The Kinks’ music was underlined by regular invitations from the band to accompany them on BBC live broadcasts, several of which performances survived to appear much later on a fascinating CD compilation. They provide a wonderful glimpse of the band’s live power, stripped of studio enhancement and recorded under extreme pressure.
Pete Quaife: “We went in, set up, and they’d say, ‘Right, this is number one. Go!’ and we did virtually every single in one take.”
–Julian Dawson, And On Piano…, p. 80
Kinks – David Watts
Maida Vale Studios, London
Recorded October 25, 1967
Broadcast on BBC Radio 1, Top Gear, October 29, 1967
Ray Davies – lead vocal, acoustic guitar
Dave Davies – electric guitar, backing vocal
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Pete Quaife – bass, backing vocal
Mick Avory – drums
As good as the Something Else version is, there’s something about this song live that is positively propulsive. I also think Nicky is better represented in this Maida Vale version. Anyone else hear “David Watts” and think for a moment that it’s a Jam song The Kinks are covering? Ummm yeah … me either.
Kinks – Susannah’s Still Alive
Maida Vale Studios, London
Recorded October 25, 1967
Broadcast on BBC Radio 1, Top Gear, October 29, 1967
Dave Davies – lead vocal, electric guitar
Ray Davies – acoustic guitar, harmonica, backing vocal
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Pete Quaife – bass
Mick Avory – drums
While a full LP was too much to ask, there’s no denying the strength of Dave Davies’ work in 1967-68. He wrote or co-wrote “Death Of A Clown,” “Love Me Till The Sun Shines,” and “Funny Face,” all of which appeared on Something Else. His second single was “Susannah’s Still Alive,” which peaked at #20 on the British charts, and went to #10 in the Netherlands. Finally, “Lincoln County” and “There Is No Life Without Love” were written and recorded in late 1967/early 1968 and paired on the third and final Dave single from this era, but only in the Scandinavian and British markets. These are six very good to great songs and they beg the question … why didn’t Dave Davies write more songs? Granted, the dynamic of The Kinks was so volatile, maybe there wasn’t enough room for two Davies songwriters in the band. Dave suggested as much in this 2017 interview.
“I think the thing with me and Ray was that Ray could be very one-track-minded on ideas. That’s how he functions, but he had this way of working where I felt I was there to support him. Which I have. There was a period where I felt like all my energy was being sucked down like a drain. That isn’t a good thing all the time. We can’t function in these family groups without some human give and take.”
–Dave Davies, Rolling Stone, April 3, 2017
With rumors of a Kinks reunion floating around of late — YES PLEASE! — maybe I should just be happy that Ray and Dave were able to collaborate on anything for as long as they did. Of course, the same could be said of The Kinks and Nicky Hopkins. 1967 was the last year where their collaboration remained unfettered by ego and personal conflict. In fact, if Hopkins was critical in fleshing out Ray Davies’ vision of the band — or, to be more precise, Ray Davies’ vision of the songs he was composing — that influence worked both ways. When cajoled by producer Shel Talmy to strike out on his own, Nicky settled on a cover of “Mr. Pleasant.”
Nicky Hopkins and The Whistling Piano – Mr. Pleasant
Recorded early 1967
Single released May 1967 (US, July 1967 (UK)
This is such a curious release. The A-side, “Mr. Pleasant,” lists Nicky’s instrument as THE Whistling Piano. Yet, when you flip it over to the B-side, “Nothing As Yet,” Hopkins is accompanied by HIS Whistling Piano. At least in the American market they spelled his name correctly. The British 45 is credited to Nicki Hopkins. Apparently, the label (Polydor) got his musician and stripper names confused. Finally, what made Talmy think an instrumental version of “Mr. Pleasant” might make a dent, when the version with the four members of The Kinks went nowhere in America and the Netherlands? Granted, I doubt any song would’ve launched Hopkins into the charts, but this one seems almost comically off-target.
1967 stands out for Nicky Hopkins because it was his last year as a pure studio player and it was his last year of sobriety. Given the amount of pointless, forgettable, union scale music he played on between 1965-68, it’s not really surprising that someone of his talents struck out on his own, even as a sideman. By the late summer of 1968, he’d abandon the steady paycheck of session work and jump headlong into rock — both the musical genre and lifestyle. While he was certainly prepared for the former, he was not particularly suited for the latter. I didn’t realize until I read Julian Dawson’s Hopkins bio how bad his substance abuse problem was. Alcohol especially, but cocaine and heroin were in the mix. And yet, as late as 1967, the Summer of Love and LSD, Nicky Hopkins was straight as an arrow.
When asked by Dawson about Hopkins, Mick Avory replied, “He wasn’t a drinker. We used to have a break at Pye Studios and go down to the pub, but he didn’t socialize a lot — probably because of his health. (Dawson, And On Piano…, p. 81) In fact, in discussing his session musician demands with What’s New Boston in September 1979, , Hopkins admitted, “I’d get home and go to bed and have 15 minutes’ sleep. I was doing this on the natch, no drugs, no nothing. I didn’t drink then. I didn’t even like to take an aspirin.” Doing a little speed would have been neither unusual nor necessarily frowned upon. Mike Vickers, a producer and arranger who enlisted Nicky’s services on many occasions, described the intense drudgery of session work: “Morning, afternoon, and evening. Pack up, get across town through the rush hour, park again, and in the meantime try to get something to eat that’s going to keep you going. I know it would be harder today, but it was blinking hard enough then!” (Dawson, And On Piano…, p. 57)
In reality, Nicky’s social life was virtually non-existent. Remember, he was only a few years removed from multiple surgeries and a 19-month hospital stay that doctors weren’t sure he’d survive. Thus, this scene of domesticity painted by Dawson, which could’ve described his life at any point between 1965 and September 1968.
It seems incongruous that Nicky remained a homebody in a time when other young people were doing all they could to break away from parental control. His mother could be accused of overcompensating in her attentions to her son, but Nicky’s frailty warranted special care and the convenience of staying in a familiar environment, where the right kind of food was available and where his clothes were not only washed, but bought for him by his mother. He had his own room, his piano, his tape recorders, his collections of comics, coins, records, and other weird and wonderful objects and no rent to pay. (pp 59-60)
–Julian Dawson, And On Piano…, pp. 59-60
His womb-like existence no doubt helped him focus on the task at hand, even if said task was less than inspiring. For all of the dull, lifeless sessions that made up his days, a few noteworthy sessions snuck through. Here’s two of them.
V.I.P.s – In A Dream
B-side to “Straight Down To The Bottom”
Recorded early 1967
Single released May 1967 (US)
Two things. First, you don’t even really hear Nicky until he drops in at 1:28 like Van Halen “parachuting” into Anaheim Stadium in ’78. Hopkins takes a violent solo, then bubbles underneath, and then comes in hard from 2:07 to the fade out. The second thing is Mike Harrison, the singer. White guy blues shouter who gets after it. Very impressed. Kinda maybe Steve Marriott by way of Sam Moore of Sam & Dave? Most, if not all of these musicians, including Harrison, went on to form Spooky Tooth, a band I’ve heard of, but never had much interest in. I feel compelled to at least do a Spotify/YouTube drive by.
“In A Dream” was written by Jamaican singer/songwriter Jackie Edwards and produced by Guy Stevens. If you know him, you either know Stevens as the guy who helped form Mott The Hoople or as the guy who produced London Calling. According to Mike Harrison, Stevens said to him, “‘I’ve got this guy who’s going to play the solo of a lifetime on (‘In A Dream’).’ Nicky arrived, played, and left almost without speaking!” (Dawson, And On Piano…, p. 67).
Incidentally, though Nicky Hopkins doesn’t play on the A-side, in a circuitous way it may have had more far-reaching implications for his career than its flip. The A-side is “Straight Down To The Bottom” a song written and produced by one Jimmy Miller. In fact, Miller would soon become Spooky Tooth’s producer, which got him noticed by Traffic, which got him noticed by the Stones, which put him in Nicky Hopkins’ orbit. Surely Miller and Hopkins were familiar with each other at this point, right? Maybe they never actually recorded together, but the London studio scene wasn’t THAT big in 1967.
For example, it seems inevitable that the careers of Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood would eventually intersect with both the Stones and Nicky Hopkins, given the common musical reference points between them. Where the Stones opened for Nicky Hopkins when he was in Cyril Davies’ R&B All-Stars, Rod Stewart opened for the Stones when he was in Steampacket (three times in July 1965, once that August) and prior to that when he was harmonica player and occasional singer in Jimmy Powell & The Five Dimensions (late 1963). Steampacket’s bassist was none other than Rick Brown aka Ricky Fenson aka the original bassist in Screaming Lord Sutch & The Savages and Cyril Davies & The R&B All-Stars (both with Hopkins) and the guy who Bill Wyman replaced in the Stones. Steampacket’s drummer later played with Brian Auger, Julie Driscoll & The Trinity and had a cuppa tea with Peter Green, John McVie, and John Mayall in the Bluesbreakers. However, as fate would have it, he was free in August 1967, when he joined Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Nicky Hopkins, Ronnie Wood, and Keith Emerson in the studio for a Rod Stewart/P.P. Arnold duet. That drummer’s name was Micky Waller.
Rod Stewart & P.P. Arnold – Come Home Baby
B-side to The Small Faces, “Don’t Burst My Bubble”
Recorded August 16, 1967
Promo single only
Rod Stewart, P.P. Arnold – co-lead vocals
Keith Richards – electric guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Keith Emerson – Hammond organ
Ronnie Wood – bass
Micky Waller – drums
Georgie Fame Brass Section – horns
Mick Jagger – producer
Produced by Mick Jagger, this is Rod the Mod and P.P. Arnold covering Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil‘s “Come Home Baby,” a 1965 Wilson Pickett/Tami Lynn duet. This was famously the first time Mick, Keith, and Ronnie Wood recorded together, but I believe this is also the first time Stewart, Wood, and Waller all played together. I have to imagine this session went a long way toward getting Waller in the Jeff Beck Group, as he officially joined them three months later. Keith Emerson’s presence seems strange at first, but given that he formed The Nice in 1967 to backup Arnold, I can see why he was in the loop. As for Arnold herself, she quit The Ikettes in 1966 and moved to England to jump start her solo career. Immediate Records, Andrew Loog Oldham‘s label, released a few singles on her in 1967, including a Cat Stevens cover that was a Top 20 UK hit. (That song no doubt influenced Rod Stewart because a decade later he took “The First Cut Is The Deepest” to #1 in the UK.) By the time this recording went down in August 1967, Arnold was essentially the fifth member of Immediate’s signature band, the Small Faces. She toured with them as backup singer, sang backup on “Itchycoo Park” (released as a single two weeks before this session), would sing backup on “Tin Soldier” (recorded a few months after), and was even dating lead singer/guitarist Steve Marriott.
So, given all the talent on hand, surely this was a massive hit, right? Medium hit? Minor hit??? No, no, and no. “Come Home Baby” was inexplicably never released as a proper single. Immediate issued it as the B-side to a Small Faces promo 7″ the following spring, so basically no one heard it. I’m not a fan of Rod Stewart’s entire career, but I am an early Rod Stewart junkie, and even I had NEVER heard this song until three freakin weeks ago while researching this post! You’d think even accidentally at some point its existence and my existence would coincide, but that never happened. It’s strange (and alluring) that this song was out there this whole time waiting for me to find it. How in the world did it stay hidden, especially given the principals involved? I’m not sure it’s a great song, but the more I listen to it, the more I like it.
According to Andy Neill’s book, Had Me a Real Good Time: The Faces Before During and After, “A stand off over studio costs occurred between Jagger and Immediate, resulting in Jagger’s eventual dissociation from the label.” Given that Andrew Oldham WAS Immediate Records, I suspect studio costs were the scapegoat for a larger fracture within the relationship. Let’s back up a few months.
1967 was the year the Stones came off three straight years of touring and immediately went to war against England itself. Which is to say, they were drawn into a rigged battle that was ultimately about little more than “petty morals.” On February 12, police raided Richards’ Redlands home at the behest of News Of The World, busting Keith, Mick, Marianne Faithfull, art gallery owner Robert Fraser, and “Acid King” David Schneiderman, all of whom were coming down from the effects of LSD. On May 10, Jagger, Richards, and Fraser were arraigned just as Brian Jones was getting arrested for drug possession at his London apartment. I’m sure the alignment of those two events was complete coincidence. On June 29, Mick was sentenced to three months in prison for Benzedrine possession and Keith was sentenced to one year in prison for allowing marijuana to be smoked on his property. Both men were released on bail the next day, appealed, and on July 31 were finally acquitted. Unfortunately, Robert Fraser plead guilty to heroin possession and was sentenced to six months hard labor. On October 30, Brian Jones was sentenced to nine months in prison for marijuana possession and for allowing marijuana to be smoked on his property. On December 12, that judgment was turned over on appeal. Jones was fined and given three years probation.
Brian Jones’ last interesting year of music was 1967 and you’re gonna hear some of it below. But, he was never the same after all this went down. Having the drug busts orchestrated by an out of control tabloid press in cahoots with a corrupt police force within a culture that wants to take their authority out on you would make anyone, let alone a public figure like Brian, rightfully paranoid. However, when you put legitimate paranoia in the head of a person already prone to paranoia, one whose diet consisted of whatever he could shoot, snort, swallow, or smoke, I’m not sure Jones had much of a chance. If anything, I’m surprised he didn’t die sooner. It’s worth noting here that Anita Pallenberg left Brian for Keith in the spring of 1967. That fact is often mentioned in terms of “poor, pitiable Brian,” but I have little sympathy for a man with a nasty habit of punching Anita in the face. For all of Keith’s flaws, he didn’t beat women, nor did he father five illegitimate children by the age of 23, both of which Jones assuredly did. Brian may have been a musical genius, but fuck him. He lost his way and it was his own damn fault.
At some stage (the band) realized that Andrew (Oldham)’s ideas on producing were only ideas he’d got from them in the first place. There must have been some sort of bust-up with Andrew ’cause all of a sudden they really wanted to get rid of him. Before they started Satanic Majesties a lot of time was booked at Olympic. Andrew was supposed to be there as producer. And he was there only in a literal sense. We went in and played a lot of blues just as badly as we could. Andrew just walked out. At the time I didn’t understand what was going on. They were probably a bit fed up with Oldham wanting to be the record producer and not really producing.”
—Ian Stewart, source unknown, but I think it was a 1981 Bill German interview
Andrew Loog Oldham adds an ironic dimension to this. Going into 1967, he’d been the Stones’ manager for four years and was credited as producer, but he was more of an overseer than producer. When Jimmy Miller worked on mike placement for the drums, it was as a guy who intimately understood how the drums worked in a specific arrangement and rhythm section. Oldham would want something to sound like Otis Redding, Miller could make it happen. The smartest thing Andrew ever did as producer was convincing Mick and Keith to write songs together. That was the key that unlocked their genius. Of course, it was also the suggestion that ultimately made Oldham AND Jones irrelevant because he basically taught them how to team up against a common enemy.
Motive met opportunity when Mick and Keith got busted in February. Andrew left England for the US, abandoning the “manage” portion of his manager title. Granted, he wasn’t going to dispense legal wisdom, but leaving the mess for Allen Klein to cleanup was a dick move. At some point that year, Oldham returned to help produce sessions for what would become Satanic Majesties, but he and Jagger eventually — perhaps inevitably — “had a row” and that was the end of that. The band didn’t formally announce the split with ALO until September, but beginning with either the May or July recording sessions, the Stones produced, guided, and directed themselves. For all of the wasted tape, there are moments of pure genius. Not bad for a bunch of dudes on acid.
Rolling Stones – She’s A Rainbow
Recorded May 17-21, 1967
Single released November 1967 (US only)
Released on Their Satanic Majesties Request, December 8, 1967
Mick Jagger – lead & backing vocal, percussion
Keith Richards – electric & acoustic guitar, backing vocal
Brian Jones – Mellotron, percussion, backing vocal
Nicky Hopkins – piano, celesta (?)
Bill Wyman – bass, backing vocal
Charlie Watts – drums, percussion
John Paul Jones – string arrangement
Glyn Johns – engineer
Into this maelstrom of legal and pharmaceutical activity, generational warfare, and internecine conflict, Nicky Hopkins soberly and stoically bestrode the Olympic Studios carpet, sat down at his bench, and delivered — in concert with John Paul Jones‘ strings — the most elegant and lyrical passage in the Stones’ catalog. Nicky’s piano stands out, echoing the classically-inflected beginning of “Situation Vacant,” recorded around the same time. It’s a stunning track, with lots of moving parts, but somehow everyone gets the right amount of space. Periodically you hear Keith’s jangly acoustic guitar flourishes, Charlie‘s rolling toms, the ooh la la backup vocals, and just enough stereo panning and Mellotron to get the idea across without devolving into ’60s self-parody. (There was plenty of that on other tracks.) The sophistication of JPJ’s string parts is particularly impressive. We’re not hearing a string quartet block chord underneath voices. These are distinctive outbursts — a cello squawk here, a violin stab there — so that even instruments within the orchestra have an individual character within the song. Like I said, LOTS of moving parts.
I think Steve Appleford gets the sentiment right in It’s Only Rock And Roll: Song By Song, even if he gets one critical detail wrong. “‘She’s A Rainbow’ was the final pure pop moment for the Stones. It was the last time Mick Jagger would ever sound childlike, singing fairy tale lyrics utterly devoid of his usual sex-baiting cynicism” (p. 65). He’s spot on with regard to Jagger. The only thing I disagree with is the notion that “Rainbow” was the FINAL pure pop moment for the band. In fact, I think “She’s A Rainbow” had so much melody that the band recorded a similar song with the leftovers of the idea only a few weeks later.
Rolling Stones – Dandelion
B-side of “We Love You”
Recorded June 1967
Single released August 18, 1967
https://youtu.be/14euIr7vaG4
Mick Jagger – lead vocal, maracas
Keith Richards – acoustic guitar, backing vocal
Brian Jones – Mellotron, sax
Nicky Hopkins – harpsichord
Bill Wyman – bass, organ
Charlie Watts – drums
John Lennon & Paul McCartney – backing vocals (?)
Glyn Johns & Eddie Kramer – engineers
Andrew Loog Oldham – producer (?)
When you listen to “She’s A Rainbow” and “Dandelion” back to back, you can hear they’re coming from the same strange (in a good way) place, which makes sense since they were recorded within a month of each other. The playful and childlike tone is so fundamentally at odds with the Stones discography. This is the band that brought you “Stupid Girl” and “Brown Sugar” and within a year would be singing to a 15-year-old girl, “I bet your mother don’t know you can scream like that.” And yet, when Mick sings, “Little girls and boys come out to play/Bring your dandelions to blow away” there is NO question he’s talking about dandelions. You have to give Jagger credit. He wasn’t a great singer in the way Steve Marriott or Roger Daltrey were great singers. Mick was a snarler who hit the notes he needed to hit. His real genius was making you believe he was who he sang he was. We speak with reverence of Bowie‘s ability to slip in and out of character, but Mick Jagger got there first.
While tonally similar to “She’s A Rainbow,” the arrangement of “Dandelion” is a bit different. For one thing, Nicky Hopkins plays harpsichord instead of piano, and again it’s used perfectly. In fact, do I dare say this is my favorite harpsichord rock song of all-time??? By my count, there are three “stars” of “Dandelion.” Hopkins is one, carrying the upper register and tickling the edge of the melody. The second is Charlie Watts, whose accents and tom rolls propel the back half of the song. The third star is the vocal arrangement. Mick’s lead vocal is purposefully playful (YES!), Keith’s wobbly high harmony complements him perfectly (doesn’t work on paper, but wouldn’t be the same without him), and I’m sorry, you’re never gonna convince me that’s not Lennon and McCartney on backing vocals. I’ve read denials over the years, but it sounds exactly like John and Paul. Probably another one of those mysterious coincidences that plagued 1967.
Rolling Stones – We Love You
Recorded July 1967
Single released August 18, 1967
https://youtu.be/e5gBiXOvr58
Mick Jagger – lead vocal
Keith Richards – electric guitars, backing vocal
Brian Jones – Mellotron
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Bill Wyman – bass
Charlie Watts – drums
John Lennon & Paul McCartney – backing vocals (?)
Andrew Loog Oldham – producer (?)
Glyn Johns & Eddie Kramer – engineers
The circumstances that made “We Love You” happen are probably more interesting than the song itself. It’s a pretty good track, but if you ask me to choose A-side or B-side when it comes to the Stones’ August 1967 single (“We Love You” b/w “Dandelion”), I’m choosing B-side every day and twice on Sunday. I think Lennon and McCartney singing on “We Love You” is the most famous thing about it now, but I like how their voices are used on “Dandelion” much better. Granted, “We Love You” speaks directly to their legal problems and was a statement of purpose and solidarity in the moment. I get that. But, as a standalone track divorced from context, it’s only pretty good.
The one thing that stands out about “We Love You” is Nicky Hopkins and Julian Dawson addresses him in a revealing passage from his Hopkins bio.
“We Love You” opens dramatically with the sound of footsteps and the clanging of prison doors, but apart from Brian Jones’ Mellotron parts, the key musical element of the song is Nicky’s dark and percussive piano riff. Nicky later recalled the origins of the song to Contemporary Keyboard magazine:
“The piano riff that starts the song was an idea I’d had in my head for about three weeks, and it fit beautifully.”
Keith Richards cheerfully acknowledged Nicky’s pivotal role in the creation of “We Love You,” though apparently without seeing any discrepancy between the pianst’s huge contribution and his total lack of a credit:
“Probably that’s the best example. We just had a very, very basic thing and Mick and I think we’re going to jail, so our minds weren’t totally concentrated. But yeah, that was Nicky’s riff all the way through. Without that piano it wouldn’t have happened.”
–Julian Dawson, And On Piano…, p. 91
“We Love You” was Andrew Loog Oldham’s last official session as producer of the Stones, though I’m not certain how much he participated. If we call back to the Rod Stewart/P.P. Arnold session above, the timeline looks something like this.
- July 1967 – “We Love You” recorded
- July 31, 1967 – Mick and Keith sentences turned over on appeal
- August 16, 1967 – Mick produces session on Rod Stewart and P.P. Arnold, recording “Come Home Baby” and “Working In The Coal Mine” for Immediate Records, Andrew’s label. Jagger and Immediate (i.e. Oldham) part ways over studio costs.
- August 18, 1967 – “We Love You” released
- September 20, 1967 – Stones announce they are splitting from Oldham
In retrospect, it looks like Oldham was escorted out of the palace gates in shame. However, I think it was probably a mutual decision. There was sufficient reason at the time to think he’d end up landing on his feet, especially with Immediate Records showing a lot of promise in the late summer of 1967. You could be in a lot worse positions than having the Small Faces under contract at the peak of their popularity. As for Mick and Keith, they’d go on to produce Their Satanic Majesties Request themselves, with extensive help from engineers Glyn Johns, Eddie Kramer, and George Chkiantz, let alone session men like Nicky Hopkins and John Paul Jones. As you can imagine, the people involved have their own takes.
“It’s not very good. It had interesting things on it, but I don’t think any of the songs are very good. It’s a bit like Between The Buttons. It’s a sound experience, really, rather than a song experience. There’s two good songs on it: ‘She’s A Rainbow,’ which we didn’t do on the last tour, although we almost did, and ‘2000 Light Years From Home,’ which we did do. The rest of them are nonsense. I think we were just taking too much acid. We were just getting carried away, just thinking anything you did was fun and everyone should listen to it. The whole thing we were on acid. Also, we did it to piss Andrew (Oldham) off, because he was such a pain in the neck. Because he didn’t understand it. The more we wanted to unload him, we decided to go on this path to alienate him.”
–Mick Jagger, Rolling Stone, December 14, 1995
“It was actually a lot of fun rather than a musical revolution. I don’t think the songs are as good as a lot of music we did before or after, not by a long way, but that happens. Sometimes you listen back to some music later on that is really quite good and which you’ve forgotten about, but I don’t think that’s true of Satanic Majesties.”
–Charlie Watts, According to The Rolling Stones, p. 108
“I can remember virtually nothing of those sessions. It’s a total blank.”
–Keith Richards, According to The Rolling Stones, p. 108
“Mick Jagger arrived at the studios when they were working on Their Satanic Majesties and said he wanted a load of unusual sounds that had never been done before. I had a nosh and finally thought of something using echo. I plugged it all in and finally got it to work. I got Mick to listen and he said, ‘Great, half a dozen more like that and we’re OK.'”
–Glyn Johns, 1968, source unknown, but quoted on timeisonourside.com
Satanic Majesties is so out of step in the Stones catalog, I totally get why it went underappreciated for so long. The worst parts of it aren’t bad, so much as self-indulgent and silly. There’s something to be said for experimentalism, but I think what Mick said is correct. It’s a sound experience, not a song experience. Take, for example, “Sing This All Together (See What Happens).” It’s 8 minutes long, which in this case is 5 minutes too long. It becomes tedious, but it isn’t completely tedious. There’s a funky voodoo blues vibe from :23-3:10 that totally sets the stage for Sticky Fingers and Exile. Great slashing guitar sound. And then it all falls apart. It’s Satanic in a nutshell.
Here’s how I break it down:
Essential (4): Citadel, 2000 Man, She’s A Rainbow, The Lantern
Essential, but slightly overrated (1): 2000 Light Years From Home
Flawed keepers (2): In Another Land, On With The Show
Tedious (3): Sing This All Together, Sing This All Together (See What Happens), Gomper
Since I already did “Rainbow,” I’m gonna finish with two of the other essential tracks and Nicky Hopkins’ signature contributions to both. Let me address a few of the other songs. I like “2000 Light Years From Home” and Nicky stands out on the dissonant piano stabs in the intro and outro. However, I think the song is slightly overrated because it doesn’t need to be 4:45. “In Another Land” is half Spinal Tap goofballery, half anthemic rock song, and Hopkins plays a mean harpischord during the Stonehenge parts. “On With The Show” would be easy to overlook, but unlike “Sing This All Together (See What Happens)” it condenses its acid-drenched mirth-making to an acceptably tidy 3:40. I think it captures the spirit of Satanic Majesties, flaws and all, as well as any track. And I wouldn’t have mentioned it if Nicky’s piano work in the last 36 seconds wasn’t so damn sublime.
Rolling Stones – The Lantern
Recorded October 2-5, 1967
Released on Their Satanic Majesties Request, December 8, 1967
Mick Jagger – lead & backing vocal
Keith Richards – electric & acoustic guitar
Brian Jones – Mellotron, organ
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Bill Wyman – bass
Charlie Watts – drums
Glyn Johns & Eddie Kramer – engineers
One of Satanic‘s best tracks is like the album itself in that it has revealed its magic over time. Again, Appleford: “The track contains a link to the rock and country sounds at the Stones’ deepest roots, most notably within the sudden, ecstatic flashes of guitar. Even amidst the swirling chaos, ‘The Lantern’ rocks, but only in frustrating spurts.” (It’s Only Rock And Roll: Song By Song, P. 65). For years I shared Appleford’s frustration with “The Lantern” not committing to rock. I had the same frustration with “In Another Land,” which is similarly structured. Over the years, though, I’ve softened my stance. I wanted the album to get its rocks off, but that’s not where the Stones were at in 1967. They were distracted, on too much acid, maybe chasing the Beatles too much for their own good, but they were still writing quality material. It’s just that the material resonated differently and to properly appreciate it, you had to hear it on its own terms.
Rolling Stones – 2000 Man
Recorded October 16-23, 1967
Released on Their Satanic Majesties Request, December 8, 1967
Film excerpt from Bottle Rocket, Wes Anderson, 1996
Mick Jagger – vocals
Keith Richards – electric guitar, backing vocal
Brian Jones – electric guitar
Nicky Hopkins – organ
Bill Wyman – bass
Charlie Watts – drums
Glyn Johns & Eddie Kramer – engineers
“They’ll never catch me, man … because I’m fucking innocent.”
Budding cinephiles are taught early on that Martin Scorsese wrote the book on how to use the Stones in movies. DeNiro’s intro to “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” in Mean Streets and “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking” in Casino immediately come to mind. However, I’ll take Wes Anderson‘s use of “2000 Man” in Bottle Rocket (1996), in part because it deliberately subverts the Stones/Scorsese trope. Anderson uses the band in his gangster flick, but because his gangsters are low-level knuckleheads — especially Owen Wilson’s Dignan — they get caught by the police. They aren’t romanticized, though they are humanized. Anderson is taking the piss out of our Scorsese-borne expectations, much like Their Satanic Majesties Request took the piss out of its own fans.
“2000 Man,” with Nicky Hopkins on organ in the chorus, is astonishingly prescient and the second best tune on the album (behind “She’s A Rainbow”). The juxtaposition of a 1967 Stones track with a character getting chased by cops was too much to pass up. Brilliant tune and brilliant invocation. On a side note, I’d like to extend my thanks to The Gourds for covering “2000 Man” on several occasions in the — appropriately enough — early 2000s. I believe my reappraisal of Satanic Majesties begins with Jimmy Smith, Kevin Russell, Claude Bernard, Max Johnston, and Keith Langford bringing this swinging track to life.
We end, not with the Stones, but with Yardbirds present and past. The Stones aren’t going anywhere in the Nicky Hopkins story and are ultimately more important. But, the Jimmy Page/Jeff Beck tangent took a significant turn in 1968 and a few sessions from ’67 pointed the way.
Yardbirds – Stealing, Stealing
Recorded April 1967
Released on Little Games, July 1967
Keith Relf – lead vocal, harmonica
Jimmy Page – acoustic guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Chris Dreja – jug (?), backing vocal
Jim McCarty – drums, kazoo (?), backing vocal
Granted, Jimmy Page had been working with Nicky Hopkins since 1965, well before the Stones, so this was a continuation of their mutual admiration society. Little Games has a few solid moments, but the band had no idea what they wanted to be, producer Mickie Most was better off with Herman’s fucking Hermits than an actual rock band, and though their producer was wrong for them, it’s not his fault they didn’t have many songs. In this sense, “Stealing, Stealing” is perfectly emblematic. It’s not that their cover of the 1928 Memphis Jug Band classic isn’t well played — Nicky Hopkins, in particular, excels on barrelhouse piano — it’s that they don’t seem to take it all that seriously. Maybe it’s the fart sounds, I don’t know. But, this is where The Yardbirds were in ’67. One song might have Jimmy Page bowing his guitar, the next might be a forgettable pop trifle, the next a jug band cover, and the next a killer guitar jam presaging Led Zeppelin. Let’s go to that one.
Yardbirds – Smile On Me
Recorded April 1967
Released on Little Games, July 1967
Keith Relf – lead vocal, harmonica, percussion
Jimmy Page – electric guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Chris Dreja – bass, backing vocal
Jim McCarty – drums, percussion, backing vocal
THIS is more like it. One of the only songs on Little Games that summons the fury of Roger The Engineer and lives up to the Yardbirds mythology. “Smile On Me” is a blues defined by three parts. The first minute is all about Chris Dreja and Jim McCarty, who throw down a proto-New York Dolls rhythm. McCarty’s rolling toms are right in the Jerry Nolan wheelhouse. Nicky Hopkins is there, too, buried in the mix, but tucked inside the rhythm section. Jimmy Page takes us to the second part of “Smile,” which begins at his first guitar solo (1:01-1:42). Not a lot of notes, but fat, nasty tone (courtesy of his Tone Bender distortion pedal), and Nicky Hopkins hammers percussively on the high end in a fashion similar to his playing on The Who’s My Generation LP. Keith Relf, solid throughout, sings another couple verses and then Page begins the third and final part of “Smile On Me” with a second solo (2:24-3:04) that rips through the song like an F5 tornado. Hopkins is there again with Page, a little lower in the mix than on the first guitar solo, but still carrying the high end. Epic jam. Love it.
Little Games was released in July and went nowhere. The Yardbirds kept relatively busy, touring the states all summer and gradually evolving into a heavier, more experimental outfit. By the end of the year, a Jake Holmes song worked its way into the band’s setlists and it showcased Jimmy Page’s comfort with slow building, guitar-centric heavyocity. That track was “Dazed And Confused.” The future was not yet upon them, but The Yardbirds’ days were numbered. Also numbered were Page’s days as a guitarist for hire. However, in late 1967 Page was one of the session hotshots enlisted to backup Keith De Groot (who was going by Gerry Temple).
Gerry Temple – Think It Over
Recorded late 1967
Released on No Introduction…, late 1968 (UK only)
Gerry Temple – lead vocal
Jimmy Page – electric guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano, arranger
Chris Hughes – sax
John Paul Jones – bass
Clem Cattini – drums
Glyn Johns – engineer
You’re forgiven if you’ve never heard of No Introduction…, or No Introduction Necessary, as it was later titled, or Burn Up, as it was known in France, or one of the two dozen or so aliases it’s known. Despite the heavyweight talent, it never really took off in large part because De Groot was more of a scenester than actual performer. I’m not sure if this is true — I have my doubts — but on the Speakeasy Records website I found a couple of fascinating tales attributed to De Groot.
“Keith sat on the roof of the building opposite The Hotel Pacific, Hamburg, with Lennon in 1962 after they set fire to the hotel and watched the whores and johns run for it, on Pethidine and Schnapps! Where was I – oh yeah. Keith was supposed to be in the car that crashed, killing Eddie Cochran -– but he overslept and got a train to the gig in Southampton instead!”
—Speakeasy Records
According to that same site, De Groot started out as a Buddy Holly cover act, so I suppose covering Holly makes sense. “Think It Over” features Page, who came to Olympic Studios in September or December when he was off tour with the Yardbirds. Most of the album had already been recorded, but the guitarists on the earlier session were already booked, so Jimmy came at the last minute to overdub solos. John Paul Jones, less than a year away from being Page’s bandmate, was enlisted on bass, while Nicky Hopkins went back to the Johnnie Johnson well for some more right hand piano magic. It’s worth mentioning that Hopkins is credited as arranger on No Introduction…, I believe for the first time in his career. Too bad it was on an album destined for the cutout bin. He also has a co-writing credit for “One Long Kiss,” which I would’ve included here, but it’s 9:46 and I think Nicky’s playing on these two songs is superior.
Like Jones and Hopkins, drummer Clem Cattini was a regular on the session circuit having played on a lot of the same dates as those musicians. In fact, he was the drummer at Nicky’s first recordings with The Kinks in November 1965. He also played with Page, who strongly considered Cattini for the drum vacancy in Led Zep. The drummer later recalled:
“I had played with Jimmy Page on dozens of sessions. And I’d worked with the bassist, John Paul Jones. We were together in Lulu‘s backing band for two years. I’d even done a session for Robert Plant’s first band. But no, I couldn’t really see myself with Zeppelin. I couldn’t have handled all those drugs. And I wouldn’t have liked my hair that long. They were probably better off with John Bonham.”
–Clem Cattini, The Observer, March 27, 2010
Yeah, probably.
Gerry Temple – Lovin’ Up A Storm
Recorded late 1967
Single released March 1968
Released on No Introduction…, late 1968 (UK only)
Gerry Temple – lead vocal
Albert Lee & Big Jim Sullivan – electric guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano, arranger
Chris Hughes – sax
John Paul Jones – bass
Clem Cattini – drums
Glyn Johns – engineer
“Lovin’ Up A Storm” was a Jerry Lee Lewis single that Sun released in February 1959. Obviously, if you have a Killer song, you’re gonna need a killer pianist, so Nicky Hopkins takes off on a great, 4-bar solo from :55-1:12. That’s immediately followed by a stunning 4-bar guitar solo. I’m not exactly sure who takes that solo because the session featured a pair of guitarists, both of whom were more than capable. Big Jim Sullivan is mostly unknown in the US, but he was a versatile, highly sought after session player in the 1960s, and he later joined Tom Jones‘ band. (I suppose that makes Sullivan the British James Burton.) Also, it wasn’t De Groot who nearly died in the April 1960 crash that killed Eddie Cochran — and critically injured Gene Vincent — it was Sullivan. Big Jim was in The Wildcats and they were the group backing Cochran and Vincent on that fateful tour of Britain. IN YOUR FACE, DE GROOT!
The other guitarist on this session was 23-year-old Albert Lee, an otherworldly fingerpicker and stringbender who’d later gain a measure of fame in Emmylou Harris‘ Hot Band and touring with Eric Clapton. This guitar solo (1:12-1:28) is so bendy, I suspect it’s him. Lee was probably at this session because he previously played with De Groot in Chris Farlowe‘s backup band, The Thunderbirds. I know this because Albert himself asserted that factoid in an Amazon review of No Introduction…. No, seriously.
According to Dawson, Lee was one of the backup singers on Screaming Lord Sutch & The Savages’ second single, “Jack The Ripper” (which I covered in WWNHD: Part 1). That puts Lee damn near at the beginning of Hopkins’ professional career. So, there’s a certain amount of full circling afoot when they hook up in a short-lived band in 1968. I will certainly explore that further in the next post, though truthfully, there’s THAT much to tell.
The subject for which there will be much to talk about, that might be THE central pivot in Nicky Hopkins’ career, is his joining the Jeff Beck Group in September 1968. He was coming as a touring member of the band, something he’d only done sporadically, and not since 1962-63. He was leaving the known comforts (and drawbacks) of the session world and I maintain that it was this December 1967 session, in concert with the Rod Stewart/P.P. Arnold session back in August, that persuaded Hopkins to hook his wagon to Beck and Co. When you hear “I’ve Been Drinking,” the initial response is probably, “Well duh. Who wouldn’t want to be part of this band?” However, keep in mind that he was turning down Jimmy Page’s offer to join Led Zeppelin in order to join the JBG. With the benefit of hindsight, perhaps this song was prescient. Hopkins would most assuredly quit sobriety without the steadying influence of the recording studio and domesticated home life, but the decision to NOT join Zep would drive anyone to the bottle.
Jeff Beck – I’ve Been Drinking
B-side to “Love Is Blue (L’Amour Est Bleu)”
Recorded December 5-7, 1967
Single released April 1968
Rod Stewart – lead vocal
Jeff Beck – electric guitar
Nicky Hopkins – piano
Ronnie Wood – bass
Micky Waller – drums
Madeline Bell – backing vocal
If I could choose any rock singer at the height of his or her vocal powers, I probably have to go with Rod Stewart. His run from 1967-74 is almost flawless. 1967 was kind of a strange year for him, in the sense that he was Beck’s lead singer, but he had only one lead vocal that year on vinyl, a B-side at that. “Rock My Plimsoul” was the flip to “Tallyman,” a 7″ released in July in the UK, and a cover of B.B. King‘s 1964 single, “Rock Me Baby.” In December of 1967, Stewart went back in the studio to cut “I’ve Been Drinking,” another B-side released in April 1968. (The track was later reissued as an A-side after the Jeff Beck Group broke up in 1972 — when Rod was starting to hit his commercial stride — and that version of the single went #27 UK in May 1973.)
Rod is in full Sam Cooke mode as Nicky Hopkins, playing underneath, takes us to church. The Wood/Waller rhythm section keeps it simple, laying behind the beat, while Madeline Bell helps out with background “oh yeahs.” As for the bandleader, Beck himself lays low until coming in with a pinched, sax-inspired guitar solo from 1:21-1:42 and then re-emerges from 3:00 to the quick fade out. The only thing about the song that doesn’t make any sense are the overlapping Rod vocals in the back half of the song. It sounds like a guide vocal got stuck on the tape and they just went with it. It most certainly doesn’t ruin the track, but if they could’ve removed it I’m guessing they would have. Still, this is an all-timer jam and sets us up for Nicky Hopkins in 1968.
NEXT TIME: Blues De Luxe (WWNHD: PT 6)
Nicky joins the Jeff Beck Group, continues his relationship with the Stones (who are moving from psychedelia into their classic Jimmy Miller period), wraps things up (not quite amicably) with Ray Davies and The Kinks, and plays with some band called The Beatles. There’s also some session work. As usual, lots to get into, so this one might take a month or so. See you on the flippity-flop.
PREVIOUSLY ON HILL STREET BLUES
The Revolutionary Piano of Nicky Hopkins (WWNHD: Part 4)
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)
SPOTIFY
FYI, I have a chronological and ongoing Nicky Hopkins playlist on Spotify. It includes almost every song I’ve featured thus far and will eventually span his entire career. I’ve also created a Nicky Hopkins’ Influences playlist on Spotify, so I can highlight the likes of Jerry Lee Lewis, Otis Spann, and Johnnie Johnson.
YOUTUBE
I created mirror playlists on YouTube. There’s the chronological and ongoing Nicky Hopkins playlist and the Nicky Hopkins Influences playlist, which I’ll flesh out in a future post(s).
Wow! Thanks for this amazing work Lance!