Mott the Hoople
Pete
Frame and
Ian Hunter discuss
the origins…
To talk to Ian Hunter today, and outline his future
with impregnable confidence and determination, its difficult
to remember just what a scuffling, mixed up waif he was back
in 1969, when Mott the Hoople was no more than a twinkle in Guy
Stevens' eyes.
Guy, in a typical fit of inspired lunacy, was going berserk in
a Denmark Street rehearsal studio, rejecting streams of applicants
for a gig he'd advertised. He was looking for a singing piano player
to complement a group he had just signed to Island records - but
because he had such a clear idea of the sound and approach he wanted
to achieve, it seemed impossible to find the right man for the
job. Musicians came and went - with alarming rapidity - punctuated
by Guy tearing his hair and yelling "next one, next one".
Hunter, oblivious to these peculiar events being enacted in Soho,
was ensconced in front of the television when the phone rang. "It
was a bloke called Bill Farley, who ran Regent Sound Studios; I
used to do a lot of demos there when I was a staff songwriter for
Francis, Day and Hunter, and I'd got to know him quite well. He
asked me if I'd seen the ad in Melody Maker - because the group
was down at his place - and he reckoned it would be worth my while
having a go for it. Well, I wasn't in the mood; I had a headache
and I was tired - so I told him I just didn't feel like it, because
though I was out of work and looking for a job, he'd got me to
go to other auditions previously and they never turned out to be
any good. In any case, I was a really crappy piano player".
Two hours later the phone rang again. "It was Bill, ringing to
to tell me there were only two to go, and the group didn't like
any of them so far - and what's more, there was a retainer involved.
Well, I still didn't bother - primarily because I didn't have a
car; to get from Archway to Denmark Street involved 3 bus rides
and a wait of about half an hour between each".
At eleven, Bill phoned again. "He said I ought to get down there
because they'd run out of applicants and the job was still vacant
- so I relented and said I was on my way. The gods must have been
with me because I got to the end of the road just in time to catch
a bus - which got to Kings Cross just as my other one was leaving.
So I nipped on that - and there was no wait at the next change
either... So I arrived at Regent Sound within half an hour. Despite
this, I went in the studio in one of those violent filthy moods
when you think 'bollocks, what have I got to lose?' I had absolutely
no confidence or ability on the piano, so it was a case of brazening
it out, and when they asked me what songs I knew, I said 'what
about Like a rolling Stone', because I could just about stumble
through that. Well, as we played, this scruffy looking bloke who'd
been lurking down the bottom end of the studio, slowly wandered
around until he was standing behind me - and apparently he began
to gesticulate wildly at the others, making signs of approval...
it turned out to be Guy Stevens. So I'd played and sung, and they'd
played along - and in some ways, it felt as if I was auditioning
them - and then they sent me off to this club next door whilst
they talked over whether I'd do or not. About half an hour later,
Bill came in and told me I'd got the job - and got a phone call
from Island Records the next morning confirming it".
Thus, Ian Hunter joined the Herefordshire group Silence, and Mott
the Hoople was born.

Silence's ancestry is far too complex to examine in detail, but,
briefly, the picture is built up as follows: Overend Watts and
Buffin played together (for five bob - twenty five pence - a night
each) in a school band called The Anchors, who gigged at the Hope
and Anchor in Ross-on-Wye during the summer of 1963. Deciding that
their approach was too theatrically tame, They became Wild Dog's
Hell Hounds, led by Wild Dog Watts, who's accessories included
a gold lame waistcoat made up from curtain material, a Beatle wig
and a dogs bowl from which he would drink water.
This ensemble was responsible for fairly diverting R&B performances
at local school dances and Conservative Club parties, but evolved
into the Soulents - still retaining the Overend/Buffin nucleus,
but this time specialising in Who imitations. Leaving school, but
remaining semi-pro musicians, they became Silence (mark 1) until
Overend accepted an offer to join Mick Ralphs' band.
Mick, having started in a Bromyard outfit called The Buddies,
went on to Problem before forming The Doc Thomas Group with Stan
Tippins on vocals.
Overend was seduced into this band from his career as a trainee
architect, and he was followed by Buffin and an organist called
Verden Allen. Then followed some gruelling years of what the music
press tend to brush aside with the useful phrase 'paying their
dues' - mainly on the continent, and particularly in Italy, where
they recorded an album.
Mick: "The gigs in Italy lasted, on and off, for a couple of years
and they gave us a good deal of experience. Good English groups
were very popular over there at the time - but we got really sick
of pandering to the pop crowd with number like 'Release Me'. We
really wanted to play our own music".
The Doc Thomas Group folded in a fit of anguish, with the members
anxious to re-assess their future - and during this limbo period,
Mick, Verden and Buffin played in Jimmy Cliff's backing band -
but the group reformed, firstly as the Shakedown Sound, and then
as Silence (mark 2)... which was when the optimistic Mick Ralphs
visited Island Records bearing demo tapes.
Overend: "We were gigging mostly in Wales at the time, and we'd
practically made up our minds to split up because of the dwindling
work situation. Guy Stevens was our last hope, I suppose".
Guy listened to their demos, but remained unimpressed. Gripped
by a fit of tenacity, however, Mick Ralphs refused to take no for
an answer - and pestered Guy to reconsider his refusal.
This time Guy (to my mind one of the ten most important figures
in British rock in the sixties) relented; he decided to modify
Silence's line-up to a Band/Procul Harem/piano and organ combination
and assume to roles of producer, manager and mentor... he even
had a name ready for
them.

Half Moon Bay Notes:
Copied (without permission) from a March 1975 Pete Frame Family Tree that was
in the centre-fold of a magazine called Zigzag. A later, modified
and up-dated family tree appears in Pete
Frame The Complete Rock Family Trees published by Omnibus Press.
A great book, get it.
The booklet that came with the 1990 Island Collection CD 'Walkin'
With a Mountain' contained notes on the early days by Buffin...
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