Excerpts from “PLAYING THE BAND”: the musical life of JON HISEMAN
By Martyn Hanson. Edited by Colin Richardson
EARLY DAYS AS A ‘SEMI-PRO’ MUSICIAN….
Playing, as he was, with several different bands, meant a hectic schedule of one-off gigs. Jon remembers one manic weekend: “I left work at 5pm Friday and went to Brixton Town Hall to rehearse with singer Danny Williams, of Moon River fame, for a midnight cabaret. I then drove off to a dance gig, getting back in the nick of time to play Danny’s show. When that finished, I went to the Flamingo and played from 1am till 5am with the Wes Minster
Five…finally getting to bed an hour or so later. Up again at 9am, I drove to central London to do a session for a demo of My Boy Lollipop with ‘pop’ artiste Millie—then it was off to a rehearsal at the Green Man, Blackheath. After a hasty tea at home, it was off to a gig at an American Air Force base, arriving back at 4am on Sunday morning…then up again at 8am for another recording session at Island Studios and back for a lunchtime rehearsal at the Green Man with the Ian Bird Sextet. I managed to snatch an hour break, before driving to a gig in Tonbridge that evening, where I arrived minus my cymbals. I didn’t make it in to work on Monday morning!”
Jon was also doing occasional stints with Richard Rodney Bennett and Jean Hart at Peter Cook’s Establishment Club, as well as several ‘depping’ gigs on the London jazz scene. This manic schedule would continue until mid 1966, though not often at the level of the weekend described.
With such a heavy workload, it was no surprise that he was getting noticed by other musicians, one of whom was Graham Bond. One Sunday, around
lunchtime, drawn by the sound of a big band, he had wandered into the 100 Club in Oxford Street and seen Jon play at a New Jazz Orchestra rehearsal. He mentioned to Dick Heckstall-Smith that, if ever the drum chair became vacant in his band, Jon would be ideal. Well, it seemed that the time had now arrived. Ginger Baker was leaving to form the ‘supergroup’ Cream, with Jack
Bruce and Eric Clapton, but when Bond finally offered Jon the gig, it created a dilemma for him — he would finally have to confront the idea of becoming a professional musician. It was decision time!
Jon plays on Arthur Brown’s iconic hit record “Fire”.
About this time, he was called in by Arthur Brown to play on his new single, Fire. Of course, Jon had no idea that it would turn out to be not just a hit, but also a future classic. Recently, Internet gossip has placed a question mark over who exactly was the drummer on the record, because it’s certain that Drachen Theaker and possibly also Carl Palmer recorded it. However, in a recent conversation with Arthur, Jon mentioned that he was in the studio when Kit Lambert (manager of The Who) was producing and Arthur suddenly became certain that this version was the one released. On the session, Jon also played on the ‘B’ side — Give Him a Flower and the discerning listener can hear him singing in the chorus! Jon’s take on all this is: “When Fire was released, my mum went out and bought it—as mums do— and when I next visited…proudly played it. So, I got to hear it pretty soon after the session — and it never occurred to me that it wasn’t me!”
Life on the road…
The mileage that a gigging band clocked up certainly increased the odds of an accident, especially when tiredness kicked in. Jon admitted in one interview: “I sometimes wonder when I kiss Barbara goodbye, whether I will, in fact, see her again or whether some maniac driver is going to sandwich us between a van and an articulated lorry! You can’t travel on a motorway without seeing accidents and blood on the road.” He recalls one occasion, travelling on a German autobahn in a blizzard…the roadside littered with wrecked cars. It looked as if an enemy aircraft had strafed the motorway! Such was the reality of life on the road.
Exit John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers… and enter Colosseum.
Towards the end of their holiday, he and Barbara spent the day sightseeing in Rome. Jon was a serious student of Roman history and had spent much of his spare time on the road reading up on the subject: “We were on the high point of the Forum overlooking the Senate House on the left and the Colosseum on the right. I had my head in my hands, Barbara leaning on the rail next to me, shaded by the cypress trees behind us. It was a very hot day. I turned to Barbara and said: “I’m leaving JohnMayall. I’m going back to London and I’m going to form a band and call it Jon Hiseman’s Colosseum.” Her reply was typical: “Go for it!” The name had come to him almost as he spoke and he also had very definite ideas of who he wanted with him in the band, so on his return he immediately set about gathering the clan. Mayall soon got wind of Jon’s plans on the grapevine and phoned him: “I hear you’re leaving us,” he laughed. Jon never forgot that royal ‘us’, but at least there was no acrimony from the ever-gracious Mayall.
Breaking the European market…
On 25th April, 1969, Colosseum played the first of four nights at the prestigious Montreux “Golden Rose” TV Festival. The fee per show was a derisory £75, plus expenses, but was justified by the promotional value of appearing before an ‘invitation-only’ audience comprising TV producers, press and other industry and media heavyweights. The deal also included performing three songs for Swiss TV, which would subsequently be offered to Eurovision, for screening in other countries. It was all setup by Colin Richardson, who saw it as a means of breaking into the European markets. It seems to have worked, as only a week after the “Golden Rose” they found themselves in Hilversum, Holland, for another TV show.
With Valentyne Suite in the can, the band returned to Montreux in June, this time to appear at the renowned Jazz Festival, on a bill that included Ella Fitzgerald, Clarke Terry’s Big Band, John Surman and, rather more unusually, Ten Years After. How Colosseum played at the festival is lost in the mists of time, but what is remembered is the ‘impromptu’ performance by the casino pool as a publicity stunt, delighting the many punters that witnessed it. As it was a warm, sunny afternoon, Dick decided to play ‘topless’, so to speak, and at the end of their final number, immediately jumped into the pool to cool off. Almost the stuff of which legends are made!
The demise of Colosseum…
Melody Maker’s Chris Welch was at the Albert Hall concert and wrote a stinging review that reverberated throughout Colosseum and their management. The headline pulled no punches: “Colosseum — time for a rethink?” According to the MM scribe, the show got off to a good start, but: “…during Chris Farlowe’s blood- curdling yell, we were listening to a noise machine that had seized up. Until The Pirate’s Dream the band were playing well, but from then a slow rot set in.” Even Jon’s drum solo didn’t escape criticism: “…it went on too long and he seemed to be treading water, reducing the impact.” Coming from one of their biggest fans, it was just about as bad a review as it could be.
Secretly, some of Colosseum, Jon included, agreed with the review – Chris Welch had always supported the band and hitherto his reviews had been positive. He appreciated their risk-taking approach and their ability to produce music that sounded fresh and inspired. Perhaps three years of experimentation, personnel changes and continual touring had taken its toll. Had Colosseum possibly reached ‘burn-out’?
….guitarist Peter Frampton had confirmed that he was leaving Humble Pie and Clem had received a formal offer to replace him. He was obviously tempted and met with Jon to talk it over. Jon clearly remembers how it went down: “When Clem came to me and told me of the offer, I said, without hesitation, you should take it…I’ll fold Colosseum. The shit hit the fan for me following the Albert Hall concert. After that, I was just waiting for the excuse that no one would argue with too much — and Clem provided it. I remember feeling relieved, partly because I could now be sure of being present at the birth of our first child, our son Marcus. Clem saw it this way: “I was thoroughly disillusioned with what seemed a very contrived approach to writing and I just wanted to return to the simplicity of the blues.” The sad, but unavoidable truth was – the Colosseum juggernaut had begun grinding to a halt well before this.
On the 6th of November 1971, Melody Maker trumpeted ‘Colosseum Split’ — with Jon citing ‘musical problems’ and asserting that the members of the group were all ‘moving in different directions’.
An unlikely partnership…
About this time, Andrew Lloyd Webber lost a bet with his cello-playing brother Julian over a Leyton Orient football match and as a result was forced to fulfil a long overdue promise to compose a work for him. Called Variations, it was a suite of music based on an original theme for violin by Paganini, which Andrew envisaged as a heady fusion of classical music, rock and jazz. He was undecided about which other musicians to use for the project, as he wasn’t quite sure whether he could achieve the style he wanted from established session musicians. Then, while visiting his record company, MCA, who were keen to have a follow-up to his previous success Evita, he happened to overhear a test-pressing of Electric Savage and realised he had found the answer. Soon afterwards, Jon received a phone call. “You won’t know me, but my name is Andrew Lloyd Webber — I just heard your new album and wondered if you would like to come to my flat to discuss working together.” Jon was intrigued and agreed immediately. After making him welcome, Andrew sat at the piano and played Variations to a slightly bemused Jon, who subsequently remembered little of the meeting except Andrew’s infectious enthusiasm. He was, however, aware that a couple of the themes were already buzzing around inside his head. Money was still very tight for Colosseum II and Jon had a hunch that this project could be interesting and maybe lucrative — now he just had to convince Gary Moore and Don Airey. Jon pointed out that Andrew was with the same record company—so it was all in the family, so to speak, and 10 days’ well-paid studio work was not to be sneezed at! As the day of the first run-through drew near, Jon got
a phone call from Andrew’s manager, David Land, asking if he knew of a saxophonist who could double on flute, play classically and improvise.
“Absolutely!” replied Jon!
33 years later…Colosseum reunite…
Soon the rumours of Colosseum re-forming started to fly and though Jon felt reasonably committed to it happening, the question was — when and where? It was now that fate took a hand. While Jon was on the road with Paraphernalia, he developed a persistent and severe sore throat. Jon explains: “We were on tour in Germany and following a gig in Freiburg, I visited Dr Alexander Heisler for treatment. We had known each other for some time, since both Paraphernalia and the United Jazz &Rock Ensemble had performed at the Freiburg Zelt Musik Festival, of which he was founder and artistic director. He was aware of the rumours and persuaded me, as only he could, that the festival would be the ideal occasion for our debut reunion appearance. He’s a ‘one-off’…a man of enormous enthusiasm and drive, laced with a sense of chaotic informality and I immediately felt that, though
it was a somewhat daunting undertaking, it would go well under his patronage.” They agreed an informal deal and, on his return,
Jon contacted the rest of the band, discussed a set-list…and sent them all the relevant Colosseum CDs to help them re-learn their parts. The band then re-convened at Jon’s studio: “We met up on 17th June 1994…I counted them in for Those About to Die and we played as if the band had never been apart! When Chris followed that with a fantastic performance of Skellington, I realised this was for real!” The depressing memory of those final days in 1971 was suddenly replaced with a sense of euphoria!
The book ‘Playing the band’ can be purchased from Amazon here or from Jon’s website here
where his book has been reduced to only £10.99 plus P&P.
