Kenny Dentons" There Ain't No Rules In Rock n Roll" Stories From My 45 Years in The Music Industry.

Patrick was a tall, elegant Irishman and what one would call a dapper dresser with the ability to speak at a volume most people couldn't even shout at. Many believed this was due to a slight hearing impediment, though he would never admit to it. Malynn was commonly known in the industry as Paddy Malynn, but if someone made the mistake of calling him Paddy to his face, he would go ballistic. During a phone conversation with him one day, I attempted to address him as Patrick but the moment I uttered “Pat,” he began talking over me, mistakenly believing I had said “Pad,” he promptly hung up. His touchiness was a recurring trait over the years with this remarkable, larger-than-life character. One of my cherished tales featuring Paddy, oops, I mean Patrick, unfolded when my wife Sue and I received an invitation to dine with him at his preferred restaurant. Our rendezvous point was his top-floor apartment in Clifton Gardens, Maida Vale. The residence was comfortably furnished, its walls were adorned with valuable paintings by renowned artists. We were scheduled to convene at his flat at 8 p.m. on that Saturday evening. On our arrival, Patrick promptly inquired about our drink preferences. Sue responded, “I'll have a glass of medium white wine, please. "Suzie, I only have champagne. What type of champagne would you prefer?” he replied, in a characteristically extravagant manner. The TV was on, and Dallas was playing in the background. Patrick, fixated on the screen, speculated several times about the favours he could offer the more glamorous female cast members. While intermittently gazing out the window, he shared that his girlfriend had been at his apartment for the past 24 hours and she had to return home this afternoon to rest due to complete exhaustion. His insinuations implying that the past 24 hours had been a continuous indulgence in physical pleasure. For the subsequent hour, Patrick maintained a watchful eye out of the window, reiterating his narrative about his girlfriend's exhaustion and emphasising,"If she doesn't arrive within the next ten minutes, we'll have to go; otherwise, we risk losing our restaurant table reservation.” Ten more minutes elapsed until Patrick at last declared, “Well, that’s it let's go. Leave your car here, we'll take my Rolls-Royce.” As Patrick locked his apartment door, I went ahead, down the stairs with Sue following closely behind. Once we reached the ground floor and opened the main front door, we encountered a stunning lady adorned in a mink coat, her finger poised to press one of the doorbells. She gazed at me saying, “Hello, are you Mr. Malynn? I'm your escort for the evening.” Patrick's hurried descent down the stairs could be heard as I responded, “I believe Mr. Malynn will be here any moment.” Patrick, arriving behind me at the front door, appeared flustered and evidently embarrassed as he urged, “Kenny, take your car and follow me.” It was apparent that Patrick's sudden change of plans regarding transportation was motivated by the need to privately explain to the young lady the events of their eventful last 24 hours together. Although we arrived at the restaurant a bit late, our table wasn't ready, so we took a seat in the bar and perused the menu. Patrick and the young lady skilfully maintained the facade of being long-time friends when Mario, the maître d', approached to greet Patrick. "Hello, Patrick, how are you?” Mario asked, shaking Patrick's hand. Patrick promptly introduced the rest of us to the maître d', who proceeded to playfully touch the top of Patrick's head, messing with his hair. In a booming voice, Mario exclaimed, “This is incredible Patrick! My friend had a similar procedure and his head was swollen for weeks, but yours... it's remarkable, Patrick, it looks so real the best I've ever seen no one would ever know.” This incident marked the first and only time I witnessed Patrick rendered speechless.

Place -Studio Two, Pye Recording Studios, LondonTime – 1970Guest visitor – Diana DorsDiana Dors, born Diana Fluck, was Britain’s answer to Marilyn Monroe. Her likeness appears on the cover of the Beatles album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. After her death in 1984 she was acclaimed as a national treasure.Talking about her real name she once said,“They asked me to change my name. I suppose they were afraid that if my real name, Diana Fluck, was in lights, and one of the lights blew…”Whilst working on a session in studio two with Dave Hunt and the producer Miki Dallon, who was working on an album with the artist Don Fardon, Diana Dors called in to see Don.During a break in recording Diana told the following story from her early days.After returning to England from Hollywood many years before, she was invited back to her hometown of Swindon, to be honoured by the Mayor in a ceremony to celebrate her achievements in the movie industry.He was to open his speech with,“We are here today so we can welcome back from Hollywood and honour a truly unique star, the World knows her as Diana Dors but to us she will always remain our very own, Diana Fluck.”At this point Diana now rising from her chair said,“The speech actually went like this. The Mayor, who was slightly nervous of making the obvious mistake said, we are here today so we can welcome back from Hollywood and honour a truly unique star, the World knows her as Diana Dors, but to us she will always remain our very own, DIANA CLUNT.”We all collapsed with laughter, I could see Diana enjoyed telling the story as, I am sure, she had done many times before.I only wished someone at the time had asked her what her reaction was on that day.

From Kenny Denton's memoir "There Ain't No Rules In Rock n Roll"In the mid to late 70s, should you have been working at the legendary studio De Lane Lee/CTS in Wembley after 5.30pm or on weekends, you would be greeted at the front desk by the security guard known as Albert Agras. Albert was a wonderful likeable person with large cartoon type characteristics; highlighted with a nose that was a similar shape, but twice the size of the actor Karl Malden.Albert was a compulsive gambler and believed he was truly a master orator and a true oracle on the universe and all within it.Should the last session finish before midnight he would head directly to the Victoria Casino in London, and mostly lose whatever money he had. On one rare occasion he had a large win. On returning to his home at around 2am, Albert awoke his wife to tell her of his good fortune and that the new kitchen she had wanted for so long could be ordered the next day. Not being able to go back to sleep due to the adrenalin of his lucky streak racing through his veins, he got up got dressed and returned to the casino, where of course he lost all of his earlier winnings. The next morning at breakfast Albert’s wife was ecstatic with the news of his win and wanted to order the kitchen immediately. Albert, down a hole of no return, inquisitively remarked,“Winnings? kitchen? I have no idea what you are talking about, you must have been dreaming.”Donald SutherlandAlbert decides to give Mr. Sutherland the Canadian actor whose film career spanned more than fifty five years some of his Worldly wise knowledge.Sutherland rose to fame after starring in films such as The Dirty Dozen, M*A*S*H, Kelly’s Heroes and Klute.He continued to star in hit movies including The Eagle Has Landed, National Lampoon’s Animal House, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, JFK and The Hunger Games to mention just a few.In 1979 Jerry Goldsmith was given the responsibility of recording the music for the movie The First Great Train Robbery, starring Sutherland. Even with such a rich history of life nothing could have prepared him for a meeting with Albert the Oracle.One evening I arrived late at the studio, I went to the reception desk to check if there were any messages left for me, they were always pinned on the message board.Sutherland, a giant of a man, was leaning on the reception desk speaking to someone on the phone.As he finished the call, I overheard Albert engaging him in conversation.I wasn’t aware of the conversation between them both before I arrived, but I could now hear Albert referring to Sutherland as Oddball, the character Sutherland played in the movie Kelly’s Heroes.Albert, with his all knowing and authoritative voice said,“Oddball, let me tell you this, there are only two types of people in this world.”Sutherland, looked mystified as Albert continued speaking and said,Yep, BIG WANKERS and LITTLE WANKERS!”I was dumbfounded by this and although it was hard to gage Sutherlands reaction, I think it was one of complete bewilderment, naturally.Many famous artists whilst at the studio were exposed to Albert’s worldly-wise utterances.

Kinky Friedman, The Lone Star New York "Too Much Ain't Enough "The Full Story In Kenny Denton's memoir "There Ain't No Rules In Rock n Roll" Kinky Friedman was a Texas country singer, novelist, songwriter, humorist, and politician. “I support gay marriage because I believe they have right to be just as miserable as the rest of us.” Kinky Friedman, the Texas folk hero known for his flamboyant career as a singer-songwriter, satirist, raconteur, and one-time gubernatorial candidate in 2006—during which he humorously claimed to be “pro-football” rather than pro-life or pro-choice—died on June 26 2024 at Echo Hill, his ranch near Medina, Texas. He was 79. In the early 80s and whilst on a trip to New York I read a review about a bar in town called The Lone Star Cafe. It seems that The Lone Star was a haven for Texas-style bad behaviour in New York City. It was a raucous, often-overcrowded place with free-flowing tequila, a pretty good barbecue and boasted a roster of great performers such as Willie Nelson and Roy Orbison.This sounded like an irresistible evening. On arriving at The Lone Star, the outside of the building looked somewhat out of place in this swanky part of town. The roof was decorated with a huge forty-foot statue of an iguana and a sign below that read, “Too Much Ain’t Enough.” The inside was much smaller than I expected. The bar area was crowded so I made my way upstairs where there were some tables behind a circular balcony, this overlooked the undersized step-on stage below. Appearing that night was Kinky Friedman & The Texas Jew boys.I found myself a good table almost overlooking the stage and whilst waiting for Kinky to arrive I ordered a beer and some food. On the next table was a young couple. I could hear the young man continuously raving to his lady friend about Kinky Friedman and what a great show we were about to see, he sounded like he was Kinky’s biggest fan. This continued until Kinky and his band arrived on stage. Having finished my meal, with my arms crossed leaning on the balcony, I had a perfect view as the band stepped on stage to a rapturous welcome. They forged into their first number They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Anymore. At the end of the first number, as the applause was dying down, Kinky lit a huge cigar and proceeded to insult various members of the audience, which seemed to go down very well with everyone except the people he was offending. This monologue was only broken every minute or so by Kinky taking a big puff on his cigar and telling everyone if they wanted to see a great show come to 53rd and 3rd the following Friday. After about ten minutes and for the umpteen time of Kinky telling everyone if they wanted to see a great show, he would be appearing at 53rd and 3rd on the following Friday, the young man on the next table lunged out of the dark and shouted, ”How about a fucking show tonight?” And disappeared back into the darkness as quick as he had appeared. I was still in my crossed arms position leaning on the balcony when Kinky looked in my direction, our eyes met with laser precision. At this point he proceeded to take off his guitar and still looking straight at me said, “Someone up there don’t like me.” Now everyone in the place was focused on me. At this point a voice from downstairs in the audience shouted, I don’t like you either Kinky.” The place erupted but within seconds the same guy screamed out, “Cause Kinky I love ya!” The crowd went crazy. I now noticed the couple on the next table seemed to have left a little earlier than they had planned. There was no way to make it known that the real rebel amongst us had, in true Elvis tradition, left the building. I decided to retire into the darkness and look for the nearest exit.. I assume the slogan outside “Too Much Ain’t Enough” only applied to Texans. I had definitely had enough of good old Texas hospitality for one evening.

Jack Fishman was a songwriter, journalist, spy catcher, and bestselling author whose career spanned music, film, and investigative reporting. As a songwriter, he co-wrote major hits including If Paradise Is Half as Nice, If I Only Had Time, and Help Yourself, with total record sales exceeding ten million. A tireless workaholic, he was also credited with exposing Kim Philby, one of the Cold War’s most notorious spies. Because British libel laws blocked publication of the story in the UK, Fishman worked with contacts at the New York Daily News to break it in the United States. Fishman also managed the gifted composer Roy Budd, collaborating with him on film themes for Soldier Blue and Get Carter. Knowing there was virtually no music budget for Get Carter, Jack persuaded a reluctant Budd to compose and perform the score with his trio for expenses only. The gamble paid off: the soundtrack became a cult classic and propelled Budd toward major film success. I first met Jack when he booked studio time to edit the quarter-inch master tape of the Get Carter soundtrack album. I knew of him by reputation—he was in his late forties, slim, with receding hair and an intense manner of speaking. Midway through the session, I offered to fetch tea and sandwiches from a nearby café. Jack insisted on paying. Despite earning far more than my £7/10 a week, he handed me a single shilling—5p—though tea cost around 7p and sandwiches about 10p. Too embarrassed to correct him, I accepted the coin, made up the difference myself, and returned with the order, even giving him tuppence change. In later years we worked together often, became good friends, and even wrote songs. In 1973, after returning from America, Jack excitedly told me about The Sting, which featured The Entertainer by Scott Joplin. Unable to secure the European rights, Jack booked studio time and had Roy Budd record a cover of the hit arrangement by Marvin Hamlisch. Budd preferred not to use his own name, so Jack invented the credit “The Ragtimers” and secured a rush release on Pye Records. Since Joplin had died more than fifty years earlier, the composition was in the public domain. On Jack’s release, the writing credit read “Joplin and Fishman,” not “Joplin and Hamlisch” as in the U.S. version. The record quickly climbed the charts, alarming the American company preparing to release Hamlisch’s recording with the film. Furious at Fishman’s claim to a share of the credit, they launched legal action—only to discover they were effectively suing Leeds Music, a publishing company they themselves owned. With no practical alternative, they paid Jack his royalties in full. Shrewd, relentless, and commercially astute, Jack Fishman had a formidable business instinct, always determined to maximise his percentage in every deal.Read The Full Story Is In My Book " There Ain't No Rules In Rock n Roll"Thank for taking the time to visit my Podcast. Kenny Denton

This Deep Dive is only an overview the full more in depth story is in my book "There Ain't No Rules In Rock n RollTommy Boyce was a wonderful complex character. So I wanted to capture the time I spent with him, without understating or exaggerating who he was. On completing my story, I contacted Caroline Boyce and asked her if she would be kind enough to read through my text and said if she wanted anything changed, to let me know. I also said, I would not publish if she was unhappy in anyway. I was so overwhelmed when I received Caroline’s endorsement, which confirmed I had captured the essence of Tommy. Caroline’s reply"Hi Kenny “OH MY GOD … You had me laughing out loud as it wasn’t hard to visualize this at all; he was exactly like that in real life too and would give you the shirt “literally” off his back … life was magical, exciting and a performance and it was wonderful to experience the world through his eyes. This touched me sooooooooooooooooo much; well written really capturing the essence of Tommy thanks so very much for sharing this with me I absolutely loved reading it and it brought back some funny and super fond memories of Tommy; he truly was one of a kind with a giving heart that surpassed anyone’s I’ve ever known. He is so sadly missed so thanks for helping to keep his memory and legacy alive Thanks again, and have a happy holiday season and keep me posted xoxo”Tommy Boyce’s first big success as a writer was Be My Guest for Fats Domino. Then in 1961 with Curtis Lee he co-wrote, Under The Moon of Love and Pretty Little Angel Eyes, which were produced by the legendary Phil Spector. In 1964 Tommy teamed up with Bobby Hart and had their first hit together with Lazy Elsie Molly by Chubby Checker, closely followed by Jay and the Americans’ Come A Little Bit Closer, a top 10 record later in the same year. In 1966 they recorded the demos for the pilot of a new TV show called The Monkees. TV producers Bert Schneider and Bob Rafelson had the idea of casting a rock ‘n’ roll band that could star in its own weekly television series. Schneider and Rafelson placed an advert in Variety looking for four young men who would be selected to serve as members of the band: Michael Nesmith, Peter Tork, Davy Jones and Micky Dolenz all passed the auditions. There is a rumour that Charles Manson was one of the applicants that were turned down at the auditions, this is not true. The infamous Manson dabbled in writing songs and his musical career gained some notoriety after The Beach Boys and Guns ‘n’ Roses recorded songs he had written. Boyce and Hart were hired to write several songs and record the backing tracks and vocals for the band’s first album titled The Monkees. Davy, Micky, Peter and Michael replaced their vocals later Boyce and Hart went on to write over 300 songs and sell more than 42-million records.

“I taught them everything they know, but not everything I know.” James Brown. I was on the rebound from my Cajun experience when an associate, Laurie Jay, asked me if I would meet with a couple of girl singers. He was thinking of offering them a management deal and asked me if, assuming I liked their material, I would produce some tracks he could to play to a record company in order to obtain a deal. He told me should a record company be interested I would get the job of producing the album. Laurie had started his career as a drummer playing with The Shadows, The Echoes (1960-62), Dusty Springfield, Chuck Berry, Gene Vincent and Jerry Lee Lewis, he also fronted Laurie Jay combo (1962-1965). He later went on to manage Elkie Brooks, Billy Ocean and Shirley Bassey. Most people that had worked with him would say he was difficult to work with, something I found out for myself, but he was a true character and really did have a great ear for talent. The girls, Shelly and Karen Poole came to my studio for a meeting and introduced themselves. We all got on really well and discussed what kind of music we liked and chatted about life in general. I told them of my recent upset with my Cajun artist, “How could he do that to you?” Karen asked.I wish I had had a crystal ball, I would have told them, You’ll both do the same to me in a couple of years.” The girls were very pretty and full of charm with fabulous singing voices although the demos they played were very amateurish. The Plan I decided to choose and work on just one song, it was called Natural Thing. Next it was contacting my good friend and music programmer, the very talented Danny Saxon. Danny and I had teamed up a few years before, writing and recording with many varied artists such as Anthony Newley and Fleetwood Mac’s Peter Green. Danny was a key ingredient, with his musical talent and programming skills, he was instrumental (excuse the pun) to all my Cajun recordings. We had written many great songs and worked really well together for many years. I called Danny and told him about Laurie’s new act and the overal plan but warned him that there was no budget. He also knew Laurie very well and was slightly cautious. But Danny was a good friend and, despite his misgivings, agreed to work with me on the recording. Within the next few weeks, we had completed the track and everyone seemed very pleased. Silence Then everything went silent and around a year passed with only minimal contact from the girls or their management. Eventually Karen phoned and asked if she and her sister could come and have a meeting. In the meeting they revealed that they were very frustrated with their management and desperately wanted to get back in the studio to record some new tracks. They brought along a cassette with three demo songs recorded on a four-track cassette machine at home by Karen’s boyfriend Terry. The recordings were, as you would expect, very poor, but the songs had something very special.There was one great lyric in one of the songs that really knocked me out – Dreaming With A Capital D. I contacted Danny again to tell him the girls had called me and wanted our help. I explained that I really believed in the girls and their new material. I was sure that we would get them a record deal and we would all share in the success. After listening to the demo Danny really didn’t share the same excitement for the project as I did However, once again, his belief was in me rather than the girls so he agreed to work with me on the project for free. Another freebie & Getting a deal: The Full Story In My Book "There Ain't No Rules In Rock n Roll"

Finding an A&R Person. Finding an A&R person in any record company, who believes in your product as much as you do, is a rare commodity to say the least. I have never heard of any artist being signed to a label on their first approach to a label. George Martin and EMI, like every other label at that time, had previously turned down The Beatles. When Brian Epstein approached Martin again, he convinced him that if he signed the band, with his record shop connections, he could guarantee he could fix a chart entry. Although “Love Me Do” only reached number seventeen in the UK chart, Epstein had kept his word. Finding Someone Who Believes. Between the years 1978 and 1979, I had spent around £15000 of my own money, recording an album with an artist whom I truly believed in. I tried various record companies, but sadly I could not find anyone who shared my enthusiasm for the product. That was until I ran into my old friend and once manager, Dave Meyers. Meyers listened to the album and loved it; he was surprised that I was unable to create any record company interest. I told him so far everyone had turned it down. He told me, “You must be going about it the wrong way; give me six weeks and I’ll get you a deal and get your money back.” Even though I knew Dave was a bit of a bullshitter, he had a charm that was irresistible, a real-life Svengali. Anyone that had ever been involved with him, would tell you the same. I must admit that the thought of any reimbursement of my investment and a release for the product sounded very attractive.Now, the Split. Meyers set about explaining how he would go about getting the deal. His immediate investment would be in the region of three to four thousand pounds. Once we had received an advance from a record company, he wanted his money back first, my investment would be repaid second and then the artist would receive his payment. All other profits after that from sales would be split; half to the artist, the remainder being split equally between Dave and me, in perpetuity. How the Deal Would be Achieved. Dave would arrange meetings with all the A&R departments heads every PolyGram Record company throughout Europe. He would start in France, then on to Belgium, Holland, Spain until all had been visited. The journey would end with a meeting with the MD, Mr. Odo von Stein, the head Of Deutsche Grammophon and PolyGram in Germany. At each of the previous meetings along the way, he played one or two tracks from the album, then left a cassette copy of the entire album for them to listen to at their leisure. Crucially he would tell them that Odo, in Germany, loved the album and he would be contacting them soon for their reaction. Clinching the deal. Dave set off on his journey, visiting each country, playing the A&R heads the songs and finally arriving in Germany for his meeting with Odo von Stein. He played the tunes to Odo then cleverly told him that every European PolyGram Company wanted to sign this artist and on that basis that he was looking for a very substantial deal. Meyers urged Odo to listen to the whole album then telex (the old fashioned email) all of the European offices and ask for their reaction to this product. Meyers then arranged a second meeting in a few week’s time, giving Odo time to contact the various PolyGram territories. Odo did as Meyers suggested and contacted his A&R departments throughout Europe As they had already been told that Odo loved the album they were desperate not to offend the head of their organisation. Every A&R department, without exception, telexed Odo back with an in-depth review, saying they thought the album was sensational and that they wanted to release it as soon as possible. Finalising the deal. Dave returned to Germany for his second meeting with Odo to negotiate the deal.

https://youtu.be/7IBVBw3-Wxo?si=v0APnkEe_RM6DtvC Augie Meyers, renowned in Texas music lore, gained fame as the keyboardist for both The Sir Douglas Quintet and The Texas Tornados. BOB DYLAN once said of Augie. “Augie’s my man, he’s like an intellectual who goes fishing using bookworms. Seriously though he’s the shining example of a musician, Vox player or otherwise, who can break the code. His playing speaks volumes, speaks in tongues actually. He can bring a song, certainly any one of mine, into the real world. I’ve loved his playing going all the way back to the Sir Doug days. What makes him so great is that internally speaking, he’s the master of syncopation and timing and this is something that cannot be taught. If you need someone to get you through the shipping lanes and there’s no detour, Augie will get you right straight through. Augie’s your man.” In 1981, I found myself producing an album at Pye Studios in London for Sonet Records, Sweden when an interesting opportunity arose. The record company informed me that one of their artistes, Augie Meyers, a talented American artiste known for his keyboard and accordion skills, was passing through London. They inquired if there was a way to involve him in the album I was working on. Despite our tight budget and schedule. The record company was persistent, offering to cover any extra costs and studio time. Intrigued, I contacted Augie and invited him to the studio for the following day. The next afternoon the control room door swung open. In walked a towering six-foot-two Texan, Augie Meyers, with his accordion in hand. He greeted us with a simple, “Hi, I'm Augie Meyers, am I in the right place?” Augie entered the room with a slight limp, his weathered face revealing a life rich in experiences. Beneath his Stetson hat, a three-foot ponytail cascaded down his back like a dookie rope. Little did I know then that this encounter would mark the beginning of a deep friendship, making Augie an honorary member of my family to this very day. Following a cordial “howdy,” Augie retrieved his accordion from its case and began playing along with the track in the control room. To my astonishment, the instrument's tone and Augie's skilled performance harmonised perfectly with the track.. Augie ventured down into the studio and we began rehearsing with the track playing. During the initial run-through, Augie voiced his frustration about his headphones only working in one ear. I promptly had the assistant swap them out for a different pair. On the second take, the same issue persisted. “I can still only hear the track in one ear,” Augie informed me again. Concerned, I had the assistant change the headphones once more. Once again, on the third take, the problem recurred. Frustrated, I descended into the studio, donned a further set of headphones and had the assistant run the tape. Finally, I confirmed that the headphones were working flawlessly on both sides and handed my functional set to Augie. He put them on, glanced at me and remarked, “Nope, still only working on one side,” before promptly returning them. I couldn’t understand what was going on, I had just tested them myself and they were functioning perfectly on both sides. “Augie,” I said, puzzled, “They’re working on both sides.” “Oh, it's okay, Kenny, it must be me,” He then swept his hair back from over his ear, revealing to my astonishment that he was missing an ear. This marked my initial encounter with Mr. Meyers' wonderful sense of humour. Later, I learned that his limp and the absence of his ear were the result of his battle with polio during childhood. My initial reservations about having Augie participate in the recording turned out to be entirely unfounded.

Joe Sun was a respected American country singer-songwriter who recorded for Ovation and Elektra Records, placing 14 singles on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart. Over his career he released 15 albums, toured the USA and Europe, voiced national Budweiser radio ads, produced two Grammy-nominated foreign albums (1989/90), and appeared as Tommy Fratter in the film Marie alongside Sissy Spacek and Morgan Freeman.I first met Joe in Nashville in 1984 after Sonet asked me to produce an album with him. True to form, he arrived at my hotel room and immediately challenged me: “What does an English guy like you know about country music?” I replied, “Not as much as you — but my job is to bring out the best in you.” That set the tone for a relationship that was productive, if occasionally strained.The next day he played me his songs. I heard echoes of Jerry Reed — who famously wrote “Guitar Man” and “U.S. Male” for Elvis Presley — and while Joe confidently declared each song “one hell of a great song,” I felt some were stronger than others. Still, there was solid material.That evening Joe took me to The Bluebird Cafe in Nashville’s Green Hills. Before performing, he spoke at length about his past successes. Onstage, however, he delivered well and the audience responded warmly. During the break, I was confronted by an aggressive patron who announced he felt like punching me. Using humour rather than confrontation, I managed to defuse the situation — with no help from Joe, who had discreetly distanced himself. Looking back, I sometimes wondered if it had been a test.We booked sessions at Glaser Sound Studios in Nashville. Joe had rehearsed with his band, Solar System, yet on recording day I discovered he had hired top Nashville session players instead. “The record has to feature big names,” he insisted. It meant starting from scratch. After replacing an unsuitable engineer and dealing with scheduling chaos, we completed the basic tracks and vocals. Visiting Texas musician Augie Myers joined us, though local players were less than welcoming.I later persuaded Joe to bring in his own band for backing vocals — they were grateful simply to be included. But creative differences persisted. I told Sonet I couldn’t continue in Nashville and proposed finishing the album in London with Joe’s band. They agreed.Recording at Sonet’s London studio was far smoother. Without Nashville politics or ego clashes, Joe and the band worked professionally, and the album — titled The Sun Never Sets — came together well.Mixing at Park Studios in Sweden nearly ended in catastrophe. While editing late one night, I accidentally erased Joe’s entire harmonica solo on “The Light That Shines the Brightest.” With Joe in Nashville, re-recording wasn’t possible. I painstakingly constructed a new solo from fragments elsewhere in the track. To my immense relief, Joe never noticed.The album achieved modest chart success with the single “Bad for Me,” though it was far from a major hit. Listening back years later, I realised it was better than I’d remembered. Still, I’ve often wondered whether our difficult first meeting shaped the project’s outcome. Unlike many artists I’ve worked with, Joe and I never stayed in touch after its completion.Joe Sun passed away on October 25, 2019, in Palm Bay, Florida — perhaps finally reaching the place where the sun never sets.

Mungo’ Jerry's greatest triumph was with the track “In the Summertime” which dominated the UK charts for seven weeks during the early 1970s. Additionally, this song clinched the number one position in 26 countries globally. Their subsequent release, “Baby Jump” also claimed the top spot in the UK and maintained its position for two weeks. Initially known as The Good Earth, the band underwent a name transformation to Mungo Jerry on the insistence of Pye’s new label - Dawn Records. Terry Evennett served as the recording engineer for the project and Barry Murray as both the band's producer and label manager. Barry played a pivotal role in the band’s success. While he was initially working on new album tracks, he made the decision to mix a single for an immediate release, with Terry already committed to another recording session, Howard Barrow stepped in to handle the mixing. Barry was unwavering in his insistence, much to the band's displeasure, that the single should be “In the Summertime.” The only challenge was that the recording itself was a mere two minutes long. Howard came up with an innovative idea to solve the problem. He extended a microphone cable from the studio all the way to his Triumph TR6 Roadster parked on the ramp outside the building, placing a microphone near the exhaust. Around ten seconds of the car's revving engine noise were recorded and seamlessly added to the end of the two-minute track. He then edited the entire song back in from the beginning after the engine sound. The edited track could now be faded out at three minutes and 30 seconds, creating the final version. This unconventional approach marked the debut release on the newly established Dawn label. Barry had devised a clever strategy when launching the record, releasing it on a maxi-single. Essentially, this format was akin to an EP, containing three to four tracks played at 33 1/3 rpm. It would be packaged in a picture sleeve and priced slightly higher than a standard 45 rpm single. On release the record skyrocketed to the number one spot, reigning for a remarkable seven weeks and ushering in the era of Mungo Mania. What struck me as curious was that, apart from the lead singer Ray Dorset, the remaining band members still maintained their day jobs. When I queried guitar player Paul King about his continued employment, he offered the response, “Who knows how long this will all last?” I never established whether he referred to the chart success or the dynamics within the band. With each subsequent recording session, the growing tension between Ray and the rest of the group became increasingly evident. Ray basked in the praise from the press and fans, seemingly starting to believe that “Mungo Mania” was solely attributable to his efforts. During one session, Ray rushed into the studio, brandishing a children's music songbook that featured “In the Summertime” among its contents. His excitement inadvertently or perhaps deliberately irritated the rest of the band as he raved about it nonstop. A calmly composed Barry Murray, leisurely enjoying his peanut butter and banana sandwich, astutely pointed out the oddity of a children's songbook incorporating the lyrics “When the sun goes down, you can make it, make it good in a lay-by.” That shut Ray up for a bit, much to the band’s delight.

My relationship with Sonet Records in Sweden gave me the opportunity to work with Rockin' Dopsie. I also got to produce the Queen Ida album On A Saturday Night, Queen. Both Dopsie and Ida were seasoned artists in this foot-stomping, body-moving music. In 1992 I had an idea. I wanted to find a young Louisiana musician or band and mix the traditional Cajun music from Louisiana with a more modern computer-based recording style aimed at the younger record buying public. With naivety still playing a big part in my life I set off and headed to Southwest Louisiana to search the clubs and bars for a likely candidate. Rather than go straight to Louisiana I first stopped off in Austin, Texas to spend a few days with some good friends. I explained my idea to my Texas pals but they showed some serious trepidation about my safety, travelling into Cajun country by myself. To ease their concerns, I promised I would call them each day to confirm all was well I set off for Louisiana and headed for Mamou, a small town reputed to be the Cajun capital of the world, I hoped this would be the perfect place to start my search for a young artist. I arrived in Mamuo around 7.30 on a Saturday evening; it was like a ghost town waiting for a ghost. I found Fred’s Lounge Bar on Sixth Street and Chestnut, this was the place where it was all supposed to happen, the hub of the Mamou Cajun scene. On arriving at the bar, I stopped the car and looked out the window only to find to my dismay that Fred's was closed. Apparently, this musical feast started early on a Saturday morning and ended around lunchtime. As I cruised through the town in my brand-new red Chevrolet hire car the few people that were around were staring at me, this highly conspicuous stranger in their midst. I stood out like a rare steak on a vegetarian’s plate. This was making me feel quite uneasy, Mamuo really didn’t feel exactly alive with hospitality. With Fred’s lounge closed for the day and feeling tired, I decided to it was time to find somewhere to stay for the night but the only building I could locate claiming to be a hotel was a dilapidated two-storey hovel. With my sense of adventure and my overwhelming tiredness outweighing my common sense, I took a deep breath and decided I would stay there for the night. As I approached the entrance it was with mixed emotions I discovered it too was closed. Nearby there was a shop with a sign that said, "Honk and Go," it was a drive-in store where you just honked your car horn and someone from the store would come and serve you. I honked, I ordered a coke and a pack of cigarettes and asked the guy if there was a hotel locally, “Wont somewar carlean?” he replied. “I certainly do” I replied, “Wheell l i b, ya hav tar heyd bak ta Lafayette." As dusk was descending this seemed like a very good idea. Just as I was leaving, I spotted another bar, it looked promising, proclaiming to have live music. Unfortunately with all the pickup trucks and their rifles hanging in the back windows coupled with nightfall about to arrive, my enthusiasm to enter the nightlife of Mamuo was somewhat curbed. Heading back to the interstate I was totally absorbed in the music pumping from my car radio, but I did I notice in front of me a large pickup truck. There were three locals standing up in the back of the truck and I could see the customary rifle swinging in the rear window. The three men started making gestures and shouting in my direction, they looked about as friendly as a shark with a leg in its mouth. I had no desire to overtake them so I tried to keep my distance but as soon as I slowed down so did they. After what seemed like a lifetime of cat and mouse, they took a left turn off the road and with a huge sigh of relief I put the pedal to the metal until I arrived in Lafayette. It was only now the reality, danger and insanity of the task I was attempting began to dawn on me.

One evening the session had finished early and everyone else had left, this was due to Gigi having to go for a photo session. I remained in the control room making a couple of phone calls, when Jimmy arrived wondering where everybody was. I explained where Gigi had gone and that she wouldn’t be back that evening. Jimmy asked if I wasn’t busy would I like to go for a drink, I jumped at the chance, and we headed for the local watering hole. On entering the bar Jimmy asked what I would like to drink, I insisted on buying the first round explaining that many years before he had helped pay for a breakfast for me. Looking very bewildered, knowing that we had never met before these sessions, he went and sat down, and I brought the drinks over. Jimmy’s first question was, “What was that about a breakfast?” I explained to him that when I was a kid, I hitchhiked with a couple of friends to a place called Southend-on-Sea. We spent nearly all of our money having a good time, then spent the night sleeping in a bus shelter. Early the next morning my friends decided to hitch back to London but I wanted to spend a bit more time there, it felt like being on holiday. I was starving but the few pence I had left was nowhere near enough to get any food. I sat outside one of the arcades, which had a machine with six movie stars photos on. Each movie star had a winning amount. The two highest payouts were Ava Gardner this was a 10 pence pay-out, and James Garner was the jackpot, 12 pence. A light would flash very fast behind each photo and stop at random on one of the pictures, if you could guess which star the light would stop on you would win. I sat staring at the photos on this machine for a long time, wondering what it must be like to be a movie star, when I noticed the machine wasn’t so random after all. A sequence was occurring. Every five minutes the light would stop twice on Ava, always after the second stop on Ava, the very next stop was the jackpot, James. I invested a penny in the theory, and within the next hour I made more than enough to have a big breakfast and get a bus back to London. Having listened to my story Jimmy said jokingly, ‘Well it looks like the rest of the nights on you”. The rest of the evening was just fantastic talking about movies, music and life. I mentioned one of my favourite films, which he had made, was Skin Game with Louis Gossett, Jr. and Susan Clark. He told me he’d seen it for the first time in ages a few nights before on TV in his hotel room. When talking about music I mentioned how much I loved country music and Nashville. Apparently one of his best friends was Waylon Jennings. Jimmy said, “Let’s go back to the studio and get to a phone, I’ll give him a call”. “Jimmy, I would have no idea what to say to him but thank you anyway”. Today I wished I had. The evening sadly came to a close, but it would be something I would remember all my life. Looking back, the only other thing was I wished I had asked of Jimmy, and I know he would have had no problem doing it for me, was to let me record him for my answering machine message. How cool would it have been to have James Garner on my answering machine saying, “Hi this is Jim Rockford, Kenny can’t get to the phone right now so please leave a message?”Unbeknown to me, Jimmy had spoken to Blake Edwards, the Director of the movie Victor Victoria and recommended that I take over the recording of the music. This was of course a very kind gesture, but that was not the way the engineer at the time, John Richards, saw it. I adored John he really was the best in his field. It took me sometime to assure him that I was not trying to encroach on his territory. For the full story There Ain't No Rules In Rock n Roll" Stories From My 45 Years in The Music Industry.

The Pye Mobile was booked to record the entire Isle of Wight festival. We got there on Monday 25th of August and on arriving went to check out the site but didn’t start fully setting up until Wednesday 26th of August. Judas Jump were already performing and Neville and Alan were busy on stage setting up mics whilst Vic and I were in the truck checking that mic feeds were arriving to the desk correctly. There was a hard-wired onstage headset with mic attached, this was plugged into a large orange box that housed the Neumann U67 mic power packs. This was to allow us to have communications between the truck and the stage. As this was not always the most reliable method of communicating, it was one of my jobs to run between the two locations relaying messages. The arrival of the Boss: Judas Jump had nearly finished their set when a guy appeared at the front door of the truck where I was sitting next to the eight track machines. With a stern New York accent, he said to me “Is the tape running?” My immediate thought was he was the band’s manager so I replied politely “Sorry, not at the moment.” Run the fucking tape.” he growled. I looked over at Vic who gave me the OK, so I did. The arrogant American walked off and Vic continued to check and mark up the desk, trying to make sure that we would encounter as few problems as possible during the next few days. The next act Kathy Smith had taken to the stage when Vic said, “Kenny, we are wasting tape, stop the machine.” so I did. It seemed pointless trying to record anything whilst we were still setting up. To my surprise the American guy appeared again, this time he entered the back of the truck next to Vic. Looking over at me he snarled, “Is that tape running?”“No,” I replied, he went ballistic screaming, “Run the fucking tape and leave it fucking running.” I immediately shouted back, “He’s my boss,” pointing at Vic, “not you, I do what he tells me.”Vic gave me a sheepish glance and said, “Kenny, start the tape in record.” He then turned to Vic saying, “Anymore from that kid, he’s off the truck for the rest of the gig.” Once he had left Vic told me that the American was Teo Macero and that Columbia USA were the clients paying for the mobile services and he was here to oversee the recording on their behalf. This brief encounter ensured a silence remained between Mr. Macero and I until the following Sunday. “Someone is going to try and kill Hendrix tonight.” On the Sunday morning, I saw Teo shaking hands and saying goodbye to various people. This seemed odd to me with still some major acts yet to perform. I didn’t expect him to speak to me at all, so I was not only surprised when he did, but was astounded by what he said, which went something like this. “Young man, I am leaving this morning and although we didn’t get off to a good start, I would just like to say thanks for all the work and long hours you have put in, also don’t go on the stage when Hendrix is on tonight.” “Why?” I asked. He replied, “Someone is going to try and kill him tonight.” “Really!” I said, with a bewildered tone to my voice.“Just be careful.” he continued. A feeling of uneasiness remained between us as we shook hands. As I watched him walk away I felt a huge relief that he was leaving. Today I realise he wasn’t the arrogant bastard I thought he was at the time; he was just a guy doing his job, but not all of it! Macero is credited for supervising Leonard Cohen’s live recording at this festival, but the fact is he had already left hours before Cohen went on stage. I do also appreciate his concern about me being on stage when Hendrix was appearing. The rest of this Jimi Hendrix's – The prophecy fulfils? Available in my book There Ain't No Rules In Rock n Roll

t was around 2 am, when The Who finally took to the stage but within three or four minutes of the opening song there was a problem. Vic shouted out to me that Keith Moon had hit the large tom-tom mic with his drum stick and busted it. He told me to get up on stage and put another mic on the drum pronto. I ran to the backstage entrance to find it guarded by several large and rather frightening looking Hells Angels. One of them, a six-foot longhaired ape of a man covered in leather and tattoos said to me, “No one goes on stage while the band’s playing.” I explained the problem we had on stage but unfortunately it appeared that this was not negotiable. I rushed back to tell Vic that I couldn’t get onto the stage due to the primate situation, he yelled, “I don’t give a shit! Get on the stage and get a mic on that tom.” I rushed to the back of the stage again to be greeted by the same mandrill who gave me the same grunts as before, enhanced with a “Now fuck off.” I ran back to explain to Vic there was no way I could get on the stage. 42 I was to become close friends with Vic over the next 19 years and this would be one of the few times I would ever see him really angry or hear him raise his voice. He screamed, “Go back and tell that fucking ape the recording is going to be fucked, he will be personally responsible and the band will be furious with him.” Returning to the stage once again, this time equipped with Vic's precise instructions, I repeated them word for word. I tactfully omitted the reference to the guy's heritage. Thankfully, this approach proved effective and I was promptly granted access. As I reached the stage, The band was in the midst of an energetic performance, unleashing such a powerful surge of noise that made it impossible to discern the actual song they were playing, the stage reverberated as though a minor earthquake were underway. The band's outlines were all I could see as they were illuminated from the front by intensely brilliant white lights, while the audience remained obscured in the darkness beyond. I was fully aware there was the looming presence of over 600,000 individuals that lay beyond this blinding radiance. At this moment, a paralysis overcame my entire body, it suddenly dawned on me that there was no way I could just casually stroll on to the stage, in front of such an enormous audience, locate a spare microphone and replace the broken one - especially while Moon was in the midst of his somewhat dynamic performance. Given Moon's well-known reputation, there was a real chance that he might stop playing midway through a song and tell me to fuck off. Recognising the potential scenario, I was left with only one viable choice: to delegate this task to someone else. Looking around for a likely victim I spotted Neville nearby. I approached the prime candidate and bellowed into his ear that Vic had dispatched me to instruct him to replace the microphone. Nev's expression instantly changed, his face registering a mixture of astonishment and trepidation, likely fuelled by his awareness of Moon's unpredictable behaviour. It was apparent that he was undergoing the same rush of terror that had engulfed me - it seemed that Neville may have required a change of underpants. Nev began to conjure up various excuses, but I was resolute in conveying Vic's insistence that the task needed immediate attention. We looked over and sure enough, the Neumann U67 microphone head had been shattered and lay on the ground. As I stood by, Nev, with evident nervousness, navigated around the drum kit on his hands and knees. Displaying remarkable courage, he picked up the fractured microphone head and proceeded to attach a replacement head to the remaining body. With the mission accomplished, I swiftly returned to Vic, carefully omitting the specifics of Nev's involvement.

For over 40 years I had the privilege to work with some of the most amazing, talented, crazy and often deluded people in the world of music and movies. I've spent endless hours stationed behind the mixing desk, orchestrating the recording and production processes for a diverse spectrum of artistes. From the remarkably gifted to those whose creative spark may have flickered less brightly, I've navigated them all. It began in 1969, at Pye Studios in London, where I was fortunate to learn the art of recording from some of the most acclaimed engineers of the time. I subsequently moved on to De Lane Lea Studios, an expansive state-of-the-art facility acclaimed as the world's largest purpose-built studio. Both Pye and DLL functioned as my educational institutions for mastering the intricacies of sound recording. Significantly, they also served as platforms for me to immerse myself in the realm of record production and song writing, where I gleaned insights from the luminaries who frequented the recording studio and consistently topped the charts.Throughout the years, I've regaled friends and family with countless anecdotes from this captivating journey. As moments turned into memories, the notion to preserve these tales began to crystallise, prompting a profound appreciation for the intricacies of the human mind. It's a marvel that commences its workings long before one's birth and doesn’t stop until the moment one sits down to write a Podcast or book.Compiling an accurate timeline of my narratives became achievable through consulting my diaries. Spanning from 1971 to 2009, I consistently maintained these journals, not out of any historical intent, but merely to log the sessions I worked on and the overtime hours I accrued. Unexpectedly, they have emerged as indispensable references, furnishing precise dates and contextual details to my various escapades. Reflecting on my experience within this captivating industry, I've arrived at a simple realisation: You may have been in the business for 5 minutes or for 20 years, you could be very gifted or have no talent at all but to achieve success you must remember one crucial thing.There Ain't No Rules in Rock ‘n’ Roll.Within these podcasts you will discover, 1) Which major record company executive warned me of Jimi Hendrix's impending death just three weeks before his died. 2) Learn how Bill Haley intervened to save Chuck Berry's life. 3) Find out how I ended up sharing a pint of beer in a pub with a grizzly bear who sold 250,000 singles without ever charting. 4) Uncover the story of the singing waiter who defied the odds to become one of the biggest artists in history. 5) Find out how I ended up sharing a pint of beer in a pub with a grizzly bear who sold 250,000 singles without ever charting. 6) Explore how John Lennon and Yoko Ono played a role in naming the band Hot Chocolate. 7) Experience the challenges of producing an album with the legendary guitarist Peter Green. 8) Read about the unexpected encounter I had with movie star James Garner, who unknowingly bought me breakfast when I was a teenager. 9) Discover the truth behind Mungo Jerry's hit single "In The Summertime." 10) Learn why Bing Crosby made a heartwarming phone call that touched many lives. 11) Find out what Fred Astaire's mother thought of his singing voice. 12) Explore the remarkable story of the hit songwriter, journalist, and spy catcher who executed an incredible sting operation inspired by the movie "The Sting." 13) Delve into my close friendship with Tony Newley and the true identity of Anthony Newley. 14) My crazy adventure in Louisiana's Cajun country, where I believe I came across Snow White’s and Dopey’s offspring. 15) How I found out that you can always tell a Texan BUT! You can’t tell him much. 16) And much more.