Steve Marriott. Blimey, where to begin? 

How about, once upon a time, there lived King Mod. Young, sussed, sharp, clobbered up with a great barnet, he came complete with a voice that roared him and his band, The  Small Faces, to the top of the charts in the era of the Stones and the Beatles. He then quit the pop life to rock out with Humble Pie for a few years, before ending up singing in pubs dressed  in dungarees in various line ups with novelty names.

Only, to try and capture his fast-paced life in 500 words or so is somewhat of a challenge, and one I’ve not tackled before, mainly due to the reverence I have for him and that wonderful music, he and the Small Faces, served up, and frankly, because of the sad way it all ended.  My young ears in those formative years, soaked it all in and then some. 

Anyway, finally the time has come, so eyes down for a full house.

Steven Peter Marriott was born in East Ham on the 30th January 1947 to mum Kay and dad Bill. Bill was a decent pub piano player and so passed on some musical genes to his son, who was soon out busking on a harmonica and ukulele, earning a few bob in the surrounding streets, as well as picking up first prizes in talent shows at holiday camps down in Jaywick.

He was in bands from the age of 12, mimicking his then idol Buddy Holly. A bundle of hyperactive energy, and full of life, he soon found himself on stage in the West End, after Bill got him an audition for the musical ‘Oliver!’ written by Lionel Bart.  Whilst on a twelve-month contract, he played various roles in the show and sung as the Artful Dodger on the official album recorded at Abbey Road in 1961.

He then enrolled as a student at the Italia Conti theatre school in London, and soon found plenty of work in TV, film and on the radio, but in truth his heart wasn’t really in it and he returned to his first love, music, managing to pick up a solo recording deal with Decca.  Sadly, his early release, the Kenny Lynch penned Give Her My Regards flopped . 

Taking stock, he was back shortly after, this time in a band line up, namely The Moments. They were soon on the gig circuit, supporting the likes of Georgie Fame, John Mayall, and The Animals during 1964. Then when their version of You Really Got Me failed to make a dent in the charts, Marriott was ‘let go.’

It was whilst working in the J60 Music Bar in Manor Park, that he bumped into Ronnie Lane, recognising him from a gig Marriott had previously attended in a local pub. On this second occasion, Lane was looking to buy a bass guitar and the two of them would go on to become firm friends, bonding over a love of imported American music and the early days of the Mod movement.

‘Things could work out,
Just like I want them to, yeah…’

They were joined by young drummer Kenney Jones, when they teamed up with keyboard player Jimmy Winston to form the Small Faces, so named by an actress friend of Marriott’s called Anabel, what with them being small (apart from Winston and to quote Marriott later ‘with little boats (faces)’. Quickly signed by the notorious manager Don Arden, they released Whatcha Gonna Do About It in the August of 1965,  which hit the top twenty of the charts, with, it is said, some deft manipulation by Arden and his team.

Aged just 18, Marriott was now on circa £20 approx. a week wages, with clothing accounts up and down Carnaby Street at his disposable (all later charged against earnings, of course.) Arden housed them in central London at 22 Westmoreland Terrace in Pimlico, where a quiet night in, was a very rare occurrence indeed.

Despite a hectic cycle of concerts and that busy social life, they wrote a number of great old tunes, among them, and in no particular order,  All Or Nothing – number one in September 1966 – Tin Soldier, Itchycoo Park, Grow Your Own, Wham Bam Thank You Mam, Rene, Here Come the Nice and Lazy Sunday to name but an handful.

Their time with Arden came to an abrupt end however, when their families became concerned about those earnings of the band and questions began to be raised about royalties. Don quickly sold them on to Andrew Loog Oldham and his newly formed Immediate Records soon after, in 1967. There they became more studio based, which suited them just fine at that stage of their career.

Marriott moved to Beehive Cottage in rural Essex, which he bought along with Ronnie and Susan Lane, Ronnie’s wife. There they established their own studio, which they named ‘Clear Sounds.’

After the success of their 1968 album ‘Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake’ Steve wanted to bring guitarist Peter Frampton into the line-up, but the rest of the band disagreed, signalling the beginning of the end, with Marriott leaving whilst they were working in Paris, on New Year’s Eve 1968.

‘There she is again steppin’ out of her limousine, well
looking like the cover of a twenty-dollar magazine…’

In a 1984 interview with NME journalist Paolo Hewitt on the subject of leaving the band, Marriott said ‘You grow apart for Christ sakes. You’re talking about people living together from the ages of seventeen to twenty-two and that’s a growing up part of your life and we got to hate each other, no doubt about it. We didn’t speak to each other for fucking years. Maybe ten years.’

As we know, the rest of the Small Faces went on to become The Faces, with the recording industry joke at the time stating that it took two people to replace Marriott, Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood.

Marriott and Frampton were now free to join forces, with their band of choice, that being Humble Pie, with the line-up complimented by drummer Jerry Shirley and Greg Ridley on bass. They’d go on to  have an early top five hit in the UK with Steve’s song Natural Born Bugie. (sic) in 1969.

They went on to tour stadiums extensively across the US for a couple of years. Frampton then left the line-up, as the on the road lifestyle was said to begin to take its toll, with  Marriott in particular, having a heavy cocaine and drink intake. That combination helped to release Steve’s inner demon, which was so well known, it had a name, Melvin, who was generally recognised to be a ‘total pain in the arse.’  Steve’s first marriage to Jenny Rylance, not surprisingly ended around the same time as all this was happening.  Then Humble Pie finished in 1975, due to a combination of financial and management irregularities and the afore mentioned industrial sized substance abuse.

That same year, Marriott was invited to audition for the Rolling Stones as the replacement for guitarist Mick Taylor and it is said he was the first choice of Keith Richards. However, Mick Jagger sensed that Steve would struggle to remain in the background and veto’d the idea in favour of old mate, Ronnie Wood.

Now back living in the UK, Steve married second wife Pam Stephens in 1976, going on to have a son, Toby. Times became tight, when the Humble Pie funds began to run dry up and Steve went back on the road, working as the Steve Marriott All Stars, managed by Laurie O’Leary

There was also an attempt at a short-lived and ultimately unsuccessful Small Faces reunion, with poor record sales and even worse critical acclaim,  putting that to rest.

Ian McLagan – He (Steve) had a big old moustache, and he was dirty. He didn’t have any decent clothes. He was a coked-out, over-singing arsehole. When he came to your house he’d pretty much stay until there was nothing left to drink. He drank us out of everything. Eventually, I stopped answering the phone to Steve.’

Marriott soon returned to the States, by way of avoiding the tax man in the UK, who was after him big time. Now totally skint,  he accepted an offer to reform Humble Pie, signing on with the label ATCO. They released a couple of albums in 1980 and 1981, which did ok, but by the end of ’81, Marriott’s second marriage was collapsing, with Steve in poor health,  and the band ended once again, that year.

So, back to the UK that year he came, to team up with his old sparring partner Ronnie Lane, now sadly in a wheelchair, suffering from the effects of Multiple Sclerosis.  They gamely record an album called Majik Mijits, and it contained some lovely old moments, but it didn’t see the light for nearly twenty years.

‘That’s your mum, your my son,
this is my guitar – hands off!’

Jim Leverton – ‘Steve and Ronnie went to America to see Clive Davis of Arista Records. They played him the tape. Clive Davis was tapping his foot and tapping his very expensive pen on his very expensive desk. He said ‘Yeah, that’s great man.’ Steve said, ‘So you like the tape, Clive?’ Steve then stopped the tape, ejected it and said ‘WELL YOU CAN’T FUCKING HAVE IT!’ The story that Steve told me was that it would have meant touring and Ronnie just wasn’t up to it. It would have meant pretty much carrying him everywhere, no tour, no album. That’s why the Mijits never came out at that point in time.’

At this stage of his life, with his second marriage now over, and with no home to call his own or any money in the bank, Marriott hit the pub gig circuit, with a line up called the Packet of Three. In 1984, his daughter Tonya, was born, after a relationship with Terri Elias and she was joined by half-sister Mollie, her mum being Manon Piercey, an old friend of Steve’s. The two joined Steve’s first daughter, Sarah/Lesley, who was born in 1966.

Steve began to address his alcohol problem with the help of Manon, whilst touring in Europe and the US with the Packet of Three. Then after a split with Manon, he moved in with Toni Poulton. He briefly renamed his band,  The Official Receivers, a reference to his continuing tax problems.

He and Toni settled in a 16th century house in the village of Arkesden in Essex and Steve became very well known to the locals, for his somewhat eccentric behaviour. Due to previous strife, he remains unwilling to get involved with record companies, preferring to play in pubs in London and Essex.  However, the rest of the Packet of Three line-up become dissatisfied with that and it comes to an end (for the time being) with Marriot now aged 39.
 
He and  Toni married  in July 1989 and he started up the Packet of Three once again, playing something like 200 gigs a year by 1990. An old face then entered the picture, when Peter Frampton arrived and asked Steve to consider reviving Humble Pie.  The money that would have  generated would have made Marriott’s life a lot easier, but after flying to Los Angeles to work on some tracks, he returned to the UK, having had a change of heart.

In April 1991, he arrived home from the States with Toni. After an edgy evening at a friend’s house, an argument between the two, resulted in Marriott leaving and going back to his own home. At 6.30am the next morning,  a fire was reported at his cottage and the fire brigade arrived to discover the property well ablaze.

Assistant Divisional Fire Officer Keith Dunatis – ‘It was a tough fight getting upstairs. We searched the bedroom areas, and it was very hot, we knew immediately that no-one could have survived the fire. We began to feel around the walls and discovered him lying on the floor between the bed and the wall. I would say he had been in bed and tried to escape. As soon as I saw the body clearly, I knew who it was. I used to be a fan, it’s difficult to put my feelings into words. The scene was horrific in that corner of the room. I saw him lying there and thought what a pity it all was. I deal with many fires but this one was like walking down memory lane. We managed to salvage all his guitars and musical equipment. I feel a bit upset; all the firemen do. It was like seeing part of our lives gone forever.’

Steve was just 44

‘Tomorrow changes
Fields of green today
Yesterday is dead, but not my memory.’

A dropped, lit, cigarette was thought to have set the bed on fire, after Steve had fallen asleep. At the inquest, a verdict of accidental death by smoke inhalation was recorded.

 

His funeral was attended by the likes of Kenney Jones, Peter Frampton, Joe Brown, P. P. Arnold, Terence Stamp, Jerry Shirley and Greg Ridley and tributes poured in.

David Bowie –  ‘The best vocalist that this country has ever produced.’

Bob Dylan – ‘Simply an amazing talent.’

Roger Daltrey  – ‘One of the best British rock singers of all time.’ 

Paul Rodgers – ‘I loved Stevie, just a fantastic singer. But he pissed off everyone around him.’

Mick Jagger – ‘He could sound like a pixie with the sweetest pipes. He could have led children off a cliff with that side of his voice. And then he could bray like a donkey, gale force and the power of his voice would turn your skin to ice.’

Bobby Gillespie – ‘Steve Marriott’s voice is as sweet and soulful as Otis or Aretha.’

Irvine Welsh – Steve Marriott is one of Britain’s great white soul voices … and his cockney music-hall vocals paved the way for musicians like Bowie and the Pistols to sing in hometown accents while also influencing people like myself to write in their local dialect. A towering cultural icon.

This from Steve on hearing Led Zeppelin– ‘I would hear it come on the radio (Whole Lotta Love) while driving in America and I would think, go on my son, until one day I thought fucking hell, that’s us, the bastards. He took it note for note, word for word.’

Robert Plant – ‘I wanted to be Steve Marriott.’

 

The Mumper of SE5

 

THE SPEAKEASY VOLUME 2 – AVAILABLE NOW

THE SPEAKEASY Volume Two by Mark Baxter (The Mumper)

Illustrations by Lewis Wharton

Foreword by Rhoda Dakar

Available to ORDER here

ART GALLERY CLOTHING

Spring / Summer 2022 Collection Available Now