After having given a lot of acclaim for musical ‘greats’ I have had the pleasure  to meet and/or play with, I felt it important to spotlight some lesser-known, but in my opinion equally talented musicians.

I will start with the team of not-so-little, but dedicated Norwegian blues players who accompanied me on the ‘Precious Little’ CD back in 2005 and on some gigs in the ensuing couple of years. They towered above me in stature, and we often joked about calling our troupe, ‘Jeremy and the Giants’.

The giants are:

Trond Ytterbo on harmonica, mandolin and vocals. A disciple of Little Walter.

Espen Liland on guitar. A disciple of Albert Collins.

Rune Endal on bass. A disciple of Willie Dixon and John McVie.

Runar Boysen on keyboards. A disciple of … well, greats in many genres.

Last but not least, Anders Viken on drums and percussion. A disciple of
S.P.Leary, Odie Payne, those backbones of Chicago blues drummers.

So, with a line-up like that, the project was guaranteed to work, and it did. I have said many times that playing with such a well-knit and sympathetic team of musicians was akin to putting on a tailor-made suit. When entering our first rehearsal, it was like stepping into a 1950’s Chicago blues studio! A precious experience. Thank you, Trond and team.

The last time I met Eric was in 1989 in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, where Dorothea and I were living at the time. He was on a tour of Brazil and staying at a hotel in Copacabana, where we met him. We conversed for some time, and at Dorothea’s request, he talked about his son, Connor. This was just a few months before Connor’s fateful accident in New York. I sent Eric my condolences in a letter, and mentioned something about the verse in the Bible’s book of Revelation about the Lord wiping away the tears in Heaven. I don’t know, but it may be that Eric’s beautiful song, “Tears in Heaven” was inspired by that very verse. I haven’t seen him since.

One of the next times I met Eric Clapton was after the 1969 Melody Maker awards, which we attended in order to pick up the trophy.

At the time, I had wanted to record an album of Buddy Holly’s songs but I heard from Jenny Boyd (Mick Fleetwood’s wife at the time and sister of Patti Boyd who was then married to George Harrison) that Eric Clapton was about to do the same. I told her that I would drop the idea, especially because he was going to be accompanied by the Crickets themselves!

Jenny came back to me with word from Eric that he, knowing I wanted to do that, would bow out and leave the project to me.

Anyway, Eric was present at the Melody Maker Award ceremony. He asked me about the ‘Boody Hoolly’ project, as he called it and he again told me to go ahead with it. I objected, but he insisted. A gracious move on his part. He ended up recording only a couple of numbers with the Crickets on his upcoming album with Delaney and Bonnie’s musicians (an excellent album, by the way) and I never pursued the Buddy Holly album idea. I would love to, however, and I would like to record his more obscure numbers that had moved me, some of the very ones that Eric had mentioned in our conversation.

I have had some opportunities to meet Eric — a congenial and respectful man. The first time was when Peter introduced me to him at the Windsor Jazz and Blues festival in 1967 — Fleetwood Mac’s first gig. We were in a backstage tent, and Eric was there in his latest psychedelic, Afro-permed splendour. I felt a little in awe, as I always admired him for stepping out and playing what he believed in despite public opinion.

“Is that your axe?” he asked me, pointing to the cello-bodied Jennings guitar that I was borrowing from John Charles, the former bass-player from the Levi Set. It was leaning against a couch. It had string for a strap and didn’t even have a case!

I said yes, and asked him the usual couple of questions that I would pose at meeting a fellow guitarist: “Do you play slide?”

To which Eric replied that he did sometimes.

And the second: “Do you listen to Elmore James?”

To which he replied that he did, but more to Robert Johnson.

Once while I was backstage at a concert, B. B. drew me aside and sat down with Lucille on his knee plugged into a small Fender Champ. He said something like, “You know what? I tried to play slide like that and I couldn’t get the hang, so I learned to make the sound with my fingers like this…” and, playing the intro to Elmore’s ‘The Sky is Crying”, he demonstrated how he would bend the string and “trill” it (as he referred to finger vibrato) to emulate a slide guitar.

In 1969, Fleetwood Mac had the privilege to tour England with B. B. King and his band. We covered the major cities and venues, including the Royal Albert Hall. How his band appreciated the beautiful countryside impressed me; they were whooping and hollering and snapping away on their cameras. It seemed the grass was greener on the other side of their fence, but it takes all that English rain to make it so.

Anyway, I also had the privilege to sit beside B. B. on the coach during a long trip into Devon and Cornwall, but I’m afraid that I may have worn him out with questions about Elmore James! He was very courteous, though, having been an Elmore admirer himself. (B. B.’s bio “Blues All Around Me”, is a must-read, by the way.) At one point in the conversation, after my grilling him about his opinion on Albert and Freddy King, Albert Collins, Otis Rush and Buddy Guy etc., he calmly said, “They’re good, but you know what? They’re all copying me.”

He wasn’t being flashy; he was stating the truth.

Sometime later, backstage at a concert, B. B. drew me aside and sat down with Lucille on his knee plugged into a small Fender Champ. He said something like, “You know what? I tried to play slide like that and I couldn’t get the hang, so I learned to make the sound with my fingers like this…” and, playing the intro to Elmore’s ‘The Sky is Crying”, he demonstrated how he would bend the string and “trill” it (as he referred to finger vibrato) to emulate a slide guitar.

Now, having seen the black fellows mentioned above, (Jimi included) and many British blues guitarists at the time employing the same technique, including Peter, I realized that B. B. was its actual innovator. Yet here he was, like a child at Christmas, humbly showing me as though he had only just discovered it! An unforgettable moment.

In November of 1967, Peter Green and I went to the Nag’s Head in Battersea to see Freddie King. It was his first tour of England. The venue took place on the top floor of the pub and it was packed to the gills but fortunately, Peter and I secured places right in front of the stage.

Freddie was backed by Chicken Shack, a popular blues band at the time, which comprised Stan Webb on lead guitar and vocals, Christine Perfect on piano, Andy Sylvester on bass and on this occasion, Al Sykes on drums. They were perfect for Freddie, having learned note for note so much of his repertoire on Federal records!

And it was a lively, enjoyable show; one of the best I have ever attended. Peter and I, along with the audience, enthusiastically egged Freddie on and responded to his church revival-like questions and admonitions about ‘ever lovin’ a woman’ for instance with shouts of ‘yeah!’ and ‘Amen’! And ‘Baby’, (his big red Gibson E335 who looked more like a ukulele dangling on his enormous frame) responded in turn with shrieks, wails and moans that he seemed to shake and throttle out of her neck! It was the first time I had seen a blues lead guitarist use fingerpicks.

After the gig, Peter and I took Freddie to the Speakeasy club, a music bizzers’ late-night haunt in West End London’s Margaret Street. There we had a few drinks and chatted. At one point, Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Stone Free’ track came on the sound system, and I drew Freddie’s attention to the solo, saying that Jimi was a new black guitarist in town from the States who was getting a lot of attention.

After the song’s solo, I asked Freddie what he thought and he said very pensively, “Hmm … it’s good, but it’s too fast. Loses the soul.”

He and I talked about Elmore James, who Freddie admired, and because I had my guitar with me, I was urged to get up and play. The band for the night was Aynsley Dunbar’s Retaliation and they let me play a number. I believe it was ‘Dust My Broom’.

Peter told me that as soon as I started playing, Freddie sat up, wide-eyed and exclaimed, “That’s him! That’s Elmore!”

A compliment I have never forgotten.

Part 2:

I think it was a Thursday night, when John, Ian, Phil Smith and his brother Maurice, Fiona and I drove off, with Norman Hood at the wheel, to the club that was situated under the train lines at Snow Hill, Birmingham. People were only just starting to enter and I approached John Mayall who was standing in the middle of the club surveying the ‘battlefield’ it seemed! He was aware that we were to play between his sets.

Then I saw Peter Green, wearing a brown double-breasted jacket over jeans, sitting surrounded by fans (mostly young men), among whom was Clem Clemson, the guitarist in our local ‘rival’ blues band called ‘Bakerloo Blues Line’. Clem hailed from Tamworth, a town near Lichfield, and later went on to be the guitarist for John Hiseman’s Coliseum.

I walked up to Peter and introduced myself … well, I was about to introduce myself. He said ‘Jeremy? Jeremy Spencer?’ before I said anything.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Do you listen to Elmore James?’

He said, ‘Yes, all the time. Do you listen to B. B. King?’

I said, ‘Yes,’ and we chatted until it came time for their set. I had seen John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers with Peter Green some months previously at a Birmingham all-night venue, and had enjoyed it. Peter played his Les Paul with a pickup missing and suffered nothing from the lack! I had even asked John to play Otis Rush’s ‘I Can’t Quit You Baby’ that night, and I was impressed that he acknowledged my request.

And I was impressed with John’s first set that night at Le Metro as Fiona and I stood at the front of the stage on which Peter gave a stellar performance. Then we, the Levi Set played for about half an hour and Peter played harmonica on the first number: ‘Dust My Broom’.

John Mayall then played their second and last set, during which time I had pretty much discounted any idea of Pete wanting me in his new band. I was happy that a good time had been had and that was it. To my surprise, however, after their set, Pete asked if I wanted a drink and we stood by the bar, where he talked as though I was already in the band! He was saying stuff like, ‘Well, you can do a couple of Elmore things and then I do a couple of B. B.’s and so on like that…’

I finally said, ‘Are you serious? Do you like what I play?’

He said that I was the first guitarist that made him smile since Hendrix! Can you believe it? Then he showed me a page that he had written in his notebook while on his way up to Birmingham. It was like a prayer that said something like, ‘I can’t go on with this music like it is. Please have Jeremy be good, please have him be good.’

Needless to say, I was dumfounded and left Le Metro that night in a daze, sitting speechless next to Fiona in the back of Norman Hood’s car.

In early spring of 1967, the Levi Set, consisting of John Charles on bass, his brother Ian on drums and myself on guitar, received a surprise announcement from a friend, Phil Smith that we were to be auditioned by none other than Mike Vernon.

At that time, Mike Vernon’s name was to the blues enthusiasts synonymous with the great recording producers of Stateside blues. His name appeared on most Decca records of British blues, the most predominant being John Mayall who was having chart successes with his Bluesbreakers and Hard Road albums, featuring Eric Clapton ad Peter Green respectively.

Unbeknownst to me, Phil had written in answer to an advertisement in Britain’s Melody Maker, a weekly music paper, which said that Mike Vernon was to be scouting the British Isles for blues talent and to contact him if anyone is interested or knew of a band or musicians who would fit the bill. Phil told him about this little fellow in Lichfield who played and sang like Elmore James. Mike replied that he would travel up to hear him, so for us to reserve a time and place for an audition.

I think it had to have happened this way, as I never would have answered the ad myself, and if Phil had told me beforetime that he was going to, I would have been reluctant.  Mike traveled up to Wall, a tiny village outside of Lichfield where we had set up in its local hall. We did a thirty-minute set, and Mike was impressed and enthusiastic. He returned a couple of weeks later with a tape recorder to get some of our stuff down. He later arranged a session at Decca records for us to record about four tracks, two of which, ‘Look Down at my Woman’ and ‘Who’s Knocking?’ appeared on Immediate label’s ‘Blues Anytime #1’ album. They were released under my name, as they featured me singing and accompanying myself on piano without other musicians. I remember that as a band, we also recorded ‘The Sky is Crying’ and ‘Travelling Riverside Blues’. I would be curious to hear those tracks someday!

Anyway, Mike told me that Peter Green was quitting John Mayall in order to form his own band and wanted to find another guitarist. Mike then arranged for us to play for half an hour between the sets of an upcoming John Mayall gig at Birmingham’s ‘Le Metro’ club so that Pete could see and hear me play.

(To be continued in part 2)

After I played the 2007 Notodden festival with Steve Winwood, the lead singer of Goodtime Charlie, a Norwegian R&B band, approached me. I had mentioned to him that I wanted to play in Eastern Europe because of the youthful interest in ‘classical’ blues. He told me that I would enjoy playing in Shanghai of all places! He said that the youth in that city, such as students there numbering in the thousands, were overwhelmingly appreciative of the old-style blues. It seems they so have had their fill of rap, heavy metal and even contemporary blues, that they want to ‘hear it like it was’! It reminded me of when I was that student age and I wanted to catch hearing the ‘last dogs at the bone’ of old blues before they passed on. I was certainly not interested in the contemporary white blues of that day!

I was able to play in Poland, headlining the Suwalki Blues Festival in 2008 and I want to go further east.