Confessions of a Donovan Fan - Concert Encounters 1967-1998

by Stuart Penney

Music has never been more easily accessible than it is today. For better or worse we live in an age where virtually all the recorded music in the world is instantly available at our fingertips, much of it free.  But go back a generation or so, perhaps just three or four decades and things were very different. Back then we consumed our music mainly in the form of vinyl records.  They were expensive to buy, costly to ship, easily damaged and, in Britain in particular, anything outside the mainstream was often frustratingly difficult to obtain.  

Luckily at that time London had a sprinkling of import shops where record buyers could find solace.  Here it was possible to purchase US pressings of albums that were either not yet released in Britain or, if they were available, the American versions were often more desirable, with deluxe heavy-duty gatefold sleeves, posters and other paraphernalia.  Exactly the kind of place where one might discover records by Donovan, in fact. 

Due to a complicated legal situation, the details of which I’ll spare you here, in the mid-60s Donovan’s UK catalogue was caught up in a contractual wrangle, which meant much of his output was simply not available in Britain.  To put that in perspective, of the seven studio LPs he released in America between 1966 and 1969, only one was issued in his home country. That’s why I became a regular at the West End branches of import specialists One Stop Records and Musicland, picking up imported copies of albums which would not be released locally for many months, if at all.

 

Then in December of 1967 I hit pay dirt.  There it was, nestling in the new arrivals rack of Musicland in Berwick Street: Donovan’s A Gift From A Flower To A Garden, an extravagantly packaged double LP box set with otherworldly psychedelic artwork.  Inside was a folder containing illustrated lyric sheets for each song. One of the records contained 10 strange and wonderful acid rock tracks recorded with a full band while the other featured a dozen wistful solo acoustic guitar numbers with just a flute (or occasionally bird noises and a crying baby!) for accompaniment.  The title was embossed along the spine in silver foil and glued on the back of the box was a picture of Donovan holding hands with man of the moment, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Was this lovingly crafted artefact pop’s first-ever boxed set? If there had been another, I certainly hadn’t seen it. But just as importantly it would not be released in Britain for another five months.  What could be more desirable?

Musicland, Berwick Street in central London. It opened
in the late 60s and closed in 1975

Donovan's first LP, US and UK versions 1965

Donovan toured Britain with the Byrds in 1965

My Donovan preoccupation began in early 1965 after he became a regular performer on the TV pop show “Ready Steady Go!” I saved up to buy his May 1965 debut album What’s Bin Did And What’s Bin Hid (titled Catch The Wind in the US) and learned to play most of the songs, aping his simple but distinctive guitar style on my cheap acoustic.The passion continued apace through the manufactured “Dylan vs Donovan” music press hype and arrived undiminished at his psychedelic minstrel period, by which time it had become a full-blown obsession.  Of course, at the same time I was equally infatuated with Bob Dylan and the Beatles. But while Dylan and the Fab Four were clearly way beyond the reach of mere mortals Donovan, with his dreamy ragamuffin image, appeared far more accessible.  

By late 1966 the contractual problems which had temporarily stalled his UK recording career seemed to be resolved and when I read in the pop papers that he was to perform a showcase solo concert at the Royal Albert Hall on January 15, 1967, I knew I had to be there.

Royal Albert Hall – January 1967

I took the early train from Sheffield to London and, pausing only to check out the West End guitar and record stores, arrived at the Albert Hall in the afternoon of the concert and hung around the stage door.  Before long Donovan arrived for the soundcheck in his chauffeur-driven blue Daimler 2.5 V8 (a prestigious badge-engineered Jaguar). It didn’t seem especially unusual that he was carrying a bunch of flowers (gladioli, as I recall) which he proceeded to distribute among the handful of waiting fans – this was 1967, after all.  I didn’t secure a flower, but I did manage to get my concert programme signed. 

This was my first visit to the 5,000 seat Royal Albert Hall and I found the ornate 19th century architecture mightily impressive.  Completed in 1871 in the Italianate style, the building was originally intended to be called the Central Hall of Arts and Sciences but was re-named the Royal Albert Hall of Arts and Sciences by Queen Victoria in memory of her husband, Prince Albert, who died in 1861.  The hall seemed enormous in 1967 but as rock venues have grown over the decades it now appears almost intimate compared to the concrete sports arenas of today.

The event was titled “The Sonnets of Donovan”, which was printed on the concert tickets and the full colour programme.  That title sounds a little ostentatious now, but I later discovered the word sonnet comes from the Italian “sonetto”, meaning “little song” (the grander Shakespearean meaning seemingly came later) so we can perhaps forgive Donovan a little hubris on this occasion.

This homecoming concert was a landmark event in the British pop world.  Donovan had spent several months touring America during 1966 and his transition from denim-clad folkie to chart-topping psychedelic troubadour had been rapid.  As 1967 dawned, he was the toast of London, and it was even rumoured that George Harrison and Paul McCartney were in the audience for this show.

Dressed in yellow satin shirt and a floor-length embroidered robe, he performed on acoustic guitar throughout with backup from flautist Harold McNair, Danny Thompson on double bass and percussionist ‘Candy’ John Carr.  Also present were Shawn Phillips on 12 string guitar and sitar, plus Tony Carr, drums. John Cameron played harpsichord and provided arrangements for a string quartet from The London Philharmonic. 
Much of the set list was unfamiliar, drawing almost exclusively from the Sunshine Superman, Mellow Yellow and A Gift From A Flower To A Garden albums, all unreleased in the UK at that time.  Twice during the show Donovan introduced “Vali” a flame-haired Australian dancer he'd met in Italy who, according to a 1967 New Musical Express review of the concert “writhed cat-like” during extended versions of “Legend of a Girl Child Linda” and “Season of the Witch”.

Royal Albert Hall concert programme cover, January 1967

We lived in more innocent times back then and security for a concert such as this was virtually non-existent.  So as the house lights came up and the audience drifted away, I casually jumped up on the stage and walked down the tunnel to the backstage area unchallenged. Just like that. No laminates, no access all areas pass, nothing.  Outside what I assumed to be Donovan’s dressing room (but in hindsight may have been the Green Room) a noisy throng of people came and went as the star of the show held court inside.

Amid several familiar faces from the world of pop and TV I exchanged a few words with American folk singer Julie Felix.  A London resident since 1964, Julie then held a weekly spot on the David Frost TV show “The Frost Report”. She would later present her own BBC series “Once More With Felix” which ran between late 1967 and 1970.  Felix also recorded at least six Donovan songs during her career, so it was hardly surprising to find her as a VIP backstage guest.  

After a while I noticed an older couple waiting forlornly outside the dressing room and recognised them as Donald and Winifred Leitch, Donovan’s parents.  When I asked why they weren’t inside basking in the aftermath of a triumphant evening they explained they had no intention of entering the dressing room while “HE” was there.  It transpired “HE” was Don’s buddy, roadie, travelling companion and muse Gypsy Dave*.

For reasons unknown Donovan’s mum and dad didn’t approve of Gyp at all, feeling he was a negative influence on their son.  Pretty soon it was time for me to leave, but this small domestic insight capped what had already been a quite surreal day and I walked back along Knightsbridge in a daze to catch the Tube to St. Pancras and the last train home to Sheffield.

UPDATE: June 2019.  As I was writing this it was announced that “Gypsy” David Mills had died at his home in Thailand, aged 72.  As well as his years of service as Donovan’s right-hand man, Gypsy Dave belatedly received three song writing credits on the 1968 album Hurdy Gurdy Man. 

Birmingham – May 1967

Way back before the arrival of the internet and the mobile phone, concert goers had little way of knowing if a show would go ahead as advertised until they arrived at the venue.  So, on May 19, 1967, I hitch-hiked the 90 miles from Sheffield to Birmingham confidently expecting to see Donovan in concert at the Town Hall. Unfortunately, the trip soon turned into the very definition of a fool’s errand. 

Just a few weeks earlier Donovan had completed a six-night London residency at Brian Epstein’s Saville Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue.  I had seriously considered travelling to the capital for one of these shows but finally decided against it in favour of the Birmingham concert which was much closer to home.  Looking for the box office in order to buy a last-minute ticket (in those pre-internet days shows seldom sold out in advance) I found the Town Hall’s massive oak doors were still firmly closed and locked.  A brief, hand-written notice pinned to one of the doors read, with chilling finality: “Tonight’s Show By Donovan Has Been Cancelled”. It contained no further explanation or information other than scant details of how to claim ticket refunds.

What to do now?  Hoping to make the best of an increasingly bad situation I decided to explore the UK’s second city for a few hours before heading homewards.  Firstly, I had a closer look at the Birmingham Town Hall. Opened in 1834, the grade 1 listed building is a sight to behold. According to its dedicated Wikipedia page the hall “was based on the proportions of the Temple of Castor and Pollux in the Roman Forum”.  I knew nothing of such scholarly things at the time, of course, but with that imposing frontage (I counted at least 40 columns) and magnificent neoclassical architecture, it was hard not to be impressed.

Birmingham Town Hall

A short walk down the street led to a busy indoor market where a radio station was playing pop music over the Tannoy system.  It’s difficult to believe now but Britain didn’t have a dedicated top 40 radio station until September 1967 when as a direct response to the popularity of the offshore pirate stations the BBC’s youth channel Radio 1 was launched.  Until then we had been drip-fed a meagre diet of pop alongside oceans of stodgy easy listening and orchestral music from the strictly middle of the road BBC Light Programme, as it was then called. But change was in the air and at that very moment the DJ was waxing lyrical about a brand-new record by a group called Procol Harum.  The song was “A Whiter Shade of Pale” and it had been released only days before. This was possibly one of the first times it was ever played on the radio.  

I never found out why the Donovan concert was cancelled or if it was ever rescheduled, but it mattered little.  This was 1967 after all, and there was always another great show just around the corner. But to this day whenever I hear “A Whiter Shade of Pale” I’m immediately transported back to that market in Birmingham and the Donovan concert that never was.

Windsor – August 1967

From its inception in 1961 the National Jazz Festival was held at the Richmond Athletic Ground in south west London.  In 1964 the name was amended to the National Jazz & Blues Festival and two years later it moved 13 miles west to Windsor.  Gradually the jazz component was whittled away and by 1967 it had become predominantly a rock event. More relocations followed, to Sunbury (1968) and Plumpton (1969) until in 1971 a permanent home was found at Reading 40 miles west of London.  Still held today the re-named Reading Festival is the world's oldest popular music festival still in existence.

I was living in London by the summer of 1967 and so it was just a 20-mile bus journey to the

Royal Windsor Racecourse for the 7th National Jazz & Blues Festival.  Donovan appeared on August 13, the third and final day of the event amid what now seems an almost unbelievable line-up comprising (deep breath): Cream, Jeff Beck, John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, Chicken Shack, Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac and many other legendary names. 

The newly formed Pink Floyd was also booked to appear, but they cancelled as leader Syd Barrett’s mental health was already starting to unravel. Their place was taken by The Nice, featuring Keith Emerson, who also backed P.P. Arnold at the festival.

Obviously, Donovan was a major drawcard for me but I was equally thrilled to see Beck, Cream, Mayall (with new guitarist Mick Taylor), Fleetwood Mac (making their historic first-ever live appearance) and Chicken Shack (with flamboyant guitarist Stan Webb and future Fleetwood Mac mainstay Christine McVie (né Perfect). 

Windsor August 1967

In order to bring Donovan’s UK catalogue into line with his American releases a 12-track compilation of the two US albums Sunshine Superman and Mellow Yellow received a British release in mid-1967.  Also titled Sunshine Superman, the UK LP contained six tracks from each of the US titles wrapped in a brand-new sleeve design.  Finally, Donovan was able to perform material which was hitherto unfamiliar to his home audience. 

In his long wizard’s robe, he started out on his trademark cherry sunburst Gibson J45 acoustic before strapping on a new Rickenbacker electric guitar for a few songs, including the big hit single “Sunshine Superman”.  The band was virtually the same as the January Albert Hall concert, featuring John Cameron, Harold McNair, Danny Thompson and Tony Carr. Also present was the London Philharmonic string quartet, four elderly gentlemen looking uncomfortable in their suits and ties in the August sunshine. 

Royal Albert Hall - March 1968

On March 21, 1968 I was back at the Royal Albert Hall where Donovan was headlining once again.  It was not a one man show this time but a charity benefit for the Leukemia Research Fund with legendary radio DJ John Peel as compere and a couple of little-known support bands. 

I wish I could say I paid more attention to these opening acts as one of them turned out to be the acoustic duo Tyrannosaurus Rex featuring 20-year-old Marc Bolan. In his 2005 autobiography The Hurdy Gurdy Man (Century - Random House), Donovan writes that Marc was accompanied by “a percussionist named Mickey Finn”.  Don’s memory is deceiving him here, as the other member of the original Tyrannosaurus Rex duo was in fact Steve Peregrin Took.  Mickey Finn would not replace Took until late 1969.

Although Marc had already released solo records and recorded with the band John’s Children, the first Tyrannosaurus Rex single “Debora” was unreleased at this point (it appeared in April 1968) and their debut album was still four months away.  No one could predict that within three years Marc and Mickey Finn, their name now shortened to T. Rex, would become the biggest UK pop phenomenon since the Beatles.  

At one point during the concert I got very excited when I thought I heard Donovan announce, “I’d like to bring on a good friend now, Mr Jimi Hendrix!”.  Imagine my confusion when a short-haired black man in a smart suit appeared onstage. It turned out to be the American jazz singer Jon Hendricks and I’d simply misheard what Donovan had said.  I confess I’d never heard of Hendricks at the time (hey, I was only 17) but I later discovered he was a major figure in the jazz world and had recently relocated to London. A second guest, the great jazz pop artist Georgie Fame then appeared on Hammond organ to back Don and Jon as they sang “Preachin’ Love”, the UK B-Side of “Mellow Yellow”.

This concert took place only days after Donovan returned from India where, together with the Beatles, Beach Boy Mike Love and other well-known names, he studied Transcendental Meditation under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.  It was a prolific song writing period for all concerned, producing much of Don’s Hurdy Gurdy Man LP and the Beatles’ so-called “White Album” (actual title: The Beatles). 

During their time at the ashram in Rishikesh, Donovan showed John, Paul and George the rudiments of acoustic guitar fingerpicking, and the results can be heard throughout the “White Album”.  
After returning from India, Lennon and Harrison stripped the finish from some of their guitars (acoustic and electric) after an assurance from Donovan that it would improve the sound.  These instruments can be seen in the Beatles’ Let It Be movie and footage of John & Yoko’s “Give Peace A Chance” recorded June 1, 1969 at their Montreal Bed-In for Peace.  In recent years Gibson guitars has issued reproductions of these stripped-down guitars, proving that today almost anything with a Beatle connection is saleable. 

In February 2018 Donovan returned to India to film a documentary marking the 50th anniversary of his visit to Rishikesh.  Titled Donovan & The Beatles In India (Director: Paul Saltzman) it was shown on Sky Arts in late 2018 or early 2019 depending on location.

The Beatles and Donovan with the Maharishi in India, early 1968

Whittlesey – June 1968

A few months later I travelled 75 miles northeast of London to rural Cambridgeshire for a two-day indoor mini festival held over the Whitsun* holiday weekend of June 2 and 3, 1968.  Taking place in a cavernous warehouse not far from Peterborough, it was billed as the Whittlesey Barn Barbeque Concert and Dance. 

While the title of the event may have been a little unwieldy, the artist roster was more impressive.  Headliner Donovan was supported by John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers (the seven-man Bare Wires album line-up), Fairport Convention (reputedly playing only their second show with new singer Sandy Denny) and Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac (still a four-piece, with third guitarist Danny Kirwan about to join in August).


  

It was at Whittlesey that I managed to take an onstage photo of Donovan in action.  My cheap Kodak Instamatic didn’t give the best results in such poor light, but it captured the members of Don’s band, consisting of John Cameron, Harold McNair and Danny Thompson.  Careful examination of the photograph reveals Cameron is playing John Mayall’s Hammond organ, with the veteran bluesman’s name clearly visible across the front.  

Whittlesey Barn Barbeque Concert and Dance, June 1968. (pic Stuart Penney)

A few words of explanation regarding Whitsun.  The movable religious holiday of Whitsun (also known as Whitsunday or Whitsuntide) is the name used in Britain and Ireland for Pentecost, the seventh Sunday after Easter.  Although it still appears in the Christian calendar, Whitsun no longer retains the importance it once had. The Monday after Whitsunday remained a UK public holiday until 1971 when it was replaced with the fixed Spring Bank Holiday on the last Monday in May.

Hyde Park – June 1969

Almost exactly a year later, on June 7, 1969 I joined an estimated 120,000 others in London’s Hyde Park for the first in a series of free concerts.  There had been several free concerts in the park during the previous year, but they had been smaller, less publicised affairs. Taking place on the banks of the Serpentine lake in a natural amphitheatre known as “The Cockpit” (a disused gravel pit dating back to the 17th century) it marked the highly anticipated debut concert by Blind Faith, the supergroup featuring Eric Clapton, Steve Winwood, Ginger Baker and Ric Grech.

Support came from Richie Havens, the Edgar Broughton Band, Third Ear Band and, making an unscheduled appearance, Donovan. Performing solo, he took to the stage in the same white double-breasted jacket he’d worn back in 1967 for the “Sonnets of Donovan” concert programme photoshoot and for part of the set he played a Guild 12-string guitar borrowed from Richie Havens.

Hyde Park, June 1969

It was a hot day and sitting in the Hyde Park sun for several hours without access to toilets or much in the way of refreshments made for an uncomfortable afternoon.  But despite poor amplification and without a band to back him up, Donovan did well to hold the crowd’s attention (at least those near the front). As for Blind Faith, their only UK show proved to be a disappointment. 

The audience was expecting Cream-style pyrotechnics, but instead it got a low-key show with Eric Clapton already looking bored with his new project. It didn’t help that their self-titled Blind Faith album would not be released for several weeks, meaning most of the songs were unfamiliar to the crowd.  Following a short tour of Scandinavia and the US, Blind Faith disbanded after a show in Hawaii on August 24, 1969, less than three months after their Hyde Park debut.  Their career may have been short, but their solitary album Blind Faith has stood the test of time and holds up well today. 

The London Pavilion, Piccadilly Circus – March 1970

There can’t be too many people keen enough to sit through a lightweight 100-minute feature film simply to watch a two-minute performance of an obscure song.  But that’s exactly what I did in early 1970. The location was the London Pavilion cinema, the movie was If It’s Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium and the song was “Lord of the Reedy River”.  In superb close-up Donovan is seen playing the gentle ballad in a (supposed) Swiss youth hostel as a group of hip teenagers sit around smoking what we can only assume are jazz cigarettes.  The rest of this 1969 rom com is dated and forgettable, but that short clip is worth the price of admission alone.  

We probably wouldn’t make the time or effort to see a movie on such a flimsy pretext today, but back then there was little chance of ever seeing that Donovan clip again.  Home video was still a decade or more away and due to the draconian copyright laws of the time it could be at least five years before any new movie turned up on TV. Today the performance of “Lord of the Reedy River” is freely available to everyone on YouTube and, if you’ve a mind to hunt it down, If It’s Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium was released on DVD in 2008 .

Video Link

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4sLyMrg2js

This short clip was Donovan’s only appearance in the film.  He also wrote the title song, but the soundtrack recording was performed by someone called “J.P. Rags” a pseudonym for Douglas Cox, a former Atlantic Records promotions man who later became a motivational speaker for the Trump Organisation(!)

To tie-in with the April 1969 US release of If It’s Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium (a year before the UK premiere), a soundtrack album was issued with incidental music by Walter Scharf, but it didn’t include “Lord of the Reedy River”.  

The first released version of the song was by Mary Hopkin on her February 1969 Apple debut album Postcard.  One of three Donovan songs on the record (the others being “Happiness Runs” and “Voyage of the Moon”), “Lord of the Reedy River” featured producer Paul McCartney and composer Donovan both accompanying Mary on guitar.  In June 1981 Kate Bush released a version of “Lord of the Reedy River” as the B-Side of her single “Sat In Your Lap”. It was apparently the first non-original song she ever officially recorded.

Donovan first recorded “Lord of the Reedy River” in 1968 for his Barabajagal album, but this version remained unreleased until 2005 when it was included as a bonus track on the CD reissue.  A second version appeared in 1971 on the UK-only album HMS Donovan, although it too may have been recorded as early as 1968.  Both versions are different to the recording used in the film. 

Opening as a musical revue theatre in 1885, the London Pavilion became a cinema in 1935 and is probably best known for hosting the London premieres of all four Beatles’ films, as well as some of the James Bond movies.  It closed in 1981 and is currently part of the London Trocadero Centre giant shopping and entertainment complex in Piccadilly Circus.

Footnote: Although he didn’t appear in the film, Donovan had earlier been involved in the 1967 Ken Loach/Nell Dunn kitchen sink drama Poor Cow, for which he contributed three songs and some incidental music.  These were the title track, plus “Be Not Too Hard” (a joint Donovan/Christopher Logue composition) and “Colours”.  All these film versions remain unreleased. A recording of “Poor Cow” with a different arrangement and altered lyrics later appeared on the B-side of the 1968 “Jennifer Juniper” single.  “Be Not Too Hard” was given to Joan Baez who released it as the lead single from her 1967 Joan LP.  As for “Colours”, it was performed in the film by Terence Stamp’s character “Dave”.  The film also starred Carol White and future Led Zeppelin minder John Bindon in his first film appearance.

Poor Cow opened at the London Pavilion in December 1967 and, yes, I was there.

Video Link

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oy5vcApnby8

Isle of Wight – August 1970

The 1970 Isle of Wight Festival is said to be one of the largest events in rock history.  Even bigger than Woodstock (it included eight acts who had also appeared there), with a more impressive and varied line-up, but with the dubious bonus of the unpredictable British weather.  I’d been to the smaller 1969 IOW festival, when Bob Dylan made his much-anticipated return to live performance, so I knew the level of discomfort involved. But with four times as many people trying to reach the island, the 1970 event proved to be an endurance test of epic proportions.  

Firstly, it required a 75-mile trek from London to Portsmouth on the south coast (reached by hitchhiking, naturally).  From there a 25-minute ferry journey across the choppy Solent took us to the island, followed by an uncomfortable 30-minute trip in an overcrowded bus hurtling, with scant regard for the speed limit, along narrow country roads to the festival site 18 miles away.  None of this includes time spent waiting in line and with an estimated 600,000 festival attendees (on an island with a population of just 100,000) there was a great deal of queuing involved.

After disembarking the ferry at the port of Ryde, we were met at the quay by teams of Hampshire’s finest, intent on making arrests.  In late 60s Britain possession of the smallest amount of marijuana could earn you a jail stretch and the longhairs arriving from the mainland represented easy pickings for the police.  The 1970 Isle of Wight festival may have rivalled Woodstock in size, but most aspects of the Age of Aquarius were viewed with bemusement and suspicion on the island.  The undercover cops had gone to considerable effort to merge with the festival goers and they were wearing what they laughably imagined to be hippy gear, consisting of cheap Woolworths brand jeans and nondescript white t-shirts.  In a gauche attempt to look hip, some of the female officers had taken to wearing their regulation police issue blouses tied up in a knot at the front, exposing a generous amount of bare midriff. Even so, the shiny black boots and severe haircuts (on the men), identified them as police at a glance.

Inevitably my girlfriend and I were pulled from the queue and searched.  The police got quite animated when they discovered a silver foil package in my backpack and we were taken to a police operations caravan for further grilling.  An hour later we were released when the red-faced cops were forced to admit the package contained nothing more harmful than a black pudding sausage (a Yorkshire delicacy) thoughtfully supplied by my girlfriend’s mother.  

Bootleg CD shows Donovan at the Isle of Wight festival

The 1970 festival ran for five days, with the biggest acts appearing over the final three.  Donovan performed on the afternoon of Sunday, August 30 on a bill which included Jimi Hendrix, Jethro Tull, Moody Blues, Leonard Cohen, Joan Baez, Richie Havens (yet again!) and many others.

In keeping with the current trend of getting back to basics Donovan had recently jettisoned his psychedelic music in favour of a simple three-piece rock band which he called Open Road.  Their self-titled LP was already released in the US (and became one of his biggest sellers there, reaching the top 20), but would not appear in Britain until September 1970, a month after the festival.  Consequently, he performed his first set on solo acoustic guitar, before strapping on a Fender Telecaster to play a second set with the Open Road band. A documentary film of the festival “Message to Love” (directed and produced by Murray Lerner and available on DVD) contains footage of Donovan performing “Catch the Wind”, the opening number of his 20-song set.  The 1970 IOW festival was the last time Donovan played with the Open Road band, although they continued to record and perform without him for a while.

For many who made the Isle of Wight pilgrimage Jimi Hendrix was undoubtedly the main attraction and he closed the festival in the early hours of Monday morning.  Regrettably, his set was plagued by technical problems which, combined with the late hour, didn’t make for a vintage Hendrix performance. Sadly, this proved to be Jimi’s final official British show and just three weeks later he died in his London flat. 

Theatre Royal Drury Lane – June 1975

And so to Covent Garden in the heart of London and the historic Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.  There has been a theatre here since 1660 and the elegant grade 1 listed building which stands today opened in 1812, making it the oldest London theatre site still in use.  Although traditionally known for musicals and serious drama the Theatre Royal began staging regular rock events in the 70s. In 2000 it was purchased by Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber and is now operated by his management company.

Concert Programme, June 1975

This June 1, 1975 Donovan solo concert was the first in a 16-date tour beginning and ending in London and criss-crossing England, Scotland and Wales along the way.  He had recently taken to performing cross-legged upon a giant cushion, creating an effect not unlike Absolem, the hookah-smoking caterpillar atop his mushroom from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.  The cushion was further elevated on a riser and from this vantage point Donovan gave us a cross-section of material from the recent 7-Tease, Essence To Essence and Cosmic Wheels albums, plus old favourites such as “Universal Soldier” and a selection from A Gift From A Flower To A Garden.

We also got our first sighting of Donovan’s distinctive new acoustic guitars at this show.  Custom built in 1972 by British luthier Tony Zemaitis, these consisted of a blue 6-string with a crescent moon sound hole and a blonde 12-string with a decorated sunburst sound hole.  Zemaitis became famous for his wonderfully ornate instruments which were used by Eric Clapton, George Harrison, Ron Wood and other famous players in the 70s and 80s.

The “blue moon “guitar had already appeared on the cover of the March 1973 album Cosmic Wheels and it would be Don’s main stage instrument for many years before being superseded by his current acoustic “Kelly”, a beautiful green instrument made in 1996 by the American luthier Danny Ferrington.

Detail from the album Cosmic Wheels showing Donovan's "Blue Moon" guitar made by Tony Zemaitis

Fremantle, Western Australia – July 1998

Fast forward 23 years and 10,000 miles to Fremantle, Western Australia.  It was July 4th, 1998*, one of those dates you always remember, smack bang in the middle of the Australian winter.  For most of the year rain is rarely seen in this part of Australia, but when the short winter arrives it can bring storms of biblical proportions.  A little thing like a monsoonal downpour was not going to deter me tonight, however. Donovan was playing a solo show at the tiny Fly By Night club south of Perth and even if it meant standing in the rain for an hour, I was determined to grab pole position at the front of the queue. 

The bag of record sleeves I had brought to get signed were safely tucked inside my jacket to protect them from the elements. And no, I hadn’t travelled to the other side of the world especially for this show, I’d moved to Australia a few years earlier and was now living in Perth.

Onstage July 4th 1998 at the Fly By Night Club, Fremantle, W.A. (pics Stuart Penney)

Basically a converted Nissen hut, the Fly By Night is laid out a little like Ronnie Scott’s jazz club in London (albeit, with a capacity of 500, twice the size) with tables up the front and standing room only at the back, so my early arrival ensured a prime spot at a table within touching distance of the stage. 

Starting with “Catch the Wind”, all the familiar tunes were presented in roughly chronological order, each one having its own tale to tell.  “Hurdy Gurdy Man”, for instance, was prefaced by a delightful (if oft-told) anecdote concerning the Beatles, Beach Boy Mike Love and Mia Farrow.  We heard how Donovan wrote the song in India alongside the Fab Four in 1968. In the spirit of the times George Harrison contributed a verse, but this was edited from the original single when the guitar solo ran over length.  The crowd went wild as George’s long-lost verse was finally aired.

A trio of songs from Donovan’s then-current album, the Rick Rubin-produced Sutras sat comfortably amid the hit singles, proving he could still find his way around a gentle, melodic ballad (“Sutras” are a genre of ancient and medieval Indian texts found in Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism).  There was a wonderfully spontaneous moment when someone called out for “Intergalactic Laxative”. To everyone’s delight, the Cosmic Wheels scatological ditty was performed midway through a 10-song encore.  “I can’t believe I wrote that song” Don chuckled as the applause subsided.

But it was the hits the people had come to hear, and they were duly delivered.  “Colours”, “Universal Soldier”, “Jennifer Juniper”, “Josie” and “Wear Your Love Like Heaven” all sounded as fresh and vibrant as ever.  Others, such as “Atlantis”, “Mellow Yellow”, “Barabajagal” and “Sunshine Superman” were well received acoustically but really needed a band to do them justice.

 

At this club it was customary for the artists to come out into the bar after the show to sign autographs, chat with the fans and generally mingle in an informal kind of way.  I’d seen this happen at concerts by Richard Thompson, Bert Jansch, Fairport Convention, Ralph McTell, Loudon Wainwright III and others over the years, so expected the same from Donovan.  I was wrong.

The show ended and after what seemed like an age, a folding card table and chair were set up at the front of the stage.  A stack of the Sutras CD was then piled on the table and those wishing to meet Donovan and get an autograph (preferably after buying a copy of the CD, presumably) were instructed to form a line leading to the table.  Then the man himself came out and sat down. He looked fantastic in satin and crushed velvet and I’m sure I caught a whiff of patchouli oil.  As the line began to shuffle forward in hushed reverence my immediate thought was “this is what an audience with The Pope must be like”.

I noted that most people in the line were offering up miserable, ill thought-out items to be signed: ticket stubs, scraps of paper or damaged posters they had hurriedly ripped from the wall of the foyer seemed be the norm, while a few copies of Sutras were also in evidence. Then it was my turn.

Out came my carrier bag containing a bunch of original LP sleeves and several CD booklets, (including Sutras, of course) which I had thoughtfully removed from the jewel cases for convenience.  Far from being impressed at this show of devotion for his body of work, Donovan seemed momentarily stunned.  He looked at the pile of sleeves, then looked back at me, then back to the sleeves and sighed. His body language quite clearly said, “Do I really have to sign all this stuff?” 

With hindsight I suppose I was pushing my luck asking him to autograph so many records. Pretty soon restrictions would be placed on the number of items artists were prepared to sign as eBay and other online selling sites grew in popularity while others stopped signing altogether, as Ringo Starr did in 2008.

Donovan did sign them all finally, but there was no discussion and certainly no acknowledgement of the records themselves.  Just a quick handshake and that was all, before I carefully put the sleeves back in the bag and went out in the rainy night to drive home.  Well, they do say you should never meet your heroes, don’t they?  

This concert was originally scheduled for September 17, 1997, but was postponed due to Don’s father being taken ill.  I still have the tickets for the original (postponed) show with Donovan’s name cruelly misspelled as “Donavon”.

Tickets for the cancelled Fly By Night Club concert in 1997. This was rescheduled for the following year. Note the unfortunate spelling of "Donavon"

Appendix: Royal Albert Hall – June 2011

On June 3, 2011 Donovan returned to the Royal Albert Hall to reprise his 1966 album Sunshine Superman with special guest Jimmy Page.  I couldn’t make the journey from Australia, but my son Robert was raised on 60s music and, since he was now living in London, he jumped at the chance to go, completing the circle which began 44 years earlier with that first Albert Hall concert. 

A double DVD of this concert was released five years later in 2016, presumably held back to tie-in with the 50th anniversary of the album.  The first half of the show consisted of old favourites and greatest hits, while the second comprised the complete Sunshine Superman album in original track order.  Confusingly, the two halves of the show appear on the DVD in reverse order to the way they were performed on the night.  

The double DVD of the 2011 Sunshine Superman show is available from Donovan’s website: https://donovan.ie/

Epilogue

At the time of writing (2019) Donovan is still out there touring.  At age 73 he regularly plays a handful of concerts each year across Europe and the US and shows no signs of slowing down.  In a career rapidly approaching its seventh decade he’s achieved enough for multiple lifetimes. He’s written songs and rubbed shoulders with the Beatles, hung out with Bob Dylan in Newport and London and recorded hit singles with Jeff Beck and members of Led Zeppelin.  His record sales figures make impressive reading with a remarkable strike rate of 37 US chart entries and 18 UK hits (LPs and singles) in the decade 1965-75.  

Today, with his snow-white hair longer than it’s ever been, the one-time enfant terrible of folk rock resembles a wise old soothsayer dispensing wisdom throughout the land.  Over half a century has passed since that first concert at the Royal Albert Hall and the music Donovan performed there is as vital and important today as it was in 1967.  Long may he continue.