OVER the years, as I worked for Radio Clyde and Rock Radio, I've been fortunate enough to meet and interview some of the biggest names in the business, from Robert Plant and Guns N' Roses, Ozzy Osbourne, Genesis, Bon Jovi, Kiss, Meatloaf, Tom Petty, Lemmy from Motorhead, Metallica and Aerosmith, as well as some of the biggest bands to come out of Scotland.
I remember once, while meeting Ozzy, just blinking and thinking, "Bloody hell, I'm a lucky man." It was a party at his house in Little Chalfont, Buckinghamshire, one Sunday. I was fortunate to be invited. It started in the afternoon and finished at night. It wasn't wild. It was all his neighbours, who were probably all millionaires. It was a friendly gathering. His wife Sharon had spent the previous day cooking the party food. There was plenty of drink, too.
Ozzy got a wee bit bored talking about local problems with his neighbours and he said to me, "Hey, Tommy, you got a wee minute?" He took me round the back of the house, where he's converted stables into his den. He said, "This is the one place in the house Sharon doesn't get to see. I've got the only key." It was a typical boy's den: snooker table, dartboard, leather chairs, a fridge with beers and the biggest hi-fi I've ever seen.
He said he was going to play me something that no-one else apart from the record company had heard. He played No More Tears, the title track from his forthcoming album. It was seven minutes long. Ozzy said the record company thought it should be cut to four minutes to get radio play. I said, "Ozzy, it's a classic rock song, mainstream radio wouldn't be interested anyway." Four months later, the single came out, the full seven minutes long.
I've interviewed Elton John and told him my favourite album of his was Goodbye Yellow Brick Road; he admitted he couldn't remember a thing about it as he was on a bottle of brandy a day at the time, plus whatever pills he could get his hands on.
I've been flown to New York and LA on press junkets; I've enjoyed a curry with Geezer Butler of Black Sabbath in Sauchiehall Street. Not every interview is a dream come true – Mick Hucknall was uninterested and not in the least responsive, but as for the rest of the people I've met, they have their ups and downs; they're normal people who just happen to play in a rock group. But it's been an amazing life. I've decided to put it in a book, which has already had an amazing response, not just from Scotland, which is where I've lived and worked, but from further afield, too.
I was lucky. Back in the 1980s and 90s, there were few outlets for classic rock; the bands weren't played on daytime radio or TV apart from the occasional slot on Old Grey Whistle Test; it was easier to get access to the big names than it is nowadays. At the top of the tree it can be hard to get direct access, but there are bands like Def Leppard who are at the top, still playing to 20,000 people a night and selling millions of records; they're a down-to-earth bunch of guys who remember that I supported them 30 years ago, so it's no problem to get to talk to them.
There's an elitist attitude towards classic rock sometimes but what has always impressed me is that rock fans have a real bond. I've seen hardly any trouble at a rock gig in 50 years. You might get a big hairy guy, with a bevvy in him, falling near the front with everybody good-naturedly pushing forward, but the crowd will part and strangers will help him to his feet and make sure he's OK. It's like one big family.
Tom Russell: Godfather of Rock is published by Beard Books, priced £14.99. Visit tomrussellrocks.com
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