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Along with Barry Paul, Terry Scott and Ken Durow, I was in a band called Paper, working through Ann Luckett at M.M.F. agency, where Ricky Martin managed Heaven. Barry and I lived in Chichester, Terry lived in Southampton, and Kenny lived in Havant. We were like thousands of other little bands; gigging around Hampshire and Sussex and hoping to get the chance to play ‘Born To Be Wild’ live on Radio 1 Club. Heaven were the top dogs, and with good reason. They wrote their own songs, played them well, and had their sound sorted, always balanced and listenable, and they were nice guys – self effacing and, it appeared, united in their musical goals. On top of that, they were recording an album.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when the agency told us that Ray King, Dave Gautrey and Nobby Clarke were going to split from the band, and were interested in forming a new Heaven with Barry, Terry and me. They felt they were under utilised in the current set up, and wanted to stretch out more, and they had the support of Ricky Martin. I wondered why the management were going with Ray, Dave and Nobby, and why the name ‘Heaven’ was migrating with them rather than staying with the songwriters – Brian and Andy, but the trend then was to prioritise virtuoso musicianship over song writing, despite the charts being filled with great pop songs.

We had a meeting in a pub in Chichester, and the deal was done, with little thought for those who would lose out; Kenny, Paper’s drummer; Annie, Paper’s manager; Barry Edney, Paper’s roadie (none of us could drive) and the other members of Heaven. We got together for a play in the cellar below Barry Paul’s parents’ shoe repair shop, and we were off.

We had a band, but we didn’t have any songs. Ray introduced us to Frank Zappa’s ‘Hot Rats’, and we jammed on ‘Willie The Pimp’, which became a standard for us, and we knocked some riffs and lyrics into songs, but song writing was the weak spot. Our first gig was at a charity show in Portsmouth, something to do with the Lord Mayor. I can only remember that we were under rehearsed, that the material felt thin, and that I was overplaying like mad to try and compensate – it doesn’t work now, and it didn’t then. I came away worried about where new songs would come from, but it was soon resolved. I got to Barry’s cellar early, for a rehearsal, and he told me that he didn’t like the band and that he was quitting.

It wasn’t a long discussion. I could see his point – I had similar misgivings. But he was the local hero guitarist, and a damn fine one, and there was no doubt that he would progress in the business, whatever the route. I didn’t have that confidence in my own abilities, so I was sticking with whatever prospects Heaven might offer. I wanted to get out of Chichester. I wanted to go to London and play in a band.

It’s hard now to convey what ‘London’ meant in the music world then. London had venues and record companies and studios and publishers and big-time agents. London was where A & R people could see you and sign you up – they weren’t going to travel to Southsea or Dorchester. London was the hub of the music business, in a way that is difficult to comprehend in the era of internet, mobile phones, social media, Youtube and, believe it or not, better road links.

Terry got in touch with Eddie Harnett, who had worked with the Mojos and other Southampton bands, and he joined the same day that Barry left, bringing with him the song writing that the band had so far lacked.

Then it was out on the road, gigging round the country in our truck, a diesel with separate cab and body. We took it in turns - except for Dave Gautrey, who drove – riding either in the relative comfort of the cab, or in the back with the gear. Admittedly, the gear was behind a bulkhead, and we had rows of aircraft seats, but the only windows were forward facing and so high up that the only way you could see out was by balancing on one leg on the worse than useless heater and craning your neck to get a view of where you were going. We froze in winter and roasted in summer. The engine was governed to 45 mph and a gig in Penzance meant leaving Portsmouth before daybreak and getting to the venue with just time to set up.

Terry Scott would always be described as ‘gravel voiced’, and I marvel that I can’t remember him having a sore throat, or worse, considering the abuse heaped on his larynx. He was a consummate ‘front man’; when he sang, you watched and listened.

Ray King was a self taught reeds player – all sorts of saxophones, clarinet, oboe, bassoon, flute – and his tenor solos had a unique quality that hinted at jazz, blues, folk and shades of the original Heaven.

Dave Gautrey played trumpet and flugelhorn, drove the truck and looked after the PA. He didn’t waste words but, as you can imagine with someone who habitually wore Scholl sandals and socks, he was his own man, and when did speak, we listened.

Eddie Harnett – trim, big moustache, always smiling – played guitar, sang a high harmony (and some lead) and wrote a fair few songs, always melodic, and usually demo-ed on his reel to reel tape recorder. He had been reunited with his father soon after joining the band, and moved into his dad’s house in Southampton. We were gigging at a London club when the police arrived to break the tragic news that Eddie’s dad had died in a tragic accident at work. Later, we spent many days and nights jamming, rehearsing and writing at what was now Eddie’s house.

(Malcolm) Nobby Clarke was not your average band drummer. His kit had more of a jazz tuning, and his technique was jazz chops with rock power. He was quick on the uptake and musical, and I can still picture the way his eyes locked onto the ride cymbal as he played a neat swing groove.

After signing the record contract and before starting the album, Derek Somerville joined us, on tenor, to fill out the horn section. Derek was younger than the rest of us, and quite shy, for which he got mercilessly ragged. His arrival was significant; we had not started out as a Blood, Sweat and Tears / Chicago – type band. As mentioned, Zappa’s ‘Hot Rats’ was a big influence, and if we thought about it at all, we would probably have put ourselves in the same category as Jon Hiseman’s Coliseum, rather than the brass rock bands. Now, we had a horn section, and Rikki Farr’s influence was taking hold, of which, more later.

All of them were good natured, funny, upbeat, and good companions on the road. We experimented with instrumentation – at one time, I was playing flute, fiddle and bass, though not all at the same time - and, at that stage, the wind instruments sounded integral to the songs – rather like the original Heaven. Dave was expert at running the WEM PA, and we gradually got played in and comfortable with each other. But there was a problem. London was calling.

Ricky Martin and the agency were doing their best for us, but the country was filled to overflowing with bands trying to ‘make it’, and if we were going to ‘make it’ we would need a finger on the scales. Eventually, Ray suggested that we contact Rikki Farr and ask him to help us. We met him at his boutique – I think it was in the Tricorn – and he readily agreed to get involved, phoning Dave Margereson at CBS records as we sat there. A cynic might conclude that, since his boutique was about to go out of business, there was a certain attraction in taking on a band and procuring some record company funding, but, to be fair, he had the contacts and the chutzpah, and that’s why we approached him. Soon after, we took a ferry to the Isle of Wight, to the house where Rikki and the Foulkes were organising the 1970 festival, and there we signed with Rikki Farr. There’s a photo on the web, taken outside the house, and you might be forgiven for thinking that we were at a wake. Ricky Martin was with us, and, on the ferry back, he told us that it would only be a matter of time before he was out on his ear. We protested that we wouldn’t let that happen, but it did. Another friend overboard.

Rikki Farr put us on the festival, on the Sunday afternoon, in the midst of the cream of British bands – Tull, Ten Years After, The Moody Blues, Free – all match fit and at their peak from touring the USA. Hendrix was top of the bill. We had a police escort from the ferry, and, after playing, we stayed until halfway through Hendrix’s set, then dashed for the ferry. A week later, we were in Paris for a short residency at a club, then back to a record contract with CBS records. I seem to recall that they advanced £36,000. Rikki moved into a plush town house in Mayfair with two staff, and we moved into a very different town house in Putney, with dormitory like sleeping arrangements and two Scouse labourers living in the garage.

The record company advance was haemorrhaging cash; the band were on £25 a week each; rent was being paid on houses in Mayfair and Putney. We had new instruments and amplifiers – trading in our old ones, not necessarily a good thing – and then Rikki saw and heard a Kelsey and Morris PA. We got a complete custom built rig, and then, it seemed, modified, added to or changed it every few weeks, all at a cost. The old truck had to go, and we bought a brand new Mercedes hi-top van, complete with aircraft seats and 8-track. We weren’t gigging much – we had started recording – so there wasn’t much money coming in, but we didn’t care; we had no desire to look at the books. We would make a million-selling album and have more money than we could spend in a lifetime.

We recorded the album at CBS studios in New Bond Street. It was big and a bit lacking in atmosphere, and we were relative novices. Rikki was producing, but he didn’t have the ears or the musical knowhow to get the best from us, or suggest how as song might have a better structure, or recognise when something just wasn’t good enough. By this time, he had decided that we would be another Chicago (CTA), so the horns were augmented in the studio by trombone and another trumpet. Whereas, in both the original Heaven and, thus far, in Heaven 2, the wind instruments had been integral, they now became a superstructure, bolted on to the songs and a bit unwieldy, a bit top heavy. We all did our best – Nobby was outstanding – but our best needed to be better, and it could have been – with the right producer.

Rikki’s forte was overkill. More guitars, more horns, a string quartet, a double album with the mother of all gate covers, too many liner notes. He was likeable, charming, convincing, a big character, and he probably thought the band and the album were going to ‘make it’, but, leaving aside the quality of the music, there was no plan, no strategy. We didn’t release any singles, yet both Chicago and BST had got to the wider record buying public through singles. Consequently, we weren’t on the radio and, apart from one Disco 2 appearance, we weren’t seen on television. We didn’t get support spots on tours or major gigs, and we didn’t even play the sort of gigs that we had played when we were based down south. Not that we cared; it would all work out.

One day, soon after we had completed the album, Rikki dropped a bombshell. Ray, Dave and Derek (who joined before we started recording) would have to go. They didn’t have the rock n’ roll image and they didn’t sound like Chicago. Dave was going to stay on as sound engineer. I remember sitting in the dressing room at a gig, telling them that it was all Rikki’s doing, not mine, and that I had no choice but to go along with it. We’d asked Rikki to manage, and we got what we asked for. I had got to London, and I was going to stay there. Two more friends tossed overboard.

To replace Ray, Dave and Derek, Rikki recruited Norman Leppard on sax and flute, Martin drover on trumpet, and John Bennett on trombone. They were all experienced and superb players, but they were from a different background. They didn’t live with us, or travel with us, or listen to the same music as us. They were great fun on the road, and they were guys we could learn from, but it now seemed like there was Terry, Eddie, Nobby and me, plus Dave (although he was starting to seem more a part of the management than the band, which was fair enough) and horn section who were there on a paid-to-play basis. I imagine they were getting more than £25 a week.

We had some great times in Germany, mostly Munich and Frankfurt in summer, once playing in the main square in Frankfurt in the late afternoon, with all the traffic and shoppers, and people hanging out of office windows. We had to start after the clock chimed for four o’clock and finish before it chimed for five. By this time, the band was getting slick, confident and professional.

With an album that was still-born, I started to wonder – where to next? Even I had begun to realise that we didn’t have what would now be called ‘a viable business model’. We weren’t writing new material, and, although it hadn’t been mentioned, we would have to get more songs recorded and released if we were to stay in the game. I got back to the house in Putney, after a weekend in Chichester, to find Terry in pensive mood. He thought Eddie was our problem; his guitar playing wasn’t up to scratch and his songs were too ‘poppy’. I agreed – the prospect of change, any change, felt like progress, even if it wasn’t – and so we sacked Eddie, who had written more songs than the rest of us. Another friend overboard.

We asked Barry Paul to rejoin, and he jumped at the chance. His opinion of the band and the music hadn’t changed, but he freely admitted that he would do anything to get away from Chichester. He wanted to get to London.

A few rehearsals, a bigger and better (and more expensive) PA, and we were off to Germany again. The band was pretty good – tight and professional, and sounding more like Rikki’s idea of a British Chicago. But we still weren’t writing, and it was now obvious to us that we had stalled. There wasn’t much chance of CBS throwing good money after bad, certainly not without some evidence that we could come up with new songs that they could sell, and Rikki’s ‘business model’ wasn’t self financing; it required a record company to finance his and our lifestyles.

Another trip to Germany, and this time with Nobby working out his notice period – we (me, Barry and Terry) had fired him before the tour, but asked him to do the German gigs, as we had failed to find a replacement. I can’t even remember what we were thinking when we wanted to sack him. Probably, he was the latest sacrifice that would persuade the Gods of Stardom to smile on us. By the end of the tour, in Hamburg, we were asking him to stay, but I don’t remember apologising to him.

I’m a bit hazy about how I left. I remember that I had been jamming with Gary Farr whilst staying at the Mayfair house. We would sit and just play his songs, and listen to the Grateful Dead’s ‘Working Man’s Dead’. I had started to get a liking and a feel for music where the bass would lay back and let the song tell the story, instead of grinding out gymnastic riffs. Gary wanted to form a band, and he offered me the bass chair. I worked out my notice with Heaven – in Germany – and that was that. Mick Feat, from Portsmouth and Coconut Mushroom with Barry Paul, took over. It didn’t last long after that, with the trumpet and trombone leaving, and the band trying to find a direction. That was the end of Heaven 2, and the start of a few more versions, all with Terry, and all with better songs than we had, but not brass rock, and a long way from the floating melodies of the original Heaven, or even ‘Willie The Pimp’ in a cellar in East Street, Chichester.

I gigged with Gary for a while – including the inevitable Germany – in a band with Denny Barnes, a great guitarist from Portsmouth, who went on to play with Sam Apple Pie and then emigrated to Australia. Reg Isadore was on drums, and he went on to play with Robin Trower among many others. Mike Deacon, from Vinegar Joe and The Greatest Show On Earth, and, afterwards, Suzi Quatro, Darts, Roy Wood, Ginger Baker and countless others, was on keys. It never really jelled, although I learned a lot and – hey – I was still in London. After that, I joined Supertramp for a year, and didn’t play one note in anger. They wanted to write and record a new album, and didn’t want me to learn the old material. Actually, I think the real reason was that Roger enjoyed playing bass more than guitar, so they gigged with him on bass and without guitar. We tried to record some of the songs that would later make ‘Crime Of The Century’ a massive hit, but it didn’t work. I wasn’t the only thing wrong with it, but I struggled with the songs, and the results were nothing like the hit versions. After a year, Roger told me that it wasn’t working, which was a polite way of firing me, and I headed back to Chichester for a year, to regroup and improve my bass playing. As a footnote, the following summer I was on holiday from my factory job, and I took a day trip to London to see some people. I saw Terry, and then I saw Dave Margereson at CBS records – the guy who had signed Heaven. After relating to him the story of my year with Supertramp, I finished off by saying that, although I couldn’t see a future for them with the current line up, if ever he had the chance to sign Rick and Roger, he should do so, because they were exceptional songwriters. He later moved to A & M, where he signed Supertramp (Rick and Roger plus musicians who played the songs the way the writers heard them) and later became their manager. It’s a funny old world.

I visited the house in Mayfair, to find that Rikki Farr was running a PA hire company, using the equipment paid for from Heaven’s record advance. I joined Heaven with a bass and an amplifier; I left with just a bass. Dave was still with him, and they eventually moved to the USA, where I believe they have been successful.

After a year working in a factory, I joined a band in – that’s right – London. I played with various bands and artists until 1980, when I quit playing professionally. I retired in 2009, and now I’m a ‘pro muso’ again, working regularly, with a bit of recording and some trips abroad.

The obvious question is; what lessons did I learn from Heaven 2? To be honest, I’m not sure. What would I do differently? I’d like to say that I wouldn’t dump friends to get what I wanted, but I’m not sure that it would be true – certainly not for the twenty-two year old me. I would probably say that musicians should get to know about business, but it wasn’t like that then, and we were only like all the other bands who thought that success was a low hanging fruit and who couldn’t see the essential differences between what they were doing and what the those who had ‘made it’ were doing.

What stands out for me is how nice all involved were - maybe too nice, but it’s hard to see that as a fault now. Even Rikki, although I have been critical, was a lot of fun and, after all, we went to him to get a leg up the greasy pole, and he delivered. We knew him by reputation, so it was up to us to look out for ourselves. He didn’t make us superstars, but he was only one of the factors in our failure.

I wrote this because my son had found some tracks from the album on the web, and, unusually for him, was not totally dismissive of them. I had a listen, and found that I could forgive the musical fumbling of the youthful me, and that in turn led me to an fresh and honest look at the whole episode. I can hear now a little of what some people heard then and maybe still hear now, and I’m glad if we made music that moved them.

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where did I get 'Clarke' from??! He's Nobby Glover, I guess it's an age thing.
Please feel free to copy to others - some might have a different version of an event, or may recollect stuff that I've forgotten. Though I would be happy to get involved, I think you're probably right be skeptical about a reunion gig. We never thought we would get old and infirm, did we? I heard from Barry Paul on Facebook recently - he's been quite ill, still living in the US. I never got the chance to ask Andy or Brian how they felt about the split, or any of you for that matter. I've often wondered whether it was on the cards anyway, or a bolt from the blue.
John

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Not exactly accurate in places but mostly right. It’s interesting to see the whole episode from his perspective. Strange, but I was under the impression that John actually wanted to get rid of us (Derek, Dave and myself.) I know that, at my last gig with them I did make the comment that if we all stuck together none of this would be happening. I got the answer back from Eddie “well if I was crap I would expect to be fired as well”! Oh well, we live and learn. I must confess as not being very proud of myself with the way the first Heaven was ended. In my defence however at the time it seemed to me that Brian was only interested in drinking and smoking pot. I remember that on one gig we just had enough money for fuel to get home (it was not cash on the night). Brian wanted some money to get himself a beer. Dave said we don’t have enough. In the end Brian made such a fuss that Dave scraped up enough for him to go down the pub. Myself I got nothing to eat! Then Brian told me that in future he would do all of the wind arrangements. My input was not needed anymore. Finally, at a gig with the third ear band Brian, Ollie and Andy were really impressed that the Third Ear band only played for 20 minutes. They made the comment that’s how we should be. I don’t know about you but I wanted to play more not less! I don’t think the Third Ear Band were asked back! I don’t remember where that gig was but I do know that we were asked back on many occasions.
Thanks for passing that on. Did you send it to Nobby and Derek as well? I must contact them. It was nice to see you all again. Next time I will bring a horn with me.
Ray

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Barry Paul and I, both from Chichester, first played together in The Machine, a soul and pop band. I had been playing rhythm and then lead in various bands, before being asked to join The Machine on bass in 1967 (I think). The band split in 1968, and Barry joined Coconut Mushroom. I think The Machine used to get some work through FFM - we used to go and see Blackout, Mushroom and other Portsmouth bands - so I think that's how Barry got the approach. When Mushroom's bass player broke his leg, I stood in for a while.
Soon after that, Barry left Mushroom and we started Paper, recruiting Kenny Durow, who had played with Steamhammer, on drums. We worked through FFM and were managed by Ann Luckett. We played a mixture of the standard three-piece stuff - 'Crossroads', 'Born To Be Wild' - and some off the wall re-arrangements, like Leonard Cohen's 'Suzanne'. In 1969, we were the first FFM band to do the cruise to the USA and back - a story in itself - but, on our return, it was all a bit of an anti-climax.
It was either in 1969 or early 1970 that the agency suggested that we add a singer - Terry Scott. We had seen him with a Southamton band, the name of which I can't remember, and had been impressed. He joined, and we got on well, but it was only a short time afterwards that we were approached to join a re-jigged Heaven.
You probably remember what it was like then. There were loads of bands in Commer vans, navigating the south coast clubs, youth clubs, schools and bowling alleys, all playing the same material and very few having any originality. That's what made the first Heaven stand out; they wrote their own songs and people liked them. Looking back, it's easy to see that a local agency and management and gigs in youth clubs were not a fast track to stardom, but we were all not long out of school and some had day jobs. To be gigging at all seemed a privilege, and, at at that age, it took a while on the circuit before you started to wonder if it was all ever going to go anywhere. At first, Barry and I talked about our ambitions, but by the time the Heaven opportunity arrived, we weren't talking about the future much, and it was probably on the cards that one of us - probably Barry - would soon get a another gig through the Melody Maker 'Musicians Wanted' adverts.
You may know more about it, but I have some vague recollection that Heaven had had some dialogue with Rikki Farr, but that he wouldn't get involved while Ricky Martin and FFM were managing. Certainly, despite the two of them signing an agreement, it didn't take long for Rikki to get rid of Ricky - as Ricky predicted. I suppose Ricky Martin knew that he couldn't stop us talking to or signing with Rikki, but he took it all with good grace - he was a nice guy.
I heard Dave Margereson left CBS under a cloud for doing that with other bands, and that's when he went to A & M. Obviously, I have no proof, but it would explain how we got signed so quickly. Incidentally, I don't I know whether either Ray or Nobby has a copy of the demo we did for CBS; I remember it as being better than the album, and more representative of how we started out.
John

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Demo. I have no recollection at all of making a demo with the second Heaven. The original Heaven 2 management was both Ricky Martin and Ann Luckett. I seem to remember that Ann left of her own free will (unless Ricky Martin forced her out?) The reason why we approached Rikky Farr was that MMF didn’t seem to be able to get much in the way of gigs any more. It was the time when disco’s started to become the way to go and live music was going down. It was felt that, with his connections, Rikky Farr could maybe do more. If you remember at the end of Heaven 1 Brian Kemp suggested departing from MMF as well.
In his writings John has missed several things. Firstly the first recording session was with all of the original “2nd “ Heaven members. We recorded “Song for Chaos” “Got to get away”, “Dawning” and “Thing’s I should have been”. We had Dave Hauler on trombone and Butch Hudson (trumpet and piccolo trumpet) to give a bit more “thickness” to the brass. Dave also played piano. He became quite famous in the end being very involved in the BBC “Jazz Club” programme, plus he played with the BBC radio orchestra. For those 2 weeks we stayed in a cheap hotel close to Hyde Park. Personally, I feel that the songs recorded in that first session had more feeling. They were perhaps not so technically correct but the feel is better. The second set of recording are (to my mind) too mechanical.
As soon as Song for Chaos was finished Ricki Farr took the recording to CBS upper management and on the strength of that track alone (it was the first we had recorded) got the 35 grand advance. There was roughly a 2 to 3 month gap between the first recording session and the next session. In that period Butch Hudson played on one gig but Rikki didn’t like the “image” he projected. He was too old and not “hip” so he was not invited to continue! We then had a trumpet player from the Royal School of Music. His name was George (I can’t remember his full name) He lived in a tiny flat in London. We did several gigs during that period with George. The others were buying new guitars and amps. A new PA was also purchased but we still continued with the Ford van. I did think about getting a new baritone sax but I held back. I realised that the advance would not last forever. About 2 weeks before the next recording session I was told that the rest of the group had decided to replace the brass section completely. We were all fired. Dave would stay on as sound controller and roady. We did one more gig together at a University close to London. In the middle of my sax solo in “Evil Woman” George played the melody from Red Flag (the soviet national anthem) just to tell the others how he felt about everything. He later offered me a job in London with a soul band. Unfortunately, after 2 weeks of rehearsals (and the last of my money gone) the whole thing folded, so it was back to engineering for me! I think the others moved to London about the start of the second recording session. They also bought the Mercedes van about that time. The next few years, for me, were awful. I later joined the merchant navy as ships engineer. Then my life started to come together again.
Ray

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We did a demo of 'Things I Should Have Been' and 'Got to Get Away' at a London studio (can't for the life of me remember the name, although the engineer was someone who later became a name - Martin Birch or Steve Lilleywhite?). I had a copy on acetate - we may all have had one - and I remember it deteriorating very quickly with play. This demo was paid for by CBS. Annie was involved at first because she had managed 'Paper', but I think she ducked out voluntarily.
Whatever the details, I think we can agree that we went with Rikki Farr to improve our situation. A lot of the decision making originated with the Portsmouth guys - Ray, Dave and Nobby - simply because it was easier for them to communicate with each other than with Southampton (Terry), Eastleigh (Eddie) and Chichester (me). I didn't even have a phone. This isn't a criticism; it's just that Ray might remember discussions that influenced what we did where I was not present. Having said that, I was in full agreement with the idea of approaching Rikki, although I didn't know him at the time - only by reputation.
The 'first' recording session to which you refer, Ray, was in CBS New Bond Street, and was in fact after we signed the record deal, and was the first session for the album. Dave Horler was already very well known - he and Butch did eight hours a day session work, including the Radio 2 Big Band, and I had Dave on a Mike Gibbs Band album, which was why I was quite gobsmacked to be in a studio with him. I used to sit in the pub and ask him about people like Ray Warleigh, Alan Skidmore, Kenny Wheeler and Jack Bruce.
The hotel was in Lancaster Gate, and I think we were all in one room!! It was a band hotel - I can't remember the name, but it will come to me - and, at the time, Funkadelic were staying there, having trouble getting to play in Britain because of their stage antics; you could get stoned by just breathing in the corridors.
I don't think this was before we had a contract, for three reasons; first, we had already submitted the demo described above, and, second, CBS New Bond Street was a big, expensive studio. CBS wouldn't have paid for us to use up that amount of studio time there, AND paid session fees for Butch and Dave, AND hotel bills, in order for us to produce a demo that they might then reject, and Rikki was broke, so he couldn't have financed it. And none of the tracks was finished in one session; there were dubbing sessions and re-tracked guitars and vocals. I did a lot of demos for various artists over the following years, and they were never in expensive studios - always in 4 or 8 track jobs, unless somebody other than the prospective record company was footing the bill. Third, I did the whole album on a Dan Armstrong plexi-glass bass (God forgive me) which was bought with the record advance, so we must have got the advance (and started spending it) before we started the album. (I think Nobby got a new Hayman kit, and Eddie a Gibson Flying -V, all used on the album). There is no way we could have afforded any of that before we got the advance. The demo had been done on my Precision, which went as part of the PX for the Dan Armstrong, as did Nobby's old kit and Eddie's Les Paul for their gear.
The short-lived additional trumpet player was, I think, George Barker? I'm sure Rikki would have told the guys he fired that he was doing it at the behest of the rest of the band, but it really was the other way around; he told us that they had to go. It's still pretty inexcusable that Nobby, Terry and I (and maybe Dave Gautry) didn't veto it. We'd sold our souls for £25 a week. If I'm critical of the music, it's not a criticism the musicians in the band; we did what we did at the time, and, although I fully recognise the influence of hindsight, what we did could have been better without session players and with a proper producer. I still don't think it would have been a commercial success. Heaven 2 finished when Ray and Derek were sacked. Although we carried on working and got very slick, we lost more than we gained. I know my memory isn't what it was, so I'm not claiming infallibility, but I'm sure about the demo and recording the album. Let me know your thoughts, chaps,
John

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It’s interesting to realise how one forgets things! I still have no recollection of making a demo with Heaven 2! We went to Rikki because of his musical contacts with the Isle of Wight rock festival. We had played the year before at the Isle of Wight with Heaven 1. At the time gigs with MMF were getting less and less. We had the hope that perhaps Rikki would be able to sort something out for us. Was it a good move or not? In retrospect for my musical career probably not but, because of the way things panned out I went back to engineering. That, for me, was definitely a good move!
I don’t know if you are aware but I ended up being the Chief Mechanical Design Engineer for what is now known as Airbus Space Industries in Germany. Although I am now officially retired I am still employed as a consultant engineer for BMW in Munich. Steady income and interesting work but still with the chance to play music when I want to!
Interestingly I met up with Jon Hiseman in Munich a few years ago. He was doing a concert here with Barbara (his wife). We had played a concert with Colosseum earlier with Heaven 1 in Weymouth and, at that time, I had the chance to get to know both him and Dick Heckstall-Smith. Jon was surprised to see me in Munich. He was very envious however to learn that I was out of the music scene as a professional. He complained to me that he never has the chance to see his children and is always on the road. You are quite correct in remembering that we had a contract before starting the album. What Rikki did was negotiate a large increase in the advance. He took the tape of “Song for Chaos” to the meeting with CBS upper management to let them hear what they were getting! Because of the increase in the advance we did however have to have the royalties on music sales reduced from 5% to , I think 2 %. Not that I ever saw any royalties anyway! Although none of the tracks were finished in one session “Song for Chaos” was the first finished track, and in my mind, the best one.
You say that the record was a flop but it’s surprising to see how many positive reviews it gets now. It is still possible to buy it as a CD and I read that it has been reissued in its original form complete with the fold-out sleeve. The Hotel was in Lancaster Gate. I seem to remember that Idle Race (with, at the time, Jeff Lyne) were also staying there for some of the time. We played football with them in Hyde Park one Sunday morning before going to the pub for lunch! During the week we were not allowed to do any recording before 6 pm because of the offices next to the studio. We were allowed to record at the weekends during the day because the offices were closed, however the pub downstairs was also closed on Sundays!
I had already met Dave Horler in the Dolphin jazz club in Botley although it was not until later that he and I realised it. At that time he lived in Lymington and was playing in a jazz combo in Southampton. I know that you and Eddie bought new guitars before the recording. If you look at the album sleeve you can see pictures of Eddie playing the Gibson Flying-V. I also remember being in agreement of you getting a second bass because you were always breaking strings! That caused a rather unprofessional delay between songs whilst repairs were carried out! However I thought that you and Eddie kept the Fender and other Gibson, although I can’t be sure. I know that Eddie used the “normal” Gibson on “Got to get away” because I remember he used a coke can to get the sliding effect on it. Initially Nobby used his Ludwig Champagne kit however Rikki persuaded him later to part exchange the Ludwig for a double Hayman. Nobby still complains about that today. I think he preferred a single kit to a double.
The additional trumpet player was George Barker. I wonder what happed to him? Talking of instruments I remember, when Rikki told me that the others in the band had decided that I was simply not good enough, he also said that I would be allowed to keep my instruments. I told him I bloody well hope so, I paid for them long before I formed the band! Earlier this year I was in the UK in September for a week. I was very pleased to be able to meet up with Nobby, Mick and Derek and discuss old times. If only we could get to play together again. One last time before the end. I shall be 70 next August. Perhaps I can arrange a concert as my birthday party!
Ray

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And there's more.....

Later activities Singer Terry Scott Jr. formed a third version of Heaven which toured in Europe Heaven 3 and the new line up consisted of,
Mickey Finn on guitar (ex Mickey Finn & the Blue Men featuring Jimmy Page)
Peter Phipps drums who left to join Gary Glitter & later played with Eurithmics (Sweet Dreams)
Brian Johnstone on keyboards (from Roger Chapmans Streetwalkers)
Ronny Thomas bass (one time bassist with the Easybeats)
Norman Leppard on sax & flute (Osibisa)
Terry Scott on vocals.
They toured with the Jeff Beck group, after the gig in Paris, Terry decided too stay & Mickey, Ron & Kieth Boyce (Long John Baldrey’s drummer)joined in St Tropez.
They went back to London & changed there name too The Heavy Metal Kids taking Gary Holton as a replacement for Terry Scott.