#23 Stories from the Edge of Music: Eric Idle leaves Monty Python behind and goes on the road
… and a quiet word from Bonnie Raitt
For six months now, Richard Flohil has been publishing stories here, usually every week or 10 days. They’re the memories of a man who’s spent far too many years as a music publicist, writer, club talent booker, concert promoter, festival organizer and a serious music fan (he’s been to 26 live music shows so far this year).
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ERIC IDLE: KEEPING A BLOG ON THE GREEDY BASTARD TOUR
When Monty Python co-founder Eric Idle decided to go on the road in 2004 — post Python and Spamalot — he called his 50-date trek The Greedy Bastard Tour.
The title, he explained, came from a rock and roll maxim: the first time you go on tour you take a band, lights, pyro and smoke bombs, a huge stage set, half a dozen tour buses and 60 roadies.
It costs a fortune, and the only money the artist makes comes from flogging “merch” — T-shirts and CDs and (if they’re a country artist) belt-buckles and cowboy hats.
The next time you tour, however, you show up on your own with a guitar, charge the same money, and make millions. Jackson Browne and Peter Gabriel, among many others, have followed this script and it works.
The mechanics of travelling on multi-date tours have changed. In the ’50s, rock and roll tour managers just chartered a Greyhound bus, packed everyone on board, and you slept sitting up; once every four or five days, you got a hotel room and a chance to shower, change your clothes and do your laundry.
It’s very different today. You travel in a luxury bus, complete with master bedroom, bunks, running water, a refrigerator and a microwave oven, and a toilet that works.
Someone else does the driving. You stay in the spacious bedroom at the back of the bus. Your colleagues and crew are there to keep you company and there’s the news channel on the TV, and a collection of videos you always meant to watch but haven’t got around to yet. This is Spinal Tap is a favourite.
The rumbling isolation of a rock and roll tour bus is, initially, exciting, but it gets boring and claustrophobic after a day or two. That said, it is without question preferable to endless lineups in airports and — as Idle put it — the daily opportunity to show your socks to strangers.
And he was looking forward to three months of a luxurious tour bus. He’d be sharing it with a small road crew, two cast members and pianist/co-writer John Du Prez. And people who organized backstage costume changes and made tea…
An artist who’s easy to work with
Idle was a gift for his publicists. He was always available, he was willing (and able) to be cheerful on early morning television and radio shows, he had an inexhaustible supply of Python stories, some killer one-liners, and was genuinely friendly to everyone he met. “You should change your national anthem,” he would tell Canadians. “Instead of O Canada it should be Oh, Sorry.”
I took him through the paces for five days: CBC radio and television, Global, CTV’s Canada AM show and half a dozen daily newspaper interviews. The only disaster was a late-night CBC television show hosted by Jian Ghomeshi, which died a natural death before he was given the national morning show on CBC Radio. That TV interview was sloppy. Everyone was trying so hard that the resulting show was a mess. I apologized to Eric; he shrugged and told me he’d done worse shows in the past.
However, we did run into another problem on an early “morning zoo” show on a local radio station. As he was singing his “hit” — a single-entendre joke called “Sit On My Face and Tell Me That You Love Me” — he glanced up to see a news channel on a TV set over the host’s shoulder.
A rolling on-screen listing of upcoming shows included his Massey Hall concerts, but said they were by Billy Idol, not Eric Idle. I hadn’t noticed it, but he had — and he mentioned it to his U.S. publicist, a disagreeable woman who called me an hour later.
“You have to send a news release to your entire cross-Canada media list,” she told me firmly. “This has to be corrected immediately. It is most damaging, and I want to hear from you within the hour that this is done.”
Ignoring her instructions as rudely-delivered overkill, I simply called the television station. They were very sorry; a young intern had made the mistake. It would be fixed immediately, and they would triple the number of times it would be repeated.
A Python-esque blog, written every afternoon
In between interviews and lunches and meetings in his Sutton Place suite, Eric sipped herbal tea and ate crackers and typed his daily blog.
I read it with keen attention; it was hilariously funny. However, two days into his stay in Toronto, I was referred to as “my old geezer publicist in Toronto,” which needed a response. I wrote a stern e-mail: “Dear Eric, I am only six years older than you are, and I do not have gout.”
In the book he fashioned from the blog (The Greedy Bastard Diary, published by Harper Collins), my reputation was slightly rescued: “Sir Richard of York, my temporary PR man, who has long flowing white hair and battles along like a cross between Max Wall and Shakespeare’s cheerful Richard III…
“He looks at me as though I am mad (to undertake this tour)… To him, the very thought of being stuck for weeks on a tour bus is insane.”
And he was to discover, as he explained in his book, that I was right.
One brief postscript: Eric fired his unpleasant American publicist. She was unable to figure out the disparate time zones, and as a result several interviews in the United States had Idle showing up an hour early, or, worse, an hour or two late.
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… AND A QUICK NOTE FROM BONNIE RAITT
Two weeks ago, I wrote about the death of my friend Dick Waterman, and I carelessly forgot to include this affectionate note from Bonnie Raitt.
“I’m deeply sorry to mark the passing of my friend, Dick Waterman, who made such a huge impact on the lives and careers of so many great blues artists, championing them as people as much as their music, booking and managing them with great care, integrity and skill.
“He gave me my start as well, going on to book and represent me for 15 years. He was also a renowned photographer who published a book of his wonderful photographs of some of our most legendary roots artists... He packed a great deal into his 88 years. We are so sorry to lose him and I am deeply grateful for the gifts he gave me and the life he lived.”
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BOUQUETS OF ROSES TO MY CO-CONSPIRITORS
Thanks to my daughter Jill Flohil for copy editing the stuff I write (she can tell if I’ve incorrectly written an apostrophe in the wrong font).
And special thanks to
, who prepares the final versions of these Substacks and gets them up online for me — a task I am technically foggy about and would prefer to leave to an expert.Incidentally, Michael has his own Substack newsletter,
. I’ve discovered a lot of new music reading his work, and he also adds a terrific list of upcoming music events in what is now the fourth-largest city in North America.++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SIGNS OF THE TIMES
This will need to be explained for readers outside the U.K. In Canada, we call “zebra crossings” crosswalks. And they call speed bumps “humps.”
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FINALLY, SOME VIDEO LINKS FOR YOUR WEEKEND
One way to describe English “folk” is music based on Anglo-Saxon traditions independent of influences from continental Europe or African American innovations. This music also involves, in various ways, the presence of beer. So here are three terrific videos with a distinctly English vibe.
First, astonishing six-part harmony from the veteran band Steeleye Span. When I die I want this played at some sort of “celebration of life” — there won’t be a funeral! (PS: At the end of this remarkable vocal tour de force there’s a totally unnecessary orchestral coda. Skip it!)
Secondly, Oyster Band was one of the best live groups I’ve ever seen, but apparently they’re coming off the road so we won’t see them in Canada again. You’ll love the energy of this old sea shanty story song. Play it loud!
I’m late with this, but I don’t think this band, Skinny Lister, has been to Canada yet — but they’re ready to step into Oyster Band’s shoes or match the Pogues in full cry… and it makes me want to start drinking again!
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A POSTSCRIPT FOR TORONTO READERS
My friend Andrea Ramolo has curated a marvelous line up for a special concert at Hugh’s Room (296 Broadview near Gerrard) next Thursday March 8 to celebrate International Women’s Day (which is actually the day after)… A perfect opportunity and time to hear Melissa McLelland of Whitehorse, Caroline Brooks of the Good Lovelies, Brenley McEachern of Madison Violet, Tanika Charles, Skye Wallace, Amanda Rheaume, and more. I hope Andrea will sing as well!
It’s a 7 p.m. set time and tickets are here but should also be at the door (open at 6:30). Tell Andrea I sent you!
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Thanks for being here! Dunno what we’ll have for you next week, but hopefully it’ll be interesting/amusing/informative…
Eric Idle’s hit song reminds me of this lil’ gem by Marty and the Mufftones…
https://youtu.be/m5VRX6cbdH4?si=JXhjl1cZdoYEcT84
Hi Richard.
I've seen Skinny Lister in Toronto twice and the band has been here more than that. It's an entertaining live act that will probably be back in Toronto in September for Frank Turner's four-night Lost Evening's festival.
I hope to see you around soon, perhaps at the Empty Glasses first anniversary show upstairs at The Rivoli on Sunday at 3 p.m.