December 2002
Quite often an artist goes a strange way - from fame to oblivion,
and too rare he finds a way back. Whether the greatness is lost on that
road is a hard question to answer. Fortunately, there's one of those
rare birds to put it straight: Ray Bennett, who shot to glory in the
'70s with FLASH and made his solo return... only to get back to his old
band, whose reunion was happening at the time of our interview.
- Do you have the answer to a question that always keeps me
wondering: why brilliant musicians like you often all but disappear off
sight?
This first question is really difficult to answer, but thanks for asking
it in a complimentary way.
This is a complicated thing. So many factors - personal, musical,
business, opportunities lost (and never had), and the times we live in.
We all know about personal quirks that get in the way, and drugs, and
all kinds of anxieties and insecurities, and being screwed by record
companies and managers. So many stories now in all the books,
documentaries and memoirs. Why they got discouraged, why they lost
faith. These are long, sometimes very bitter, but sometimes very
uplifting stories. It doesn't always work out the way it's supposed to.
Humans are not rational creatures for the most part, so the way it works
out is not rational.
Sometimes a musician just hates the idea of being exploited or
controlled, and is happier going his obscure way. Sometimes dropping out
of sight is by far the best thing for personal survival and salvation.
Compromised principles, devious behaviour, and greed pervade the music
world and sometimes all of it converges in one place, making you want to
run for the hills. Why did THE BEATLES break up, for Christ's sake? Why
did George Harrison take up gardening? Why does a manager keep an
artist under contract, then doesn't do anything, and then won't let him
go? All of the above, very subjective. Why does a band or artist lose
all his money in a bad deal that he shouldn't have signed in the first
place, and then decides that he hates music? Why
does someone's divorce, or a band break-up, or hair falling out, or
insecurity about playing ability, or lack of a hit record, or a death in
the family - you-name-the-tragedy - take all the wind out of their
sails leaving them devastated and feeling uncreative? Why does too much
money
make someone miserable and unproductive? It's all subjective and
personal.
It's naive to believe that brilliance and talent will always win out
when we see so much evidence to the contrary, but it can. In the
beginning, or during the middle, or at the end, despite all that
discourages it, or conspires against it. In my case it's some of the
above - except no drugs. I could give you my history, in brief. The blow
by blow, decade by decade account of the ups
and downs. It's a bit of everything, good and bad. It would be a long
"brief" story, and there is insight to be gained I'm sure. I've
certainly gained some, but it's not really necessary to know all the
details. That should all be in my book! (Am I writing one? - No.) Buy
me a drink at
the bar and I'll tell you a few good stories. Overall, I'm in very good
spirits (no pun intended) and in very good shape in everyway, despite
some set-backs and heartaches. I've had enough of them to know what is
good to keep and what is good to eject from my life, and now I feel the
benefits of all my experience. It's showing in my music - and survival
instincts.
Somewhere in the Eighties - which was a slump for me - I reaffirmed my
vows to music. Musicianship is like a priesthood. It requires faith and
steady work, sometimes with little support, reward, or encouragement.
All players know this. Some crumble, or get distorted by it, and some
have little problem with any of it, they get stronger. But even with
success you still have to decide to continue that promise to yourself.
My reaffirmation was a silent moment, but I noticed. It definitely
happened. And it was a more profound vow than I had ever made when I was
young. It means much more now. I'm still here doing this, and loving
it.
- Why did it take you so long to come back? Why now?
There has always been a lot going on musically. Always busy with
something. Out of sight? Yes and no. Yes, on the big stages. But I've
been around and had many interesting projects. Why so long to do a solo
album? I didn't think of it until the Eighties, and I had no record deal
then. That was a rough period for me to get it together. Pretty much as
outlined in the first question. I lost momentum. I lost faith. The
business changed. Also, I changed roles, from bass to guitar.
That was an important move. I developed steadily and sometimes changed
dramatically as a musician along the way. As time has gone by I have
blossomed in all areas - playing, singing, writing. I've become more
comfortable with myself, and become the musician I always wanted to be.
Lots of reading, yoga, more spiritual awareness. I'm still developing!
Everything in my life that used to be hard to deal with seems to have
sorted itself out over the last few years. And perhaps there was my own
requirement to be better, and take the time to do it. Maybe that's why
now I feel ready. It's not the way it's supposed to happen, but so what?
I never really thought much about the future, how things would go, but I
always wanted something that was truly mine. Like THE BEATLES. I wanted
to be like them. Maybe I'll have the last laugh. Going on, after
all my old pals have quit.
One thing I've found is that it's essential in an artist's life to
become your own man, and that's easier said than done. But if you can do
it sooner rather than later, all the better. You have to create
yourself. Be the author of your own life - to be truly "here". The word
"authentic" comes to
mind. A true artist invents himself. You must not be a copy, or a type.
You have to be as unique as an artist as you are as a person, otherwise
you are a simple craftsman, following familiar practices. To be an
artist you have to take your own journey. Even if it means rejecting
everything you know - or being rejected by it. Being an artist is like
constantly being reborn, but in a very conscious way. Much is said about
the journey of life, but the musician's life is such an obvious example
- through time and experience. No matter what happens, those who really
love music have the most fun, and stay with it. My path has steadily
led me back to now being more visible, more available and more
confident.
- On your return, you brought up two albums, "Whatever Falls",
a new one and an archive collection, "Angels &
Ghosts". Was the latter meant as a thread between your past and
present?
Simple answer, yes. I wanted to show where I was and where I've come to
now. I thought that would be interesting for those who know me and
helpful for people who don't. There's one noticeable chronological gap
on "Angels & Ghosts" - the Eighties. That is because most of the CD
is a song format or short instrumental pieces and during the early to
mid-Eighties I did some long abstracted instrumental pieces. These would
have dominated the CD time-wise and taken on a very different mood.
They would be better as a separate collection. So I tried to keep
whatever worked together. Overall, it's a large time period to cover and
that's not usually done on one CD other than on a "Big Hits" type of
thing.
There is quite a bit more to come from my archives. Particularly from
the Nineties. when I owned a recording studio and spent a lot of time
writing and recording tracks. I hope to release it all eventually. But I
tend to focus on what I'm doing at the present, it will have to wait
for a convenient time.
- How did it come to FLASH to reform?
The background to this goes way back really. It didn't just reappear out
of nothing. FLASH should have, and could have, done more. We all
realised that later. We simply didn't grapple with some of the difficult
realities of a successful band very well. There were tough decisions to
be made and decisive actions to be taken, and there were management
problems. We didn't deal with some of it at all well. But there was much
about FLASH that was great, and we did a lot of things right. We made
some good records and did good tours - playing in front of
thousands. The band was well received, well remembered and we had a good
time. Overall, FLASH was a success, so the idea of trying it again has
always been attractive. Now, I think we are very appreciative of what we
did, and understand well what we didn't do. The idea to reform first
came up in 1980, and we did get together and play a few times when we
were all living in Los Angeles, but there was no real positive consensus
then. There were lots of reasons why. The business atmosphere of the
time, personal things etcetera. Going back before that to the Seventies,
we played in various projects together right after FLASH, and you have
to wonder now why the hell we didn't just reform then.
After 1982, we stopped seeing each other, all of us left LA eventually
and went our separate ways. I eventually lost contact completely and had
no idea where any of them were. For me, FLASH was pretty much put to
rest during most of the Eighties. Although when people asked me about
the band I was pleased to talk about it and pleased we were well thought
of. Over time I became aware that FLASH was not going to be forgotten.
When the albums came out on CD in the early Nineties, I imagined what it
would be like playing together again. Of course I didn't know who the
other guys were anymore. I assumed they would be the same, but like
myself, more grown up and better musicians. Also the live CD
,"Psychosync", which came out in 1997, really brought it all back. I
didn't know that tape existed, it was a bootleg of a radio broadcast. I
have no gig tapes. Hearing us live for
the first time in years was a real flashback ! I was there. That made it
very real again.
About three years ago, when I first got online, people who I hadn't
heard from in years were finding me. One was an old FLASH roadie and he
put me in touch with the other guys. This was around early 2001. I also
found
Sidonie Jordan too the previous year through a prog rock website. The
phone calls with Colin and Mike were great. We were all really happy to
find each other again and it went quite quickly to talking about doing
some
music together and then to reforming FLASH. Colin said he saw it as
unfinished business. That's how it feels to me too. Reconnecting was
very easy with Mike and Colin, but less so with Peter. We had some
difficult times through the early years, so I wasn't surprised about
that.
Six months ago we started making real plans after I met a new manager
named Leonardo Pavkovic. He also manages Allan Holdsworth and the new
SOFTWARE project, and PFM. He's a progressive rock and jazz fan, so we
got talking about the idea of a reformed FLASH. He has strong
convictions regarding the lasting appeal of our kind of music, and was
enthusiastic about getting it together. All the pieces then started
falling into place and I was really happy with the whole idea, but the
conversations between Peter and everyone else - the rest of the band and
the management - got very bogged down. It just wasn't coming together
with him. That's how it was when we broke up in '73. There was a kind of
stalemate of unresolved differences between Pete and the rest of us
regarding general attitudes and feelings towards FLASH, business - and
life. We had tried putting them aside in the past whenever we worked on
something, but it was obvious now that they have become more extreme and
any
compromise would not work. Colin and Mike, and I, felt that it was now
finally conclusive. Whatever thoughts we had about what might have been
in the past, or whether the band in it's original state would work now,
were all clarified. We decided to do this with a fresh approach, without
Peter. From that moment on, everything moved forward in a positive way.
It never occurred to me that I would be a good choice as FLASH's
guitarist. I certainly never considered it before. It suddenly seemed
like the right way to go. We briefly thought about getting someone else,
but that didn't feel right.
After all these years as a guitarist trying out different things, I, and
FLASH, have arrived in the same place. Totally serendipitous. So with
Colin and Mike's agreement, I made the choice to change roles. I began
thinking of FLASH as my main thing, I wrote a good deal of the FLASH
music anyway, and I didn't mind putting my solo stuff to the side.
I am as eclectic in style as Pete and have been finding it quite
comfortable getting into the old guitar parts. I'm blending what he did
with my own approach and keeping whatever seems vital to the piece from a
compositional
standpoint, but there is plenty of room to play with it all. Pete did
some great stuff, quite brilliant at times, and you have to remember
that this was music made by very young guys. As I said, I have new
respect for it. It's all the more remarkable because it still stands up
well today. With a little polish it will all sound new again. What's
different today, for me, is two important things. A new appreciation and
respect for what we did. The old stuff doesn't sound old. Also, I can
see how to take the band forward into new territory. I like that idea. I
never had a clear vision of that before.
- What did you work on right before it happened?
I was finishing off my two CDs when we first started talking. I had
already made a deal with Voiceprint and was starting to do promotion
too. The CDs came out in November 2001. I was also thinking about the
next step, forming
a band. At that point FLASH was still a bit vague, but enticing. I
thought it would be great to finally have a happy ending to the story.
By the spring of 2002 the talks started getting more serious. I still
hadn't yet put a band together and I started feeling very involved in
FLASH, so the picture shifted a bit. I guess the timing was perfect for
me.
Initially, playing bass again was a nice idea. I was digging it. The
challenge and creativity for bass is definitely there in the FLASH way
of doing things. I was looking forward to working on new stuff too, but I
was also aware that a lot of bass with FLASH - if the band got very
busy - could mean a lot of NOT playing guitar, so I was a little
concerned. I would miss that. Before too long though I was learning the
guitar parts. Life is strange.
- For many, FLASH conjures up not the music but the album jackets.
How did the idea of those panties appear? I think, there's no
connection to the band's name...
Yes, there definitely was. A flash of a girl's ass - wonderful to
behold. That was an idea from Hipgnosis, the English company that
designed covers. They did PINK FLOYD, LED ZEPPELIN and many more, great
covers. There's a book of all of them. They were known for innovative
and unusual ideas. As I remember the panty flash idea idea came up
fairly quickly and we said, "Fine, we'll go with that." Not a lot of
time wasted over deciding. I think that first cover was done with style -
not particularly sexual, more surrealistic. The second one was done by
Capitol Records. We had nothing to do with that. It was more blatant. We
didn't like it as much, but it got attention. I was never bothered by
what people thought. It all started to become legend that
we did sexist covers deliberately to get attention, but it was all very
casual and just happened with no particular intent.
- After the FLASH demise, you played in some bands, one with
Colin Carter and another promoted in 1977 with that funny interview
included in "Angels & Ghosts". What were the names of the ensembles?
Good question - I don't remember. The one with Colin and MIke never
settled on a name as I recall, but BLAZE was one idea. I didn't like it.
A record company's idea. We did play some gigs, but not a lot. I don't
remember what happened when we stepped on-stage, and they said, "And
now, let's hear it for..." One was my band, just my name - for that
interview. The one with Peter
Banks and Sidonie Jordan didn't play any gigs and had no name. It later
became EMPIRE, after I left. All in all, they were bands that were in
their beginning stages.
- A long time ago you were in GUN. I presume, it's not the GUN
who scored with "Race With The Devil"?
Yes, it was the same band. Jon Anderson got me
that gig. They were a fairly big deal in the UK around the time, around
1969, very loud. It was called "hard rock" then, I believe. An early
heavy metal band, but that term wasn't used yet. Jon had never even
heard me play. Later on he said that, as I had played with Bill, he
thought I must be OK. Very nice of him to do that, I was very young
then. He had been the singer with the GUN for a very brief time. Neither
one of
us worked out. In my case it was because their bass player had wanted to
switch to rhythm
guitar. It had been a three piece. So I came along, rehearsed a lot and
played some gigs. The guy wasn't happy on guitar and they wanted to go
back to the way it was, so I was out.
A very ironic showbiz moment occurred in all of this. As I was a friend
of Bill's and flat broke, I was staying with the YES guys - sleeping on
the floor at their apartment. One gig with the GUN, they were the
headliner and YES were on the same bill. I was picked up in a luxury car
and whisked off to the venue. YES all piled into their van for a long
ride. YES played a good set. Ours was interrupted by several power
failures. Ainsley Dunbar's band played after the GUN's set, and their
bass player was under the influence of something and couldn't play.
Apparently, they were looking for me to fill in, but because I left in
the GUN's car right after our set and was not hanging around waiting for
a van to be loaded, I missed out. That would have been fun - and maybe a
job. So after my "starring role" I travelled back to London in comfort,
getting home way before YES did in their van. But they went off to
their rooms and their beds and I went back to the hallway and slept on
the floor. One week I spent most of my salary from the GUN on a pair of
boots. I got fired the following week.
- You played with two of the greatest drummers, Bill Bruford
and Roger Taylor. Which of them did you, as a bassist, find it more
interesting to make a rhythm section?
I played with Roger Taylor very briefly during 1969, my first year as a
professional musician, but I met many people in London then who later
became well known. Greg Lake, Simon Kirke, the YES men of course, many
others. I was in and out of bands rapidly for a while. The rock world in
London at that time was busy, energetic and creative. A lot of people
were trying things out, looking for a great formula or a great line up.
Roger Taylor had a band called SMILE, which later gradually turned into
QUEEN. I never really formed an opinion about him. I thought he was a
very nice guy and I had a feeling we could have got along very well. I
actually don't remember his drumming then. I remember his forthright
personality. A good guy.
I played with Bill over a longer period and we remained friends, so I
know a lot more about him. That was a long time ago at the very
beginning of our careers. I thought we played together very well. Bill
didn't like THE BEATLES much and I loved them, so I mistrusted him from
the start! In fact, we came from very different backgrounds and were a
bit suspicious of each other to begin with, but despite that we became
friends. He liked my bass playing and was impressed because I'd only
been playing a couple of weeks! Bill really hit the drums hard and was
very enthusiastic. We were both very good even from the start. I
remember him bouncing around very excited when
things went well, even jumping up from the drums to shake my hand if I
played something he liked. We were a pretty forceful rhythm section for a
couple of kids. And quite musical. I was with the beat,
rhythm-and-blues and blues camp, and Bill was with the jazz camp. We
sort of met in the middle at that time. As we grew up, we seemed to
develop different attitudes to music and have taken very different
directions in life.
- Could you, please, tell a bit more of those pre-FLASH bands?
Well, that early teenage band with Bill was called THE ORIGINAL BREED
BLUESBAND, or simply THE BREED. I was involved in it from it's inception
with Bill to it's last breath, when the players had changed quite a few
times. All about three years, but It seemed like a lifetime. We did a
lot of gigs and I made some good money for a school kid. I have many
good memories of all that. It was a lot of fun and an amazingly good
learning experience musically. We grew as players, through blues,
rhythm-and-blues and some jazz and were very popular. Bill was at
boarding school and couldn't play all gigs, but he was always very
involved. He got out when he could. Sometimes we had two drummers. The
other guy, Pete Skinner, was very good too.
Later, I went to art school for two and a half years. That was quite
serious for a while. I stopped playing. But mainly my teachers and
parents pushed me into it. I did love painting and drawing and the whole
world of visual art, and for a while I was going that way. n the middle
of art college I took a break and played with a cover band in Spain for
a couple of months. The main significance of that is that I had a
wonderful time, it was like a real professional gig, playing every night
and on the road with our entourage. That tipped the scales. I was
passionate about
music, couldn't live without it. Art school faded away and I moved to
London to be a "pro".
During that period, checking out the London scene, I was looking for
something special - I didn't know quite what - but I didn't find it. The
first thing after art school was a bluesband. Oddly enough, Guy
Shepherd, the drummer in that band, used to play with Tony Kaye in THE
FEDERALS - back in Leicester, where they both came from. It was just an
OK band, but we
had fun. My criteria for success then was good music, having fun and
hopefully making enough money to get by. It hasn't changed much since
then! Maybe more money and better music. I met Simon Kirke, who was just
beginning as the drummer with FREE. He was a flatmate of our guitarist.
I remember Simon washing his hair a lot and always wearing the same
clothes.
Alexis Korner was kind enough to advise our band on the sound and
direction. I heard that he also advised LED ZEPPELIN and FREE. He was an
enormously respected man on the British music scene. He did a lot to
make people aware of rhythm-and-blues and the blues. He showed that
British musicians could play it without too much imitation and infuse
their own ideas.
There was a short lived band with Thunderclap Newman on piano. We never
played a gig, but we used to rehearse in a small flat, in the kitchen,
with the piano in the hallway outside. Somehow it all worked out. Then
there was BABYLON with a bluesy singer named Carol Grimes. We were
supposed to go on tour with BLIND FAITH, we had the same management, but
they broke up and everything was put on hold, so I left. I thought that
would have been a
good band.
I went on numerous auditions and had one night gigs occasionally -
filling in for someone. There was even some lounge type work, hotel
stuff. Awful. I played terribly because I didn't know the old standards
very well. And then came the GUN.
I also saw a lot of great bands in London from about 1966 to 1969. That
was a wonderful time for new things in music. Seeing and hearing so many
people who are now huge names and legends obviously had a big impact on
me. It would have been an education in diversity, if nothing else, but
it was much more. Jimi Hendrix, John Mayall's various bands, CREAM, THE
ROLLING STONES, the first KING CRIMSON, THE NICE, and, of course, jazz,
blues and folk. A
long list, and almost all inspirational.
In the autumn of 1969 I went to live in the USA for two years - age 19
to 21. I did some casual stuff playing bass, or guitar, with whoever was
around, always finding young hippie bands to jam with. I auditioned for
THE BLUES PROJECT, which had once been a big name, but failed that. I
was too English, or too young, or too unbluesy, I don't know. I toyed
around with recording at home and different guitar tunings. The whole
American vibe got into me. I came to understand the culture better and
the different attitudes to musicianship. A liberating experience. I
suppose I fell in love with the USA then. I definitely fell in love with
Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Neil Young and CSN. I always had a strong
interest in acoustic music and vocal harmony. British and American. But
the main thing that happened to me during this time was songwriting.
Much of my early writing for FLASH came from this period.
YES were beginning to happen in the States in 1971, which really
surprised me. Also surprising was to find out that Peter Banks had left.
Bill Bruford and I had stayed in touch and he mentioned that Pete was
looking for a bass player. So shortly after I returned to the UK in the
summer of 1971 I called Pete, and FLASH started.
- How do you remember Alexis Korner?
As I mentioned before, I met him briefly when he came down to check out
my blues band. That was in 1968, I was still at art school. I was
nervous because it was a critique, but he was kind, with good
suggestions. It was remarkably generous for him to take the time to come
and see a bunch of unknown kids. Before that I saw posters around South
London and the suburbs, in the mid-Sixties, advertising "Alexis
Korner's BLUES INCORPORATED" before I knew who he was. The name
intrigued me. Unusual, I thought it was very hip. Later I found out how
many English blues and rock names were associated with him. I also
discovered an album of his around 1966 which became a favourite. Some
friends and I hung out together a lot that summer and played a handful
of records over and over again. THE BEATLES, STONES, John Mayall,
Mingus, Dave Brubeck, Miles Davis, and Alexis Korner. I forget now what
the album's title was, I don't have that record anymore, but Jack Bruce
played on it, also Dick
Heckstall-Smith. It had been around for a couple of years already
and by '66 those two had been with the Graham Bond band for a while,
another of my favourites, so they also drew my attention to Alexis. One
thing that impressed me was that he wrote all the tracks overnight and
recorded it the next day. That was impressive. I liked the overall loose
feel and the memorable compositions. It was one of those records that I
didn't get tired of. One track was called "Sappho", and I read in the
liner notes that this was named after his daughter. Years later, in the
Seventies, I was introduced to her in the "Marquee" bar in London. I was
very happy to be able to tell her that I knew her already from that
album. She was very surprised and gave me a great smile.
- Who of the "swinging" London scene you still remain friends
with?
From the music biz, almost no one other than FLASH, and Bill Bruford
occasionally. Also, Sidonie Jordan, and a few old personal friends. If
you mean the "swinging Sixties", I was fairly young for most of it. I
was still at school and then art school until 1969, but with my band
activities and going to clubs and hanging around London, from about 1966
on, I did meet a lot of people. Where are they now? I have no idea
about most of them, except the ones who are now famous, like Phil
Collins - and I haven't seen him in years. Seems like I've had many
lives, I've moved many
times since then. During the Seventies I was living in London, but
travelling a lot, mostly in America. In the late Seventies I moved here.
I did run into a lot of English musicians I knew in the Sixties when I
lived in LA in the late Seventies - early Eighties, but they were mostly
casual drinking buddies, not close friends. I suppose if I went back to
London to live I would find people again, but my life is now very much
as a New Yorker.
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