IAN HUNTER
Mott The Hoople’s chairman of the board, in his own words and by his own hand.
Mott’s eternal rock’n’roll diarist creates his Self-Portrait. He regrets the “piddling about” – but don’t we all?
I’d describe myself… I don’t know. I really don’t. Somebody once said to me, “You hang in.” I don’t think that’s too complimentary, but I do hang in. It’s reverse psychology from when you were a kid, when everybody’s telling you you’re useless. That’s the motivation. I don’t really take that much time to self-examine, I’m not trying to be modest, I just don’t. I do what I do, I guess other people are better judges, from the outside. I mean, who knows what they’re like?!
Music changed me… by opening up the door of my life for me. It took a little practice, but I’m quite good at it now. Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Fats Domino – these were the greats with whom I grew up. Of course, the parents felt a little differently about them, so I had to decamp. Amazing times, the ’50s and ’60s. Not at all like now.
When I’m not making music… there is never a time when music isn’t in or around me. It doesn’t necessarily mean I’m playing it all the time, but it’s in my head. Family and friends haul me to the surface now and again and that’s most enjoyable.
My biggest vice is… I smoked, but managed to give it up three or four years ago. I always like a drop of Champers – it’s been in the rider for years! Never was much of a druggie chap though – that’s why I’m still here. The last time I was embarrassed was… I dunno. Questions sometimes embarrass me.
My formal qualifications are… guitar, piano, harp, bass’n’vocals – which are all A levels in my neck of the woods. And a spot of ego to boot. The last time I cried was… dunno. I’m not maudlin in the slightest. Just as well really, because I’m still here, a lot of people are gone. I’m not optimistic, I’m right down the middle. I can as depressed as the next bloke, and I can get as optimistic as the next bloke. Vinyl, CD or streaming? Obviously, vinyl, but the idiotic corporate advance into self-immolation continues. It does seem like everyone’s hell-bent on ruining something when it’s good. Vinyl was great. And now you can’t even touch anything. I don’t like that, but I’m a crabby old chap. My most treasured possessions are… not possessions. They are my family – my friends – and my band. I am not sentimental about ‘things’. If I had to choose an inanimate object to drool over – the Maltese Cross that Joe Elliott gave me for my 70th birthday – all those years ago! – would probably fit the bill. The best book I’ve read is… anything by Joseph Roth. Don’t know why, but that period between the two world wars fascinates me. I have quite a lot of books – my memory isn’t great – so I take them out and read them again once in a while. Got to be in the mood for a book.
Is the glass half full or half empty… I prefer it full, especially before a performance. Loosens me up a tad.
My greatest regret is… that I didn’t mature sooner. I have so much respect for girls because they mature much sooner than blokes. I was a bit of a wild arse. I could have done with being a tad more aware of the financial aspects of things. It’d have been nice if I’d stopped piddling about and got on with it sooner. I was quite lazy. But if I’d have gone into a band straight out of school, I would have had nothing to write about. I had over 40 jobs in the ’60s, living in lodgings for three quid a week, working in factories, out with the chaps every night of the week… I got lyrics out of it. I had a lot to write about.
When we die… you don’t hear too much about where you were before you arrived here. Not much money to be made out of that – but where you’re going – a lot of people have made pots of money out of that. The truth of the matter is no one has a clue, so everybody believes what they want to believe.
I would like to be remembered as… “That ginger bloke with the glasses… now who was he with?” Highly underrated!!!
An updated version of Ian’s Diary Of A Rock‘n’Roll Star is published by Omnibus on October 11.
“I had over 40 jobs in the ’60s, living in lodgings for three quid a week.” IAN HUNTER