Roy Harper: Every Album, Every Song (On Track) Paperback 

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Roy Harper must be one of Britain s most undervalued rock musicians and songwriters. For over fifty years he has produced a series of innovative albums of consistently outstanding quality. He puts poetry and social commentary to music in a way that extends the boundaries of rock music. His 22 studio albums 16 live albums, made up of 250 songs, have created a unique body of work. Roy is a musician s musician. He is lauded by the likes of Dave Gilmour, Ian Anderson, Jimmy Page, Pete Townsend, Joanna Newsom, Fleet Foxes and Kate Bush. Who else could boast that he has had Keith Moon, Jimmy Page, Dave Gilmour, John Paul Jones, Ronnie Lane, Chris Spedding, Bill Bruford and Steve Broughton in his backing band? Notable albums include Stormcock, HQ and Bullinamingvase. Opher Goodwin, Roy s friend and a fan, guides the reader through every album and song, providing insight into the recording of the songs as well the times in which they were recorded. As his loyal and often fanatical fans will attest, Roy has produced a series of epic songs and he remains a raging, uncompromising individual.

Roy Harper: Every Album, Every Song (On Track): Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789521306: Books

Roy Harper – The Early Gigs 1967/68

Posted on by Opher

Roy Harper – The Early Gigs 1967/68

It’s hard to describe the early concerts in those two years as they weren’t really concerts like people were used to. They were events, gatherings, exchanges, sharings.

A concert was a performance. A singer/band would take the stage, present their songs, the audience would applaud, they’d introduce the next number and the musical performance would be appreciated. Roy’s gigs were not like that.

Roy would arrive with his battered guitar case, having hitch-hiked or arrived by train, depending on where, set up on a stool, using the house PA, and begin. No sound checks. No introductions. No appearing out of the wings (there usually weren’t any wings in those little clubs).

When he’s got himself together, played about with the tuning, he’d start with a little maniacal laugh and then proceed into some tale about an event on the way in or something that had caught his attention, with an occasional strum and giggle.

Yes, there was a musician on a stage, and an audience, usually seated on uncomfortable wooden chairs in a small drab hall, but this wasn’t exactly a recital.

Roy treated all his venues as if they were his front room and his audiences as if they were a bunch of friends who had just dropped in. He talked to us as if we were sitting around a table together, whatever came into his head. He explained his poems, talked about current events, thoughts and feelings. Then he’d play a song. Even once he’d started he might stop partway in to share a thought that had come into his head.

Some found this approach frustrating. They had come for the songs, not to hear Roy waffle on. They wanted a more professional performance.

But for me, and the others like me, who cottoned on to the whole unique experience, this was gold dust. Roy’s mind, his thoughts and feelings were every bit as fascinating and insightful as the songs. His ramblings and incisive dissections shone a searchlight of the songs and the events, feelings and thoughts that had led to the creation of the poetry. He was analysing and illuminating society and life in a way that nobody else had ever attempted. Mind blowing. There was nobody like this.

Not only that, but Roy was illuminating thoughts and ideas that had been floating around my head. It felt like he was clarifying and solidifying my own mind.

The ideas and exchanges not only explained the poems, and gave greater meaning and importance to the lyrics, but they sent tendrils of thought out into all aspects of the world around us. His mind was electric and electrifying. Roy’s mind was on fire, flitting here and there, dissecting, expanding and questioning.

No two concerts were ever the same. They depended on his mood. Sometimes there was more banter than song, other times more of a performance.

A Roy Harper gig was more of a sharing than a gig; an insight into a unique mind.

I think a number of us lived in dread that he’d ‘be discovered’ or become ‘famous’. If some promoter/manager took him on board and tidied the act up, removing the banter and making it ‘more professional’, we lose that relaxed sharing.

Not to say that the musical performances were not intense and incredible; they were.

I remember sitting in awe as Roy performed McGoohan’s Blues for the first time. It was an awesome slab of epic social commentary to the most rousing musical energy. It blew us away. The power and intensity; the sheer scale. Dylan was the only one who came close (I always saw It’s Alright Ma,(I’m Only Bleeding) as being the only song that was similar in scope and impact).

That alone was surely worth the entrance?

For me, the St Pancras Town Hall gig in early 1969 felt like the end of that era. Roy had become much more successful. The queues went around the block. The venues were bigger. It had become increasingly difficult to maintain that informal intimacy. Though Roy did not change, the nature of the events, size of the audience, and distances involved between Roy and the audience, created more of a ‘performance’ element. Roy had graduated into a performer, not by choice, by sheer popularity.

Things changed.

Sadly, I’ve never heard any recordings from those early two years. No bootlegs surfaced. They reside in my memory. And, of course, our memories are imperfect, constantly reinvented, inaccurate and prone to subjectivity. In my mind those early gigs were monsters that shook me through to the core.

Extract from Roy Harper: Every Album, Every Song (On Track)

Posted on by Opher

Introduction

Roy Harper is a unique individual and innovative songwriter who took his first uncharacteristically tentative steps into the London folk scene during the mid-sixties.

   Roy was born on the 12th of June 1941 into the middle of World War 2 and sadly his mother died a few days later from mastitis – a common breast infection that is nowadays easily treatable. The loss of his mother has naturally had a lifelong impact on Roy’s personality.

   Roy’s father married again. His stepmother was a strict and religious woman and Roy’s life of rebellion began.

   Roy’s first memory is of being held in someone’s arms looking towards a red glow on the horizon and being told ‘Manchester’s really copping it tonight’.

   Roy was a wayward child and his younger years were marked by him constantly being in trouble at home and school. As a young boy he was found pedalling on his trike towards Liverpool, many miles from home. Roy’s dislike of the religion his stepmother imposed led to him performing pagan ceremonies and burying effigies in his back garden.

   The genteel town of Lytham St Annes where Roy lived, was once described by him as a cemetery with a bus stop. The tedium of life in the drowsy town portrayed a conservative ethos he fought against.

   As Roy moved into his teenage years, minor incidents progressed into more serious crimes. He and a small group of friends alternated between running free in the countryside and taking part in sprees of shoplifting and vandalism. These ranged from stealing chocolates in Woolworth to breaking into Lytham’s cricket pavilion. They drank the booze they found inside the pavilion and then burnt the building to the ground.

   On one occasion Roy and a friend rampaged through the town pulling up freshly planted saplings from along the roadside and then hoisting a weighing machine through the window of the public toilets. Exhausted by their exploits they looked for somewhere to get their heads down and broke into a garage. They fell asleep in a car and were discovered in the morning by the owner who unfortunately happened to be a policeman.

   Continued rebelliousness, including a string of minor offences, culminated with Roy being arrested. He was found guilty of daubing swastikas and a hammer and sickle on the Town Hall – ostensibly a protest aimed at the councillors (who he considered to be a bunch of Nazis) and against the Russian invasion of Hungary. It was sufficient to produce a double spread article with photos in the Daily Mirror.

   This was just the beginning.

   At the age of fifteen, in order to escape from his stepmother and the mayhem he had created, Roy signed up to the Royal Air Force for five years with dreams of becoming a pilot. Life in the RAF was not how he imagined. Roy tried his hand at boxing, which provided some respite, but the unremitting discipline and tedium of life as a serviceman became unbearable. After two years he knew he had to get out. Without the cash to buy his discharge Roy decided to feign madness – not too difficult a task in his case. He was very successful at convincing the military doctors. The RAF discharged him – but only as far as RAF Princess Mary’s mental institution where he was assessed and treated. After being sectioned he was forcibly medicated with strong drugs (lithium and largactyl) and even subjected to ECT (electric shock therapy). Eventually Roy was transferred to Lancaster Moore mental institution where, in order to keep his ‘insanity’, Roy decided he had to escape. Being of slight build he was able to squeeze through a fanlight window and flee. I have a mental image of Roy, wearing one of those gowns that ties at the back, racing across the grass and scaling the wall – although I’m sure it probably wasn’t quite like that.

Introduction

Roy Harper is a unique individual and innovative songwriter who took his first uncharacteristically tentative steps into the London folk scene during the mid-sixties.

   Roy was born on the 12th of June 1941 into the middle of World War 2 and sadly his mother died a few days later from mastitis – a common breast infection that is nowadays easily treatable. The loss of his mother has naturally had a lifelong impact on Roy’s personality.

   Roy’s father married again. His stepmother was a strict and religious woman and Roy’s life of rebellion began.

   Roy’s first memory is of being held in someone’s arms looking towards a red glow on the horizon and being told ‘Manchester’s really copping it tonight’.

   Roy was a wayward child and his younger years were marked by him constantly being in trouble at home and school. As a young boy he was found pedalling on his trike towards Liverpool, many miles from home. Roy’s dislike of the religion his stepmother imposed led to him performing pagan ceremonies and burying effigies in his back garden.

   The genteel town of Lytham St Annes where Roy lived, was once described by him as a cemetery with a bus stop. The tedium of life in the drowsy town portrayed a conservative ethos he fought against.

   As Roy moved into his teenage years, minor incidents progressed into more serious crimes. He and a small group of friends alternated between running free in the countryside and taking part in sprees of shoplifting and vandalism. These ranged from stealing chocolates in Woolworth to breaking into Lytham’s cricket pavilion. They drank the booze they found inside the pavilion and then burnt the building to the ground.

   On one occasion Roy and a friend rampaged through the town pulling up freshly planted saplings from along the roadside and then hoisting a weighing machine through the window of the public toilets. Exhausted by their exploits they looked for somewhere to get their heads down and broke into a garage. They fell asleep in a car and were discovered in the morning by the owner who unfortunately happened to be a policeman.

   Continued rebelliousness, including a string of minor offences, culminated with Roy being arrested. He was found guilty of daubing swastikas and a hammer and sickle on the Town Hall – ostensibly a protest aimed at the councillors (who he considered to be a bunch of Nazis) and against the Russian invasion of Hungary. It was sufficient to produce a double spread article with photos in the Daily Mirror.

   This was just the beginning.

   At the age of fifteen, in order to escape from his stepmother and the mayhem he had created, Roy signed up to the Royal Air Force for five years with dreams of becoming a pilot. Life in the RAF was not how he imagined. Roy tried his hand at boxing, which provided some respite, but the unremitting discipline and tedium of life as a serviceman became unbearable. After two years he knew he had to get out. Without the cash to buy his discharge Roy decided to feign madness – not too difficult a task in his case. He was very successful at convincing the military doctors. The RAF discharged him – but only as far as RAF Princess Mary’s mental institution where he was assessed and treated. After being sectioned he was forcibly medicated with strong drugs (lithium and largactyl) and even subjected to ECT (electric shock therapy). Eventually Roy was transferred to Lancaster Moore mental institution where, in order to keep his ‘insanity’, Roy decided he had to escape. Being of slight build he was able to squeeze through a fanlight window and flee. I have a mental image of Roy, wearing one of those gowns that ties at the back, racing across the grass and scaling the wall – although I’m sure it probably wasn’t quite like that.

Thanks so much for all the brilliant Reviews!! Keep ’em coming!!

Roy Harper: Every Album, Every Song (On Track): Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789521306: Books

Roy Harper – Edinburgh Usher Hall – Photos – in case you get fretful.

Posted on by Opher

Roy Harper

Posted on  by Opher

I’ve just been reminding myself of this great gig!

Well I’m still zinging from seeing Roy perform with such brilliance after a three year enforced lay-off. He has lost none of his voice or power and the song arrangements were superb.

I hope he is back home with renewed energy and enthusiasm for a new album and another great tour.

In case you, like me, are fretful – here’s a few photos:      

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