FROM THE BEGINNING
KEN SHARP: Not much is known about the bands you and Ronnie Lane
had before the Small Faces, the Pioneers and the Outcasts. Could
you give us a little background on that?
KENNEY JONES: (Laughs) It's hard to remember back that far! When
I was learning to play drums -- I taught myself to play drums
-- for the first three months of me learning how to play drums
there was a local pub up the road from me in Stepney, East London,
called The British Prince, and I used to go there when I was 13
years old. I pretended I was older, obviously, and sat there watching
this band, which was a jazz band, basically. I went there every
weekend for a month or so, and when the band took a break, the
drummer came over to me and said "why do you keep looking
at me," and I said "well, I'm learning to play the drums,
and I'm watching you 'cause I'm picking up a few tips, you know."
And he went "oh right," and he got to know me over the
next couple of weeks, and then one weekend the band stopped playing,
and the drummer said "OK, we've got a very special guest
that's gonna come up and play," and I looked around and went
"oh, who's that then...." And then he called out my
name! And I'd never played with anyone before in me life. I sat
behind the drum and they counted me in, and I was actually sitting
there kind of mesmerized because I was actually in time with everyone,
and I'd never played before. After I finished playing, I went
back to the table and the barman of the club [Stan Lane]
came up to me and he said "my brother is playing guitar,
and he's looking to start a band. Do you want me to bring him
down next week?" And I said yeah. So next weekend I was there
and in walks this guy, looking like one of The Beatles with a
starched collar and tie, long hair -- looking great, sort of mod,
you know, real early mod. And every time he turned his head, the
tie and the starched collar stayed exactly the same in the front,
you know -- it was quite weird. And that was Ronnie Lane. The
two of us headed off and started off talking about music, and
just liked each other straight away. It was just meant to be,
you know! When I saw him for the first time, it was like I already
knew 'im -- like I'd known him all my life.
RONNIE LANE: I'd met Kenney Jones earlier on. My brother introduced
me to Kenney, who used to sneak into this public house [pub,
i.e, a bar] and sit in with the band now and then, and Stanley,
my brother, said: "...he's pretty good - you ought to check
him out...," so I already knew Kenney.
KENNEY JONES: Ronnie was already talking to a couple of guys,
and basically the outcome was we formed this band called The Outcasts.
KEN SHARP: Did you do original material or was it mostly covers
in those days?
KENNEY JONES: It was mainly covers, because we were learning
how to play. It was more important to learn how to play than to
write songs. Although Ronnie was writing, too -- he was bravely
beavering away.
KEN SHARP: Your first band was the Blue Men, and you were the
singer?
IAN MCLAGAN: Yeah, no, I played the tea chest bass or the washboard,
whatever, it was a skiffle group. Lonnie Donnegan was like the
father of English rock in one way, you know, 'cause he started
this craze...actually Chris Barber was the father of us all, he
was in Chris Barber's band or was it Ken Collier's band, no Ken
Collier and him formed this group within Chris Barber's band,
and they had a couple of tracks that were on Chris Barber's album
and they became hits. Basically he was doing a kind of, skiffle
was folk, it was kind of rockin' in a way, it was fast but it
wasn't rock, it was kind of folk and blues, it was a strange mixture
... you could play two chords on the guitar and you were laughing,
I couldn't do that. D'ya know what a tea chest is? You'd get a
chest with a broomstick and a piece of string on it and bum bum
bum bum ... well everyone was into that, because it was easy.
You know, a washboard and some thimbles, and away you went.
KEN SHARP: Were you playing keyboards at that time?
IAN MCLAGAN: Oh no, no, much later, I was about 11 or 12 when
I was in the Blue Men, and that band didn't last very long, we
was in a coupla little three-song shows, that was it really.
KEN SHARP: So you were called the Pioneers and then you were
called The Outcasts? Or was it the other way around.
KENNEY JONES: It's a bit confusing. We were called the Pioneers
a bit then we were called the Muleskinners for a bit.
KEN SHARP: Like Mac's band The Muleskinners?
KENNEY JONES: Yeah....but then lots of bands in them days was
called The Pioneers, so then we were called The Outcasts. We only
had the name The Pioneers for about five minutes. I was about
14 or 15 at the time. I lied to Ronnie and told him I was 16,
and I was actually barely 14. But Ronnie says to me later "I
always knew you'd lied."
IAN MCLAGAN: The Muleskinners was my first proper band, you know,
that was because of "Muleskinner Blues," which was by,
who was that now.... I didn't play piano in the first band, I
played rhythm guitar. 'Cause I had a guitar, and I never figured
out how to use it, really, it went out of tune and I couldn't
tune it so I dropped it again, I put it away. Eventually I met
a guy at school -- Terry Monroe -- who played three chords and
his mate Alan Worrell was the drummer -- he was in the Blue Men
as well. He had real drums, and his mate John Eaton played two
chords, and I learned one chord, so we'd do songs where I'd be
on the first chord, then there'd be two other on the second chord....
Actually that wasn't the Muleskinners, that was an offshoot skiffle
group, but I met four of the members that later became the Muleskinners
in art school -- two of them were in a band together called the
Cherokees, and my mate Dave Pethow played lead guitar -- was real
clever at that -- and taught me a bit of rhythm guitar and showed
me some chords, and I was his rhythm guitarist for a short while,
and then Pete Brown, who was also at art school was his bass player.
And then, after a bit I started to turn them on to Muddy Waters
and Howlin' Wolf and Jimmy Reed and shit, 'cause I could do a
basic (mimics sound of blues song), so I turned the group around
basically, and changed the name and became a blues group. And
... Johnny Eaton who played the two chords in that skiffle group
became our singer. I was quite a finagler, y'know, I didn't realize
it at the time, but you look back and you think "what a pushy
little bastard...." You know, you don't know you're doing
it but it's just like, going straight ahead.
I was into the blues, and I met a guy at a party. He said "oh
you like the blues." I said yeah. It was a Saturday night
all-nite party. He said, "oh there's a great blues band playing
up in Richmond." We were in Twickenham, about three miles
away, y'see. I said: "...blues group? Oh you're kidding."
"Yeah they play every Saturday" "fuck -- I wanna
see 'em!" So I met him later the next day and we went down
to see the band -- he didn't tell me they were a white band --
I figured a blues band is all black men, y'know from Chicago or
from the South, and it was the Stones. I couldn't fuckin' believe
it! I found my membership card last time I was in England from
when I went to see them, and it was like 16th of May, 1963, 'cause
it expired 16th of May 1964. They started (sings line like "I'm
a Man"), and I walked down there and they're young fuckin'
white guys. And I thought "...well maybe we can do it."
The night I saw them I thought, well, it's possible. Then I knew
it was possible. I was playing and stuff, I mean we was playin'
blues, but when I saw the Stones it was straight ahead from there,
you know. I'd go see 'em every week, and I'd follow them around
London you know. They were so great! They were rockin'! The whole
thing was a big sweaty experience, and it was a fast drinking
experience for me 'cause I wanted to catch every note they played
so I'd get there early every week. Right in the back there's a
dance hall in a very small room, and a bar in a corner in the
back. It was the Station Hotel in Richmond, the hall called the
Bull and Bush. But ... you'd go in there and you'd order a pint
quick, me and my mate Johnny Eaton, and force our way out -- really
there'd be a crowd of people -- fuckin' push your way to get a
pint, and then crowd your way to the stage and stand there. Then
the band would start playing and you'd finish your pint, and on
the last note you'd run past everybody else, get your pint, and
then drink it down. Two pint night! And at the end of the hour
you'd be so fuckin' drunk 'cause it was just so exhilarating,
you know!
Well, when Johnny Eaton left the group at some point, we had Nick
Tweddell, also from art school on harp, and Mick Carpenter on
drums, who was Dave's old friend from the other group, from the
original group The Cherokees. It was just the five of us, but
then Johnny Eaton left and we auditioned a load of singers. 'Cause
I was thinkin' of it -- I mean, I was kind of professional in
one way, but I was still at art school. The four of us were still
at art school. But I was trying to take it further, I mean basically,
I was thrown out of art school because I was never there. I mean,
we'd have gigs, and I'd be drinking and up late, and would miss
the first half of school. As soon as I found you could miss school
and all you had to do was have a note, I became a professional.
And I just never went. I didn't see the point in it. I had to
do the fourth year twice. I mean, the thrill wore off. As soon
as I found that there was no work for me -- I mean I was OK, I
wasn't great at what I did, but I enjoyed it. But as soon as I
realized when I met other kids at school who had graduated and
were earning small money and spendin' most of it on fares to get
to the West End London office where their jobs were, and not doing
anything but making tea for the real artists and designers. And
these guys were great, too, so I thought what the fuck hope is
there for me gettin' a job, so I thought, fuck this! So I used
to just drink, and I booked the band. I booked the Stones for
the art school, and I booked Rod (Stewart) with the Brian Auger
Trinity. So I eventually got thrown out, and I fought, did the
artwork in the summer holidays, got accepted back into art school,
got the grant, and then fucked off and became a professional musician.
I got to town every day, and haunted the Stones office for more
work every day from their agent, Eric Easton. And I got the band
opening for the Stones on a short tour around England. And at
that point, I was singin'! It wasn't very good (laughing). I was
even doing miraculous things [moves, we think he meant]
like Mick! Embarrassing!
So then we got a real singer in, Terry Brennan. And this is all
happening in about 6-9 months and a year -- '63-'64 -- and we
got him in and he was a real soulful singer, he had a lot of great
records and stuff. After a bit, I thought I figured this out on
guitar, let me see if I can figure it out on piano. I got a Hohner
pianet at home -- no, it was a Cymballet, which was even worse.
You would hit the keys no matter how soft or loud and it was all
the same volume, so you can't play gentle with it. If you hit
it, it doesn't make it any louder. So, I played it for a bit and
... it's all in the book, folks. As soon as I heard "Green
Onions" by Booker T and the MG's, I said what the fuck is
that? I want that! That was the first time I heard a Hammond organ
-- that's when I first realized that was a Hammond organ.
I picked it up pretty quick. I saw an ad for a Hammond organ,
free two weeks on approval to go home. So I had some balls, I
said yeah, I'll have that Hammond organ for two weeks, and they
brought it down. I wasn't at college, my parents didn't know I
wasn't at college. They brought it down and I had to explain it
to my dad later that day. After two weeks, the guys had to sign
the forms, and I bought one.
See on the piano, you got to be clever, and on the Hammond you
can hit a chord and hold it -- you don't have to do too much with
it. Of course, the trick is to do something with that. So I started
playing it, and soon after that I was offered a job playing with
another band -- we used to play at the Marquee a lot. That was
the Boz People, and they saw me play there -- their manager did;
they asked me if I would join this band, and Muleskinners were
doing OK, but this was serious. I was with them about five months
and realized they were a bunch of losers -- I mean, they didn't
care. And then I got a phone call to join the Small Faces.
