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Joe Cocker !
John Robert Cocker, born 20th Hay, 1944, destined to become one of our finest singers and one of the most tragic figures the-harsh world of rock has produced. To most people, Joe Cocker probably represents a handful of hit singles, gravel voice and bizarre onstage mannerisms but that's just the tip of the iceberg. Joe's beginnings in rock go back ten years to his home town of Sheffield. I'm sure everybody's heard the one about Joe being the amiable gas-fitter who used to wander around with his bag of tools on his shoulder, whistling and singing to himself all the while. Joe's first big influences were Ray Charles of course, Little Richard and Gene Vincent altho' with the advent of the London REB boom, Muddy Waters and Chuck Berry were soon added to the list. Everybody plays up to Ray Charles influence when referring to Joe, who has this to say about Charles, "One day, over the radio, I heard 'What'd I Say'. It just knocked me out - the piano cryin' out, his voice, everything. So I rushed out and finally found a copy of his 'Yes Indeed' album. Every track just amazed me and soon I became a complete Ray Charles fanatic." Cocker had formed a group called the Cavaliers and they palyed a motley assortment of Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly and Muddy Waters tunes, altho' it must be stressed, more for fun than profit. The next Cocker band was a more promising venture, Vance Arnold & The Avengers, with Joe taking the part of Vance. They managed to get a few pub gigs which kept the wolf from the door and was invaluable experience, also they got the chance of the odd gig at two of Sheffield's 'beat' clubs, the Esquire and the Club 60 (where Dave Berry, Sheffield's other claim to rock fame used to appear quite often. See Let It Rock 4 for a good, account of those days.) The Avengers must have been quite a fair band, allowing even for the fact that record contracts were being scattered like confetti in an attempt to find another Beatles or Stones, because a talent scout (sounds a quaint phrase now, eh ?) from Decca heard them and reported back to his superiors that a fabulous new singer was just waiting to be signed up. With the offer of a Decca contract in his hand, Joe pondered his future. He didn't feel ready to go full-time but his bosses at the Midlands Gas Board gave him a six-month leave of absence to see if it worked out. Joe was soon whisked down to London and put under the protective wing of Decca staff producer, Mike Leander (yes, he of Gary Glitter fame) who had Joe record a version of the Beatles "I'll Cry Instead" and a version of the Wallace Brothers R & B hit, "Precious Words" (released in 1964 on Decca F.ll974). The original single, both showing the Ray Charles influence, is much sought after by collectors, although the appearance of "I'll Cry Instead" on Decca's recent 'Hard up Heroes' set has somewhat devalued it. A much better idea would have been, I think, to have gotten a hold of the only (?) other track Joe cut at that session, a version of Ray's "Georgia On My Mind" complete with orchestra, choir thelot. Joe regards it as Mike Leander's personal ego-trip (obviously even then, Leander was looking for the big pay-off) which was originally scheduled to follow, "I'll Cry Instead", but due to Decca's weird selection policy, it was shelved even tho' it had cost a mint in session fees and production costs. So if there's ever a 'Hard up Heroes' ; vol 2 on the go, I'd like to see "Georgia" on it. Well, to consolidate Joe's recording debut he was fitted onto the bills of a couple of package tours including being on a Stones & Hollies one and a Manfred.Mann one. In all fairness, with the audience all baying and screaming for the head-liners, nobody payed any attention to the three-numbers-then-off opening acts. So Joe's first brief brush with stardom had been rather anti-climatic and it was back to the drawing board (and, the Gas Board). The record had sold about 100 copies only, but at least it was a start however small.
Undaunted by his failure to become a pop star, Joe formed a new band called Joe Cocker's Big Blues, which was in fact a Tamla Motown influenced soul band. Changing times had seen the end of rock 'n' roll and R & B as the moving forces in the clubs. Stax and Tamla were the 'in' labels and it was very much an adapt-or-die scene in those days. If nothing else, even in those early days, Joe Cocker was paying his dues in full. The Big Blues landed a fairly lucrative contract playing to mainly black audiences at US Air Force bases in France. Back in England, thay did manage to break out of Sheffield and got as far North as Manchester. It was around this time that the Cocker/Chris Stainton partnership was begun and it also saw the birth of a famous name, the first Grease Band. Stainton was also from Sheffield and like Cocker had come up the hard way via a series of local bands albeit more sophisticated, including one called Johnny Tempest & The Cadillacs which feat ured matching red suits, doing Cliff and Shadows numbers, right down to the choreography ! Although there was a change of name there was no real change in musical policy and as soul music fell into its hackneyed, "have mercy, Y'all, sock it to me" bag, Joe became a bit brought down and disillusioned and the band folded. After almost a year spent pondering his future and eventually decided to carry on much as before, following every new trend and jumping on every bandwagon. Remember, Sheffield had no booming R&B-type scene like London did with the Crawdaddy/ Eel Pie Island/Klooks Kleek/the Marquee and dozens more and consequently there was no outlet for music other than pubs and discos. Things might have gone like this for ever had it not been for a DJ in a Chesterfield club called Dave McPhee, an old friend of Cocker's. Cocker and Stainton had recorded a home demo of a song called 'Marjorine' and McPhee in true story-book fashion passed the tape onto impresario and studio boss, Tony Hall. Hall in turn, passed the tape onto fellow producer Denny Cordell and for the relatively simple task of passing on a tape, Hall earned himself 1% of Cocker for life. The original demo is of legend status now and Tony Visconti, who worked for Cordell at the time, had `this to say to Sounds, "I was there when the demo came in, Joe Cocker discovered himself really because when we heard it we couldn't believe our ears. In fact that demo was never duplicated - it should have been released as it stood." For the second time in his career Joe was to travel down to London to record. This time he was accompanied by Chris Stainton but without the rest of the Grease Band who preferred to safety and security to full time day jobs in Sheffield. I assume they were the Tom Rattigan and Frank Myles who are credited with Joe and Chris on the authors of 'Marjorine'. Despite being impressed enough by the demo to travel up to Sheffield to check them out, it was a different story in London. Cordell was busy with the Move and Procol and Tony Visconti was producing Manfred Mann and nobody really had the time to handle the Grease Band. Chris Stainton did the arrangement and played bass and piano with Clem Cattini on drums and Jimmy Page and Ebert Lee on guitars. Despite the line-up and a good radio and disco play, 'Marjorine’ was destined to become forgotten classic. The B-side, 'New Age Of The Lily' is alternately a Beatle rip-off and a flower power hype but the beginnings of that unique vocal style are there. On the strength of the single, Cocker began to get a few gigs around London, including the Marquee and that was most peop1e's introduction to Joe's stage Bot. Apart from the grittiest, soul-filled and emotive voice to come out of Britain in a long time, Cooker was also noted for his flailing, windmill-like mannerisms and his imaginary guitar playing, alternating between the absurd, graceless, like spastic-like twitching which Dave Marsh described in Creem as "... a raving bundle of flying hair and meat. Undeniably spastic, he twitches and strums his pseudo guitar fantasizing God knows what, turning unexpected songs into cathartic mini-pyschodramas." Later, all Joe could offer by way of explanation was, "I've always done me theatrical bit of throwing me arms about onstage… But you know, it's not contrived - why would anyone contrive a stage routine that turns so many people off." A second Grease Band had been formed and it included Kenny Slade on drums and Tommy Eyre (later of Aynsley Dunbar and Mark Almond). This was the band that was to record the follow-up to 'Marjorine', a record that would break Cocker in every record market in the world. What we are talking about is, of course, Joe's version of 'With A Little Help From My Friends'. It is so radically different from the Beatles version that it had to succeed. A gentle, building organ intro leads to astinging Jimmy Page guitar break then dies to let Joe come in then it builds to a fantastic crescendo of Joe's voice, answering the vocal chorus and Jimmy's guitar again. After an initial launching on the Simon Dee Show it quickly became a number 1 record here and worldwide. It also introduced the patented Joe Cocker scream which he admits, 'I didn't really know what I'd started when I did that'. The success of which took everybody by surprise and an album and a US tour were called for. But first, Joe had band problems ; Kenny Slade and Tommy Eyre were not working out at all. They were fine musicians, but too jazz-influenced to make it as rockers. So the split came and the definitive Grease Band was formed with Henry McCullough on guitar (from the Hendrix proteges, Eire Apparent) and Alan Spanner on bass and Bruce Rowlands on drums (both of whom had recently departed Wynder K. Frogg when Mick Weaver split to join Mason, Capaldi, Wood & Frogg - see Traffic article).
With the success of the single, work had been going on on the album for almost a year before it was released. Denny's attitude to Cocker, now with a number 1 record behind him, changed and he devoted a lot of time tomake sure the album was a winner. There are 29 musicians involved in the album and it stems from Denny's desire to make every track as good as possible, hence various combinations of musicians are used, many of the takes not being used, despite apparently great sessions by Al Kooper, Aynsley Dunbar etc., Amongst the names here are Jimmy Page, David Cohen, Albert Lee, Carole Kaye (the Motown lady bassist), Mike Kellie, BJ Wilson, Matthew Fisher and Stevie Winwood in some terrific line-ups. Apart from the singles, "Marjorine" and "Friends", there are eight other songs, two really promising Cocker/Stainton songs - "Change In Louise" and ("Sandpaper Cadillac" and the rest of the album being good solid contemporary material of the day. Dave Mason's "Feeling Alright", Dylan's "Just Like A Woman" and "I Shall Be Released" (both incredible versions), Pete Dello's (of Honeybus : strange band indeed - commercial success on one hand and yet also able to do a fine brace of 'Top Gears') "Do I Still Figure In Your Life" and a near-to-the-Animals version of "Don't Let me Be Misunderstood". Lastly, and probably as a sop to the Ray Charles sound, a dazzling version of "Bye Bye Blackbird" (yes ! the same one), complete with fine Jimmy Page guitar. Throughout the album there is a whole lot of tasteful playing, none of your typical all-star flops that usually emanate from sessions likethis. Jimmy Page in particular is really in great form and so is Stevie Winwood, who wanted to do all the sessions on the second album, but due to Blind Faith's tour, he had to cancel out. Matthew Fisher also chips in some lovely, ethereal, Procol-like organ layers, but lets not underestimate Chris Stainton's keyboard work - he is, I assume, the uncredited pianist on "Do I Still Figure In Your Life." A fabulous debut album then, with Cocker in really great form and everyone playing their parts well and backing him to the hilt. All that was needed now was for it to sell, something it did not do at all well in Britain. Cocker reckons that the heads weren't too keen on his gas-fitter background, it smelled of hype. More's the pity for them and Cocker and they all missed out on a great experience. So with sales of around 6ooo or so over here, Cooker took off for America, where he couldn't do a wrong move. The album was a smash and sold 200,000 copies straight off. Also, a torrid performance at the Woodstock festival inscribed him in the memories of all who saw him. Soon too, would begin the chain of events that would build Cocker-mania to unprecedented heights in America; the arrival of Leon Russell. During the tour, a copy of "The Original Delaney & Bonnie" album arrived at Cocker's hotel and, like most others at the time, Cocker was absolutely knocked out by it, especially the piano player: Leon Russell, long time session man (Glen Campbell, the Byrds, Dorsey Burnette and even Sinatra) and opportunist (witness his manipulation of Gary Lewis, the Knickerbockers etc.) who was keen to break into the rock sector (the whole Leon Russell/Delaney & Bonnie story is gradually being assembled for you, but as my regard for them wanes daily, I'm not sure what form it will take yet. Watch out though). Also, Denny Cordell was at this time, early 1970, in the process of forming Shelter Records in partnership with Russell so that too, would have a profound effect on Joe's future. Very quickly thereafter, Cocker and
Russell met up at Russell's labour of love, his in-home studio, Skyhill,
built by thesweat•and labour of a thousand sessions. Cocker
liked what he heard and a quick working partnership was soon struck
up. The first fruits of which was Cooker's recording of two Russell
songs, one of which, "Delta Lady" was released in October
1969 (almost exactly a year after "With A Little Help From my
Friends". "Delta Lady" is now typical Leon Russell-type
tune, great piano riff, backing singers well in evidence and a great
'Swamp rock' feel. Considering the long gap between the release of
the two, "Delta Lady" did very well to reach the top ten
here, which shows that Cocker was not the gimmicky, one-hit wonder
he was still regarded as in England. A second US tour was quickly
set up as it became obvious that this was definitely the place for
Cocker to concentrate on. A second album was to be recorded as-well,
and in contrast to the first, was much more 'American' in concept
and feel. Gone were the cream of British session talent and in their
place came their US counterparts including Russell on piano, Milt
Holland on drums, Sneaky Pete and Clarence White on guitars and the
quickly becoming essential backup vocals of Merry Clayton, Rita Coolidge,
Bonnie Bramlett and Shirley Matthews. As far as selection of material
goes, "Joe
Again, like its predecessor, "Joe Cocker !" was a huge Stateside smash and a British failure. It sold even less than "Friends" in England, despite being a gold record in America, in fact it seemed to spend the major part of 1970 high in the US charts. The second tour was a mammoth three month slog round the States and when it finished, Joe arrived at Denny Cordell's LA residence looking forward to a good, long rest. This was not to be the case l because twenty four hours later Dee Anthony of Bandana Management (in his pre-Humble Pie management days) let it be known that he had arranged another two month tour to begin the following week in Detroit. This came as a complete shock to Cocker, who had just disbanded the Grease Band and had sent them back to England and had no intentions of going through with another marathon tour so soon after finishing one. However, Anthony had Cooker's signature some time previously on a contract to do the tour and that complicated things. Failure to do the tour would involve a lot of future hassles with promoters, the Musicians Union and even the immigration authorities who could bar any future entry into the States. With all this legalised blackmail against him Cocker had to say yes. With no band, and only a week to find one, he turned in desperation to Leon Russell who promptly set things in motion for the most traumatic stage of Cooker's career. Russell went to work right away and very quickly recruited drummers Jim Keltner and Chuch Blackwell. Now Carl Radle had just quit Delaney & Bonnie and joined up with Cocker, in the process telling Russell that quite a few of D&B's band were on the verge of quitting so another chance phone call fixed up Jim Price, Jim Gordon and Bobby Keys (familiar names now, but in 1970 they were just setting out on their supersessionmen road to fame, the Stones and the Cominoes would come later). This little incident upset the Bramlett's quite a lot and they accused Russell and Cocker of 'pirating' their band although they calmed down later. Percussionists and back up singers were no problem and soon twenty or so souls were rehearsing like mad at A&M's Hollywood film lot and things were at such an advanced state that the fourth days rehearsals resulted in Joe's next single, the Box Tops old class "The Letter" b/w "Space Captain" (by recently recruited Matthew Moore). Again, the single had moderate British success compared to it American dimensions. To fly this motley bunch around the States, by now dubbed "Mad Dogs and Englishmen", an ancient Martin 202 twin-prop was hired but the addition of wives, lovers, children, secretaries and a five man film crew necessitated the hire of a larger (altho' equally ancient) Lockheed 'Super Constellation' four-prop. The fifty-two dates were recorded and filmed for posterity and resulted in a double album and film both entitled "Mad Dogs and Englishmen". It is at this point, with the benefit of hindsight, that you realise that Joe was being taken for a big con by Russell et al. 0n record it sounds like back slapping bonhomie, down home good fun, with ol' Joe, good ol' Joe holding it all together. However the film is a different kettle of fish - Russell hustling like crazy to get Joe into a Shelter T-Shirt ; Russell with his garish clothes trying to steal the limelight for himself and Shelter, Joe on the plane, completely ignored by even the backing singers and who, fochristsakes are they to ignore anybody ? A massive flying clique to whom Cocker was an outsider and merely the excuse for this never ending party. In the hotel kitchen, a tour aide ordering food and wine tho' it was going out of fashion and all on Cocker's tab. Didja know that for 52 gigs in 59 days Cocker made a personal profit of less than a thousand dollars. OK, so maybe it was on Joe's tab but some of those cats just used him. Tell ya what... look at the credits to that album and tell me a singer or musician who hasn't bettered himself since then....Russell, Don Preston, Carl Radle, Jim Gordon, Jim Keltner, Jim Price, Bobby Keys, Rita Coolidge, Claudia Lennear, Donna Weiss, Pamela Polland, Donna Washburn, Nicky Barclay and Bobby Jones. Every manjack of 'em. If it wasn’t so criminally sad, it'd be laughable, 0K then, I've said my say. Everybody agrees now on what happened right, Joe was an honest trusting bloke who was shafted by manager, musician and promoter alike that no wonder he took solace in drink and drugs, again probably with somebody‘s encouragement. But wait, we’re jumping things : the record came long before the film and I still accepted Russell then. The album then, firstly, it was Joe's only chart album in Britain, probably more to do with being at a budget price and with the Russell cult thing which was in full bloom then. Like all live albums it is a mixture of the very good and quite dull. What blows it is a long, long ultra-slow and ultimately boring Blue Medley of 'Drown In My Own Tears', 'When Something Is Wrong With My Baby' and Otis's "I’ve Been Loving You Too Long" - far better to have interspersed them throughout the album than run 'em together. That said, immediately after it comes a very short, quickly improvised, Cocker/Russell duet of "Girl From The North Country", a quick nod to Dylan who had come to check out Joe. Good versions of 'Super-star' and 'Let's Go Get Stoned' are out with fair versions of 'Cry Me A River', 'Bird On A Wire' a woeful 'Honky Tonk Women' and Delaney Bramlett/Leon's stomping "Give Peace A Chance". Side Four sees a big finale with great versions of "Bathroom Window", a really atmospheric "Space Captain" (which cuts the vapid B-side of 'The Letter') and a rockin' Delta Lady'. So there, a worthwhile album, recorded at the peak of Joe's career and most of which follows is a sad slide into near-obscurity and despair. The odd selection of 'Cry Me A River'/'Give Peace A Chance' was culled as a single here but bombed. Russell apparently liked the old Julie London 'torch' ballad and this is his idea of it in a gospel setting. Didn't work mate. The tour ended in San Bernadino (where John Peel did his DJ bit - in Riverside, San Bernadino. There is also amaniac Hells Angel biker called GanBerdoo Der tie - no relation tho'.) and everybody went their separate ways to fame and fortune. Chris and Joe retired to LA to recover and entered a period of virtual seclusion that would last a good eighteen months. Joe was obviously spent by his efforts of the past year and this allied to the daunting task of ever topping the 'Mad Dogs' gig took their toll. He was in pretty bad shape when he and Chris flew to Muscle Shoals that December and out an abortive five tracks - Joe's voice not being up to it and over abused with drink, drug and tobacco. However, Fly managed to get a hold of the tapes and released "High Time We Went"/"Black`Eyed Blues"; substandard ard versions of good songs. Joe refused to have anything to do with the single and it thankfully died a death. Something was needed and the 'Cocker Happy' album was dreamed up - a sorta greatest hits album which is dispensible unless you want LP versions of 'The Letter' and two non-album B-sides, the excellent 'She's So Good To Me' and 'Something's Coming On'. All things considered, quite a fair compilation but it was released at a time when Cocker was a forgotten man in Britain and quickly faded. Cocker and Stainton returned to the UK in January 1971 and Joe retreated to a hermit-like existence in Sheffield before embarking on a land-rover tour of the country, completely unrecognised. The Grease Band had split up when they came back to Britain and.McCullough, Spenner and Rowland joined up with the remnants of Spookie Tooth a venture which quickly fizzled out. Bruce Rowland landed a good gig touring the US with Terry Reid then he and Alan Spenner formed the rhythm section on the original 'Jesus Christ Superstar' album. Once these avenues of income dried up, the lads reformed the Grease Band with those three and Nell Hubbard, late of Jucy Luicy amongst others. A fairly good album (SHVL 790) was recorded for Harvest and a second was at the mixing stage when Henry McCullough split to join Wings and that was the end of the Grease Band for a while again. 1971 drew to a close and not a word from Joe although he was spotted in the crowd at a Grease Band gig and, surprise, surprise appeared onstage and sang two numbers with Rita Coolidge at Sheffield on the tour here. Apart from the odd rumour to the effect that he was recording an album with Ringo and others at Island studios there was no word from Cocker as we being 1972. Then things begin to happen - in January, Chris Stainton had flown to Connecticut to rehearse a new band who were almost ready to go out on the road but were looking for a really good vocalist. The band included Stainton, Reg Isadore, Alan Spenner, Neil Hubbard and Glen Campbell. Then, lo and behold, it was announced that Joe was flying out to join them. Maybe things were looking up after all, A&M in America issues "Feeling Alr1ght"/"Sandpaper Cad1llac" to celebrate Joe's return and it too followed "High Time We Went" up the charts. Definitely gone but not forgotten in the Americas. It transpires that Joe had been lying low all the while to try and free himself from the clutches of Dee Anthony, whom he now mistrusted after the Mad Dogs showdown. Nigel Thomas, allegedly a front man for Denny Cordell had bought Joe's contract from Anthony for same fantastic sum (£250,000) and this being done, Joe was free to go out on the road again. A fantastic version of this story is told in Rolling Stone 109 and ZigZag 26. Anyway, the tour BEGAN at Madison Square Garden and things had all the hallmarks of impending disaster - a horn section was added two days before the tour began. Also, Joe was patently unready for the stage, overweight, unsure of voice, a little wasted and a more cynical and bitter man. Well, the tour sorta bombed, sure they went through all the motions but the press slammed them although the fans still turned out. Gradually tho' things got better – Jim Keltner came in on drums, a new horn section-was found, Joe perked up and began to look a bit healthier and there things had looked d1sastera~v1lle at Madison Square, they looked just fine at two packed houses at the LA Forum. The tour qu1ckly•developed in a marathon round the world event and Cocker arrived back in the UK for appearances at the Lincoln Festival and at the Crystal Palace Bowl with the Beach Boys, both concerts were fairly poor Cocker performances and allied with the poor early reviews of the US tour, everybody was prepared to write off Cocker. A single was released to preview the upcoming album and an amaz1ng•m1x¤up ensued, in their infinite wisdom Cube (Fly’s new name) issued "Woman To Woman", a good, though not a singles choice, song backed with Greg Allman's "Midnight Rider". After a few sporadic airplays, it was decided to flip the record and made "Midnight Rider" the top side. It was too late though, Cocker had been and gone and the chance was lost. Disaster tends to follow disaster and the Cocker entourage was busted not once but twice in Australia on the final leg of the tour (where Cooker is apparently huge) first for possessing dope and also conga player Felix Falcon was caught in possession of heroin and needles. Now I don't know what the fascination is with Felix Falcon, I mean, he's just a conga player, ten-a-penny, you would think but he's been in Crabby Appleton, Dave Mason's band and Cocker's. Somebody said maybe he was fixing somebody in the group which may be harsh on Falcon but it's logical. Also, he is apparently a Cuban exile and has no passport and is an absolute hassle at Customs points world-wide, so again why bother with him ? After this bust, which saw them only fined, they were involved in a scuffle at the band's hotel where Joe, drunk and half-dressed, grappled with police and Motel staff trying to eject the band. It caused a regal stink with politicians jumping on the bandwagon and all sorts of heaviness and vituperation going down. The band were allowed to proceed tho', but I'm not sure if they're welcome back. Again though, it just shows the bad luck that has constantly dogged Joe Cocker.
Who needs enemies with friends like Cube ? When the album, "Joe Cooker" (not to be confused with "Joe Cocker !") was issued it was saddled with approximately the worst cover I have ever seen. A most unflattering photo of Joe waving a tambourine, obviously the angle of the photo and the colours of the lightshow combine to make him look like a purple and yellow hunchbacked freak... I consider myself lucky to own the slightly better US version (same back sleeve though, which IS nice.) The album itself well... granted that Joe's voice is gone and that he just cannot reach certain notes, but it is really a good album all things considered. Quite fine in fact. The band play brilliantly throughout with Nell Hubbard especially good on guitars and Chris Stainton, as always, plays a big part in it. There is also much power from the twin drumming of Jim Keltner and Alan White. Side one is all Stainton/Cocker songs, their biggest contribution to an album yet, and altho' his voice may have shaded a bit, he still writes a mean tune and a perceptive lyric. Running thru' the side we have the two singles and their B-sides ”Pardon Me Sir" (should a been huge, great sax break) and the equally fine, "She Don't Mind". "Black Eyed Blues" (a fine blues song) and "High Time We Went" are here which shows the material dated back to vintage Cocker. I always tend to think that the five songs on side one are the ones from the Muscle Shoals sessions of winter 71 just redone, certainly the latter two tracks are the same cuts as those issued as a single in 1971, no matter what the sleeve claims. Which would explain why Joe is in far better voice on the lovely "Something To Say" than on the others when he manages a full-blooded scream without his voice breaking like it does else-where. Interesting. Side two features the other single sides, "Woman to Women" and "Midnight Rider", both really fine songs. The remaining two are live cuts from either the Rainbow or Crystal Palace Bowl gigs (probably the Rainbow) in late 72. As I’ve said I'm a real sucker for the blues and that's why I like "Black Eyed Blues" as well as the live "Do Right Woman" (with glorious vocals from Joe and Viola Wills) and the old Eric Burden epic, "St James Infirmary". A promising return then and into 1973 on a lot of promise, a European and British tour was set for the early part of the year when all of a sudden Chris Stainton just up and quits to get his own thing together. I mean I could've seen the point of his leaving after Mad Dogs, but to stick thru' that desperate period and to get through a comeback successfully then leave on the point of consolidation, well, what can I say. Apart from building a home studio and doing the odd session or two, the Who's "5.l5", Capaldi's second album etc, Chris did nothing for a year then formed Chris Stainton's Tundra which after a few gigs and a single on Nigel Thomas’s Goodear label, has recently split up. Once again shattered, Joe retired to a remote cottage in Cornwall and all sorts of rumours began to filter out about his ever declining state of health. Certainly the interviews done just before the tour shou1d've begun didn't show him in too good form. To add to it further, on his return months later to Sheffield he was immediately busted by the police for having traces of dope in the cigarette ends in his car ashtray. Would it never end? Apparently not, recording sessions in London, Bermuda and LA for a follow up album were not producing much and with the coming of 1974 things dragged on and on until the summer saw another disastrous stage comeback at the Rory in LA, thankfully before a private crowd of record and press types. Under the direction of Jim Price an album was finished and released as "I Can Stand A Little Rain". The album is a strange affair. Their is only one Cocker composition but all the others, by Nillson, Randy Newman, Jim Webb, Billy Preston etc. all appear to have been written for or about Cocker, each relating to the despair, desolation, sadness, resilience that is Joe Cocker. Daniel Moore*s "Put Out The Light" is one of only two fast tunes here while being a fine dance type tune also has a barbed lyric. Similarly, Jim Price's title track, has a basic storyline of I've made it before I can make it again' but I'm not too, keen on the mock applause tagged on at the end ; there to imply, 'damn right Joe, you tell 'em'. Other songs, Randy Newman's 'Guilty' could be about Cocker’s OWN booze problem and not just the guy in the song. Jim Webb's "The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress" chronicles Cocker's fall from grace and fame, "I fell down on my face/ I fell and missed the stars/ I fell ...I fell alone" sum it all up. Apart from "Put Out The Light" and Cocker's only contribution to the song-writing (other than being the subject matter), "I Get Mad" which are both rockers, the remaining eight songs are all piano led blues and ballads each with a guest pianist, Newman, Preston, Webb, Nicky Hopkins, Jim Price, Greg Matherson and David Paich all taking a keyboard role. Only once does guitar get a first mention in the credits, Henry McCullough on Nillson's "Don't Forget Me" - apart from contributing "Sing Me A Song" and one guitar track, a small part of the sessions, Cocker went to great length to entice Henry back from Wings. Cocker’s voice is certainly a lot better than on the previous set but there is a sense that he is not yet back at his best or, more likely, he is not giving his best. He*s still cautious, wary and feeling his way back which should make the second Jim Price produced album, currently under way, a great move if they can build on this. A last word for the musicians who are fine throughout but a big hand to the Atlantic house band of Cornell Dupree, Richard Tee, Chuck Rainey et al and Stevie Wonder's current brass men, Steve Madaio and Trevor Lawrence (check out their stuff on Butterf1eld's live album). The picture was much as before, the album and the single, "Put Out The Light", both biggies in America and nothing over here, so really nothing’s changed, saleswise. A band was put together to tour and promote the album in the US and featured a strong line-up of Henry McCullough on guitar, Jimmy Karstein on drums (also played on Bardney Festival and Crysta Palace gigs) Alan Gelber on bass and Mick Weaver on piano, then in one quick about turn, the lot were sacked except for Mick Weaver and when last heard of the band was Weaver, Albert Lee, Pete Gavin and Gregg Brown. A second tour quickly followed but again a lot of bad publicity has bogged it down - Cocker throwing up on stage, recurrent drunkenness and on it goes. Again 1t’s out of proportion to reality and only happened at a couple of gigs, the rest were fairly successful events, but nobody reports them when there is a seedy alternative. Over the last three or four years, Joe Cocker has been systematically used, abused and conned almost to the point of extinction. He's been lied to, let down and ripped-off so many times it ea1n't true but he keeps on coming back for more, to prove himself time and time again. I’m sure he can, given the backing and help of good management, good musicians and above all, good friends. He's certainly more than the sum of the shambling casualty that he's been allowed to become. There’s a moral to this story, but you can work it out for yourself. |
© Joe Cocker & Lucie Lebens - Tous droits réservés
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