And Now It's All This !: August 2024

by Mark Ian Wilkerson

Published by Third Man Books on October 1, 2024

Reviewed by Stuart Penney

“Here in Townshend’s home on the banks of the Thames, a diminutive teenage guitar phenom met with a lanky hippie songwriter / drummer and a rotund, straight-as-an-arrow GPO engineer / throwback boogie pianist.” Seldom can such an ill-matched assortment of musicians have been thrown together with such a rewarding outcome. But that, in a nutshell, is the Thunderclap Newman story.

This is also the story of Pete Townshend who discovered, mentored and produced the trio. Freed from the constraints of his high-pressure day job with The Who (he describes Daltrey, Moon and Entwistle as “awful to be around” at that time) and bogged down recording and promoting the Tommy album, he immersed himself in what began as a fun, homespun side project, gaining immense satisfaction and the only UK number one single of his career in the process. He also contributed a warm and heartfelt foreword to this book.

Originally titled "Revolution," Thunderclap’s hit was renamed "Something In The Air" to avoid confusion with the Beatles' track of the same name. The song’s unashamed call for civil insurrection, including the line “Hand out the arms and ammo,” was somewhat at odds with its lilting melody, soothing two chord progression, tumbling guitar passages and soaring string arrangement. Deceptively simple in structure, the record was far greater than the sum of its parts.

It all started at Ealing Art College where the teenage Pete Townshend encountered Andy Newman, a strait-laced, wildly eccentric figure who played 20s / 30s style jazz and ragtime piano. Townshend became infatuated (even to the point of stalking Newman at one point) and after the Who took off resolved to make records with him. Conveniently, Pete also encountered the other future Thunderclap members along the way.

John “Speedy” Keen was Townshend’s driver, sometime songwriting buddy and erstwhile flat mate who co-wrote “Armenia City in the Sky” the opening track on the album The Who Sell Out. Meanwhile, he knew of the Scottish guitar prodigy Jimmy McCulloch from Who support slots. Pete’s original plan was to make separate albums with the three until Who manager Kit Lambert came up with the dubious (yet ultimately brilliant) idea of putting them all together in the same band with Townshend producing.

Following their big hit, which took everyone by surprise, including Pete, concerts were booked, but as a live act Thunderclap Newman were quickly found wanting. Typical was a show supporting Deep Purple. According to one account a hostile crowd threw coins and booed them off after only 15 minutes. Townshend was not slow to point out their shortcomings, either. “Fucking get it together!” he would yell as yet another rehearsal fell apart. Things got so bad on their first tour, both Speedy and Jimmy said they wanted out. “And that was the end of that” said bassist Jim Avery (who was drafted in for live work). “That’s why Track (Records) took us off the road.”

Back in the studio, the original trio began work on what would prove to be their solitary, if rather wonderful, album. With Townshend in the producer’s chair and playing bass under the alias Bijou Drains, Thunderclap eventually gelled, and Hollywood Dream arrived in late 1970, more than a year after “Something In The Air.” Finally, Pete was happy: “Recording it is one of my favourite experiences" he said. “People that know and love that record are very special people in my eyes.”

Unfortunately, by this point the momentum created by “SITA” had all-but evaporated and the band was almost back to square one. Hollywood Dream was a fine effort, nevertheless, packed with great songs. I’ve loved it since snagging a white label advance copy from the Polydor offices in 1970. I wrote about that incident HERE.

McCulloch’s lyrical, bluesy guitar belied his tender years (he was just 15 at the time and, according to Townshend “never played a bum note in the studio,”) while Keen’s reedy falsetto worked perfectly with his infuriatingly catchy songs.

Underpinning it all was the piano work of Andy “Thunderclap” Newman himself. Playing an incongruous mix of honky-tonk and Bix Beiderbecke style boogie-woogie, his jazzy solos were shoehorned into almost every song. This became the band’s trademark, whereby each tune would change key / tempo and veer off at a tangent, allowing the piano interlude to happen. It was a strange and wondrous thing to behold and while it worked perfectly in some songs, I’m sure it put off as many casual listeners as it attracted.

Virtually every track on Hollywood Dream was a joy. From the ten-minute version of “Accidents” to a then-unreleased Bob Dylan Basement Tapes number “Open the Door, Homer”, via every bizarre piano solo, guitar instrumental and quirky pop / psych gem along the way.

The album reviews were mixed but generally favourable, especially in America. Presumably hoping we wouldn’t notice, John Mendelssohn quoted from the Bonzo Dog Band song “I’m Bored” when he wrote in Rolling Stone “How anyone will manage to remain a nasty narrow-minded jade in the presence of this unremittingly delightful album defies the imagination.” But, despite such praise, sales were poor. The album limped into the US top 200 at #161 and didn’t chart at all in Britain.

To be strictly accurate Thunderclap Newman were not simply the one hit wonders many believe them to be. Sure “Something In The Air” swept all before it in the summer of 1969, even knocking the Beatles’ “The Ballad of John & Yoko” off the top of the UK charts in the process. But the following year they crept almost apologetically back into the lower reaches of the top 50 with a shorter 7” version of “Accidents” an equally lovely song which, among other things, warns of the dangers of trainspotting. In fact, the song started life titled “Spotting Trains.”

Following the album a couple of Australian musicians were drafted in on bass and drums, and this five-piece line-up played several live dates before the band finally fell apart. Personal and musical differences between Keen and McCulloch were cited as the reason for the split and by mid-1971, after just the one album and four singles, Thunderclap Newman was no more.

Part two deals with what happened next and for me this was the most interesting and enlightening part of the book.

As the strongest musician of the trio, Jimmy McCulloch was by far the most productive and in demand after the split, working with John Mayall, Stone the Crows, Blue and others. But it’s his four years with Wings which receives the most attention here. Wilkerson has done a great research job and McCartney fans will lap up the detailed Wings coverage which is where it all started to go wrong for McCulloch.

Mood swings brought on by drink and drugs made him unpredictable and self-destructive and he left Wings in late 1977 to join Steve Marriott in a short-lived re-boot of the Small Faces. “He’s a good lad, Jimmy, a good guitar player” remembered McCartney, before adding, with a touch of understatement “but sometimes he’s a bit hard to live with.” It all came to a tragic conclusion when McCulloch succumbed to a drug overdose in 1979, aged just 26. “In the end he was just too dangerous for his own good” opined Macca.

As for Speedy Keen, he took up residence in Pete Townshend’s Soho rehearsal studio and began work on a solo album Previous Convictions, released in 1973. Like Hollywood Dream it was critically acclaimed but failed to sell and his career languished. Finally leaving Track Records (which was on the brink of collapse by then), Keen landed a deal at Island where big boss Chris Blackwell himself took a shine to him and work began on a new project. Backed by members of Paul Kossoff’s band Back Street Crawler (minus Kossoff) Speedy set about re-recording the demos he’d brought with him from Track.

A second solo album Y’Know Wot I Mean? arrived on Island in 1975, but it fared no better than the first. In 1977 Speedy was credited as producer on the Heartbreakers’ L.A.M.F album (one of the last records to be released on Track) and also worked with Motorhead on their self-titled Chiswick Records debut. He then lived on a boat in reduced circumstances for some years before passing away in 2002 following heart surgery.

Andy Newman’s lone solo album Rainbow appeared on Track Records in 1972. It was a predicably eccentric effort and sales were poor, although Pete Townshend incorporated one of Andy’s pieces on his 1982 All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes album for which he received some welcome royalties. Newman also worked with Angie Bowie, Bonzo Dog Band’s Roger Ruskin Spear and Bob Kerr of the New Vaudeville Band.

A new incarnation of the re-named Thunderclap Newman Band, with Andy as the only original member, enjoyed moderate success in the early 2000s before playing their final show at the 2012 Isle of Wight festival. Newman died in 2016 aged 73.

Meanwhile, “Something In The Air” had taken on a life of its own. The song has appeared in countless movies, television programmes and adverts, usually whenever a late 60s mood is required. It has been covered by many artists including Labelle, Herbie Mann, Eurythmics, Fish (ex-Marillion), The Lightning Seeds, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and The Dukes of September (featuring Donald Fagen, Boz Scaggs and Michael McDonald). Today, turn on any classic rock radio station anywhere in the world and the chances are you’ll hear “Something In The Air” within the hour.

This is a fascinating story which fully deserves telling. You’d think a 420-page book about a band who only released one album and scored a solitary (albeit massive) hit single might struggle to hold your attention. But you’d be wrong. This is a cracking read and Mark Wilkerson has found the sweet spot between scholarly research and a riveting human interest story.