Read Online Tom Jones - the Life by Sean Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sean Smith
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you’re signing the dole, like.” And I showed him, “Do a big S like this, and then put two big lines across the ts.” He tried it and said, “Like that?” and I said, “Yeah, like that.”’
A new name was the first step in smoothing out Tom’s rough edges to make him more acceptable to a paying audience. The next meant binning the beloved Teddy boy suit. It was the end of a long era, but Tom was persuaded to move on to black leather and a stage outfit that Elvis or Gene Vincent might wear.
One of Tom’s notable characteristics throughout his career is that he is amenable to change and suggestion. He doesn’t let ego get in the way of what he considers good sense. He accepts things and gets on with it. He wanted to look good, but what mattered most to him was the music he was going to sing. The biggest influence he had within the group was on their repertoire.
First and foremost, he wanted Jerry Lee Lewis. As Keith Davies remembers, the rest of the band would be mischievous about that: ‘He was just Jerry Lee Lewis orientated all the time. He would introduce a song by saying, “We would like to sing a song now by Mister Jerry Lee Lewis,” and we would all look surprised and go, “Jerry Lee Lewis???”’
Tom took the gentle ribbing in good spirit and was never less than dedicated. At their weekly rehearsals, they used to take it in turns to suggest a number to perform during their week-long round of gigs.
Keith recalls, ‘He would say something like, “I want to do a song called ‘Bama Lama Bama Loo’” and I would say, “Christ, what’s that?” It was usually something I had never heard of. Then it would be my turn and I would say I wanted to do “The Young Ones” by Cliff Richard, and Tom hated his music – he just didn’t like it. Every time I used to do the intro, you could see his face going. It was a soppy tune for him to sing!’
Tom had to grit his teeth and learn some of the more anaemic chart songs, because that was what their audience wanted. ‘He used to feel a prat doing it, but they were in the charts and people used to sing them.’
Tom was doing his homework though. Most Saturday afternoons, Vernon would go around to the house in Cliff Terrace, say hello to Linda and young Mark and then join Tom upstairs in his mother-in-law’s lounge and listen to records on his old portable record player. Tom and Vernon weren’t interested in rugby or football or social injustice – just music. They would spend hours talking about it.
Jerry Lee Lewis, of course, featured a lot in Tom’s expanding record collection. ‘Listen to the drums on this,’ he would say enthusiastically, as he put yet another of The Killer’s tracks on the turntable.
By a quirk of fate, soon after he joined The Senators, Tom noticed that his hero was performing a concert at the Sophia Gardens in Cardiff as part of his comeback. Tom had been disappointed four years earlier, when Jerry Lee, then twenty-two, cancelled his concert in Cardiff after revelations about his marriage hit the front pages. He had arrived in Britain for a six-week tour in May 1958, when journalists spotted a young girl in his entourage called Myra, who he said was fifteen and his third wife. That was bad enough, but she turned out to be his first cousin once removed and was only thirteen. Their union was a product of the hillbilly mentality prevalent in the Deep South. His management pulled Jerry Lee out of that tour after only three concerts. Tom recalled, ‘When the public found out about it, there was uproar and he got sent out of the country.’
Tom managed to get tickets in the front row for his hero’s return and would later reveal that it was his favourite musical performance ever. Jerry Lee did all his favourites, including show-stopping versions of ‘High School Confidential’ and an encore of ‘Good Golly, Miss Molly’. One critic described his act as ‘far and away the most exciting thing I have ever seen on a British
A new name was the first step in smoothing out Tom’s rough edges to make him more acceptable to a paying audience. The next meant binning the beloved Teddy boy suit. It was the end of a long era, but Tom was persuaded to move on to black leather and a stage outfit that Elvis or Gene Vincent might wear.
One of Tom’s notable characteristics throughout his career is that he is amenable to change and suggestion. He doesn’t let ego get in the way of what he considers good sense. He accepts things and gets on with it. He wanted to look good, but what mattered most to him was the music he was going to sing. The biggest influence he had within the group was on their repertoire.
First and foremost, he wanted Jerry Lee Lewis. As Keith Davies remembers, the rest of the band would be mischievous about that: ‘He was just Jerry Lee Lewis orientated all the time. He would introduce a song by saying, “We would like to sing a song now by Mister Jerry Lee Lewis,” and we would all look surprised and go, “Jerry Lee Lewis???”’
Tom took the gentle ribbing in good spirit and was never less than dedicated. At their weekly rehearsals, they used to take it in turns to suggest a number to perform during their week-long round of gigs.
Keith recalls, ‘He would say something like, “I want to do a song called ‘Bama Lama Bama Loo’” and I would say, “Christ, what’s that?” It was usually something I had never heard of. Then it would be my turn and I would say I wanted to do “The Young Ones” by Cliff Richard, and Tom hated his music – he just didn’t like it. Every time I used to do the intro, you could see his face going. It was a soppy tune for him to sing!’
Tom had to grit his teeth and learn some of the more anaemic chart songs, because that was what their audience wanted. ‘He used to feel a prat doing it, but they were in the charts and people used to sing them.’
Tom was doing his homework though. Most Saturday afternoons, Vernon would go around to the house in Cliff Terrace, say hello to Linda and young Mark and then join Tom upstairs in his mother-in-law’s lounge and listen to records on his old portable record player. Tom and Vernon weren’t interested in rugby or football or social injustice – just music. They would spend hours talking about it.
Jerry Lee Lewis, of course, featured a lot in Tom’s expanding record collection. ‘Listen to the drums on this,’ he would say enthusiastically, as he put yet another of The Killer’s tracks on the turntable.
By a quirk of fate, soon after he joined The Senators, Tom noticed that his hero was performing a concert at the Sophia Gardens in Cardiff as part of his comeback. Tom had been disappointed four years earlier, when Jerry Lee, then twenty-two, cancelled his concert in Cardiff after revelations about his marriage hit the front pages. He had arrived in Britain for a six-week tour in May 1958, when journalists spotted a young girl in his entourage called Myra, who he said was fifteen and his third wife. That was bad enough, but she turned out to be his first cousin once removed and was only thirteen. Their union was a product of the hillbilly mentality prevalent in the Deep South. His management pulled Jerry Lee out of that tour after only three concerts. Tom recalled, ‘When the public found out about it, there was uproar and he got sent out of the country.’
Tom managed to get tickets in the front row for his hero’s return and would later reveal that it was his favourite musical performance ever. Jerry Lee did all his favourites, including show-stopping versions of ‘High School Confidential’ and an encore of ‘Good Golly, Miss Molly’. One critic described his act as ‘far and away the most exciting thing I have ever seen on a British
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