Dennis Williams
Gone but not forgotten
Here's one of mine...some may not agree?! Must admit...never heard of this bloke....but his story fascinated me when I saw it on another site...a Brummie Blagger.....wish I had his cheek! Great amusing read just for the musos he met and caroused with...
"KING OF THE BLAGGERS - JAMES HURST" (B'ham Mail 17/9/17)
The man from Birmingham who met his music heroes through sheer 'front' ... Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles, The Stones, Dusty Springfield to name but a few.
In the cramped dressing room, Jimi Hendrix, cradling a half-finished bottle of whisky, eyed the young man at the door. There was no suspicion, no animosity. Hendrix, one of rock’s most notorious wildmen, simply drawled: “I love your suit, man.” The guitar great was in the presence of James Hurst, the undisputed “king of the blaggers” on the 1960s Birmingham music scene. Without even a ticket, he specialised in backstage meetings with pop industry giants.
At one theatre, he shinned a drainpipe before being hauled inside by The Tremeloes. James, now 72, adopted a West Coast American accent to woo Dusty Springfield. He forged a lasting friendship with The Stones’ Brian Jones.
History tells us Hendrix, in drink, could have a dark side. Yet the star was charm personified during that 1967 meeting with James – a gatecrashing genius – at The Odeon.
“I blagged my way in,” laughed James, who moved to Cannon Hill, Birmingham, from Belfast in 1960. “I went to the stage door and said, ‘where is my dressing room, man?’
“I wasn’t that aware of Hendrix at the time. He was the new kid on the block and was enjoying great press.
“He was so convivial and welcoming. His opening line was, ‘I love your suit, man’. It was grey with bold pink stripes. He was drinking whisky from a tumbler and had got halfway through the bottle. Hendrix really did look like a wildman.
“I talked to him about the scene and he said he loved Cream and Bob Dylan. He wanted to go out on the town and find a club and wanted me to sort him out an entrance. I used the phone in the dressing room and got him in at The Cedar Club – he wanted to jam there.”
James, who now lives in Somerset, was also asked to run an errand.
“He gave me a fiver to get whisky from Yates Wine Lodge nearby. To be honest, I was amazed how Hendrix could carry his drink so well and still perform a blistering set.
“I said, ‘Jimi, do you mind if I use the phone to call my girlfriend?’ He let me and halfway through, I asked her, ‘do you want to speak to Jimi?’ He actually chatted on the phone to her.”
What James did back then – bending and breaking the rules to meet his heroes – could never be achieved in today’s world of fist-tight security and corporate rock ‘n’ roll.
He achieved what he did through sheer “front”. For James, brass-neck cheek paid dividends.
“I just bamboozled people on the doors,” said James. “Remember, I was ambitious and wanted to be a journalist. I was brought up in a pub in Ireland and there developed a knack of meeting people and putting them at ease. I also delivered to customers and simply extended that to gigs. I was always in the right place at the right time.
“I was backstage. I had no right to be, I didn’t even have a ticket.”
Even the Beatles were beguiled by James’ Irish charm when they played the Hippodrome in 1963.
“I was on my way to the El Sombrero coffee bar on Bristol Street and noticed a crowd outside the theatre,” the King of the Blaggers said. “Paul McCartney was signing autographs for a bunch of girls. Me and my girlfriend had just returned from holiday and we used fake tan to make it look like we’d been somewhere exotic. I went up to McCartney and said, ‘Paul, can you sign an autograph for Susan, my sister?’ He replied, ‘are you sure it’s not for you because you’re wearing make-up?’ I was bright red with embarrassment.
“Ringo and George were signing autographs around the corner and I noticed the tour bus. At the rear, I could see John Lennon and he looked like he was glaring at people. He genuinely looked intimidating – no one was asking for his autograph. Eventually, he got off the bus and asked me where he could get a curry.”
After that brief meeting, James went to the show and spent the night talking to the Fab Four through the open window of their dressing room.
Rock ‘n’ roll great Gene Vincent – appearing at Birmingham Town Hall in 1963 on a megabill that included Jerry Lee Lewis and Heinz – had an important task for young James. “Vincent was a great guy with a little voice. He was in leathers, sweating and with oily, black hair. I remember he and Jet Harris (formerly with The Shadows) were drinking brown ale which I thought was incredibly uncool. They stank of beer.
“He told me he was in pain with his knee and asked me to go to the Albany Hotel where his medication was on a table in his room. I got to The Albany and said, ‘I’m here on behalf of Mr Vincent’. I was taken to the room by a bellhop and on the table were some pills. I returned to the town hall while Vincent was on stage.
“After 10 minutes there was a knock on the door and there was the bellhop in a real fluster. He’d taken me to the wrong room and the medication I’d collected was a woman’s birth control pills.”
Little Richard served-up the best show James has ever seen – a sizzling set at the town hall in 1962. Sharing top billing was Sam Cooke.
“He was totally outrageous,” recalled James, “standing on his piano and belting out the numbers. I was awestruck being in the dressing room.”
Little Richard’s autograph reads, “1710 Virginia Rd, Los Angeles, may God bless you always”. Cooke simply scribbled, “luck”.
“Sam gave me a fiver to get a bottle of brandy,” said James. “He drank it with tea and cream for his voice, so you could say it was medicinal. Sam Cooke was poised and immaculate, a lovely guy, but you knew you had to give him space. Little Richard was tremendous and treated me like a fan. He spoke very fast.”
The meeting with Dusty Springfield, then a member of the Springfields, remains among James’ most treasured memories. Their paths crossed at Birmingham Town Hall in 1962.
“I was outside her dressing room,” said James. “I told her I was from California and she was incredibly intrigued by my stories about the Golden Gate Bridge and the San Francisco scene.
“She was lovely, absolutely wonderful. She was sweet.
“I followed Dusty Springfield back to the Midlands Hotel. I watched her going up in a lift and then going down, up in the lift and down. I’ve often wondered if she wanted me to keep her company or simply didn’t know how to work the lift.”
James is adamant he never encountered illegal drug use among the stars he tailed. He didn’t even witness The Stones – a band he had a close association with, a band with a certain reputation – indulging in illicit substances.
“Brian Jones always looked hungover and he’d tell me that he’d only had two hours sleep. Looking back, those hangovers may have been the result of pharmaceuticals, but I didn’t see anything.”
James Hurst, now a grandfather, represents a fascinating link to a time when pop stars truly mingled with their fans. “The secret was not to outstay your welcome,” he added, “to leave when you felt it was prudent.”
"KING OF THE BLAGGERS - JAMES HURST" (B'ham Mail 17/9/17)
The man from Birmingham who met his music heroes through sheer 'front' ... Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles, The Stones, Dusty Springfield to name but a few.
In the cramped dressing room, Jimi Hendrix, cradling a half-finished bottle of whisky, eyed the young man at the door. There was no suspicion, no animosity. Hendrix, one of rock’s most notorious wildmen, simply drawled: “I love your suit, man.” The guitar great was in the presence of James Hurst, the undisputed “king of the blaggers” on the 1960s Birmingham music scene. Without even a ticket, he specialised in backstage meetings with pop industry giants.
At one theatre, he shinned a drainpipe before being hauled inside by The Tremeloes. James, now 72, adopted a West Coast American accent to woo Dusty Springfield. He forged a lasting friendship with The Stones’ Brian Jones.
History tells us Hendrix, in drink, could have a dark side. Yet the star was charm personified during that 1967 meeting with James – a gatecrashing genius – at The Odeon.
“I blagged my way in,” laughed James, who moved to Cannon Hill, Birmingham, from Belfast in 1960. “I went to the stage door and said, ‘where is my dressing room, man?’
“I wasn’t that aware of Hendrix at the time. He was the new kid on the block and was enjoying great press.
“He was so convivial and welcoming. His opening line was, ‘I love your suit, man’. It was grey with bold pink stripes. He was drinking whisky from a tumbler and had got halfway through the bottle. Hendrix really did look like a wildman.
“I talked to him about the scene and he said he loved Cream and Bob Dylan. He wanted to go out on the town and find a club and wanted me to sort him out an entrance. I used the phone in the dressing room and got him in at The Cedar Club – he wanted to jam there.”
James, who now lives in Somerset, was also asked to run an errand.
“He gave me a fiver to get whisky from Yates Wine Lodge nearby. To be honest, I was amazed how Hendrix could carry his drink so well and still perform a blistering set.
“I said, ‘Jimi, do you mind if I use the phone to call my girlfriend?’ He let me and halfway through, I asked her, ‘do you want to speak to Jimi?’ He actually chatted on the phone to her.”
What James did back then – bending and breaking the rules to meet his heroes – could never be achieved in today’s world of fist-tight security and corporate rock ‘n’ roll.
He achieved what he did through sheer “front”. For James, brass-neck cheek paid dividends.
“I just bamboozled people on the doors,” said James. “Remember, I was ambitious and wanted to be a journalist. I was brought up in a pub in Ireland and there developed a knack of meeting people and putting them at ease. I also delivered to customers and simply extended that to gigs. I was always in the right place at the right time.
“I was backstage. I had no right to be, I didn’t even have a ticket.”
Even the Beatles were beguiled by James’ Irish charm when they played the Hippodrome in 1963.
“I was on my way to the El Sombrero coffee bar on Bristol Street and noticed a crowd outside the theatre,” the King of the Blaggers said. “Paul McCartney was signing autographs for a bunch of girls. Me and my girlfriend had just returned from holiday and we used fake tan to make it look like we’d been somewhere exotic. I went up to McCartney and said, ‘Paul, can you sign an autograph for Susan, my sister?’ He replied, ‘are you sure it’s not for you because you’re wearing make-up?’ I was bright red with embarrassment.
“Ringo and George were signing autographs around the corner and I noticed the tour bus. At the rear, I could see John Lennon and he looked like he was glaring at people. He genuinely looked intimidating – no one was asking for his autograph. Eventually, he got off the bus and asked me where he could get a curry.”
After that brief meeting, James went to the show and spent the night talking to the Fab Four through the open window of their dressing room.
Rock ‘n’ roll great Gene Vincent – appearing at Birmingham Town Hall in 1963 on a megabill that included Jerry Lee Lewis and Heinz – had an important task for young James. “Vincent was a great guy with a little voice. He was in leathers, sweating and with oily, black hair. I remember he and Jet Harris (formerly with The Shadows) were drinking brown ale which I thought was incredibly uncool. They stank of beer.
“He told me he was in pain with his knee and asked me to go to the Albany Hotel where his medication was on a table in his room. I got to The Albany and said, ‘I’m here on behalf of Mr Vincent’. I was taken to the room by a bellhop and on the table were some pills. I returned to the town hall while Vincent was on stage.
“After 10 minutes there was a knock on the door and there was the bellhop in a real fluster. He’d taken me to the wrong room and the medication I’d collected was a woman’s birth control pills.”
Little Richard served-up the best show James has ever seen – a sizzling set at the town hall in 1962. Sharing top billing was Sam Cooke.
“He was totally outrageous,” recalled James, “standing on his piano and belting out the numbers. I was awestruck being in the dressing room.”
Little Richard’s autograph reads, “1710 Virginia Rd, Los Angeles, may God bless you always”. Cooke simply scribbled, “luck”.
“Sam gave me a fiver to get a bottle of brandy,” said James. “He drank it with tea and cream for his voice, so you could say it was medicinal. Sam Cooke was poised and immaculate, a lovely guy, but you knew you had to give him space. Little Richard was tremendous and treated me like a fan. He spoke very fast.”
The meeting with Dusty Springfield, then a member of the Springfields, remains among James’ most treasured memories. Their paths crossed at Birmingham Town Hall in 1962.
“I was outside her dressing room,” said James. “I told her I was from California and she was incredibly intrigued by my stories about the Golden Gate Bridge and the San Francisco scene.
“She was lovely, absolutely wonderful. She was sweet.
“I followed Dusty Springfield back to the Midlands Hotel. I watched her going up in a lift and then going down, up in the lift and down. I’ve often wondered if she wanted me to keep her company or simply didn’t know how to work the lift.”
James is adamant he never encountered illegal drug use among the stars he tailed. He didn’t even witness The Stones – a band he had a close association with, a band with a certain reputation – indulging in illicit substances.
“Brian Jones always looked hungover and he’d tell me that he’d only had two hours sleep. Looking back, those hangovers may have been the result of pharmaceuticals, but I didn’t see anything.”
James Hurst, now a grandfather, represents a fascinating link to a time when pop stars truly mingled with their fans. “The secret was not to outstay your welcome,” he added, “to leave when you felt it was prudent.”
