Original article (in Spanish) published in Revista Madhouse on August 13, 2017

And on the eight day God created The Dirty Strangers. Or something. Because the story of one of the most particular London cult bands of the last three-odd decades actually had to do with earthlier facts. No eighth day of creation, then. God has never taken up the work again, he just had to settle for seven days to do what he could do. Instead came Alan Clayton, singer, guitarist and, most of it all, main man behind the songs of the Shepherd´s Bush band, one of the most cosmopolitan areas of the British capital city.


The Dirty Strangers in the ’80s: Ray King, Dirty Alan Clayton, Mark Harrison, Scotty Mulvey, Paul Fox

Like in a theater programme, to get to know about the days and the times of the Dirtys suggests a brief description of the cast. The first name on the list is irrevocably (again) Clayton, the band´s heart and soul, or as clearly described in the group´s website: “The band were on a mission: carrying a torch for rootsy rock’n’roll as invented by Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent and Chuck Berry but laced with a little bit of Otis Redding soul and a side order of punk attitude” Oh yes. The original cast that spawned the early days of the Dirty Strangers’ biography continues with Jim Callaghan, most remembered as the Rolling Stones’ touring security chief  for at least 30 years, currently retired, who Clayton used to work for when he still hadn´t picked up the music path. Next is former boxer Joe Seabrook, Alan´s close friend, who also did Security for Callaghan before becoming Keith Richards’ (yes, that Keith Richards) personal bodyguard, till he passed away in 2000. There´s also Stash Klossowski De Rola (better known as Prince Stash), an aristocratic dandy all the way from the London ‘60s bohemian scene, one of Brian Jones’ closest mates, whom he was busted with on a historic drug raid in 1967. Last but not least is the very Keith Richards himself (yes, that Keith once again) as prime eventual catalyst, who thanks to all the aforementioned characters ended up being not only the band´s unofficial godfather, but also a very close friend of, of course, Alan Clayton’s. One thing lead to another and, 30 years and four albums later (“The Dirty Strangers”, “West 12 To Wittering (Another West Side Story)”, “Crime And A Woman”, and “Diamonds”, a compilation), the nowadays four-member group (Clayton on vocals and guitar, Scott Mulvey on piano, Cliff Wright on bass and drummer Danny Fury) prepare to record a new album early next year. As they’ve been doing since their early days, in the meantime they´ll keep doing the odd club circuit in England, with 3 gigs in Spain by late September (in Barcelona, Zaragoza and Reus) recently added.


A promo poster of the Dirtys’ self-titled first album, with Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood as guests

REVISTA MADHOUSE visited Clayton´s place last November to interview him and go over the band´s history. In order to get to Dirty Alan´s headquarters (which backyard includes an intimate and tiny personal recording studio) one needs to reach the Hammersmith and Fulham Borough, in West London, not far from the legendary Wormwood Scrubs prison, which involved a truly funny question after asking a local lady about the right directions in order to get there by mentioning the traditional jail (“Oh, your friend lives there?”) Along with Alan was bandmate Danny Fury (once drummer of the Lords of the New Church, among other great bands he was in), whom we´ll soon feature an exclusive interview with too. So here´s a smooth (and sometimes also wild) ride about the lives and times of the Dirty Strangers in the very own words of its creator, a rock’n’roll task that took him longer than, rather more than, seven days.


Clayton, Wright and Mulvey, on a recent show

The Dirtys were born in the mid-80’s but what before that, I mean, personally, as a musician?Alan: The band formed in ’78. I mean, I started playing guitar I suppose in ’76, something about that I used to write songs and poetry. Because most of the people think that when I met Keith, that’s where the band started. And the reason why I met Keith is because we were very successful. The Lords of the New Church were a big band, and the Dirtys had their own scene playing the Marquee. Your career moves very fast when you´re young.  And about three years before I met Keith, I met him in ’81, we had already headlined the Marquee.

So what´s the story behind you getting to meet Keith? How did that really happen?
Alan: I was the Jack of all trades, and one of my jobs was, like, Security. Joe Seabrook was one of my best mates, I knew Joe before he met Keith. My first day with Keith was in Big Joe´s pub.


The Verulam Arms, Joe Seabrook´s former pub in Warford

Joe had a pub?
Alan: Yeah, in Watford, called The Verulam Arms.

Watford? That’s Elton John’s hometown, isn’t it? That’s close to where I’m staying now, in Hemel Hempstead.
Alan: Right, very close. In fact Joe had a place in Hemel Hempstead as well.

So Joe was doing Security at the time.
Alan: Yeah, he had a pub, and he was doing Security, and we became good friends. He was the Stranglers’ bodyguard, Big Country’s bodyguard…

Then how did you meet Jim Callaghan?
Alan: Jim and Paddy was the one I worked for, it was a firm called Call A Hand.  So I worked for Paddy and Jim, and Joe came to work for Paddy and Jim as well. Because of Joe’s immense stature and presence, he became a bodyguard as well.


Keith Richards and Alan in the early ’80s: friendship and guitars

He was a boxer, wasn’t he?Alan: Yeah, he was.

So you were doing Security on your own.
Alan: Yeah, working for Jimmy, for Jimmy Callaghan.

And then I guess you met Keith through Joe…
Alan: Yeah. And because I had this musical connection with Joe, when Joe started working for Keith, he wanted Keith to hear our music, ‘cause he knew Keith would like it. Carlton Towers in Knightsbridge. He took me out to meet Keith. And it was funny because he brought me into his bedroom. I arrived at the hotel 11 in the evening, so I was working during the day.  And I said “when are we going to see him?”, and Joe said, “he doesn’t get up until 2 in the morning”. Fuck it! I’d been at work all day!

How did you feel about that at the time? Were you somehow excited? I guess you’ve always liked Keith as a guitar player…
Alan: Of course I was excited! I had other people I preferred but I liked the stuff he likes, Otis Redding, Motown…The Stones were always a band I liked, but I liked The Who more, as they were always more of a London band for me. So that’s how I met him. I remember I went into his bedroom in the Carlton Towers, and Joe said “this is Alan, he plays in a band that sounds like the Stones used to sound” And Keith said “look forward to that, it’s been a while” And two days later he’d say to me “I’m off to Paris now”, and I said “oh I’d never been to Paris”, so he sent his chauffeur around asked me to take a guitar and swordstick and said “come and stay with me in Paris”. And I’d only known him for 2 days, you know.

Just like that.
Alan: His chauffeur turned up in Keith’s Bentley. Picked me up and drove to Paris. His dad Bert was still living in Dartford, where Keith came from, so on our way to Dover, he picks up Bert. So that’s me and Bert in the Bentley, we went to Paris.


Keith and Alan in recent times: friendship and sofas

The three of you.
Alan: Well, Keith was flying there. Just me, Bert and the chauffeur.

That must have been a great ride!
Alan: Oh it was good!

Great story, and great way to start as well!
Alan: But I’d already been in the studio with Ronnie (Wood). We’d done “Baby” and “Here She Comes”, and “Easy To Please”.

And that’s on your first album.
Alan: Yeah, right. And then “Thrill Of A Thrill” So I’d already been recording with Ronnie, and Keith helped set up shows in Paris. We still never had a record deal, and it was only a couple of years later when Mick (Jagger) was doing his solo album, and all sort of fell into place.

And all because of Joe, right?
Alan: Yeah yeah. Joe was a major part of my career, because the first live shows we’ve ever done was in his pub. But before that I was working for Jimmy Callaghan doing Security. I worked at the Stones’ concerts Earl’s Court in ’76. I had lots of strange jobs from Jimmy. I used to clear out brothels. That’s a house with prostitutes.

Where was that?
Alan: In Soho. And then I used to work for Jimmy, and clear out those brothels.

Yes, Jim used to be very nice with me in the USA in ’94 while I followed the tour, very helpful.
Alan: He’s a lovely man. It was through Joe that I met Keith, but Jimmy was my first friend.


The Ruts. Paul Fox is holding a beer can.

Alan, I want to ask you about Paul Fox, who was formerly with the Ruts, but he was an early member of the Dirty Strangers, in the first line-up, wasn´t he?
Alan: Not in the first line-up of the band, but in the first one who went to America. And he also played on the first album, but it was Alistair Simmons, who also played in the Lords of the New Church. He wrote “Baby”, “Running Slow”…There are still songs I’m doing that I wrote with him. And when Alistair left the Dirty Strangers, he joined the Lords of the New Church. Lovely and fantastic bloke, but couldn’t keep it together all the time, you know. As for Paul Fox, it was funny, because when Malcolm Owen, the singer…You know about The Ruts, don’t you?

A little bit…
Alan: The Ruts were gonna tour with The Who, but Malcolm was a junkie, and he fuckin’ had to cancel a tour with The Who. It was a real unfortunate ending for him. When I used to work doing Security, I’d seen The Ruts and I thought “I could be a singer in this band” They came from West London as well, so there was a bit of a connection there. And 3 or 4 years later I’m in the back of this cinema in Kensal Rise in London, trying to get a gig in this old cinema, it’s not there anymore. And Paul Fox was there and he said “you really remind me of my old singer” And I said “you know what, when your singer died, I was gonna fuckin’ apply for the job” And then he said “I wish you had”, ‘cause after Malcolm died, The Ruts went in a complete different direction. And I got to know him. He had got on stage with us for a couple of gigs. He was a new friend I had found I really liked. And two weeks before we were gonna tour America Alistair fucked up. We had just got a manager and this tour would cost him a lot of money. And Alistair was always on that edge of being brilliant or fuckin’ terrible. The last gig for the Hells Angels, you know.  He was so out of it he couldn’t play his guitar. And my manager said “I’m not paying the money to take him to America” All the temptations he would be offered over there…

Huty21393 021

Oh yeah: More Dirtys, early days

So he wasn’t part of it.
Alan: No. it was a big decision. He was my best friend. We sacked him two weeks before they toured America. It was one of our goals. So I rang Paul Fox up and asked him to do the tour. And then he joined the band.

How was that American tour?
Alan: We only toured the East Coast. It wasn’t actually a tour, it lasted for seven days or something.

All small venues?
Alan: Well, we played the Cat Club in New York, which is a big one. And places around New York, you know. Boston, etc.

So that was the first time the Dirtys played there.
Alan: Yeah. We didn’t have a record deal then either.

And that was before you met Ronnie.
Alan: No, I’d met Ronnie! A couple of years before.

Ok you had already recorded the songs, but you didn’t have a record deal yet.
Alan: Yeah. We recorded with Ronnie, and then we recorded with Keith. Mick had bought his solo album out. That’s how Keith had the time.


And then one day the Dirtys met Ronnie Wood…

The album was produced by Prince Stash, but how did he get into the scene?
Alan: You know, Stash got busted with Brian Jones. When Keith came to the studio to record with us, Stash was with him. If you see that photograph…There´s a photo with all of us in the studio with Keith and Stash. And afterwards Stash said “who is bringing the record out?” So he formed Thrill Records after “Thrill of a Thrill”, the first song on the album. So he formed the label and dedicated a year of his life. I mean, it got released worldwide, and it done well. It all seemed so easy at the time, but now you say “fuck I would love to have that now”, you know. And he put money into it, he was great. I have some great stories about him. Do you remember Pinnacle, the distribution company for independent record companies. When you went down there you had 20 minutes to state your case, 45 minutes later Stash is still telling them what a fantastic album it was…

So everything just clicked.
Alan: It did, but when we were in America it all started to go wrong. What happened was that in Britain we sold a lot of albums, and when Stash took it to America they used Keith’s name as an advertisement. Keith played with us before he did his first solo album. And when he started his first solo album, which was a big deal at the time, it was in his contract that he wasn’t on any other albums, and Jane Rose (Keith´s manager) always said “when Keith records with friends, it’s best to let the people find out about Keith playing on it otherwise it could go wrong”. So in America Stash added a sticker on the cover of the album saying “The Dirty Strangers featuring Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood” And Keith was just about to release his solo album exclusive, and so our album got banned in America. And I understand why it wasn’t smart how they advertised it in America. So everyone just fucking used his name as if it was an advertising tool.

10..Was it Stash the one who came up with the idea of putting on the sticker on the album?
Alan: Oh yeah, that must have been Stash, yeah. Keith played on that as a friend.

Changing the subject now…A few years ago you worked with John Sinclair, who used to manage the MC5, and also an activist.
Alan: Not just the manager, he was the inspiration, he was a lot more to it.

That´s right, in fact he was one of the founders of the White Panther Party. But hen again, you worked with him in his “Beatnik Youth album in 2012. I saw that video on YouTube that…
Oh but that’s different to “Beatnik Youth” Well, you know, John Sinclair and the MC5. I didn’t come across him, really. My knowledge of MC5 came from Brian James. And I got a phone call from George Butler, the drummer before Danny in the band, and he went “I got a friend of mine, Tim, from Brighton, who would like to do recording with John Sinclair. Can we do some recording in the studio” And I said “yeah, of course” So John Sinclair came over. I found out about him, I was intrigued about him…And he came over and, like when I met Keith, it was almost the same, I instantly bonded with John. I thought “another kindred spirit!”


John Sinclair, a legend in b&w

Yeah, he came a long way.
Alan: Yeah, he’s been around. And at the time of “West 12 to Wittering”, Youth produced some of it. You know “She’s a Real Boticelli”, the single…

Oh I love that song! That’s one of my favourites.
Alan: If you asked me how I wrote that…Youth produced the single, A Youth mix. You know Youth, he produced The Verve. He was the bass player in Killing Joke. He’s fine when producing. He’d done The Verve, he’s got a band with Paul McCartney. He’s a really great bloke. Told him that I had met John Sinclair, and he produced “Lock and Key”, and he said “why don’t we do an album?” So we wrote an album.
Danny: That’s cool.
Alan: Yeah. It’s waiting to come out as well. Fuck it, it’s a fantastic album! The sort of music I’ve never really been involved into, ‘cause Youth comes from different areas. We’ve known each other for a long time. And John Sinclair, that was it. ‘Cause John was going around Europe playing, he lives in Amsterdam now, and he’d be picking up these generic bar bands that would be in a bar, and they would just played blues, and he’d do his bit of poetry over it. What me and Youth wanted to do was taking it to song level, so he had an album with actual songs, not just generic blues with beat of poetry. So we used his beat poetry as the verses, and we got choruses. So he turned them into songs.

Would you say you were part of the London punk scene, or was it general rock’n’roll?
No, I came after with the Dirty Strangers. When Punk was going, I loved Punk, it was fuckin’ great, ‘cause it took me from being a bloke that only got to play in his bedroom to someone that believed that could form a band. And I really did. And I could always write songs. I could always write poetry and stuff like that, so I loved the punk scene. At the time in 1976, I was 22, and all the punks were pretending to be 16, 17…All the punks like Mick Jones, Tony James, they were my age. 22 or 23. So even when I wasn’t in a band, I knew Mick Jones before he was in The Clash, because I used to work in Shepherd’s Bush’s Hammersmith College of Art’s building, and he was an art student there. His first gig supporting The Kursaal Flyers at the Roundhouse. So I felt connected to the Punk scene because I knew Mick. It was a heavily West London-influenced scene, so I was right in the middle of it anyway. And they were all my age. And about that time I was doing Security at all the concerts, so I’d see all the bands. And I’d say it definitely inspired me to form a rock’n’roll band. All the punk bands I liked were really rock’n’roll bands with a new energy.

You always seemed to me to be deep into ‘50s and ‘60s stuff.
Oh I just love rock’n’roll, you know.  What I love more than anything? Seeing women dance when we’re playing…

I’d like to talk a bit about the “West 12 to Wittering” album. Once again, we know that Keith played piano there, and he actually plays in a several songs. So does Ronnie Wood. Plus it’s not only my favourite Dirtys’ album, but one of the few albums that I’m always playing at home ever since I got it. That’s how much I love it.
Thank you, thank you very much.

And just a few days ago I was walking down the streets here in London playing it on my iPod, and it’s an album that gives you that perfect London atmosphere…
Of course, it’s about London, definitely.

I mean, you don’t play Madonna when you’re walking down in London.
Alan: Hahaha! Yeah, the Dirty Strangers is a good choice. And the story about it is, I’d just done the ‘A Bigger Bang’ tour with the Stones, and the Dirty Strangers hadn’t been going for about 8 years.  I’ve done the ‘A Bigger Bang’ tour for about 2 and a half years, and while I was away I wrote a lot of songs, and when I came back I decided I wanted to get the band back together, but at the time it was only me, John Proctor, and George Butler, just a 3-piece, and we were called Monkey Seed.

You changed the name of the band?
Alan: No. What happened was, the Dirty Strangers were sort of dissolved, we never split up. We’d hadn’t played for too long, not earning any money and, you know people get demotivated. So when I decided to get the band back together, I wanted it to be a fresh start. So I wanted a new name. I wasn’t gonna do any Dirty Strangers songs, only new songs. But I wrote all the Dirty Strangers’ songs anyway. So I went to Ian Grant, which just got Track Records, and I said to him, “I’ve got this album of songs. Do you fancy signing me to Track Records?” He said ye. He likes the stuff I’m doing.  And he said “why are you changing the name?” I said “well, because I want a fresh start” And he said “Alan you’re 50-odd” (laughs) “You’re not twenty anymore!” And he was right! He said “listen, you’ve got all this reputation as the Dirty Strangers, basically you are  the Dirty Strangers. Why would you change the name? It never gone wrong for the Dirty Strangers” So he said, “I advise you to call the band the Dirty Strangers”. And I went “all right” Sometimes you’re happy for people to tell you this stuff, ‘cause you don’t realize it sometimes. You think, “yeah I have a new band, I’m gonna call it this, I’m not gonna do The Dirty Strangers” So we got that together, I told Keith, and he said “do you want me to play guitar on it?”, and I went “no, I’m playing guitar on this one” And I said “can you play piano on it?” And he went “yeah, fuckin’ of course!”, you know. And that’s why it’s called “West 12 to Wittering”, because he lives in Wittering, and I took my recording gear from here (W12), and we set up camp.


Alan Clayton, ex-bass player John Proctor and drummer Danny Fury

Where did you record it?
Alan: In Redlands. His stuff, the piano, was recorded in Redlands.

So you stayed with him at the time there?
Alan: Oh, I stayed with him lots of different times.

It’s beautiful in there, isn’t it?
Alan: Yeah, lovely. So much so, if I moved from London, that’s a part of the world I’m gonna move to.

Small world, two days ago I saw Ian Hunter in Shepherd’s Bush and, as I left, I met this couple who live there.
Alan: Ian Hunter? Did he play Shepherd’s Bush?

Oh yeah. Just 3 days ago. He never played in South America, and he’s not likely to play soon, so I couldn’t miss it. With Graham Parker as support act.
Alan: Oh I love Graham Parker!
Danny: Do they advertise it these days?
Alan: It’s like if it’s sold out, there’s no advertising.

I’m sorry, now I’m starting to feel guilty!
Alan: I didn’t know that he was playing some time.
Danny: If you go to the websites, usually they’re there.
Alan: Usually there would be an ad in the Evening Standard, or in Time-Out.
Danny: In the past it used to be Melody maker, you found all the gigs in there.
Alan: Time-Out for me. Growing up in a band, was the place where they put all the gigs in, and now it’s selected gigs.

What about “Crime and a Woman”, the new album? I know it’s a concept album.
Alan:  It’s a story that goes from start to the end, if you want it to be a story. If you want it to be a collection of rock’n’roll songs, it’s a collection of rock’n’roll songs. But there is a story within it probably for my own benefit, more than anybody else’s. It’s a story that goes for it.14..

Yes, you told me it’s an album you wanted to do in a more personal way, after I asked you why Keith isn’t in the album, and you said you wanted it to be “your” album.
Alan: Yeah yeah. Because the thing is, it is great having Keith as one of your best mates, but the downside is once you play your own stuff, whenever anyone comes to see you some are disappointed I’m always getting this continuous question, “Would Keith be playing with you?” or “Would he be turning up?” I understand why more people say that, but it’s not his band. It’s my band that he happens to play in now and then, it is  the Dirty Strangers. And this one, I wanted it to be representative of us live, what we’ve recorded.

Well, I still love the album a lot.
Alan: I love it as well, because it sounds great. “Keith, can you come and play on this?” And he’s great, but he’s not playing live with us.

You’re always writing on your own, you’re the only one that writes the songs for the Dirtys, isn´t it?
Alan: And now I’ve been playing with Danny for a little while. Danny writes songs, and sure he’ll contribute down the line.

But basically all the songs on the new album are yours.
Alan: Yeah, but there’s a couple like “Running Slow” and “Are You Satisfied”, which was co-written with Alistair… He’s been dead for 10 years. He was a good mate of mine. And “One Good Reason” was co-written by Tam Nightingale. And Scotty co-wrote “Short and Sweet” But really, it was my album.

What inspires you to writes songs? Is it everyday life?
Alan: Definitely, everyday life. If I have a lull in my life, like a lot of people I write better with my back against the wall. When I’m comfortable, when everything’s alright, I find it very hard to write songs, ‘cause my life is at peace. Don’t you find that Danny, if there is turmoil in your life, then  you write better songs?
Danny: Yeah!

Then there wouldn’t be any blues players.
Alan: Yeah, exactly.  It’s the hard time that make you dig in and dig deep.

And I believe it’s the same with writers.
Alan: Yeah. Well how many tortured writers and comedians we know? People that are manic depressive, they put this beautiful work out.
Danny: They focus on their inner turmoil.

Somehow you’re exorcising your problems, you know what I mean. It’s therapy.
Alan: That’s definitely right. If I have something strong my mind, I’ll definitely write a song about it.


The Dirty Strangers today. From L-R: Danny Fury, Alan Clayton, Cliff Wright and Scott Mulvey

Out of the lyrics, you don’t find bands like the Dirty Strangers around these days. I mean, all that bluesy lowdown rock’n’roll with a punky edge….And now Danny’s welcome, so that means some fresh new blood.
Alan: Yeah, right!

What’s your take on the current London music scene?
Alan: You know, can I be honest to you? I don’t give a fuck about the music scene, I only care about the Dirty Strangers. When you’re in a rock and roll band, you can’t care about anybody else. Really, because you fuckin’ love rock’n’roll. Don’t you think that’s right, Danny?
Danny: Yeah, you´re sort of caught up in your own thing, you know. But if I can maybe answer that thing, I’ve got a little different impression anyway, as I’m still a little bit interested in what’s going on. You put new stuff in the context of old so, in a way, if you want to release it to the world, you work. That’s what my interest comes from. It’s actually, like Alan said, it’s a limited customer, you know. But I think there’s a lack of personalities, a lack of true expression, everybody seems to copy something that’s already been done before.

Well, that’s because they’re only after the money.
Alan: Yeah yeah.
Danny: Either it’s music you just make for money, but there’s not much that really reaches and touches, you know what I mean, a genuine expression of a personality.
Alan: Also, I’m still discovering music from the ‘50s, you know how I mean, there is such a body of music out there.
Danny: So much music out there…
Alan: I’d like to know if there’s still music going on, with youngsters. It’s not for me to comment what 15 year olds like, ‘cause I’m not 15 years old, right? But at my own age I know what I do, I play rock’n’roll.  I see many bands compromise, but we never compromise, we just play what we play. During my career I have been really trendy, then forgotten, then trendy again. You just do what you do.

Yes, it’s just like you said, it’s always about going back to the past, there’s so much in there.
Alan:  I listen to the radio a lot, so I don’t shut myself from the outside world. But there’s still people writing great songs. With rock and roll I am very protective, you’ve got bands who toy with rock and roll.
16..As it was just a word…
Alan: Yeah, and I live my life for it. I know I’ve done it for a long time.

So, if I may ask, what do you do for a living out of the Dirty Strangers?
Alan: I’m Danny’s butler! (laughs heavily)

You know, I was just curious…
Alan: He’s from Switzerland. He has loads of money.

You know, people from Switzerland, they’re the rich ones…
Of course they are! (laughs) They’re employing us all.
Danny: I have to change his name to James or something… (laughs)

Alan, there’s a funny story involving you and Bob Marley I’d really like you to tell me about.
Alan:  Of course I’ll do! When I was working for Jimmy Callaghan, in the late ‘70s, and we were working at Crystal Palace’s Bowl, which was an outdoor concert in South London. And at the time the backstage area didn’t have dressing rooms, it was big tents. And it was my job to look after Bob Marley’s tent. Big Joe was there. And what happened, back then, security wasn’t like it is now. The backstage area had low fences all the way round, not a lot of security, so every Jamaican seemed to think it was their right to meet Bob Marley.  So they were jumping over the fence, trying to get in his tent, and I was the only one stopping them.

He was the big thing.
Alan: Of course he was, the big thing for Jamaicans. It was the spiritual man for them, and everything. And the people that were trying getting into his tent didn’t like the fact I might be in the way to stop them, as that was my job, and what happened was there was always commotion going on. And someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, “come in”, pulled me into Bob Marley’s tent. Bob Marley’s sitting on an amp playing guitar, and he rolled this big spliff. And all the time Bob Marley was just playing guitar they got me stoned to calm me down. I was 20 or 25 minutes in there. And then they sent me outside, ‘cause I had calmed down.

Come on, 20 minutes with Bob Marley, that’s a great story!
Alan: Yeah!

Were you into Jamaican music at the time?
Alan: You know, when I was young, my first music was ska. Johnny, my dad, was a teddy boy, so he loved rock and roll. He’s a singer, you know, I’ve done an album with him.

Yeah, I’ve read about that.
And Keith’s playing on it, and Bobby Keys. That’s my dad’s album, Johnny Clayton.

Was it released? Or is a personal recording?
No it’s not, but it’s gonna be released. Brian James, Keith Richards, Bobby Keys, Jim Jones (of the Jim Jones Revue) and Tyla, all playing with my dad.

19..All studio sessions?
Yeah.  But this record, “Crime and a Woman”, we finished recording it at a place called The Convent who ran out of money but had already pressed the CD. Cargo distributed them, which we sell from the Facebook site, from the shop site. That’s the next release, my Dad’s album. The John Sinclair one was already out on another label, and the Dirty Strangers are about to record another album. But before that we’re gonna re-release the first one with all new stuff, outtakes… I think that my dad’s album is gonna be released at the same time of that. There’s only great people on that.

Yeah, great line-up! Can’t wait for that. So are there any new songs, or is it all cover versions?
  No, all Dean Martin songs, and Frank Sinatra. So the band is Mallet on drums, Dave Tregunna, he’s bass player on it, Scott Mulvey of the Dirtys is playing piano, and I’m playing acoustic on it, and then we’ve got guest guitarists and a guest saxophone player as well.

Are the Dirtys going to play in other countries, or you’re more London-based?
Oh listen, we wanna play everywhere! We have played in Europe. We’re at a new stage with Danny now. We really needed someone to be a bit more at ground level managing us, and Paul my son is doing all that.

He’s very enthusiastic.
Alan: Yes he is, he is his father’s son. So yeah, we want to play everywhere.

As a musician, is there anybody in special you would have liked to play or record with?
He really wanted to play with me.
Alan: My dreams are true now, my dreams have come true! I tell you, if it wasn’t Danny (laughs) it would be someone like Otis Redding, he’s my favourite singer of all time. Yes, my favourite singer, end of story.

Oh you’re a soul man.
Alan: Yeah, but my daddy was a teddy boy, so I’d come out this weird mixture.

It’s all the same, it’s all great music, whether it’s soul, rock’n’roll, rhythm and blues. And then all those black guys!
Alan: They can’t speak like me, but I can speak like them! Hahaha!
Danny: They feel it from the heart, I mean, they’ve got that feel. And Alan’s got such a great voice on top of that.
Alan: Thank you! We should stop on a high now… (laughs)


The article´s author along  Clayton and Fury: The Dirty Three

Just like you said, it’s mostly about going back to the past, that’s when the greatest music was done. Just yesterday I was playing my all-time favourite live album, ‘Jerry Lee Lewis at the Star Club’ in 1964, which is like the wildest album ever. Now that’s real heavy metal. Someone even referred to it saying “it’s not an album, it’s a crime scene”
Alan:  Yeah! I’ll tell you a funny story that Ronnie told me, when he was on tour with Jerry Lee, he’d done a tour with him.  They were both walking through the hotel lobby, and this woman came up and she threw her arms around Jerry Lee, and she went “Jerry Lee, you smell lovely, what you got on?” And he said “I’ve got a hard-on, honey. I didn’t know you could smell it from there!”
That’s awesome!
Alan: That’s a great one, isn’t it?

I love those stories! Any other stories you want to tell me?
Do you want to know how “She’s a Real Boticelli” got written?

21..I’d love to. So when somebody’s a real Boticelli?
Alan: Well, I’ll tell you what it was, right? I was down at Redlands, and me and Keith were in the kitchen, cooking. I was peeling potatoes and Keith is preparing the meat. In England when you grow up there’s a set of books called “Just William” And the character is a boy about 13, lives in the country, he’s got parents and he’s got a sister, and he’s always having adventures. And everybody who’s English would know about these books. I’m sure every country’s got its own books, but it’s a boy, and he’s in a gang called The Outlaws who have a rival gang. There are all these strange characters who pass through his village. Musicians, tramps, fairground people…And they’re written by a woman. And all my life I was growing up thinking it was a bloke, and it’s a woman, Richmal Compton. So this woman has written all these fantastic boy’s adventures from the perspective of a boy. So we found out that me and Keith liked them, we found out a mutual love when we were growing up. And when the Stones’ office found out our love for the books they sent the books in CD form, so we used to listen to them while we were cooking. And one of them starts “she’s a real Boticelli!”, and actually someone says she’s got a real bottle of cherry, and we misunderstood that, right? I looked to Keith and he said “that’s a fuckin’ Chuck Berry title, isn’t it?” So it’s all from when we were cooking, from his CD, from his book. So we just nicked the first line out, and wrote the whole song “She’s a Real Boticelli”

Great story, and also coming from Redlands, just like “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and the gardener story. Oh you know that…

All right, you know we could be talking for hours, but I think it´s time to leave, you’ve got to do a show, so let´s go there! Thanks so much!
Danny: Let´s go!
Alan: Oh thanks so much to you! And don´t forget your bag!





Publicado en Evaristo Cultural el 14 de abril de 2016

“¿Qué, ya terminó?” Casi al unísono, los que terminábamos de ver aquel concierto majestuoso de Prince esa noche del 21 de enero de 1991 coincidimos en un clamor generalizado que quedaba huérfano de respuestas. Bastaba con echar un vistazo alrededor y descubrir la misma mirada de desconcierto instantáneo entre los algo más de 25.000 asistentes al show, un número por demás bajo, teniendo en cuenta que nos encontrábamos en el estadio de River Plate. “¿Cómo, no va a volver”? Estaba claro. Acabábamos de presenciar en vivo y en directo uno de los mejores performances de la historia por estos lares, y la hora y cuarto por la cual se extendió nos dejó insatisfechos, y donde no faltaron los abucheos del público pidiendo por más. Y por más todavía. Prince había desembarcado en Buenos Aires junto a la New Power Generation (su banda de acompañamiento de aquel momento, el proyecto de ocho integrantes con quienes grabaría el excelente disco Diamonds and Pearls algo más tarde ese mismo año) tras participar de la segunda edición del Festival Rock In Rio de la ciudad carioca, y ahora formar parte de la grilla de otro festival, el de Rock and Pop local junto a Joe Cocker, Billy Idol, INXS y Robert Plant. Aquí lo esperaba una base acotada de fans, pero fiel, que venía soñando con su llegada al país desde hacía al menos siete años, cuando su popularidad autóctona se estableció de la mano de la banda de sonido de la película Purple Rain de 1984 (la misma que le valió un Oscar y ventas de casi 25 millones de copias alrededor del planeta), y cuya canción principal del mismo nombre no dejó de sonar en las radios locales desde entonces, hasta convertirse en un clásico eterno. El mismo grupo de acólitos al que no le quedaban dudas que el éxito de Phil Collins Sussudio de 1985 era un afano directo a la canción 1999 que el “genio de Minneapolis” había plasmado en 1984, una devoción que más tarde se vería alimentada por la gran difusión que obtuvo la versión de Nothing Compares 2 U que Sinead O’Connor había grabado en 1990 (y que Prince no dudó en incluir en el repertorio que usó en Buenos Aires), o una aún mayor, aquella irresistible de Kiss que Tom Jones registró en 1989. De algún modo ya se había ganado la medalla que lo condecoraba al título, prolíficamente hablando, del mayor músico del pop de la década del ’80. Una carrera que se propagaría por cuatro décadas, y basada en un individualismo absoluto. Hermético hasta el nirvana, supo potenciar esa condición para generar deliberadamente todos los enigmas posibles respecto a su existencia, presentándose ante el mundo como una andrógina criatura sexual, lo que le permitió llamar aún más la atención de forma completamente preconcebida. La vida de Prince resultaba todo un misterio, su plan resultaba exitoso, y todo el mundo se desvelaba por revelar los acontecimientos detrás de la vida del nuevo ícono mimado del espectáculo mundial. Ya desde su álbum debut en 1978 (de la misma forma que los Rolling Stones lo hicieron con el blues en los ‘60s) Prince resultó ser el elegido a la hora de llevar adelante una misión divina, la de revitalizar (y redefinir) todo género musical negroide posible, dándole una inyección de vida y glamoural más puro funk, R&B y soul (géneros por los que, cualquier aclaración estaría de más, se desvivía), sin dejar de ahondar en el pop y el rock. Esa androginia erótica y sensual estuvo estampada en sus letras y las tapas de sus discos desde el vamos, lo que lo llevaron a lidiar con la controversia (otra movida calculada y deliberada), aguas en las que supo nadar y brillar, edificando un imperio propio desde sus multifacéticos roles de compositor, productor y artista, rechazando entrevistas a diestra y siniestra, y más perfeccionada aún desde que eligió convertirse en el iconoclasta perfecto cuando, en señal de protesta contra una industria musical que no lo favorecía sus contratos, decidió cambiar su nombre artístico por el de un símbolo gráficamente irreproducible. Ni siquiera otros íconos de los ‘80s como Michael Jackson o Madonna, que a diferencia de Prince no contaban con un sonido propio, lograron tener semejante influencia en la música de esa década, acompañado de una imagen que no se quedaba nada atrás. Por si acaso su faceta musical le resultaba corta, también había descollado en la pantalla grande, agregando un capítulo el pasado mes de marzo al anunciar la edición de de The Beautiful Ones (“Los Bellos”), un libro de memorias montado sobre “una travesía poética y poco convencional sobre su vida y su carrera, sobre su familia y la gente, los lugares e ideas que encendieron su imaginación creativa”, y planeado para lanzarse el año próximo a cambio de una oferta de dinero que, según palabras del mismísimo Prince, “no pude resistir” “Este va a ser mi primer libro. Mi hermano Dan me está ayudando a escribirlo. Es un buen crítico, y es lo que necesito. No es del tipo de personas que le dice ‘sí’ a todo, y realmente me está dando una mano para hacerlo. Va a comenzar con mis primeros recuerdos, y espero lleguemos hasta el día del Super Bowl” (la tradicional final del campeonato de la National Football League de USA que cerró en el 2007) considerada por muchos, público y críticos, como la mejor actuación de la historia.
El viernes pasado, tras una actuación en Atlanta, el avión privado que lo trasladaba se vio obligado a realizar un aterrizaje de emergencia en la ciudad de Moline, Illinois, situación a la que su manager se refirió explicando que estaba experimentando alguna enfermedad. Tras ser dado de alta algunas horas más tarde, retornó a su legendaria propiedad de Paisley Park, en su estado de Minnesota, donde en la jornada de ayer fue hallado muerto dentro de un ascensor. Si bien las causas que originaron su deceso aún no fueron establecidas, algunas versiones señalan que durante su paso por la clínica en Moline debió ser tratado para hacerle frente a los efectos de los opiáceos.
Con la desaparición física de Prince, con sólo 57 temporadas a cuestas, y en un año por demás triste que en su corto trayecto ya ha dejado un tendal de pérdidas significativas en la escena de la música mundial, el más grande catalizador de la música negra de al menos las tres últimas décadas, el geniecillo en plataformas, pudo habernos dejado con ganas de más aquella noche estival de Buenos Aires del ’91, pero su legado en vida, haciendo gala de su tan mentada controversia artística, permanecerá indesafiable, ahora que el título se quedó sin posibles contendientes.



Publicado en Evaristo Cultural el 1 de mayo de 2015

De manera sorpresiva, como generalmente suelen suceder estas cosas, y en un plazo de apenas algo más de quince días, la historia del Soul y el R&B más tradicional perdió a dos de sus figuras más representativas. Con la muerte de Percy Sledge a mediados de marzo, y la muy reciente partida de Ben E. King en el día de ayer, respectivamente los autores e intérpretes originales de When A Man Loves A Woman y Stand By Me, de los más grandes “clásicos de clásicos” cierta vez registrados, la música popular del último siglo despide, al menos físicamente, a dos de las voces más elegantes que se puedan recordar.
Fallecido el pasado 14 de abril, Percy Tyrone Sledge (que gracias a su estilo azucarado se ganó el apodo de “Rey del Soul Lento”) había nacido en la ciudad de Leighton, Alabama en 1940, en el el seno de una familia de granjeros de bajos recursos – situación que tradicionalmente no se diferenciaba de la de la mayoría de las familias negras del sur de los Estados Unidos de aquella época – donde alternaba su trabajo rural diurno con presentaciones nocturnas en diversas fiestas locales y bailes adolescentes de la región como miembro de los Esquires Combo, grupo al que se había unido en aquel momento tras no poder rechazar una irresistible oferta de 50 dólares para unirse a la banda, y cuyo repertorio incluía canciones de Wilson Pickett, Sam Cooke, Smokey Robinson (prácticamente, el catálogo completo de la compañía Motown) y hasta de James Brown y Elvis Presley, que los Esquires Combo presentaban en los clubes del sudeste del país. Pero fue entonces que un tal Quin Ivy, dueño de una disquería y asimismo productor radicado en Sheffield, ciudad localizada en el estado natal de Sledge, quien le ofreció su primer contrato discográfico. Así las cosas, las circunstancias obligaron a Sledge a dejar al grupo atrás y entonces comenzar a registrar una serie de canciones de soul para su nueva aventura en solitario, de las cuales When A Man Loves A Woman (originalmente planeada para los Esquires Combo y escrita por los miembros del grupo Calvin Lewis y Andrew Wright bajo el título de Why Did You Leave Me) sería la primera en editarse. Grabada en los famosos estudios Muscle Shoals de Alabama, ‘When A Man Loves A Woman’ no sólo se convertiría en la canción más característica de la carrera de Percy Sledge y en su éxito más rutilante, sino también en uno de los más destacados de la música popular contemporánea, un disparador directo al estrellato que originó ventas que superaron el millón de copias vendidas, adicionalmente convirtiéndola en el primer hit del soul sureño en lograr encabezar los rankings de ambos R&B y Pop de los Estados Unidos de la historia, y asimismo valiéndole el primer disco de oro a la discogáfica Atlantic. Dos décadas más tarde, en 1987 el suceso descomunal de la canción lograría un revival colosal al formar parte de la banda de sonido del film Platoon, para terminar siendo considerada “uno de los mejores 100 singles de los últimos 25 años” por la revista Rolling Stone el siguiente año. Curiosamente, tras no haber sido considerado co-autor de la canción desde el principio, Sledge jamás recibiría ningún tipo de royalties. “Fue la peor decisión que tomé en mi vida, pero no siento ninguna tristeza”, declararía al respecto.
Sledge volvería a plasmar una nueva serie de hits en años venideros como Warm and Tender y It Tears Me Up (en 1966), Out of Left Field (1967) y Take Time to Know Her (de 1968) que, si bien lejos del resultado logrado por ‘When A Man Loves A Woman’, le harían obtener certificaciones de cinco discos de oro, y dos de platino. La carrera de “El Rey del Soul Lento” continuó con altibajos hasta el año 1984, cuando editó un álbum regreso titulado ‘Blue Night’ a través de un sello discográfico francés. Tras su premiación de manos del Rock and Roll Hall of Fame en 2005, Sledge lanzaría su último trabajo en estudio, The Gospel of Percy Sledge, en 2013, falleciendo de cáncer de hígado tras una larga batalla en su casa en Baton Rouge, Louisiana, a los 74 años edad en abril del mes pasado.

Apenas dos semanas después de la partida de Sledge, la escena del Soul vuelve a sacudirse con la muerte del gran Ben E. King., más coloquialmente recordado como el autor e intérprete de Stand By Me, aquella sempiterna candidata por excelencia al Top 5 desde su aparición inicial en 1962. Nacido Benjamin Earl King en Henderson (estado de Carolina del Norte) en 1938, King emprendió su trayectoria artística en la década del ’50 como miembro de los legendarios The Drifters (originalmente The Five Crowns), grupo vocal de doo-wop y R&B que cosechó sendos éxitos de la mano de canciones como Under the Boardwalk, Save the Last Dance for Me, Some Kind of Wonderful y There Goes My Baby, entre otras. Y aunque su primer hit fuera el recordado Spanish Harlem de 1961 (que incluyó en su autoría al controvertido Phil Spector), fue con ‘Stand By Me’ (inspirada en un viejo spiritual titulado ‘Lord Stand By Me’, originalmente planeada para ser grabada con los Drifters, quienes erróneamente la rechazaron), que King prestó atención a la recomendación de Ahmet Ertegun, por aquel entonces cabeza de la Atlantic Records, de volver a trabajar sobre ella junto a Jerry Leiber y Mike Stoller, la célebre dupla de compositores y productores, auténtica máquina de éxitos, que recordadamente para entonces ya habían pergeñado obras definitivas como las eternas Hound Dog, Love Me, Kansas City, Jailhouse Rock, Love Potion No.9, King Creole o Poison Ivy, por sólo nombrar algunas de ellas) De esa forma King y ‘Stand By Me’ dominarían los charts de los EE.UU. a través de 1961, para instantáneamente transformarse en suceso inmortal hasta el día del Juicio Final. ‘Stand By Me’ también conquistaría una inconmensurable repercusión a través de los años con las casi 400 versiones de la canción grabadas por una interminable lista de artistas de géneros diversos (que incluso incluyeron a Muhammad Ali), más principalmente con la que con John Lennon plasmó para su álbum ‘Rock’n’Roll’ en 1975, y que el ex-Beatle utilizó para promocionar el disco, para terminar convirtiéndose en la cuarta canción más transmitida de la historia en las emisoras de radio y TV de los Estados Unidos, y ganándose el rótulo de clásico de clásicos. Si bien la carrera de King, al igual que la de muchos de sus colegas, se vería eclipsada por el arribo a los EE.UU.de la British Invasion promediando la década del ’60, King volvería a dominar los charts en 1975 (eventualmente logrando menor repercusión) con Supernatural Thing (canción que contaba con la participación de Carlos Alomar, por aquellos años guitarrista de David Bowie), encandilando nuevamente a Ertegun, que no titubeó a la hora de volver a contratarlo para la Atlantic Records.

King continuaría de gira durante casi toda su carrera, sin ir más lejos llegando a realizar una serie de fechas en Inglaterra en 2013, para perecer por causas naturales este último 30 de abril en la ciudad de Teaneck, estado de New Jersey, a los 76 años de edad, apenas dos semanas más tarde que su colega Percy Sledge, para juntos arrojarse a esa infranqueable inmortalidad artística que dos muy buenas canciones nunca podrán dejar de sostener.