Alan Clayson Interview

It is a pleasure for me to include an interview with Alan Clayson on my website. He is undoubtedly one of my favourite music biographers; he brings a literary and scholarly approach to his subjects that few other writers can better. He has penned books on The Yardbooks, The Beatles, the Stones, Led Zeppelin and Steve Winwood. His latest book is The Rolling Stones: Beggars Banquet (Flame Tree Publishing.) Visit www.alanclayson.com for more information.

 

Your books are primarily about sixties bands; what is it about that era that fascinates you so much?

I was on the brink of adolescence when the Sixties started Swinging - except they didn't for me, living as I was in a country town that was, like, Dullsville. Though London was commuter-close, the distance was measurable in years rather than miles.
      A combination of the locality's moral and sociological climate; drudgery in a grammar school C-stream, and a 'working class posh' upbringing centred on the church caused me to lose my faith quite painlessly when I was about nine, and then awoke in my teenage self a desire to have been born five years earlier with a destiny as a 1960s pop star (and, in deep middle age, I still dwell on this).
      Thus, as some withered pedagogue prattled on about, say, one of Euclid's knottier theorems, I'd be stealing illicit glances beneath desk-top level at Disc & Music Echo, as others would at War Picture Library, Roy of the Rovers in Hotspur or selected passages from Lady Chatterley's Lover. As homework was neglected in the evening, sometimes the records spoke to me as God did to St. Paul on the road to Damascus. No, really! A Pretty Things B-side, 'I Can Never Say', for instance, was a particularly articulate speech of the heart as I traced a guitar in the vapour of a window and wondered why my mother had cried that she'd die of shame if ever I appeared on stage with a pop group.

 

Of all your books, which one has been the most difficult to write?

Since last summer, I've been preoccupied with a commissioned autobiography with the working title Nut Rocker. Its necessary exorcism of personal ghosts has proved traumatic at times, and, so far, this project has amounted to not so much closure as expanded interval notes on an unquiet fifty-seven years on this planet. Yet, crucially, it's meant to be entertaining.

 

Can you briefly give me a history of your writing career?

I was a stage entertainer, composer and recording artist long before I became an author. In 1980, I was buying some guitar strings in a musical equipment shop in Camberwell, south-east London, when I recognised that the counter assistant was a former member of The Dave Clark Five. The lengthy conversation that followed was the basis of a feature about the Five that I submitted to Record Collector. More articles followed, and I was approached to write my first book, Call Up The Groups!: The Golden Age Of British Beat, 1962-1967.
      Because this was a critical triumph, a more prestigious publisher asked me to take on a biography of Steve Winwood. Soon, I was scratching a living from my pen at a more alarming rate than I was as a musician. Books alone - around thirty to date - have ranged from supermarket potboilers (a couple under pseudonyms) to serious commercial successes, most conspicuously, the Backbeat film tie-in, Beat Merchants, Jacques Brel, Death Discs, an authorised history of The Yardbirds and The Beatles Box. I also contribute to such disparate journals as The Sunday Times, Mojo, Mediaeval World, Guitar, Hello!, Rock 'N' Reel, The Guardian, Ugly Things  and The Independent as well as connected tasks such as scripting and presenting a programme based on Death Discs for BBC Radio Two.

 

Do you have any favourite music biographies by other writers?

Yes, but the subject's artistic output has always been much more attractive than the biographer's literary style. For example, although I am an admirer of Philip Norman, I didn't bother with his life of Elton John, simply because I've never been an Elton John consumer, very much the opposite. The same applies to Johnny Rogan and The Smiths.

 

Do you make a living from writing? How easy/difficult is it to get your ideas commissioned?

If I was fortunate in having my first three books handed to me on a plate, there have been leaner periods when I've had to solicit publishers with ideas - usually by sending a synopsis and a list of reasons why a work about such-and-such a person or thing might be a worthwhile marketing exercise. Results have been mixed. One concerning the modern classical composer Edgard Varese barely covered the advance, while Backbeat bought me in the first instance a new car, a loft conversion and a long summer holiday. Indeed, it was in a profit position before it had even been printed - principally through being sold in overseas territories.

Your latest book is on the Rolling Stones classic album Beggars Banquet; did it require a lot of research?

Each of my books requires a lot of research, but here my burden was lightened because I'd already produced biographies of Brian Jones, Charlie Watts, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger plus a more recent paperback of commentary on the group’s entire discography up to 2006, and a chronicle of the early years. In any case, the Stones have been surfacing in my life as regularly as rocks in the stream since a twelve-year-old lay suffocating under bedclothes with a cheap transistor radio to his ear, hoping that Radio Luxembourg would spin 'Come On' again.

 

How long does it take you to write a biography?

How long is a piece of string? There are so many variables, notably the completion date on the contract.

 

Have any of your books caused controversy amongst fans?

Have you noticed the extremity of some of the comments on each one of them in Amazon? To different degrees, all my books have been cause celebres. Adverse reaction has ranged from correspondence via www.alanclayson.com of the abusive 'How dare you write what you wrote about my favourite group!' persuasion to the most erudite argument and detailed annotation of supposed errors and omissions from those whose lives are devoted to studying and collating information about a given artist.

 

Have you had any uncomfortable interviewing experiences?

No. Maybe I've been lucky. Nevertheless, like a soldier going over the top in the Great War, I'm uneasy about cold-calling complete strangers about events that took place up to half a century ago - and I've been driven with self-disgust when wheedling an interview from someone who only wanted  to crawl away and hide.

 

Do you know if any of the artists you have written about have commented on your books?

My biographies on The Troggs and The Yardbirds met with approval, and are merchandised by both groups. However, of Back In The High Life, Steve Winwood, damn his impudence, remarked, 'That's a great book - if you like fiction' - and I was informed that Ringo Starr refused to autograph a copy of my tome about him. However, George Harrison sought my support when considering litigation against another of his biographers.

 

What sort of advice would you give to aspiring biographers?

It boils down to self-denial, self-motivation and the hard graft of delivering sound goods within the time frame. Yet that's merely the beginning. When your biography is on the shelves, you can help yourself by being available for signings, media exposure and further promotional strategies. Moreover, it's too easy to reap the church-mouse harvest of being lackadaisical about business. If you've the energy, it may be wise to develop an intense - and possibly unwelcome - inquisitiveness about every link of the chain from sub-editing to pressing plant to market place.
      Finally, I've never relied on a literary agency, preferring to trust in my own tenacity and string-pulling. Publishing is full of dodgy geezers who have failed in other fields. Nonetheless, if you become a client of a reputable company, you could be guaranteed work for as long as you can hold a biro. 

 

What are your future projects?

A Clayson novel, The Thistledown Flash - completed before the turn of the millennium - should be out before the end of the year. That might be an indicator of future direction - as does a resumed hands-on involvement with art.
      I function too as chief show-off with Alan Clayson and the Argonauts, who were exhumed for a one-off engagement to launch Sunset On A Legend, a two-CD retrospective, in December 2005, but have since undertaken more farewell performances than Frank Sinatra.
      Beyond this time warp, I am a solo cabaret act, and will be recording a new album this summer with Wreckless Eric at the console.

 

Anything else?

A defining moment occurred at quarter to five one morning in 1984 when I was two-thirds of the way through Call Up The Groups!. Red-eyed and unshaven, I was rocking back and forth in front of a typewriter in the evening of its life. My fingers were sticky with correcting fluid, and, for nearly half-an-hour, I hadn't been able to think of anything constructive to say about a singer called Chris Farlowe. I'd had enough, and was on the verge of giving up the entire book -and probably any sort of future as a professional writer. If I was more tidy-minded (or lazy), I'd tell you that a Great Light Dawned, and an Idea Came To Me In A Flash. Instead, a few more minutes dragged by, and then my brains, like old millstones, stirred and groaned reluctantly into action, and I ground out the next Tippex-drenched sentence...

 

Interview by Neil Daniels 2008