O’SULLIVAN’S A STAR AGAIN (NATURALLY)
Garry
Films
Unlikely pop star Gilbert tells
Bushell how he always knew his songs would be hits... and why he ignored everyone’s advice on fashion
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For the first two years I didn’t tour. I’d go to Germany to record a TV show, go to Holland for the radio and be back in Surrey by 7pm
T SHOULD have been the height of Gilbert O’sullivan’s success – two sold-out shows in one night at the London Palladium; the cherry on top of two incredible years of hits. But when Elton John and Kiki Dee came backstage to congratulate him, the young pop star was nowhere to be seen.
“I was under the couch,” Gilbert groans. “I’d never done two shows in one night before and it was horrendous. Elton and Kiki came back after the first one and there I was under the couch with my eyes closed trying to get my voice working again.
“That showed my lack of experience,” he continues. “Gary Barlow worked the clubs; he learned his craft.”
He mentions Gary because they’ve just released a duet of his 1972 hit Alone Again (Naturally), “recorded over Zoom, live in different studios,” he tells me. “It’s had 2.2 million views in the last week.”
He shakes his head and adds, “I haven’t even got a mobile phone!”
In 1972, O’sullivan sold more UK singles than any other male solo artist, seeing off such stellar challengers as Elvis, Michael Jackson, David Cassidy and Sir Elton himself.
Never conventional, Gilbert devised his own eccentric look and initially
refused to tour. With his pudding basin hair, Depression-era flat cap, and a school tie that was frequently askew, he looked like a scruffy urchin.
“I arrived in London in 1967,” he recalls. “It was the height of flower power; everyone looked the same. I decided to create an image that was different… like the Beatles had done. I came up with a Just William character, with a Charlie Chaplin look.”
He hired the clothes from theatrical suppliers Berman’s. “They’d ask, ‘What production is this for?’ and I’d say it’s for me over the weekend to look in the mirror…
“I looked like a freak with my short back and sides,” he laughs. “It was deeply unfashionable. Everyone in the business told me to grow my hair and look like James Taylor but I was determined to do it,” he says. “Despite everyone hating it.”
Everyone included his first manager, Gordon Mills, the late Svengali who masterminded the careers of Sir Tom Jones and Engelbert Humperdinck.
“When he saw the pictures, he threw them in the bin,” Gilbert, 74, smiles.
“But he loved the songs. It showed the dichotomy between how I looked and how I sounded. I had great faith in my songs; I knew I was going to make it. I always say, you might not be as good as you think you are, but thinking you are is good. I know people who had talent but needed someone else to say they were good. I’d walk in to a publisher’s and say, ‘Listen to this, it’s great’. It was a healthy arrogance.”
Nothing Rhymed justified it. The lead single from Gilbert’s 1970 debut album, Himself, introduced the phrase “Bonaparte shandy” ( for brandy) into the lingo and was the first of 12 hits, two of them Number Ones.
Crazy times? “Not for me,” he says. “I was always a home bird. I didn’t mix. and for the first two years I didn’t tour. I’d go to Germany to record a TV show, go to Holland for the radio and be back in Surrey by 7pm.
“I spent most of my time at home. I didn’t party. I had girlfriends but I had a pretty normal life at home.”
Gilbert was born Raymond Edward O’sullivan in Waterford, Ireland. His father worked in an abattoir, his mother in a sweet shop. The family moved to Swindon when he was seven.
Critics praised his songs for their Englishness, and likened his writing to Paul Mccartney and Ray Davies.
“I’m proud of my Irish roots, but all of my background stems from growing up in Swindon... we won’t talk about football.
“It’s flattering to have those comparisons. I think it’s because we use colloquial English and reflect working-class lives. Ray is a fantastic songwriter and so are Squeeze, their songs are imbued with Englishness.”
In the mid-70s Andy Williams wanted to record Gilbert’s We Will but asked to change a line because he didn’t understand it. “The line was ‘I bagsy being in goal’,” he laughs. “A very English expression. I let him.”
O’SULLIVAN’S awardwinning songs combine strong melodies with conversational lyrics, the waggish ironies delivered deadpan. Different countries have different favourites. In the UK, it’s his 1972 chart-topper Clair, written about Gordon Mills’s daughter (whom he used to babysit).
“In Holland it’s Nothing Rhymed, in Germany Get Down and in America it’s Alone Again...” – which shot straight to the top of the US charts and stayed there for six weeks, so Gilbert had to give in and tour the States. “A disaster,” he groans. “They put me into arenas and it went badly wrong. It got pulled before it reached the West Coast.”
His musical journey began as a drummer in Rick’s Blues, formed by Rick Davies, later of Supertramp – both attended Swindon Art School. Striking out alone, Gilbert left a demo for Cat Stevens’s producer Mike Hurst but panicked when he wanted to start recording straight away. After dallying with CBS, Gordon took over the managerial reins.
Their friendship ended in the mid-70s with a legal battle over song ownership that put his career on hold
for years. The court ruled in Gilbert’s favour in 1982 and awarded him £7million.
In 1991, he took action against rapper Biz Markie for sampling Alone Again (Naturally) without permission. Both cases were seen as important victories for artists’ rights.
O’sullivan and his Norwegian wife Aase have lived in Jersey since the mid-80s. “One of the conditions for moving here was that I kept a low profile. They’d let in authors and golfers but never a pop star before. I told them I had no intention of throwing TV sets out of windows… I like that low profile. People say hello but don’t bother me.”
FANS ARE generally friendly. His worst encounter was in Spain with three well-oiled senoritas “who wouldn’t believe I wasn’t Leo Sayer, we had to leave the restaurant”, he says.
“Luckily Jersey is a small island and a healthy environment. We haven’t been hit badly by Covid. I’ve had the jab and no side effects. It’s good to have some form of normality to look forward to.”
His grown-up daughters Tara and Helen Marie beaver away behind the scenes, leaving Gilbert free to concentrate on writing songs.
“Tara does my social media,” he says. “They get me to do things that I want to do, and stop me from doing silly things” – like writing peevish letters to reviewers.
O’sullivan records his new album next month, after his second jab, and is planning a full tour next year. A concert in Dublin he filmed in 2019 will be streamed on St Patrick’s Day.
He’s delighted with the Gary Barlow duet and its harmonised final verse.
His first duet was with the late jazz icon Peggy Lee in 1991. “I went to New York for it, it was magical. I didn’t want a contemporary singer.”
Gilbert’s songs have been covered by Michael Bublé, Neil Diamond, Diana Krall and Nina Simone.
“Every cover is a compliment but you have to hear the Japanese heavy metal band who covered Alone Again (Naturally) at 100 miles an hour.”
Gilbert O’sullivan’s 2018 compilation album saw him back in the Top 20.
“I’m making my way up to a position of strength,” he says. “If things don’t happen, I just move on.”
Gilbert O’sullivan: The Essential Collection is out now on 2CD, stream or download. Alone Again (Naturally) crooners’ video is live on Youtube
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It coasts along with cameos, broad comedy and knowing callbacks
COMING 2 AMERICA Cert 12 ★★
CAN you think of a joke that was funnier the second time you heard it? Me neither. This disappointing follow-up to Eddie Murphy’s 1988 hit tries to steal a march on its critics with a knowing scene where two characters discuss the current state of American cinema. “It’s all superhero sh** remakes and sequels to films nobody wanted,” says Lavelle ( Jermaine Fowler).
It’s a good point well made. If Murphy had to revisit his 80s’ heyday, I’d rather see him doing stand-up movies such as
Delirious instead of revisiting a largely forgettable mainstream comedy.
Coming 2 America falls into the same trap that Ben Stiller did with Zoolander 2. Instead of sweating over crafting fresh gags, the writers coast along with cameo appearances, broad comedy and knowing callbacks to the original.
Here, the culture clash is thrown into reverse. Instead of Murphy’s pampered African prince Akeem searching for true love on the rough streets of New York, it’s the turn of his surprise American son, the street-smart Lavelle, to be the fish out of water when he visits his father’s opulent palace.
A brief trip to Queens allows Murphy and his co-star Arsenio Hall to don prosthetics to reprise their comedy side characters. The film’s funniest and liveliest sequence takes us back to the My-t-sharp barbershop where the regulars lecture a young client on political correctness.
Wesley Snipes, so good alongside Murphy in 2019’s Dolemite Is My Name, has his moments as a macho African dictator. But these talented comic actors have no business training in nostalgia.
SOME TITLES work surprisingly well. The Terror (BBC Two, Wednesday) was one, a new 10-part drama about two British naval ships stuck in pack ice in 1845 as they went in search of the North West Passage. We don’t know exactly what happened to these two vessels and their 120 crew, but things didn’t look particularly good as episode one ended.
By that stage, they were using picks and shovels to break up the ice along with cannon fire. Oh, and praying to God – though he rarely turned out for stranded Victorian explorers. And the names of these two ships? HMS Erebus and HMS Terror! Which one would you choose? A Viking River Cruise, thanks.
There is something incredibly doomladen about the act of watching a true story like this. Made five years ago by AMC in America, it actually has much in common with Chernobyl (Sky Atlantic) one of the best recent British dramas. It’s basically about how a tragedy happened, even though we have no certainty about the facts this time.
And who do we turn to for the voice of common sense on these occasions? Jared Harris, of course. He has an incredible resting face of impending doom. Harris can smile, yes, but expect him soon to play a senior Public Health England official who, in December 2019, believes a not insignificant pandemic is coming our way.
He is just one of a very starry cast, which also includes Tobias Menzies (who did a resounding Prince Philip in The Crown), and an always believable Ciaran Hinds, who captains this ill-fated voyage. But my favourite turn came from Paul Ready, someone we’ve come to know – and love – as “Kevin from Motherland”, the incredibly anxious stay-at-home dad in the BBC Two sitcom who is well-meaning and loving but completely useless and luckless.
In The Terror, Ready plays Henry Goodsir, a physician who tries in vain to comfort a young sailor who is succumbing to scurvy. He then has to perform a post-mortem examination on the body, which is undoubtedly the most gruesome scene of the week. Why bother? He’s dead! “You will see the Passage first when you go,” Goodsir tells his patient, in the least reassuring message you will ever hear. “Kevin” needs to pick up his bedside manner.
But there’s something reassuringly British and colonial about this serial, too, as Hinds’s captain never fails to be optimistic. He and his officers dine and drink well in their finery and epaulets and look forward to success. It evokes Kipling’s, “If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs...” weigh anchor and head for home!
Now the real mystery of the week. What is Sergeant Dodds’s first name in Mcdonald & Dodds (ITV, Sunday)? Please don’t lose sleep over this taxing
question on my behalf but I have watched the first episode of this new series twice and still can’t find a trace of it. If you know, please message me, so that I can get on with living my life normally again.
Why does it matter? Well, no one asked that question of Morse who took umpteen series to declare his Christian name to be “Endeavour” which made the nation snigger away. Let’s deal with this now, so that we can sort out a name for the prequel series. In the spirit of Endeavour, how about “Mayflower”, or more cruelly, “Marie Celeste”!
It was another fine performance from Dodds’s Jason Watkins who is already so accomplished in this detective role that
clever mimic Rob Brydon was cast as a character almost imitating his obsessive mannerisms. The sincerest form of flattery. This series is quality Sunday night drama: a good mystery, framed by a picture-postcard Georgian city.
WHO WASN’T scratching their head at the end of last week’s Bloodlands (BBC One, Sunday)? James Nesbitt’s detective chose to – spoiler alert – shoot dead the nice old gentleman who has been helping him find “Goliath”, the Northern Irish psycho responsible for committing many unsolved murders. This is another of executive producer Jed Mercurio’s tricks: kill off an important character. Look at poor Keeley Hawes in Bodyguard.
Finally, Unforgotten (ITV, Monday) just gets better and better. Five former cadet police officers are now implicated in murder. Or so we think. But nothing is straightforward. Sheila Hancock’s cruelty to her daughter, now almost a chief constable – and a suspect – was palpable through her scene.
Bedridden, she barks at her down the phone, with a knowingness and barely disguised sarcasm, “I do admire you going for the top job. You’ve got balls of steel.”
She will need more than that to get through the next four episodes.