AND NOW RON HAS GONE
It’s getting to feel a bit lonely being a British jazz musician of my generation (I was born in 1946).
And I’m not just talking about the need to shield from the pandemic for those designated “vulnerable” like me in government health-speak. I reluctantly decided I ought to pull out of a gig next Sunday lunchtime at Ronnie’s with Simon Spillett which I was really looking forward to.
No. The other problem is losing all my old mates. Not only my soul mate BOBBY WELLINS four (yes four!) years ago but, this year alone, DON WELLER, PETER KING and now my very old friend and musical partner RON MATHEWSON. We have now reached the depressing stage that Dick Pearce is the sole surviving member of the Ronnie Scott quintet and I am the sole survivor of the Tubby Hayes quartet…………………….
Bloody hell! It was always a joke in our circles that Ron was indestructible, that he would outlive us all.
Yes, that Viking Rognvald with the constitution of an ox, despite his slim build, a drinking culture embarked on very young in the Alex Welsh band, a frightening capacity for “raving” after hours with jazz cigarettes, a continuous disregard for the need to eat regularly, no physical exercise apart from playing the bass and, towards the end of his life, two broken hips, irritable bowel syndrome, lung scarring and agoraphobia which kept him imprisoned in that same flat that he had lived in since the 1960s.
For more details about that famous ground floor flat where we all hung out, scroll down to “earlier” musings and click on the one posted on December 10th 2018 entitled 80 Sinclair Rd. WI4.
Last night, feeling a bit sentimental, I dug out my bootleg copy of a 25 minute Scottish television film about the young Ron Mathewson made in 1969, entitled “Everything’s cool”.
It was skilfully edited and balanced scenes from the Shetlands where he grew up with up to the minute shots of the Tubby Hayes quartet rehearsing at Ronnie’s. God, how young and healthy we all looked!
It was funny to see his living room at that point in his life, with Christmas cards from Earl “Fatha” Hines prominently displayed on the mantelpiece.
And I experienced a special frisson when they filmed him in his bathroom which was situated exactly above the room in the basement where I slept. Memories flooded back of sleepless nights when I would lie there waiting for Ron to stagger back from wherever and begin pacing up and down, up and down, backwards and forwards between bathroom, living room, bedroom and little fire-hazard kitchenette wedged directly under a wooden staircase! How 80 Sinclair Rd didn’t burn down I’ll never know…………………
As you can see, this is no kind of objective, biographical obituary. It is just a personal reminiscence tinged with sadness and disbelief.
There is another “earlier” musing which I would invite you to revisit at this point. Scroll down again and click on the one posted on August 12th 2019 and entitled I love a piano #3: “Freeman ‘Ardy ‘n’Wills”.
This was the nickname bestowed by Phil Seamen on the trio of MICK PYNE piano, RON on bass and myself on drums. This trio served as the rhythm section of the Tubby Hayes quartet and the Ronnie Scott sextet (with Kenny Wheeler and Ray Warleigh) and accompanied first Roland Kirk and then Stan Getz on tours.
with Stan Getz at the Montmartre in Copenhagen 1970
Playing regularly with Mick and Ron was really the greatest musical experience of my life and the context in which I felt most at ease and inspired. Happily, we were able to work occasionally just as a trio.
One memorable week at Ronnie Scott’s (in January 1990) stands out. We saw it as a precious opportunity to express ourselves. Mick wrote me a beautiful letter of thanks afterwards which I treasure and Ron was so excited about the engagement that he swore he would go on the wagon and drink only black coffee for the whole week so that we could be at our sharpest. He was as good as his word!
Five years ago, Martin Speake conducted an audio interview lasting nearly three hours with Ron in his flat (where else?) and got Ron to speak freely, openly and amusingly. Following Ron’s death, Martin has been kind enough to send me a copy of the recording which I have found fascinating.
I was shocked and humbled to hear Ron volunteer, when asked by Martin which of the countless records with countless artists he had played on was his favourite, that he would choose the album which was issued of some tracks by the trio from those evenings at Ronnie’s. Wow.
I am putting up on the music page this week three performances from that happy time which were not included on the album but which, on listening back to everything that had gone in the can, Mick Pyne described as our “purple patch”. Say no more.