Tom Jones - the Life (10 page)

Tom was apologetic to the
Daily Mirror
, calling it his ‘big lie’. He explained, ‘It’s never been a secret back home in Wales that I was married. But when I came to London, it was felt it was best if my wife and son were “dispensed with”. When I came to London, I was told to say I was single. I knew that sooner or later the secret would come out.’ His contrition appeared in the newspaper one day before he celebrated his eighth wedding anniversary.

Mark was quoted for the first time in the papers, saying that he wanted to be a drummer when he grew up. He added, ‘I’m glad that everybody knows Tom Jones is my daddy.’ Linda, too, said it was a great relief: ‘I found it very difficult to keep the secret. I am glad all that business is over and done with.’

Jo Mills realised that the damage had already been done, however: ‘I think from the very beginning Linda was made to feel as if she mustn’t exist in his life. It’s very sad, because she is a lovely person, very warm, and if only she’d got that confidence initially, she would have been very different, I’m sure. She always stayed very much in the background.’

A few years later, when Tom was one of the most famous singers in the world, Linda commented, ‘I never felt good enough to be Tom’s wife.’

This was the age of The Beatles, when singles routinely sold in vast quantities. ‘It’s Not Unusual’ shifted more than 800,000 copies in four weeks. The track entered the charts at number twenty-one, before rising to the top on 11 March 1965. While Tom’s debut was one of the fifty biggest sellers of the decade, it wasn’t even the biggest of the year – that accolade belonged to ‘Tears’, sung by the comedian Ken Dodd, with total eventual sales of more than 1.5 million.

The chart was announced on Thursdays, when there was a rundown on
Top of the Pops
. Back in Wales, when he came up to the surface, Tom’s father was given the news by one of his mates, who told him, ‘Your Tom’s got to number one.’ He promptly went home to invite all his friends and family round to celebrate.

The man himself was sitting in Gordon’s flat with a glass of champagne in his hand, with Gordon, Jo, Les Reed, The Squires, Peter Sullivan and everyone else who had a vested interest in his success. Les remembers a telling exchange between Tom and his manager at the party: ‘Gordon almost pinned him to the wall and said, “You talk to no one. I do all the talking; you don’t even talk to Les.”’

Things would never be the same for Tom or any of his family. His life was like a record on a turntable when the speed changed from a sedate 33 rpm to a rapid 78 rpm. It was a whirlwind. When he returned home to Wales with Gordon, he barely had a moment to see his parents because of the demands on his time. That didn’t stop Freda reportedly telling him, ‘You may be a big shot up in London, but down in Pontypridd you wipe your shoes when you come in, you’re good to your wife and you take your turn bringing in the coal.’

Part of the success of ‘It’s Not Unusual’ was down to the notorious trouser-splitting antics of P. J. Proby. He was on tour with Cilla Black, Tommy Roe and other groups, including The Fourmost and Sounds Incorporated. For a time, the Texan, whose real name was Jim Smith, was the most talked-about singer in the UK, and had enjoyed three top ten hits before Tom came along – then his velvet trousers started splitting on stage. Once was considered an accident, but when it happened again at the Croydon ABC, it was the final straw for the tour’s promoters and he was banned from all ABC Cinemas.

Tom Jones and The Squires were ushered in to take his place, not as the headline act – that would be Cilla – but as the one that had the hit record at the time. They did nineteen dates in three weeks, criss-crossing the country from Newcastle to Exeter, from Edinburgh to Cardiff. The publicity for ‘It’s Not Unusual’ was priceless.

The press tried to build a rivalry between Tom and Proby, ignoring the fact that they shared the same record label and were therefore giving both record sales the oxygen of publicity. Tom fanned the flames of competition, telling Keith Altham in the
NME
that he didn’t like Proby, whom he nicknamed P. J. Probably, as an artist: ‘I like his voice and like his sound – but not his style.’ Tom resented claims that he was copying the American: ‘I am what I am. I have never tried to be what is popularly conceived as a modern sex symbol. Take a look at these sideburns and the curly hair – brushed back. Do you see any sign of the idol à la fringe and velvet pants? I was singing the same kind of songs, dressed as I am now, when Proby was still in America. I don’t copy anyone – least of all Proby.’

The trouser-splitting may now seem more like it belonged in a
Carry On
film or a Benny Hill sketch, but in the mid-sixties, the moral majority, led by campaigner Mary Whitehouse, had a sanctimonious power. Proby later claimed in an interview that Gordon Mills had offered the promoter Joe Collins, father of Joan and Jackie, a great deal of money to throw the American off the tour and replace him with Tom. He said that money had changed hands.

Proby maintained that they were looking for an excuse to sack him, and the fuss that Mary Whitehouse kicked up after his performance at the Croydon ABC gave them just cause. It may or may not be true that Gordon tried to bring some influence to bear on the situation, but all the major protagonists in the decision are long dead. When the dust cleared, Tom was in, at £600 per week, and P. J. Proby was out. Later that month, Proby released a timely, extravagant ballad called ‘I Apologise’, which just missed out on the top ten when Tom was riding high in the charts.

For a while, Tom had to put up with Proby fans holding up pictures of their idol while he was performing, but that didn’t last long. Instead, he finished the tour practically headlining. It had been a meteoric rise.

The realisation that he was truly famous hit him one night while he was in the pub between shows in Southampton with Cilla Black and some of the groups from the tour, and he was dimly aware that a bunch of girls was gathering outside. He was unconcerned, believing they were there for the others, so he innocently wandered into the crowd, only to be torn practically limb from limb as they tried to grab a souvenir. His new black raincoat was in shreds.

He chuckled, ‘These females wanted a piece of me, yet the week before they wouldn’t buy me a glass of bloody bitter.’

The line-up for the
NME
Poll Winners Concert at the beginning of April 1965 was one of the greatest ever assembled and would have graced Live Aid: The Moody Blues, The Seekers and Herman’s Hermits were some of the acts in the first half, which ended with The Rolling Stones singing ‘The Last Time’ and ‘Everybody Needs Somebody to Love’. Cilla Black, Dusty Springfield and The Animals kept the excitement levels high in the second half, before The Beatles closed the show with ‘Ticket to Ride’ and ‘Long Tall Sally’.

Tom, dressed in a bright red shirt and tight black trousers, was on between Van Morrison’s group, Them, and sixties’ favourites The Searchers. Backed by The Squires and his new brass section, he opened with ‘Little by Little’, before launching into ‘It’s Not Unusual’, which brought a crescendo of screams from the mainly female audience. He closed with what would be his new single, ‘Once Upon a Time’. Alan Smith’s review in the
NME
called Tom’s performance a ‘real highlight of the show’. He added, ‘He more than proved himself as one of the best visual performers in the pop business’, which was high praise, considering three months before he was barely known.

Tom had already come into contact with The Beatles, or more precisely John Lennon, on the pop show
Thank Your Lucky Stars
. In the afternoon at the studios in Birmingham, Tom and Gordon were watching the rehearsals from the audience’s seats. John, who was the first of The Beatles out on stage, plugged in his guitar, looked up and started singing ‘It’s not an elephant, It’s a unicorn’ to the tune of ‘It’s Not Unusual’. He then said into his microphone, ‘How are you doing, you Welsh poof?’ Tom was unamused and responded, ‘Come up here, you Scouse bastard, and I’ll show you.’

Gordon had to calm things down quickly, fearing that Tom nutting John Lennon wouldn’t be a good career move. ‘It’s just his sense of humour,’ he soothed, although Tom was well aware that the Liverpudlian was taking the piss. If there’s one thing that Tom does not enjoy being called, it’s a Welsh poof. He muttered to Gordon, ‘I’ll give him a sense of fucking humour.’ Later the two became friends and Tom was able to laugh about it – just.

The follow-up to ‘It’s Not Unusual’ was a strangely lacklustre affair. ‘Once Upon a Time’ had been written by Gordon and arranged by Les Reed, but it was a pale imitation of Tom’s first hit. The lyric was banal – all about Adam and Eve falling in love once upon a time. The
NME
said it was tailor-made for the charts. That proved not to be the case.

Sales weren’t helped by Joe Meek finding his original recordings of Tom and releasing ‘Little Lonely One’ on the Columbia label in direct competition. He observed, ‘I believe it will do Tom a lot of good.’ Tom didn’t see it that way. Privately, he was hopping mad. Publicly, he was more measured: ‘I think it’s dated and I’d like to disassociate myself from it.’

‘Once Upon a Time’ flopped, reaching a lowly thirty-two in May. For other artists, this might have marked them as one-hit wonders. The record’s release was put back three weeks to allow Tom his first chance of making headway in the US. Chris Hutchins, who would be hired as Tom’s publicist later in the year, explained, ‘It was very important for Gordon to break America because that was a much bigger market.’

Gordon’s role model as he plotted the rise of Tom Jones was Elvis Presley. If there had been an Elvis handbook on how to become the biggest star in the world, then Gordon would have read it every night before bed. Part of the Elvis mythology was that when he appeared on the world-famous
Ed Sullivan Show
for the first time in 1956, he was only filmed from the waist upwards so as not to upset the God-fearing families of Middle America. That didn’t actually happen until Elvis’s third appearance, when he was singing a gospel song called ‘Peace in the Valley’. The publicity the apparent censorship brought was worth gold to the star’s blossoming career.

The other key aspect of appearing on
The Ed Sullivan Show
was that it bridged the gap between the rock ’n’ roll generation and their parents – families watched the programme together. Presley’s legendary manager, Colonel Tom Parker, credited the success of the more mainstream ballad ‘Love Me Tender’ to his client’s performance on the TV show.

The Beatles had set a trend in February 1964, at the height of Beatlemania, with a triumphant appearance on the show. More than 40 per cent of the country had watched them. As a result, other British acts were keen to follow their lead. A guest spot on
The Ed Sullivan Show
was just what Tom needed to crack America. Gordon knew, as every half-decent manager would, that the show equalled dollar signs. He negotiated a deal for Tom to appear on the programme five times over the next year.

Gordon was helped in the US by a New York-born attorney called Lloyd Greenfield, one of the most astute and popular members of Team Tom for the next thirty years. He came across as an abrasive personality until he got to know you. Gordon trusted him to pick his way through the minefield of American legal contracts. He also had the task of telling radio DJs prior to Tom’s television debut that he was not a black artist, as so many thought.

Tom would have preferred to take The Squires with him when he and Gordon flew to New York for his debut appearance on the show on 2 May 1965. He felt comfortable with the group, but he was told he needed to use American musicians on this occasion. For Tom, it was the first time he had flown. For Gordon, it was particularly stressful because of his fear of flying. He always bit his fingernails, but now they were gnawed to the quick.

Tom wasn’t the most controversial act that night – he was preceded by The Rolling Stones. Sullivan had vowed never to have them on his show again after the group’s screaming fans had drowned him out the previous October. He relented, persuaded by their popularity. They sang ‘The Last Time’, which had succeeded ‘It’s Not Unusual’ as number one in the UK.

Sullivan realised that British acts were pulling in an audience, so Tom was joining a list of guests that included the Dave Clark Five and the host’s personal favourite, Herman’s Hermits. He was warned, though, to tone down his sexiest moves or else the producers would cut to his face. He did his best, swaying from side to side rather than thrusting backwards and forwards. Gordon was delighted, because it was the same sort of censorship that Elvis had experienced.

Sullivan was sufficiently pleased to have Tom back a month later, when he was allowed to do two numbers. He opened the show with ‘It’s Not Unusual’, which had made the top ten on the
Billboard
chart. His hair was now in a ponytail and he rather resembled a posh Ted on a night out. He wore a tight-fitting shiny black suit with a cropped jacket and black Cuban-heeled winklepickers. Unable to do much with his bottom half, he snapped his fingers to the beat, which became rather irritating after the first minute or so. He still oozed a knowing sex appeal that augured well for the future.

Later, he closed the show with ‘Whatcha’ Gonna Do When Your Baby Leaves You’, an old fifties song by the black American blues singer Chuck Willis, which was much more in keeping with his preferred music. Tom had dancers for the first time; he seemed entirely at ease with this ‘putting on a show’ aspect and moved effortlessly around the stage.

One additional outcome of his appearances on
The Ed Sullivan Show
was that he was revealed to be white. That came as a surprise to the American audience, which naturally thought that his big, brash voice belonged to a black man. Elvis himself thought that Tom was black when he first heard him.

Tom had recorded ‘Whatcha’ Gonna Do’ for his first album,
Along Came Jones
, which had been released in the UK the previous week. The vinyl LP had sixteen tracks and was generally well received by the critics.
Record Mirror
gave it four stars and commented that side one had ‘loud vocal work and loud backing’. This contrasted with side two, which emphasised strings, allowing the ballads and the blues to come through.

The album was almost a collection of singles, in that each number was a classic two-minute pop song. Tom was able to include some old favourites from his Pontypridd days, including ‘Spanish Harlem’, ‘Memphis, Tennessee’, ‘Some Other Guy’ and an up-tempo version of the ‘Skye Boat Song’, which shouldn’t have worked but did. The
NME
said Tom sounded ‘remarkably coloured’. His voice almost had a James Brown quality, especially on ‘I Need Your Loving’. Disappointingly,
Along Came Jones
just failed to make the top ten in the UK, perhaps an indication that Tom was spending too much time in the US.

Gordon was already thinking ahead. He wanted to position Tom next to big, popular movies to give him stature as an important artist. Elvis had continually proved that a film theme tune was a surefire hit, and in the UK artists like Shirley Bassey obtained massive exposure from recording the latest James Bond song. When Gordon learned that Burt Bacharach would be in London working on the soundtrack of a new movie called
What’s New Pussycat?
, he pushed for Tom to sing the title song. Tom had already recorded one Bacharach number: the B-side of ‘It’s Not Unusual’ was the dull ‘To Wait for Love’.

Tom went round to the luxury flat the composer was renting in Belgravia and listened intently while Burt played the theme. Tom loathed ‘What’s New Pussycat?’ from the first time he heard it. He confessed, ‘I thought it was a joke.’ When he is asked which is the least favourite of all his songs, the Burt Bacharach/Hal David novelty record is the one that first pops into his mind. He told the
NME
, ‘I don’t like it at all. It’s just not me.’

He was sensible enough to be polite about it and asked Burt to leave it with him for a day or two, so that he could ‘live’ with the song. He told Gordon his true feelings and was promptly informed he was doing it and that was final.

Bacharach had a reputation for being a hard man to please and, reading between the lines, he gave Tom a tough time in the studio: ‘He really takes command of the situation – in a quiet way. He is really intense and he conducts the orchestra like he is really living the music.’ Tom had to do a lot of takes, which was something he wasn’t used to. ‘It was the hardest recording session I have ever done,’ he said.

The man who intensely disliked Cliff Richard’s music was never going to enjoy singing ‘Pussycat, Pussycat, I love you, Yes I do! You and your pussycat nose.’ But Gordon was right – the song was a massive summer hit in the US and the UK. The song is like Marmite: either you love it or you hate it. More people, it seemed, loved it, and Bacharach and David were even nominated for an Academy Award the following year.

Tom’s attitude hasn’t really changed over the years, although grudgingly he now describes it as a ‘fun song’, a comedy record for a comedy film. The intention was to widen his exposure and it succeeded in that aim, helped by the popularity of the movie. The film starred Peter O’Toole, Peter Sellers and Woody Allen and became a sixties kitsch classic.

For the rest of 1965, Tom criss-crossed the ocean, as Gordon set about conquering both countries. Tom ended up spending four months of his breakthrough year in the US. He disliked touring by bus and the endless nights trying to get comfortable, while he and the other artists on the package tour, including Sonny and Cher and The Turtles, were ferried thousands of miles around the country.

He hated the racism they encountered in the Deep South, where he couldn’t be seen talking to The Shirelles, the popular black girl group on the bill. At one hotel, he was chatting to the lead singer, Shirley Owens, in the lobby, when she suddenly marched off. Later, she told him that people were staring at them. She told him, ‘We were touching. You can’t do that in the South. They wouldn’t only hang me. They would hang you as well. “Nigger-lover” they would call you.’

Tom, who had spent most of his life in the sheltered streets of Treforest, couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. When another black singer, Mel Carter, was arrested during a fight at a truck stop, Tom tried to intervene, but was told in no uncertain terms to butt out by a cop who brandished a gun and called him ‘boy’. He told
MOJO
magazine, ‘I thought, “My mother’s going to pick up the paper and read ‘Tom Jones shot in Mississippi’.” Jesus, these people are mad.’

In October, Tom was back on safer ground when he appeared again on
The Ed Sullivan Show
, singing ‘What’s New Pussycat?’ and another single called ‘With These Hands’, a powerful and emotional song.

Tom was pushing himself hard and a month-long tour of Australia the following March seemed to take its toll on his voice. On his return, he went to see a specialist, who told him he needed to have his tonsils out. This was a big deal for a professional singer and Tom was whisked into the London Clinic for the operation. It was a success, but the surgeon was concerned about the level of bruising on his vocal chords and Tom was strongly advised to change his habits. That included giving up Woodbines, which he was still smoking, and cutting down on the beer and spirits.

Gordon stepped in to tell him to try cigars, because he wouldn’t have to inhale those, and to start drinking champagne, as this would be kinder on his voice. Tom recalled, ‘I always smoked Woodbines and drank beer. My manager said one day I’d be smoking cigars and drinking champagne. I said, “I love Woodbines and I love beer and that’s that.” So what am I doing today? Drinking champagne and smoking cigars. Times change.’

After a period of rest, Tom was back singing as strongly as ever. In a bizarre postscript, his tonsils went missing from the clinic. If it had happened today, they would probably have been put up for sale on eBay.

Elvis Presley really liked ‘It’s Not Unusual’; he loved ‘With These Hands’. He was filming yet another of his conveyor-belt films,
Paradise, Hawaiian Style
, at Paramount Studios in LA, when the call came in from his manager’s office asking if it would be possible for a singer called Tom Jones to come by and say hello. Elvis readily said it was OK.