Thursday, August 11, 2005

Long Dong Baldry, Gone

Listen




Image Hosted by ImageShack.us



TORONTO (Billboard) - British R&B singer Long John Baldry died July 21 in Vancouver, British Columbia, after battling a chest infection for four months. He was 64.

After playing folk and jazz in the late 1950s, Baldry became one of the founding fathers of British rock 'n' roll in the 1960s. Eric Clapton has often said that he was inspired to pick up the guitar after seeing Baldry perform.

While appearing at the Cavern in Liverpool in the early 1960s, Baldry befriended Paul McCartney, who invited him to perform for the internationally televised special "Around the Beatles" in 1964.

Later in the decade, Baldry, whose nickname was attributed to his 6-foot-7-inch height, played with influential British bands Blues Incorporated and Cyril Davies' R&B All Stars. He later fronted the Hoochie Coochie Men, which included Rod Stewart, who also joined Baldry in Steam Packet.

"Long John Baldry launched me on my musical journey," Stewart told Billboard. "He always had encouraging words when I was just getting out there as a performer at 16. He might not have been a legend in the proverbial sense, but he was a cult hero with his own following and has definitely been my mentor."

After a brief period with Bluesology (with Elton John on keyboards), Baldry went solo and scored a No. 1 U.K. hit with the ballad "Let the Heartaches Begin" in 1967. With production assistance from Stewart and John, Baldry recorded the 1971 album "It Ain't Easy" for Warner Bros. Records, featuring his signature song, "Don't Try to Lay No Boogie Woogie on the King of Rock 'n' Roll."

After emigrating to Canada in the mid-1980s, Baldry recorded for EMI Music Canada. Beginning in 1991, he cut five albums for Stony Plain Records, which is slated to rerelease "It Ain't Easy" and its follow-up, "Everything Stops for Tea," this fall.

Since the early 1990s, Baldry was also known in Canada for his extensive voice work in commercials. He also provided the voice of Robotnik in the "Sonic the Hedgehog" computer game and narrated "Winnie the Pooh" recordings for Walt Disney Records.



Elton's "Someone" is Long Dong.
Richard Burnett

Long John Baldry had been on my "to interview" list since 1999. I'm a sucker for out, proud gay men and sadly I never got the chance to speak with the British blues legend before he passed on July 21.

There are many Long John stories and one really needs to sit down with the kids Baldry brought up - Mick Jagger, Eric Clapton and especially Elton John and Rod Stewart - to fully appreciate the musical legacy of the man B.B. King (his friend) called a blues pioneer.

In a business where folks like Luther Vandross and Ricky Martin choose to remain in the closet so they can sell more records and concert tickets, Long John Baldry was defiantly out. And damn the consequences.

"John was not well accepted as a gay man by the blues community - it's a very macho industry," his partner of 28 years, Felix "Oz" Rexach, told me last week. "But he was more than well accepted as a performer in his field."

And few protégés loved him more than Elton John and Rod Stewart. In a rare interview, Baldry told my old colleague Bernard Gadoua in the now-defunct Montreal gay magazine Orientations, "Rod, he was singing on the platform at Twickenham railway station [in London]. In the beginning I hired him to play blues harmonica rather than sing. But he ended singing for my band. I offered him a full-time job. And Elton was always a very good pianist. He never sang when he started. He only played piano. He was with my band from November 1966 to May 1968."

When Elton - then named Reginald Dwight - left the band, he renamed himself after Baldry's saxophonist Elton Dean, and got "John" after Long John himself. And when Elton tried to commit suicide in 1968 because he was unhappy he was gay and was supposed to marry a woman he did not love, Baldry told him it was okay to be gay, a moment immortalized in Elton's 1975 hit Someone Saved My Life Tonight. The lyrics "Sugar Bear" refer to Baldry.
[I don't agree, Elton refers to his fiance in this reference. "Someone" in Someone Saved My Life Tonight is Long Dong Though - Kaptainsteve]

"We were sharing a pint at the Bag of Nails, and he was crying at the table, weeping really, saying how he didn't want to go through with the wedding," Baldry recently explained. He told Elton he didn't have to go through with it because "people like us don't get married."

But Baldry was, for all intents and purposes, married. He and "Oz" were together 28 years. "Many people believe touring is glamorous, but [Oz] knows there's nothing glamorous about being on the road," Baldry told Orientations.

Before he met Oz, though, the road did offer some perks. "When I was 20 or 30 years old there were lots of groupies. But I'm over 60 now and not many beautiful boys chase me any more. Unless they're interested in money that I don't have."

In the latter years, Oz says, "I was the one that always got blamed for everything that went wrong." He laughs, then adds, "Seriously, I was a great scapegoat."

Baldry became a Canadian citizen in 1980 and settled in Vancouver where, with Oz and Rod Stewart by his side, he checked into the Vancouver General Hospital four months ago battling a chest infection. Stewart paid for a lot of medical bills and, Oz says, "Rod was, as always, very supportive and came to see him in Vancouver, which gave him a big boost. They even made plans to do things when John got better."

Things, we now know, didn't get better. But Baldry's legacy lives on.

"John hated the 'living legend' tag, as people always expected him to do something 'legendary,'" Oz says. "No matter how appropriate, it was still a lot of pressure to try to live up to. But his legacy will go on. John made 40 wonderful albums, he was such a talent. There are so many young people out there who have yet to discover and appreciate his work. I'll miss him. It was incredible to share my life with such a generous man. Twenty-eight years is quite a journey. And I want to thank all who have sent [us] such wonderful messages of support."

ooo


The Making of a Legend by Rod Stewart (Reader’s Digest/Dec/ 2004)
'Long John Baldry launched me on my musical career.'- Rod Stewart
I was 18 and playing harmonica and singing a Muddy Waters song in a railway station, when Long John Baldry ran over to me from the other side of the tracks. I had just been to see him play at a club; he was one of the top Bluesmen in England. But John didn’t sing Muddy Waters songs – he knew Muddy Waters, had performed with him and with Ramblin' Jack Elliott too. And now he was asking,” Would you like to join the band?”

For me, just shaking his hand – knowing all the great musicians whose hand he’d shaken before – was mind-blowing. But so was John. Picture this elegant man with a proper English accent, never without a tie, a towering six-foot-seven. I was a huge fan and I was intimidated by his offer. Rod Stewart wasn’t in demand in those days; no one was interested. I immediately said yes. John had a knack for discovering talent. Ginger Baker, Jeff Beck and Brian Jones all worked with him early on. Elton John played piano in one of his bands, other Rolling Stones too – Charlie, Ron Wood, and Keith. In 1962, when the Rolling Stones were just getting started, they opened for him in London. Eric Clapton has said many times that John was one of the musicians that inspired him to play the Blues. And for their internationally televised special in 1964, the Beatles invited John to perform his version of 'I Got My Mojo Working'. In those days the only music we fell in love with was the Blues, and John was the first white guy singing it, in his wonderful voice. It was the true Blues and everyone looked up to him. I wasn’t very good on the harmonica, but my gravelly voice caught his attention. He was the first person of any stature to tell me, “You really have the gift. You have what it takes”. He turned some of us into musical legends, but it was never what he expected from himself. You didn’t hear John on the radio or see him on TV. He just played these clubs that I started going to when I was 16. At the time I hadn’t thought much about performing except as a way to meet girls. John put me on an amazing wage, close to $100 a week, which in the early ‘60s was an astronomical amount. I remember thinking, "If this lasts for 6 months I’ll be able to buy a little sports car which I’d been saving for. Of course, that would help me get some girls". We didn’t rehearse before my first performance with John’s band and I was very nervous so I had a few drinks. John introduced me as an 'up-and-coming' new singer and I sang John Lee Hooker's classic 'Dimples', which died a death! There was a horrible silence after my performance. But John was great. He’s one of the kindest guys, reassuring and positive. He just said, "Well come away, don’t worry about it."-

Then he had me come to his apartment the next day and go through some songs on the guitar to get the keys worked out. He always had encouraging words, especially when I’d mess up on stage. He’d just say, "Oh you’re young yet; it’ll all come to you". It wasn’t dismissive. It was always said in a way that made me feel he believed what he was telling me. John taught me so much – things that apply to my life and things that made me the human being I am today. He had tremendous stage presence. "You watch any great performer and they never stand at the microphone with their legs together." he said.

"Have a manly stance. Be bold on stage – bold as you would be playing soccer", which I was good at then. He taught me to project with my hands when I’m singing. See me onstage today and you’re seeing what John taught me. John was really looking out for me when we were on the road. My first time in a club outside of London, we played a club In Manchester (Kyle’s note – where Eric Burdon lived and started). He said, "Don’t worry just get up there and sing". I was nervous. A band mate gave me a pill – an amphetamine called a black bomber. I got onstage and played one song for 20 minutes, the same verse over and over. John found out and reprimanded the guy, firing him for corrupting me. He was very fatherly, always looking out for my welfare. As our careers progressed, John continued playing in clubs, which he’s still happily doing. He didn’t write songs; he’s never been ambitious that way. Although he made some albums that got radio play, he was never a huge recording star. But in the UK he did have a Number 1 hit with 'Let the Heartaches Begin'. He’s not particularly worried about financial gain or seeing himself in the papers. He’s comfortable as long as he can play his guitar. John may not be a legend in the proverbial sense, but he’s a cult hero with his own following and the fans who flock to his performances. He leaves me phone messages with that accent of his: "Dear Roddy, how the hell are you?" Every time I pick up a guitar, I play the old folk song 'Mother Ain't Dead', which I learned with John in the mid 60s. We both love the Blues, and we’re tremendously in love with American Folk music. In fact next time I’m touring & he’s in the neighborhood, I think I’ll ask him to come onstage and play 'Mother Ain't Dead', just the two of us. It’ll be great. MP3- Mother Ain't Dead /with Rod Stewart from the Everything Stops for Tea album |**ROD STEWART'S LONG JOHN BALDRY TRIBUTE |






1 comments:

Anonymous said...

Long Dong took the ride on the Jubilee Cloud. Love the man's voice. One of the greats.