Interview: Bobby Elliott of The Hollies

There aren’t a lot of bands that can claim to have been around for a full five decades – that’s half a century, people – but The Hollies can, thanks to Allan Clarke continuing to fight the good fight ever since founding the band with Graham Nash back in 1962. (Actually, Clarke and Nash had played together prior to that, but it was in ’62 that they first called themselves The Hollies.) Although Bobby Elliott can’t claim to have been there at the very, very beginning of the band, no one can say that he hasn’t been around the block a few times with them, having come aboard in August 1963. As the band prepares to release a collection to celebrate their anniversary – 50 AT FIFTY, which hits stores on October 21 – Elliott took some time to chat with Rhino about some of the highlights of his time with the band, including a backstage chat with Bruce Springsteen and having an unexpected elevator encounter with one of the funniest and most famous trios of all time.

Rhino: First of all, can you hear me all right?

Bobby Elliott: I can hear you perfectly!

Excellent. Same here. But you can’t always count on that with calls from the US to the UK, so I wanted to be sure.

Well, that’s true. I was talking to some people over in… Now where was it? In the Far East this morning, and it was a bit difficult. I’ve been talking to people in Finland, Norway, and Malaysia.

And now you’re talking to someone in Virginia Beach.

Am I? That’s interesting, because when the Hollies were in Virginia Beach in 1968, we had a day off, and the Navy phoned up…and we did a show for the aircraft carrier the USS Independence. The ship had just come in from Vietnam, and the crew was allowed off for a day or so – all the planes had gone off – and they asked if we’d do a show. So we did a show down in one of the hangars! [Laughs.] It was really quite fun!

Well, to begin at the beginning, you were actually in a few other bands before you joined The Hollies, correct?

Yeah, Tony Hicks and I had a band called The Dolphins. Tony was 14, I was 18, but we were quite a hot band here in the north, and as time went on, Allan Clarke and Graham Nash heard about us. The Hollies were forming and they wanted a guitar player, so their manager kept coming and pestering us: “Tony, you must come and join this new band, The Hollies. They’ve got an audition at Abbey Road Studios!” It was all this, that, and the other. And he said, “Okay, if Bob comes along, I will!” [Laughs.] Anyway, that went by the book, and he went along by himself. Meanwhile, there were no Dolphins anymore!

He phoned up a few years later and said, “There’s an audition with Shane Fenton and the Fentones at King’s Hall at Stone-on-Trent.” So I went down and did the audition, and they said, “Yeah, that’s great!” I said, “Oh, have I got the gig?” “Well, no. Can you come down to London on Monday? We’ve got eight other drummers to audition.” So eventually my dad drove me down there in his little van, and we eventually found this sort of cellar place just off of Tottenham Court Road in London, and there were eight other guys queued up there. I recognized them ‘cause they all had drumsticks sticking out of their coat pockets. [Laughs.] But I was at the back of the queue ‘cause we got lost coming down from the north of England. The smoky old industrial north. But it turned out I got the gig. I was number eight, but I got the gig…and number three in the line was Keith Moon! That was before The Who, of course.

So I was with this Shane Fenton guy for about three or four months, and then I joined The Hollies, mainly because their original drummer drove the van, and they couldn’t afford a roadie. But when they made their first record, then they could afford to pay Allan Clarke’s brother, Frank, to drive the van, so it was time for Don (Rathbone) to go. And then Tony and Graham welcomed me in, and…the rest is history, so to speak. That was in the middle of 1963.

It’s nice that the new Hollies retrospective, 50 AT FIFTY, features “Ain’t That Just Like Me” and “Searchin’,” giving Don his due as the band’s first drummer.

Yes! It’s a quite interesting collection, because…I wrote the B-side of “Just One Look” with Tony – it’s almost exactly 50 years ago since I did that – and the 50th track on 50 AT FIFTY is written me and our singer, Pete (Howarth). So it completes the circle: 50 years on, I’ve written the 50th track on this album! [Laughs.]

I was wondering about that, actually. Throughout the run of the band, you really haven’t done a ton of songwriting.

No, I haven’t, but…well, Nash and Clarke and Hicks were fine writers! Just look at the track record there. It’s just nice to be in their company on that list of writers! But it was so competitive, certainly in the ‘60s, and they were turning stuff out like crazy so, you know, I wasn’t too bothered. And I didn’t want to rock the boat or anything. We were all buddies, and we were having so much fun anyway that I wasn’t bothered by writing. I was playing drums and being involved in the arrangements of the songs and the recordings and the live performances, which have always been paramount on The Hollies’ career.

How surreal was it to find yourself in the middle – or the tail end, really – of the British Invasion?

Yeah, The Beatles had hit in 1962, ’63, and then The Hollies started just shortly after that, a month or two. So we got pretty well vetted into being a pretty good act, and then we got to the States some time after the Beatles, maybe about six months after.Our first gig was at the Paramount Theater in New York City, where we did five shows a day on The Soupy Sales Easter Show, along with Little Richard, who had a still-unknown Jimi Hendrix on guitar then. And the house band was the King Curtis 16-piece orchestra, which was fantastic!

Had you been to the States prior to coming there with The Hollies?

No, that was my first trip. We arrived late, because there was a problem with work permits at that time. Because British bands had started to flood into the States, they decided that there had to be an exchange, so if a British band wanted to get over to the States, an American band or artist had to go over. I think they were waiting for someone to match us up with…and I think we were matched up with the Count Basie Orchestra! [Laughs.] The Count Basie Band went across the pond, and we came over!

So do you have a Soupy Sales anecdote from that first US gig?

Well, not so much with Soupy, but Graham and I – he was my buddy in the band – we arrived late, and the show had started. It all started at nine in the morning with a movie, which was The Unsinkable Molly Brown, with Debbie Reynolds. So they’d have a movie and a show, and then each artist would only be allowed two songs. So we arrived, and…I think the second or third show was about to go up, and the King Curtis band was down in the orchestra pit on this big stage that they’d then lift up to play the fanfare or whatever. Well, we were looking for dressing rooms, so we got down into the basement, where it was all dark, and I opened this door and…there was this lovely smell. And suddenly you were aware that there were people there. It was the King Curtis orchestra, sitting in the darkness, waiting for the stage to be lifted up so that they could play the first song. And it was total silence, but when I opened the door and said something, a voice suddenly said, “Hey! Where’s Ringo?” [Laughs.]

I will say that Soupy was great, yeah, but there were such a lot of artists on the show. He had dancers and everything. But he was very kind to us, and…it was a great time. It was our first time in the States, and we were just so excited, you know? It was five English guys from the grimy industrial north of England. To be in New York City was a dream.

When it came to selecting songs for the band to record, how interactive was the band with the selection, and how much was the label responsible?

Well, it was ourselves, and we were turning more to Ron Richards, our producer in the early days. He chose the first two or three, and then we started finding songs. And then the guys, they would write the B-sides, but then they got confident by writing the A-sides, so we took off with “We’re Through” and “Carrie Anne” and “On a Carousel” and “Stop, Stop, Stop” and quite a few others. We were writing albums full of songs. But we knew if our songs weren’t up to it, there was a better song coming along…like, for example, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” and “The Air That I Breathe,” which we did later on. That was fine. We knew that was a great vehicle for our harmonies, and there was no problem with that.

How was it working with Graham Gouldman’s material? You certainly had great returns with a few of his songs.

Well, Graham Gouldman was a Manchester guy, and the first time ‘round… Well, he gave us “Look Through Any Window,” which we did, and then it was “Bus Stop.” But because we were working so much in those days, we didn’t have much time to socialize. You know, we met the guy, he was just up and coming – I think he was writing songs for his father at the time – and it just worked. So we got “Look Through Any Window” and then “Bus Stop,” and...in fact, we turned down a song called “No Milk Today,” because we didn’t like it. Well, we didn’t necessarily dislike it, but we were writing – we thought – better songs ourselves.

Do you have any recollections from the experience of working with Peter Sellers on “After the Fox”?

Yeah! Bacharach was on there. Burt Bacharach was in charge, but…what was he playing? It was like a harpsichord kind of thing. It was an upright piano with sort of…what would you call it? A stride piano. It wasn’t a true harpsichord, but it was sort of the sound we wanted. And Jack Bruce was on bass! We had a bass player at that time, Eric Haydock, who was very unreliable, and if he didn’t want to turn up for a gig, he didn’t. So at the last minute, Jack Bruce – pre-Cream days – came in on bass and did that.

Ron Richards was in charge of that, but George Martin was sort of in charge of Peter Sellers. [Laughs.] And Peter came in and…he was a very quiet man. You know, Peter was very much an actor, and he would do his parts, but the real Peter Sellers was quite gentle and quiet. But one thing he did, I noticed, was that there was a grand piano in the number two studio, and he walked up to it and threatened to karate chop it. That was about the only laugh he got, really!

You guys did a cover of The Beatles’ “If I Need Someone,” and the word has always been that George Harrison was a bit snarky about your version at the time. Did he ever backtrack and apologize to The Hollies for giving him his first hit single as a songwriter?

George wrote later on to Tony – ‘cause he lived in the village, Henley-on-Thames, which is just a quarter mile from where Tony lives – and he said it wasn’t him who actually said it. It was one of their PR guys who actually said it! So he denied that he’d said that, but it was unfortunate at the time, because we thought it was written especially for us. We didn’t know they were gonna release it, we thought it was just for us. So I said, “Well, good luck! We have other good songs of our own!” But Allan and Graham were so, “Oh, George has written it for us!” We thought that was great, so that’s why we jumped in the studio and did it, and to get that afterwards in the music press was quite a bit of a disappointment.

When Graham ended up leaving the band, was that why The Hollies started to rely on outside songwriters again immediately thereafter?

Well, we’d done a few covers with Graham, of course, but…Ron didn’t like “Marrakesh Express.” We did a basic track of it, but it wasn’t to be. I wanted to do it, because I’m a great trainspotter. I’m a steam railways man! [Laughs.] So I was into it. But it was at that time when Graham was more interested in leaving the country, really. He’d met David (Crosby) and Stephen (Stills), and he was friends with Mama Cass and…well, she was friends with all the band, but Graham especially. But we’d worked in the States so many times and made so many friends over there, and Graham had split with his wife, Rose, in England. I think there was the slight artistic disagreement, but he wanted a new life and he wanted away.

We had a song called “Listen to Me,” which was written by Tony Hazzard, and Top of the Pops – which was the massive BBC program that was on every week – phoned up and said, “Look, ‘Listen to Me’ is in the Top 20, we want you on the show next week. And if you come on the show, it’s gonna be in the top five!” I thought, “Great!” But, no, Graham was in the States, doing demos with David and Stephen, so that’s when we had to sort of push and say, “Come on, you’ve got to make a decision now.” And that was it: Graham left on my birthday, December 8, 1968. The last gig we did together as The Hollies was at the London Palladium.

It’s a rotten birthday present, but as a last gig, it’s not a bad way to go out.

Oh, yeah. We’d had fun. And we’re still friends. We’ve done reunion tours together, we did an album together, and I was in touch with him a few months ago. In fact, when The Hollies were touring Australia, the promoter was just chatting away, and he said, “What’s the chance of Graham coming and working with the band again?” And we said, “Well, actually, he’s just across the water here, isn’t he?” We’re in Sydney, and just across the Pacific is Kauai, where he lives. So I spoke with Graham, and he said, “Well, that’s quite an interesting idea, Bobby!” So, you know, he’s got his commitments, we’ve got our commitments, but things like that are always floating around, and…you never say never!

Is there an underrated Hollies single –or more than one –that you always felt should’ve been a bigger hit than it was?

Underrated… [Long pause.] Oh, I think all in all everything was pretty fair to us. I was very happy about “Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress” being #1 on Cashbox in the States. That wasn’t intended to be a single. That was just going to be an album track on Distant Light. But Epic/CBS called up and said, “Look, this ‘Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress,’ we want it as a single.” And we said, “Go ahead!” So it was great to have that. But it was quite unusual for a Hollies record, in that there was no harmony on it.

I’ve always been surprised that your cover of Bruce Springsteen’s“4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)” wasn’t a bigger hit.

Oh, yeah? That’s true. I think it was a hit in Germany, though, and perhaps a minor hit in some other European countries. It wasn’t a biggie, but it was all right at the time. In fact, we saw Bruce. Bruce came into the dressing room. We were doing some kind of a presentation for the record company, and Bruce came into the dressing room and we chatted to him. And coincidentally, earlier this year… As I said, we were in Australia, and we’d moved over to Adelaide and we’d gone back to the hotel after the show, and Springsteen’s gang were in!

Bruce was doing a big stadium thing the following night, so they’d come over, and I was drinking with Max Weinberg and Garry (Tallent) in the bar, and we had a great time. But Max was quizzing me on all my fills from, like, “Look Through Any Window” and things like that! He was asking me what I did and what drums I used and all that sort of thing. Which was nice, ‘cause I’ve obviously followed his career! And we’ve met before. But one thing he said was, “Oh, that thing you did on the fadeout of ‘Pay You Back with Interest,’ when you go out on the cymbal, I’ve used that. And, you know, when we’re rehearsing, Bruce says, ‘Now what we’re gonna do here… Hey, Max! Do what The Hollies’ guy does!” I’m still dining out on that. [Laughs.] I went home a very happy guy that night in Australia!

When you think back, is there a strangest or most unlikely bill that The Hollies found themselves on?

Hmmm. Do you mean like a show? Um… [Starts to laugh.] We don’t really like to do bills. We like to work by ourselves. Certainly now, anyway. But going back awhile, we used to do shows like Hullabaloo and The Hollywood Palace, and…I’ll tell you what: I think our first time in L.A., we stayed at the old Knickerbocker Hotel, and it’s where all the old Hollywood stars stayed. It was a beautifully creepy place. But we were waiting for the lift, and the lift door opens…and the Three Stooges were standing there! Remember, this is 1965 or 1966, but…it was the Three Stooges! I couldn’t believe it! We were like kids in the candy shoppe.

Lastly, I have to ask about the experience of doing the Staying Power album a few years ago, where you were working with material written by – among others – Gregg Alexander and Enrique Iglesias.

Oh, yeah! We had great songs for the Staying Power album. We were lucky to get those! Ray Stiles, our bass player, got those because his ex-colleague Rob Davis – who’s written Kylie (Minogue) songs and stuff like that – provided a few songs, but we had a couple of other guys as well, like Mark Read. But, yeah, that was a great bunch of songs! So it’s still going on for us. And we’re off on tour soon, to Finland and Sweden and Norway, and then we’ll do a small British tour, and then we’ve got a fairly large spring tour of the UK.

Our show now is, like, two and a half hours long. We like to do the traditional sort of British theaters, and we do an hour, then the 20-minute intermission, and then we do about an hour and a quarter more. So that’s a full evening. We don’t go for supports and things like that. It’s our theater for the day. And the crew and everybody, they’re all like part of the family, and…it’s an event, really. And that’s what keeps it going, I think. The live shows are so enjoyable, and the – I dare say – adulation at the end, and the standing ovation. You float off after that. And then you have a shower, get changed, have a drink, and…there’s no better feeling. That’s the best life for me. So that’s something I don’t want to let go! [Laughs.] I’ll have to one day – time’s rolling on – but for now, it’s still great fun.