Hi everybody, this is John Blackstone. Thank you for joining me for another episode and another interview today’s interview is with a gentleman named Stuart EPS who I’m sure is no stranger to anyone who is as big a fan of British music as I am. Stuart is one of those guys who was right at the very beginning of Elton John’s career. Not only that, but he was working for Dick James Music, which means he was mingling with the Beatles and just part of that whole amazing scene that was happening in London at that time in the late 60s. He then went on to travel with Elton as his personal assistant, and incredibly, he was there when John Lennon performed with the Elton John band in New York City in 1974. Stuart went on to work with Jimmy Page, Bill Wyman from the Rolling Stones, Paul Rogers from Bad Company, tons of the British music royalty, and having a conversation with him was like opening a treasure chest. So here we go, my interview with Stuart EPS.
One of the first things I wanted to say is I enjoyed the stuff that you wrote about Elton’s early days. I have to tell you, I’ve read pretty much everything that’s out there about those days in his career. It was all of the kind of information that I was looking for that I never found anywhere else. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciated that. I really enjoyed it. They were just great times. It’s just how it happened. It’s just what it was all about really. Elton was unknown when I met him. It’s different, obviously, when people hear about these stories with him being now this famous guy, but at the time, it was just we were all youngsters, getting into it, having fun. Well, most of us were. I don’t know whether Elton was having fun or not. It’s possible he wasn’t having as much fun as we were.
Am I correct that at Dick James Music, you met, and then you guys kind of started hanging and listening to music together and that kind of thing? Is that how it went? I started work at DJM (Dick James Music) in 1967 from school. I was 15, you know? I was the office boy, that’s what I started as. I really only was working there because of Clive, who I’d been in bands with. I went to school with, and then he got to work at Dick James, probably about a year before me starting work at Dick James Music. 15 years old, the office boy, there was plenty for me to do. I was the lowest of the low. So I’m cleaning out coffee machines, you know, getting sandwiches, doing everything really. At the same time, I started to meet these people. There was Caleb, there was Elton, there were quite a few other songwriters, crazy people. We’re talking about 1967 in London, you know. It was a time when people were freaking out. Mind you, you look a bit freaky yourself, so you’d have fitted in. I don’t know about the bowler hat, but you know, you’d have fitted in quite well there.
It was hippie times, but I wasn’t a hippie. I was from North London, you know, a lower middle-class family, and they were very strange people that I was meeting. But I just took it, you know, I took it in my stride, really. I mean, I’m working for the Beatles’ music publisher. I’m going around to Paul McCartney’s house. It was a hierarchical place, you know. It was quite strictly run in a way, even though you had all these madmen involved, you know. So I used to be able to go into The Cutting Room where Clive was cutting demo discs. I was just wide-eyed, wide-eyed and laughing. That’s a Beatles’ song, isn’t it? Yeah, wide-eyed to what was going on and taking it all in. Clive went in the studio as assistant engineer. I became disc cutter, cutting demos that have been cut in the studio, Elton’s demos, piano demos. This was an amazing time for me. In The Cutting Room, we first got the Beatles White Album before anyone else. I was cutting records for the Beatles, you know, and that was the beginning.
When did you actually jump into the world of engineering? When did you start setting up mics, bringing up sounds? When did you jump into that part of your career? I went from disc cutter, which I did for quite a long time. It might have been a year. A year was a long time then. A lot happened. Frank Owen was the engineer. He left the demo studio, so Clive then became the engineer, and I became his assistant. Of course, that was amazing. He’s teaching me, and I’m sitting there because, in those days, a tape operator was operating the tape machine, so pushing the but it was still a learning process for me. Clive was always one step ahead. It’s a bit of a milestone in Elton’s career as well because when I was a disc cutter, a guy started working for Dick James called Steven Brown. Elton reg, you know, he was reg in those days. He said, “Oh, this guy Steve started; he wants to hear the album that we’ve made, the album that Elton made with Caleb watching the planes go by, Turn to Me, Regimental Sergeant Zippo, if you know those tracks. This is the album that was never released anyway.”
So Steve comes into the control room. There was only Bernie and Reg (Elton) in the room. I put the tape on, and Steve, a proper hippie—this guy, I mean, he’s got, well, actually, you look a bit like him, you could be him, long, long black hair, mustache. Yeah, I think it, yeah, maybe you are him. But, um, play his part in the movie if they ever make a good one. Seemed like a nice guy, kind of quiet guy. Anyway, I played the whole album, you know, it’s, it was a two 10-inch reels, so it was, uh, it was a lot of stuff, and then they left, and I found out afterward that Steve didn’t think much of it, you know. And I thought, “What a cheek,” you know, who, who the hell is this guy, you know? How dare he say he doesn’t like this album? This was our, this was, we loved this album, you know, and we loved the sound, the production, everything was brilliant on it. But apparently, you know, you find out afterward that Reg and Bernie actually got on with this guy quite well. He didn’t like that, but he suggested to Elton that, you know, maybe he’s got some better songs. Steve produced a single with Elton called “Lady Samantha,” which was totally brilliant. It was the best thing that Elton had done up until then. It had Caleb on it. It was a great record. Clive engineered it, so our estimation of Steve went up, you know. Sure, this, this, this guy is now really doing great stuff.
He started working on the Empty Sky album, so one way or another after hearing Elton songs, and I’m into songs, you know, I was an artist, you know, I was in bands and all that myself. So it was great that I was now in the studio with Clive. To be honest, I had my sights set on being in the music business more. I don’t know how long, but I didn’t stay in the studio very long at all with Clive, and I started what they call plugging. So I started working for Dick James Music as a plugger, and that means going around the BBC. And, to be honest, it also means getting drunk at midday, and I didn’t really take to that. I was still only 17 or something. And I started getting more friendly with Steve to the point where I became his assistant, you see. Time was just ridiculously quick in those days, and suddenly I’m working with Steve Brown, and then we formed DJM. Steve had this idea to form a record label. So when DJM was formed, I now am fully Steve Brown’s assistant running the record label, and that had everything to do with Elton, Hookfoot, Philip Gante. We had some other artists on that label. I was organizing the DJM launch where Elton played live, and then all this started happening.
Elton got the chance to go and play in America and got the chance to go to the Trador. And I wasn’t asked to go on that; I had to stay back in the office. But Steve went to the Trador with Elton and Dee and Nigel, and, you know, it just went berserk. They loved him. There [Music] years about halfway through the set I said, “Wow, this is going all the way.” Going all the way, ’cause up until then, you know, Elton had not been going down well in the clubs and in the universities. People were just ignoring him, really. And people were also ignoring him in the music press; you know, he was getting good reviews for The Empty Sky album, but, um, you know, it wasn’t really going fast, to be honest. So America was now the place where it was happening, and everything just started to take off.
I ended up going with Elton on the next tour, and I was still only 18 when I turned up at the airport to look after Elton on a three-month tour of America. Was that tour the 71 tour or was it the Honky Chateau tour? The 1972 tour that you talk about. It was probably ’71, I would think. It was the one where we did Kaniki Hall. Anyway, there is one story that you tell that is so funny about the 1972 tour when Davey had joined the band, and they were promoting Honky Chateau. Legs Larry Smith went on tour with Elton, and he would come out for one song, right?
Myself on the stage [Music] [Applause]. That song was called “I think I’m going to kill myself,” and in these shoes, I got a pretty good chance, I’d say. Your stories about the explosives that you dealt with, yeah, with the magic wand, yes, it was a crazy, uh, the thing is that, um, well, I was on two tours with Elon. We played the Fillmore East. That would have been the first tour as well. That was also the night that Elton thought someone shot him. Someone gave him a bottle of champagne, and he took it back to the hotel, and it wasn’t tied down properly, and it went off in the night, and he called me ’cause he thought he’d been shot. But the thing is that we were like kids really, you know. I’d never stayed in a Holiday Inn. I’d never seen beds that big before, you know. I mean, we were living this life of what I thought was unbelievable luxury, you know, breakfast in the morning and loving America. I mean, that’s the main thing. And that’s the main reason why I think Elton took off so hugely because he loved America, he loved being there. So it wasn’t a big chore for him to do a three-month tour. It was like the best thing that ever happened in his life. Sure, I mean, I’m sure there were times when he had personal problems, I don’t know. But it was all great fun, it was all wonderful, and of course it was also incredibly good for Elton’s career. It’s all taking off, you know, all the albums started entering the charts, and it’s all because of America really, all because of Americans like you.
It’s similar to The Beatles, you know, when they came to America, they had such a love for American music, but it was this Mutual admiration Society because when the British came here with the Beatles, you basically dominated music for, you know, 10, 15 years. I mean, all of my favorite artists are all British artists by far. I don’t know what was in the water over there at the time, but man, the music that has come out of England from, you know, ’64 on is that’s how we felt about American music ’cause Elton was like a big fan of um, by a total fan of music, and that him and Caleb used to go and get these um, American Imports, and they always sounded better. They were always louder. So that’s the thing; we were digging American music, and America was digging what was happening in the UK, and it was brilliant.
Most people that are in the music industry have an epiphany moment or a moment where it just kind of hits them, “I have to do this, I have to be involved in this.” Did you have a moment like that that you recall? The only moment that I’ve had like that was not in the early days; it was when we ended up in Hawaii on the Elton Kiki tour. I’d fallen in love actually with a woman who lived in an ice cream van, and anyway, I thought, I’m going to retire, you know. I’ve done it all; I’ve had enough. I’m getting old, you know. I was 23 now, it’s time to rest, you know. So, I went to see Gus, who was working at Rockfield with a band called Solution, actually, on the rocket label, to tell him that I was leaving. ‘Cause actually, I was now working with John Reed; Steve Brown had left, and it wasn’t good; he was getting on my nerves. He was terrible; he’s awful. He’s terrible, and Gus said, “Well, that’s a shame you’re leaving.” But that’s when he told me about he was going to build the mill; he was going to build the studio, you see. So I’ve never seen it as an epiphany moment, but was because I instantly knew that I wanted to do that and not move to Hawaii and live in an ice cream van. Although it sounded great, anything Gus did was bound to be top class; that was an epiphany moment.
It probably was a very good idea because that led to me being involved in the mill, working with Jimmy Page in the end, and Led Apple. As soon as we put the mill together, I got back into what I always loved, which was being part of making music. Really, in the early days, there weren’t any epiphany moments. You just did it. There was nothing to think about; you just did it because you loved it. I was just very lucky. You went from one thing to another. It was only in later years, to be honest, that you start thinking about needing to make some money or money became important, or position became important. We never had a thought for that. I don’t think Elton did either, as much as he loves to spend. You know he’s become a billionaire. People say that now, that you want to get into music to make money or something, and you say, “Well, good luck.” But that’s not why we ever did it.
That’s one of the beautiful things about your essay that you wrote. You very much captured that innocence in the way that you wrote those stories of you guys being on the road, and it’s just so rich. It reminds me of a time when the music industry became the mega beast that it is now. There was a time when an artist, to become successful, had to go and do the work and had to have that kind of passion. It wasn’t American Idol. That’s exactly right. You’re absolutely right, John. Kids watch this on the TV now, and they see someone coming in, and within like weeks, they become a superstar, and they think, “Well, that was easy. I can do that.”
The connection with, I mean, although we all believed in him, the main person that mattered was him believing in himself and pushing himself to the limits that he did. On top of being the most talented musician you can imagine, you know, and together with Bernie, that incredible relationship that doesn’t happen very often. It’s similar to The Beatles thing when you think about how the Beatles ended up with George Martin and had such great management. Well, I mean, from my point of view, the Beatles’ story is way up here somewhere. Yes, that story is so unbelievable. All the dynamics involved, you know, you got four people, and like you say, the luck of those guys meeting up with George Martin and ending up at the best studio on the planet.
Yeah, I mean, you know, for free, amazing. That’s what made me become a musician, was just discovering the Beatles, as it is for a lot of people. But their story has so much magic and synchronicity in it. It’s just like everything just fell perfectly in line. But they had to do the work. That’s kind of how I see Elton’s career as well. He did the work, and he had the talent, the creativity. Do you remember when the light bulb went on for you as far as Elton, like understanding, “Oh, this guy is talented”? That was from the very first moment he sat at the piano and played me a song. Well, I was 15 years old. Clive would play the piano; I would sing from when we were about 13 or 14.
But it was the first time I’d been in a studio where a grown man, as he’s that much older than me, sat down at the piano and played a song that I’d never heard before. For a start, that was an epiphany moment. That was when I actually thought, “This bloke is brilliant. He’s a lot better than I’ll ever be. I can’t; I’m never going to be like that. I don’t write songs like that.” When you’re in that proximity, let alone when you see him in a gig, but if you just sat in a room, and he’s there and he’s playing the piano and singing, he sets up an atmosphere. That’s what he does, you know, even if he’s not dressed as Mickey Mouse or something, you know. If he’s just in normal clothes, what he does there is why he’s a superstar because he performs. I’d never seen this before. That was when I decided I want to be with this guy. I want to see him do it. I want to get involved in his career, is basically what I thought.
When you listen to something magical, like when you listen to The Beatles’ White Album or something, you know, when you listen to something magical, like James Taylor, or I don’t know, whatever you’re into, that atmosphere that happens, where you get tingles and all that, it wasn’t like, “Blimey, I could make some money here or something.” Or I could be his manager, which is probably what I should have done, to be honest.
I never really think of it as an epiphany moment. I have to sort of think about how to pronounce that word, but it’s a good thought because they do happen. The other epiphany was when, obviously, at Madison Square Gardens. It wasn’t an epiphany moment in my career, but it was an epiphany moment for all of us that were there. Yes, to see, you know, to be hanging out with John Lennon and to see him himself backstage and to be with him when he walked up those stairs, and then to be there as this 10,000 people went bananas for John Lennon, and you were there to see it. It’s unbelievable. I would say that that show is in the top five most important gigs in pop music history. I would put that there easily. That’s what people tend to say, and any of us that were there would say that’s about right because it was an incredible night when we had John Lennon, and we’re all backstage at Madison Square.
I was such a potty Beatles fan; I was just following him around everywhere. Yes, and I ended up in his dressing room, and at the time, he was with May Pang. You see, and there was only the three of us. I definitely know that. And there was a knock on the door. So as the sort of management person, I went to open the door. I opened the door, and there’s Yoko Ono standing there. I went, “Oh my God. I felt that he’s with another woman. He’s obviously with Yoko, and now she’s found out he’s with someone else, and I’ve opened the door, and there’s going to be some almighty argument that I’m going to be involved in here.” Anyway, but behind Yoko was Elton’s mate, Tony King. Tony King, you’re right, yeah, it was Tony King. Anyway, he was giving it the thumbs up. She came in, and apparently it was that night where John and Yoko got back together again.
Who was to know that she was responsible for putting John and May Pang together, who was her assistant or secretary or something? I was still hanging on to, well, I wasn’t hanging on to John, but I was following him. Elton was already on stage, going down a storm, and I was walking with John, and I definitely remember the stairs at the back of Madison Square. When he started to go up the stairs, he was nervous, you know, and he said something like, “Oh, here we go, over the hill,” as if he was going to war. That’s what they used to say when they were going to war because it’s a bit like that. You’re going up over the trenches, you know. Sure. As he hit the stage, the place went nuts. They went into white noise. It was louder than normal crowd sound. It was so loud that it actually went into this white noise of sound that seemed to go on forever.
Seeing it’s Thanksgiving, we thought we’d make tonight a little bit of a joyous occasion by inviting someone up with us onto the stage. I’m sure he will be no stranger to anybody in the audience when I say he’s a great privilege, and your great privilege to see and hear Mr. John Lennon. Here we go then. One, two, three, four, whatever gets you through the night. It’s alright. It’s alright. You don’t need flow. And so we all were like, you know, we were, I mean, we knew he was going to go down a storm. I don’t know what was up with him, but then I just sort of ran out to the front so I could see it. When they went into “I Saw Her Standing There” or whatever it was, the whole place, because Madison Square Gardens’ floor is sort of sprung, and I remember worrying because the PA was hanging from the ceiling and was doing this.
At the same time, I was thinking, “This is unbelievable. This is better than any Elton gig I’ve ever seen, the audience is better than any audience I’ve ever seen.” I was also worrying that one of these speakers doesn’t fall down and, you know, kill a load of people, but Gus Dudgeon was backstage recording it. He was in a truck somewhere, thank God he was recording it. It was an amazing night. So, I mean, it’s nice when you hear Elton talk about it. He said it was his best gig as well ever, although I think he might have just surpassed that with this latest gig at Glastonbury. Well done, Glastonbury. Yeah, I should think that now takes precedence as his best gig ever.
It’s the only time I think I’ve ever watched Elton’s whole gig. I couldn’t watch a whole show. You know, and I never sat in the audience. I was always backstage or running about, but I watched the whole gig. To see 100,000 or 120,000 people digging Elton, it still gives me a thrill. It’s still like I remember when there were just 20 people all chatting instead of listening. So I still get a big kick out of seeing how amazingly he goes down.
When you just said that, you know, 20 people watching, it reminded me of something that you wrote about. When Elton was playing a show, and people were sitting around talking, you felt compelled, or maybe you actually did go around and tell people to like shut up and listen.
Yeah, you know, the thing is that when we were promoting Elton, we were so excited about what he was doing and what we were doing with him. We wanted to share it with everyone. So it’s not just family and friends. If you were in a taxi and suddenly he came on the radio, you’d go, “Wow, can you just turn this up a sec?” You know, they’d go, “Well, no, this is he’s going to be big, this guy.” What’s his name? Oh, Elton John. Never heard of him. Funny name, especially in America where a John is a toilet. They call it “Elton toilet.” That’s a good name.
There’s a TV soap program called Coronation Street. It’s been going for about 50 years. I distinctly remember that there was a party in one of the houses, and they were playing an Elton song. I was ringing up Steve, “Steve, turn your TV on. They’re playing Elton on Coronation Street.” Anything that happened in those days was news, and we all used to ring each other up.
It was a great team, and there was a lot of camaraderie or whatever the word is. I don’t know whether there’s so much of that now.
“We’d like to do one of Bernie’s best-ever lyrics. It’s really beautiful, and it features Paul Buckmaster on solo cello. The number is called ‘The Greatest Discovery.'”
“I’d like to introduce on bass guitar, Dee Murray, and on drums, Nigel. I’ve got the biggest kit in the world, Olsson, and my new band, and we’re going to do a number called ‘Burn Down the Mission.’ Thank you very much.”
The original team that made those early albums used to have meetings about the recording sessions. It was an incredible, incredible team. I try to say that to youngsters now who generally only work on their own. They don’t even have bands anymore, all these solo artists, whether they’re young girls or young guys, sitting in front of a TV screen trying to be great. Like in the old days, the best music was made in teams of people. Sometimes they were called bands. Yes, I know it sounds like old fogies talking, but I don’t see how you can refute it. When you see that film of the Beatles working together and you see how John and Paul fed off each other and worked together, that was the genius that made that music.
Let me down, and that music’s lasted 60 years, not six weeks or a year or two. It’s 60 years, and it still sounds amazing. It still influences writers and musicians. They’re still trying to figure it out. That’s right. You know, how did they do it? The way they did it was because there were two of them or three of them or four of them, and they were arguing and shouting. They got together, four guys ripping each other to pieces, and then trying to outdo each other. That’s how the greatness was made, really. I think it’s very difficult for a single person to pull that off.
As a producer myself, I used to do a lot of work in Seattle producing artists, and what you just described has been my experience exactly. There are all these people that don’t even understand the importance of a producer anymore, much less an engineer. They’re sitting in their rooms, as you described, staring at a screen. It’s almost been heartbreaking for me because I love working with artists like you do. I love producing. Sometimes I’ll go to clubs and find somebody I really like, and I’ll say, “Hey, you know, I’d love to work with you.” They just don’t understand it.
I get both scenarios. I get people that don’t understand it, don’t even think it’s necessary. And then I still get youngsters, like a 14-year-old girl whose mother brought her in. They do appreciate being in the studio environment and the experience that I can bring to it. I get those as well as the ones where they don’t see it or they prefer to. It’s mainly the girls, actually, to be honest, they think they can do it better and want to do something that’s never been done before. So you don’t want to work with someone who’s been doing it for 50 years because that’ll be old-fashioned.
The thing is, we grew up with artists who based their music and their careers on what went before, on blues music and jazz that happened before. They loved the music that went before them and then wanted to build on that. That’s where the great music came from.
One thing that you said a minute ago really resonates with me, and that is the longevity of music that came from that period, like 1964 to the late 70s. There’s a period of music that I firmly believe, including Elton’s catalog, will be listened to and celebrated centuries from now. I’m convinced of that. One of the reasons I’m convinced of it is because of what you described at the Glastonbury show. There aren’t hundreds of thousands of people going to see some 80s artist or some 90s artist. A lot of that music that has come out since the 70s is basically going to fade into memory.
But the really great stuff, mainly because of the amazing songs that were written, that stuff’s going to last for centuries. When McCartney plays, or the Stones play, or Elton plays, packed auditoriums, massive arenas packed, and they’re all ages. Whenever I went to an Elton gig, there’s like kids in the audience. It’s like, what are they doing here? When you were saying that period, 1964 to 1975, it also reminds you of classical music in a way, how classical music has stood the test of time.
When you hear a Beatle song, it doesn’t seem to have the same time element stuck on it. You know, it just seems timeless. I suppose that’s the thing. The same goes for Johnny Mitchell for me, and James Taylor, Stephen Stills, Nash, Jackson Browne, yes, people from Cat Stevens. It was an incredible period of singer-songwriters. The Beatles hit such a Mount Everest of achievement. It’s almost like when they broke up, all of those early singer-songwriters took the gauntlet. It’s like, “Now we’re going to do what they did. We’re going to write these amazing songs, and we’re going to compete.”
Because the Beatles were one of the first to write their songs. Up until that point, people were writing for others. The singer-songwriter period came after the Beatles. You’re right, and I’m sure you’re right. We won’t be listening to that music in 100 years’ time, and maybe not George Michael or Michael Jackson. It’s music that was made in a particular time period, which almost seems to have passed. It doesn’t seem to stand up in the same way because it’s stuck in that era.
One of the things that makes that music timeless is that it’s real human beings in a room playing music together. When you hear those records like the Beatles’ records, there’s a vibrancy and a resonating quality that you cannot emulate with technology. It has to be a real human experience. That’s something lost now, not completely, but there’s a magic in the recording studio’s dynamic with the engineer, producer, and the band playing live together.
The magic of the recording studio and the atmosphere created with musical instruments and doing it live. When I was working with Jimmy Page and Paul Rodgers, we were working in that old-fashioned way. I had them playing live together in the studio, giving themselves completely to it, creating the magic performance. That still happens occasionally. The singer-songwriter period followed the Beatles, and I used to love mixing Elton’s track called “Crazy Water,” where the tempo would change throughout, creating an increased intensity.
The click track became the standard in recording studios, making everything linear. There’s no vibrancy, no interaction, and a loss of the magic that came with real human experiences. The click was introduced to help those who weren’t great musicians, but it took away the feel and groove that came from live, non-metronomic recordings. Playing without a click required tight musicians, and the difference lay in the feel and atmosphere. The old records have a certain magic.
Music nowadays is almost frightening to do without a click, but it’s a challenge to break free from the metronomic structure. The click track has made music more sterile. Tuning also contributed to this by making everything perfectly in tune, leaving the singer as the only element needing tuning. Tuning has made music somewhat sterile compared to the old days when everything was tuned to the piano, creating a bit more warmth and human touch.
I was going to ask you to talk about your experiences in the Mill. Gus opened the Mill, and then he ended up selling it to Jimmy Page. Then you started working with Jimmy Page. One of the first projects you did there, was that when you put “Coda” together, the Led Zeppelin album “Coda”? Gus ran into financial problems and had to sell the Mill. There’s a lot of mystery behind it. Jimmy Page turned up, and that’s when we first met him. He was very quiet and shy. We found out that he wanted to buy the studio and keep me on, which I was happy with. I wasn’t the biggest Led Zeppelin fan, but they were a famous band.
After I started working with Jimmy, I found out what a kind of strange and eccentric guy he was. I didn’t meet him for a couple of months, even though he bought the studio. We assumed we’d be doing the next Zeppelin album, but then there was terrible news that John Bonham was found dead at Jimmy’s house. We thought they’d get a new drummer, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. The Zeppelin tapes started arriving, and we decided to put together a tribute album to John Bonham. The first project was mixing “Bonzo’s Montreux,” which was challenging.
Working with Jimmy Page, I discovered how unique and eccentric he was. The lack of a click track and the real human experience created a special atmosphere that’s missing in modern music. Recording without a click required skilled musicians, but it added a unique feel and groove to the music. With the introduction of the click track, music became more sterile and less exciting. We discussed tuning, and how it made the music less organic.
The click track became the standard, and its precision made music more clinical. However, Jimmy Page was one of the most skilled and creative producers. He worked with various artists and explored unique sounds and production ideas. I learned a lot from him, and it was a fantastic period of my career. Working with Jimmy Page opened the door to working with other artists, like Paul Rodgers, and it was an incredible time. Working with Jimmy was sometimes challenging, but it was a valuable experience.
The discussion shifts to the production of Elton John’s albums. There is mention of working with Elton John, Gus Dudgeon, and how Elton John’s sound was transformed. The conversation touches upon the complexities of producing and the challenges of Gus pushing the boundaries of production. The production of the “Ice on Fire” album is discussed, and it’s revealed that not all experiments led to successful results. They talk about the uniqueness of Gus’s productions, especially when they pushed the limits.
The conversation mentions other remarkable people Stuart worked with, such as George Harrison, Bill Wyman, and Paul McCartney. There were memorable studio sessions, but it’s hard to pick one standout moment. The discussion also delves into technical aspects of recording and explains DI (Direct Injection) in guitar recording. The interview ends with gratitude and farewells.