The Encyclopedia of Dead Rock Stars (17 page)

In the years prior to his death, Jones had been impetuous, not one for continuity, flitting between addresses and girlfriends like a butterfly among flowers. As a result, he fathered six sons by different women (the first when he was just fifteen), and faced paternity suits for at least three. That was his way: Jones, popularly viewed as sensitive and engaging, always managed to upset those whose lives he touched with a series of selfish and thoughtless deeds. (Erstwhile partner Pat Andrews was dismayed when the musician christened a later child Julian Mark, a reversal of their son’s name.) Responsibility never high in his priorities, an already-fractious relationship with his parents had virtually petered out before Jones reached his twenties. But, whatever they may have felt about his morals, many were surprised by the sheer magnitude of Jones’s success: he met, played with and bowled over many of the heroes of his youth, including Bo Diddley and Alexis Korner, before a young Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were seduced by his stinging slide guitar, and hooked up with him in 1962, even agreeing to be ‘The Rolling Stones’, a name they both plainly disliked. Soon headlining at London’s Crawdaddy Club, The Stones (completed by rhythm section Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts) became the tightest unit in town within a couple of years, presenting a serious threat to the global domination of their ‘politer’ northern friends, The Beatles. With whizz-kid manager Andrew Loog Oldham orchestrating their misbehaviour, the band set about becoming the most talked-about rock ‘n’ roll rebels the industry had yet seen. Brian Jones – seemingly shy, precociously talented and boy-next-door handsome – was the most popular member. He also nurtured a sense of style that blueprinted ‘pop star flair’ for years to come.

Outside The Stones’ music, there were two particularly significant developments as the band grew to become the world’s second biggest: their management’s apparent insistence on employing dubious ‘hard cases’ and Brian Jones’s rapidly increasing paranoia. The guitarist, having had the means from a young age, was already a heavy drinker when stardom opened his world up to drugs. According to those who were there, it was common to witness him mixing beer with wine with whisky, amphetamines with hash with acid. Once the press got hold of this information, Jones’s life became increasingly intolerable. He was not ‘good’ on drugs, falling into zombified states and questioning the motives behind everyone’s actions. Like many paranoiacs, however, his rawest fears were not unfounded. In early 1967, the latest love of Jones’s life was Anita Pallenberg, a stunning German-Italian model who appeared to share and understand all his hopes and ambitions. To her, he could discharge his deepest fears – which at the time consisted largely of Jagger, Richards and Oldham attempting to undermine his leadership of The Stones. Although there was some truth in this summation, it was mostly Jones’s drug habits that were fuelling his apprehension, as well as causing him to be less than efficient during studio time. Gradually, Pallenberg helped his confidence to return – that is, until their arguments and his violent conduct precipitated an affair with Keith Richards on a trip to Morocco. Needless to say, Jones was devastated. His chronic mental condition was soon compounded by an alleged drug ‘plant’ at his flat; only his ill health prevented him receiving a similar jail sentence to those handed to Jagger and Richards that year.

By this time, Brian Jones had been assigned a minder – the first of the ‘hard cases’ to enter the guitarist’s world. Tom Keylock was a thick-set ex-paratrooper whose task it was to keep the meandering musician on the straight and narrow, which, for the most part, he did. The Rolling Stones was now a vast company of players, having been taken over by ruthless American businessman Allen Klein. Keylock was to move quickly up The Stones’ ladder, soon becoming the band’s tour manager, and was to elevate one or two of his old friends with him. One of these was builder Frank Thorogood, who had created his own niche by building a security wall at Mick Jagger’s Elizabethan mansion. But, when Thorogood’s pilfering of a valuable guitar put paid to doing major building work for Keith Richards, Keylock was at pains to find his pal another position within Rolling Stones Inc.

Towards the end of 1968, Jones – possibly playing ‘keep up’ with Jagger, Richards and their country retreats – purchased a farmhouse in Sussex. Cotchford Farm seemed the perfect spot for the troubled guitarist to ground himself and start afresh. It was the former home of A A Milne, the setting for his enchanting Winnie-the-Pooh tales and – to Jones’s obvious delight – boasted a lifesize Christopher Robin statue in honour of the writer’s son, the hero of his stories. Finding himself less and less involved with The Stones, Brian Jones had new aspirations and wanted his home to reflect this. He was, however, not the only person to harbour ambitions for the house: Thorogood, who ‘conveniently’ moved on to the renovation of this property, also had ideas of his own. Suggesting that it would be most efficient for him to live in the adjoining flat during the week, the married Thorogood moved himself in with a girlfriend (nurse Janet Lawson) before Jones had much chance to object. To the musician’s chagrin, Thorogood then moved them both into the house proper, claiming the flat was not big enough. Although pretty much everyone at The Stones’ office (and a couple of their girlfriends) harboured a thorough dislike and mistrust of this man, somehow no one saw fit to keep him away from the fragile Brian Jones. Thorogood – not to mention the handful of devious labourers now under his charge – felt he had the measure of Jones; the builder couldn’t get away with his tricks at the expense of the wilier Richards, but soon found ways to take advantage of his new boss. Possessions inevitably went missing, furniture was mysteriously ordered on Jones’s account and work-days fast became extended boozing sessions. Any work that
was
completed was botched.

The house at pool corner

Early in June 1969, the other Stones called round to inform their ‘unmanageable’ guitarist that his time was finally up. Although he felt some relief at relinquishing something that had become a chore to him, Jones still felt shunned by the band he himself had begun. Partly to quell these feelings, Jones began making serious plans with a number of top musician friends, including Steve Winwood, Steve Marriott and even Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan and John Lennon, planning a supergroup line-up to put all of their previous bands in the shade. The ‘plan’ had a consolidating effect. On 2 July, a revitalized Jones finally decided that the workmen must all go, which inevitably caused ructions with Thorogood. Because he had (unsurprisingly) given Keylock the task of break-ing the news, Jones felt it would soften the blow to invite Thorogood and Lawson to join him and Anna Wohlin for a final drink and a swim in his pool. By the beginning of the evening, Brian Jones was already well over the limit.

The statement given to the police by Thorogood on 3 July was to the effect that he and Jones had been bathing late at night, while the girlfriends were indoors. The builder claimed to have disappeared to find a cigarette, leaving Jones alone in the pool. On his return, he found Jones floating on the water – apparently having drowned while unsupervised. He, Lawson and Wohlin had attempted to revive the musician, but to no avail. It seemed plausible: Jones was an asthmatic, a known drug-user, heavily under the influence of alcohol at the time, and it had been dark. By the end of that week an official verdict of misadventure had been filed. However, the strongly held belief that there had been others at Jones’s ‘party’ and eyewitness allegations from people as diverse as Gary Scott of The Walker Brothers and Jones’s socialite friend Nicholas Fitzgerald, suggested otherwise.

Just before he died in November 1993, Frank Thorogood made this depressing revelation to a shocked Tom Keylock: ‘It was me that did Brian. I just finally snapped – it just happened.’ Belated interviews with two anonymous members of the builder’s team appear to substantiate this confession. Both ‘Marty’ and ‘Joe’ documented the tale of how the group – jealous of Brian Jones’s fame, popularity and, most crucially, his swimming ability – had drunkenly rounded on the ‘fucking ponce’ and forced him under the water. Despite Brian’s pleas, the ‘game’ continued to its tragic conclusion. Both men suggested that it was the scorned Thorogood who had been holding Brian Jones down when he drowned, though it seemed all bore considerable malice towards their employer, this ‘ponce’, a celebrity with a host of attractive women hanging off his every word – forgetting that a) this young man’s wealth had been self-made with no small amount of hard work, and b) it was paying for the lifestyle which they had suddenly co-opted. The evidence may seem damning, but the case has never been reopened and at least one of Jones’s alleged killers remains at large four decades later. (The death of Tom Keylock in 2009 also eliminates a key character witness.) According to his friend. According to his friend Pamela des Barres, Jones had been presented during a trip to Ceylon at the end of 1968 with his astrological chart, which had apparently read: ‘Be careful swimming in the coming year. Don’t go into the water without a friend.’

Jones was buried in Cheltenham on 10 July 1969; only Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts from the band attended his funeral. Two days later, 250,000 fans showed up at The Rolling Stones’ free concert at Hyde Park – rebilled in tribute to their former guitarist.

‘The sadness of his dying is somehow not so bad as the sadness of seeing him trying to live.’

Shirley Arnold, The Rolling Stones’ secretary.

Sunday 20

Roy Hamilton

(Leesburg, Georgia, 16 April 1929)

The Searchlight Gospel Singers

Although little spoken of nowadays, the distinctive soul/doo-wop voice of Roy Hamilton graced many Epic and Columbia releases during the fifties and sixties. He was originally a vocalist with The Searchlight Gospel Singers, having practised with his local church choir from the age of six and won several talent contests during his teens. Known as ‘The Golden Boy with the Golden Voice’, Hamilton made his name with such standards as ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, ‘Ebb Tide’ and ‘Unchained Melody’, recording some eighty songs in a short career. At one point he was a close friend of Elvis Presley, who, according to some, emulated his vocal style.

Hamilton’s death has remained something of a mystery: the general consensus seems to be that he died following a stroke, clearly rare for a man under forty. Despite his posthumous induction into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame, Hamilton’s standing in the business had faltered during the late sixties, making suicide also a distinct possibility.

OCTOBER

Wednesday 22 Tommy Edwards

(Richmond, Virginia, 17 February 1922)