In his infinite wisdom, Joel McIver saw fit to interview me about my book on the band for Record Collector’s Deep Purple Special that he edited and which is on sale this week.
Joel and I go back to 2000 when he persuaded me that Omnibus ought to publish a book on Extreme Metal, written by him. Not being a particular fan of this genre, I was skeptical at first but decided to give it a shot, and I’m glad I did. Joel went on to become my go-to author for books on the noisier, more confrontational, end of rock, 36 at the last count, and he now contributes obituaries to the Guardian whenever a metal musician bites the dust.
Joel’s best-known book is Justice For All: The Truth About Metallica, first published in 2004, which has been translated into nine languages. “Very professional,” said drummer Lars Ulrich. “I get asked to sign copies of this book all over the world.” What’s more, Joel has it on good authority that Lou Reed bought a copy of the book to read before embarking on his collaboration with Metallica that resulted in the 2011 album Lulu.
This is a transcript of my interview with Joel for the DP special, which can be bought at: https://recordcollectormag.com/rc-specials/record-collector-presents-deep-purple.
How did you first encounter the members of Deep Purple, Chris?
The first time I saw Deep Purple was at Bedford City’s football ground in the summer of 1970. Until that point, I was unfamiliar from them, apart from the song ‘Hush’, which I’d heard just like everybody had. I met them backstage, and I saw the show, and I thought they were really good.
Which of them impressed you most?
Ritchie Blackmore was particularly impressive. I played a bit of guitar myself so I could recognise a good player. It was obvious to me, watching him, that he’d had some formal training. I thought ‘God, what a terrific guitarist – he ought to be in the same league as Clapton, Beck and Page’. Every note he played was perfect. Not long after that I did an interview with Ritchie, and he told me that he’d had lessons from Big Jim Sullivan, the famous 60s session guy who played on everybody’s hit records. It was obvious that Jon Lord had been classically trained as well.
What happened next?
I got to know them after that, and I saw them seven or eight times over the next two or three years. I went to Paris with them and on a tour in America, where I learned that Ritchie was a bit of a mischievous character. He played tricks and liked to spook people out with horror stories. I thought he was a really interesting fellow, but he had a chip on his shoulder because he wasn’t regarded in the same league as the Claptons and Becks and Pages. Somehow, he wasn’t quite up there, but he deserved to be. We had dinner one night – him and a girlfriend, and me and my girlfriend – and he told me that the only two guitarists he thought were better than him were Jimi Hendrix and Albert Lee. He knew he was as good as Page and the others, and much better than Pete Townshend, although he didn’t have the rhythmic flair that Townshend had.
Why wasn’t he regarded as up there with the greats?
It may have had something to do with tastes and fashions. For all their skills, Deep Purple were never particularly fashionable. I recently discussed this aspect of them with Roger Glover, and he said, ‘I know we weren’t fashionable – that’s why we’re still going. If you’re fashionable, you’re in fashion, and then you’re out of fashion’.
Did you know Purple’s managers?
I got to know John Coletta quite well. Tony Edwards was the money man, and a stay-at-home guy who did the admin, whereas John went on the road. He was a friendly enough guy, but I always felt he was a bit out of his depth, especially dealing with Blackmore.
Was Purple basically an investment project by Edwards and Coletta?
To a certain extent, but it wasn’t until I wrote my book about them that I discovered the truth about how they were financed in the beginning. They needed £15,000 to get off the ground [the equivalent of around £270k today], and Tony Edwards had £5,000 to put in because he had a family clothing business. Coletta didn’t have £5,000, but he had a friend who lived near him in Brighton who was an antique dealer, and he had £10,000 to put in. Unfortunately, it turned out that this antique dealer had a lock-up full of stolen goods, and he was eventually arrested and went to prison. Fortunately, Deep Purple had made some money thanks to ‘Hush’ being a hit in America. They kept this story quiet, as you would imagine, and I didn’t find out about it until I did my book in the 80s.
How did the first edition of your book come about?
I got in touch with Coletta, who managed Whitesnake at that time, and I said to him, ‘Would you co-operate with me on a book on Deep Purple?’ We agreed that Purple would receive a royalty on its sales and through Coletta, I managed to interview most of the members of the previous line-ups. The exceptions were Tommy Bolin, who had died; Rod Evans, because no-one knew where he was; and Blackmore, who completely blanked me, which surprised me. Coverdale said he’d do the interview, but then I got a phone call from some very unpleasant tour manager or PA, demanding conditions that I refused to accept.
Were the others happy to be involved?
They were. I interviewed Ian Paice at his home, and Gillan in a hotel in London, and Roger Glover and Glenn Hughes – both of whom lived in America at the time – kindly answered my questions into a tape recorder. I couldn’t find Nick Simper, but Simon Robinson at the Deep Purple Appreciation Society had done a long interview with Nick that he let me use in the book.
And Jon Lord?
Jon was an unbelievably nice guy – very accommodating, friendly and affable. I spent a night at his house near Henley, and we went out for dinner with his wife Vickie and Ian Paice and his wife Jacky who was the identical twin of Jon’s wife. After that, I did the interview, way into the night: we stayed up until two or three in the morning, drinking whiskey and talking. I really got him to open up about everything, and it was just great, because he didn’t hold back at all.
That must have been refreshing.
Well, at that point, no-one knew that there would be a future for the Purps, so there was nothing to lose by telling it like it was. He told me what he liked and what he didn’t like about the band – everything he could remember. It was Jon who told me the story about the investor who went to jail: afterwards I checked the local newspaper in Brighton, where it had happened, and found the guy’s name.
Lord was a fascinating man, wasn’t he?
He was. Did you know that after he retired, he used to go on the road with John Mortimer, who was a neighbour of his? Mortimer was the writer of Rumpole Of The Bailey, and he would go on book tours and talk about Rumpole for the audiences. Jon would go with him and tinkle away on the piano while Mortimer was telling a story. I didn’t discover this until after he died.
Did the band like your book?
Everybody loved it, I think, apart from Ritchie, because I told a few stories about him in it. There’s a Japanese edition which is very rare, because there was a fire at the printers in Japan and all the plates were destroyed, this being many years before digital publishing. As I say, I did the book on the assumption that Deep Purple would never reform. I had no idea that they would get back together a year after the book came out. That surprised me, but it didn’t make any difference to the book.
Rufus Stone have recently published an updated edition of Deep Purple: The Visual History, available in several luxury versions.
They’ve done a beautiful job of it, with a Standard Edition and a Deluxe Collector’s edition. Both of them are great – I’m really pleased with them. There’s loads more pictures, a completely new design.
You’re now working with Roger Glover on his autobiography. How’s it going?
I’ve been working with him on it for three years now. We’re up to the reunion in 1984. I’ve learned a hell of a lot of interesting stuff. For example, when he was ousted from the band in 1973, it was devastating, because he’d finally found a great band and he was making good money and really enjoying himself. It came out of the blue, because there’d been no animosity, whereas there had been some animosity with Gillan, so in his case they knew it was coming. Roger told me that, after the last gig he did with Purple, Ritchie came up to him and said, ‘Look, no hard feelings, mate. It’s nothing personal: I did it for the band’. Roger said he accepted that, and he didn’t blame Ritchie, but he did blame Paice and Lord, because they didn’t say anything like that – which is why he went off to work with Rainbow. He still had a great deal of admiration for Ritchie, and he still does.
What are your thoughts on Purple’s current Mark IX line-up?
Simon McBride is really good. I went to see them play at the O2 Arena in London just after he’d taken over from Steve Morse. Ian Gillan charted a boat to take all the wives and families and friends to the O2: we all sailed down the Thames, drinking from an open bar, and when we arrived at the back of the arena they ferried us inside in coaches. We hung out backstage and watched the gig, and then went back on the boat. That’s the kind of band that Purple are.
The interview is followed by an extract from my book about the group’s ill-fated visit to Indonesia in early 1976.