JOE MEEK: MADMAN ACROSS THE WATER ;
THE HITMAN AND HER




Robert George Meek: born, April 5, 1929, Newent, Gloucestershire ; died February 3, 1967, London

Over in the States you had Phil Spector, but at the same time here in pre-Beatles Britain there was Joe Meek, and what he lacked in business acumen he more than made up for with sheer homespun innovation, and an eccentricity which really got up the nose of the Soviet-style Politbureau which was the U.K. record industry.

Obsessed with the space-race, and determined to have his "Telstar" beamed across the world via sattelite in a global first, what lay at the nuclear core of his production technique was a Heath Robinsonesque collection of unravelling string and knicker elastic, with Meek miking up the bathroom in his (quite literal) studio-flat to create the tub-thumping drum sound which became his trademark. His secret weapon version of the Spector Wall-of-Sound in an imaginary cold war of his own making.

Hounded, like his peer Brian Epstein, for his sexual proclivities, the increasingly paranoid and out of control Meek shot himself dead in 1967 after a squabble with his boyfriend over money when it became clear he could no longer bankroll his obsessive bid for continued chart-topping domination. Or make his boyfriend a rolled gold superstar.



I recently watched an Arena documentary on Joe Meek in which his two brothers expressed their painfully sad recollections on why Joe was seduced and ultimately broken by the stellar lights of otherwordly ambition. Neither sibling was capable of bringing him back down to earth. Asked directly what was their favourite Meek production, one brother smiled fondly and turned to camera:

"The Cryin' Shames. Do you know that one ? That was a nice one. Lovely song."

Or words to that effect.

I can't argue with that. Turn up the reverb and dampen the lights.



Word of caution, though - lest you feel too sorry for Joe, ponder the even sadder fate of his landlady and erstwhile shoulder-to-cry-on, whom he coolly murdered seconds before turning the gun on himself. Classic case of wrong place, wrong time. Just as is the case with Phil Spector, guns and record producers don't make for a good mix.

download: THE CRYIN' SHAMES: PLEASE STAY (DON'T GO)

posted by ib