Nicky Moore: Retired but not tired

Nicky Moore has done hundreds of interviews during his long career. So what’s the reason for another one may ask some of you? Well, it’s never enough of his stories about Hackensack, Samson, Big Jim Sullivan and other bands he sang with. Now, when Nicky is retired from music, it’s also great to let him know that there are people who still love his amazing voice and appreciate his achievements. So turn on some album from Nicky’s huge back catalogue (jazz, blues, rock, metal — he sang them all, so you’ll definitely find something for your taste!) and dig into his stories!  

Hello Nicky! How you’ve been doing? I hope this Covid disease has passed you by…

I’m good thanks, hope you are too! I did manage to catch a bout of it during the summer, but luckily managed to come out of it ok.

Glad to hear it! Let’s run through your music career! You learned singing in a church choir. How did you get there? Was it a joyful experience or was your teacher a savage?

I got to go to Exeter Cathedral Chorister School on a scholarship — it wasn’t something my family could afford but my Dad was never one to turn down a freebie. There was a lot of things I hated about that school, in the way these stuffy old boring institutions were in England in the 50s, but my music teacher and choir master was a man by the name of Lionel Dakers, a giant in church music. I could already sing but he was the man who made me fall in love with music — he seemed like a glitch in that place — he loved music and it would inspire an excitable chaos in him that had me from the word go. That whole place seemed to run on teachers scaring the shit out of all the children, but Lionel was a rare exception — he inspired and encouraged and praised. I am forever in his debt.

Did you leave your hometown Devon to pursue musical career or did you want to study at some college and sing in a band if you had a chance?

I knew I wanted to be in a band by that point. I wanted to get away from Teignmouth, where I lived in Devon. It was great fun during the summer, during the holiday season, but by the time winter came and everything shut down, it was dull as shit. And I really wanted to move out. My Dad and I didn’t have the best relationship by that point, so I was happy to get my independence. Stupidly, I went and joined the RAF. I’d heard they had a great music scene in the RAF — and they did, I joined many bands and played with many musicians — but, if authority pisses you off, the regimented world of the RAF isn’t going to be your home. I had a great time, but I got into a lot of trouble.

Let’s get back to the Swinging London in the late 60’s. You were in your teenage years, so you probably saw everything and were a part of those events. What is your favorite story about those days?

There were many too filthy to tell. One (clean) story that I can tell is an audition I did. This was before I joined Gas Avenue (that later became Hackensack). I was auditioning a lot for all sorts of different bands. I walked into one to be greeted by a man in big bottletop glasses and massive woolly jumper. The only instrument the band had was a church organ. The guy introduced me to his sister. He started trying (and failing) to rock out on the organ, whilst his sister started dancing in this odd, coquettish, fashion. I laughed a few times whilst I was singing but managed to get through a song, then got out of there as fast as I could.

You also witnessed the birth of so called New Wave of British Heavy Metal a decade later. Did you feel that something was going on the London scene when bands like Samson, Angel Witch and Samson started to appear?

To be honest, it didn’t feel like it until later. It felt like some great new bands were appearing on the scene but it wasn’t until the press started lumping them all together that I really noticed it.

Who came up with the idea to call the band Hackensack after a town in New Jersey? Or did you mean Delaware Indian people?

I was too dumb to have any idea about any of that. We were looking for a new band name to coincide with a slight change in line-up. We were drunk one night and listening to a Thelonious Monk album, when the track “Hackensack” came on and Stew, our bassist, slurred “What about this for a name?” Years later, I was getting into a hotel lift in Switzerland, the night before a gig on one of our first European tours. An American lady got into the lift and told me she recognized me, as she was a fan of the band. She told me there was an expression in the U.S.: “I wasn’t born yesterday, I don’t come from Hackensack”. I didn’t learn about the town till then but it seemed appropriate.

“Up the Hard Way”, Hackensack’s debut album, was recorded in De Lane Lea Studios with Derek Lawrence who made his name working with Deep Purple and Wishbone Ash. Did he try to push you in the direction of these bands or did he help you to develop your own style?

In our first meeting with Derek, I remember being so impressed with him. Because of his track record but also because his big cowboy hat and expensive jacket made him look every inch a big music producer. The first time I met him, he asked me what I wanted him to do. “Make me a star”, I replied. What an idiot thing to say. Even then I knew I was a bit of a dick. I was so impressed with him, every time I’d hear playback of our tracks, I thought it must just be a rough, that the sound would all be sorted in the final mix. When I heard it, I was livid. The whole band was. We hated it. It took all the guts out of our tunes. We were a heavy, energetic band and he’d caught none of that in the record. We were so disappointed, we broke up not long after, all our enthusiasm for the band gone. Thanks to Derek. God I wanted to punch that guy in the chops.

You were the first singer of Back Street Crawler and worked with Paul Kossoff for a while but quit because Paul was on drugs. Did you start writing and recording with Paul? And what comes to your mind when you think of Paul these days?

Hackensack’s first single was on Island, so Paul and I got to know each other as label mates. We got on like the proverbial house on fire. And that guy was a talent. I was excited when we decided to work together but the band were really into heroin by then. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t averse to indulging in a few substances in those days, but heroin isn’t good for writing in a group. They were out of it. We wrote a couple of tunes but it was torturously slow and boring to do, so I left. Which was a real shame. Paul could make a guitar sing and he was one of the nicest guys I’d ever met but I didn’t want anything getting in the way of the music.

How did you meet Big Jim Sullivan?

When the work with Paul fell apart, I needed to find some work quickly — I had a young family to support. I got offered the chance to session, where I met Jim — the king of the session musicians — and we instantly fell in brotherly love. We made each other laugh a lot. I think word went around that we not only had the talent, but we were fun to work with and we started getting booked together a lot. It wasn’t long after that Jim asked me if I’d be interested on working with him on a new project.

What was it like to work with Big Jim? Was it an equal partnership or was he the main man and songwriter in the band?

Working with Jim was great — as I said, we always had a laugh together and were good friends. It was an equal trio in Tiger — Jim, Les (Walker) and I all shared songwriting duties. We’d either bring an idea to the table we then all worked up into a song or, we’d get smashed on booze (and sometimes other substances), click record and see what came out, working it into a proper song later. Once we had the tracks down in demo form, we’d run them past EMI — once we got the greenlight from the suits, we’d pull together the supporting band and head out to a studio.

Tiger were a very versatile band and had a lot of psychedelic elements. Was it something you were looking for at the time or was it a kind of a challenge for you as a singer, an opportunity to try something new? Was it OK for you to share vocals with Les Walker?

It was Jim’s original idea that he wanted to start a fusion band with me and Les. I instantly loved the idea. I didn’t really find it more of a challenge as a singer, but it improved my songwriting massively, which was great. And Les was a great vocalist and became a great friend, so I was happy sharing vocals – more importantly, it worked for Tiger. I’m a fat bastard, but if there’s one thing bigger than my belly, it's my ego. But if it works for the music, I’m all in.

Tiger had deals with major labels, played at the Reading Festival, so why didn’t the band take off?

I really thought Tiger was going to be the one to break big. Even EMI did, right up until hearing the final mix of the third album. You can never really tell with these things, but my own take is that the fusion element made us hard to categorise, so no-one could say exactly what we were — jazz, rock, psychedelic whatever. In those days, they wanted you to fit into neat little boxes. I guess it made us hard to market.

“Test of Time” was recorded in 1977 by the same musicians so why did you put it out as The Big Jim Sullivan Band? And why was it released only in 1983?

Not our choice. When we finished recording the demos, the EMI suits were so happy with it, they told us we could get on with recording it uninterrupted. When we sat in the meeting to play them the final mix, their response was “What the fuck do you expect us to do with this?” We couldn’t believe it. We thought it was our best work. We tried to shop it around to other labels, but EMI kept blocking it by quoting a ridiculous price tag for any label to buy it. The decision to release it, packaged with one of Jim’s later albums, wasn’t any of ours. Jim told me as soon as they started talking to him about it, just before it was released. It was kind of good it was getting out there, but by then, I’d moved on.

What’s the story about you punching someone from EMI?

It was the guy who was refusing to release it or let any other label buy it. EMI used to have this Christmas party. We never went, musicians rarely did, it was for all the label staff, but you always got invited. I was getting drunk with friends and, a bottle of Southern Comfort down, I decided it would be a good time to pay him a visit. I thought I was going there just to shout at him. But he gave me a smug grin and a patronising welcome, so I smacked him in the mouth. Not a good idea for my career but, fuck, that felt good.

In the early 80’s you had The Nicky Moore Band and released 2 singles with covers of Boston and Journey. Did you try to conquer American market with that band?

After smacking a lead A & R man in the face, my career went a bit quiet. Eventually, I started playing with a local band in Kent who had no idea who I was. The band built up a bit of a following, and my name started going around the scene again. After releasing “Raining in my Heart” under my own name, the band were signed to a small independent label in the UK. The covers were B-sides; they were just songs that I thought the band would sound great doing. There were no plans for an American release.

If I’m correct, Leigh Highwood and Chris Sharley (who later recorded 2 tracks on Samson’s “Joint Forces”) were in that band, but who else was?

The original band I’d joined in Kent were a great bunch of guys, but they didn’t have it — that star quality — except for Leigh. He was young but a great guitarist. Once my history in music came out and they all learned the truth, I told Leigh we needed to start again. We watched Chris at a gig, then went back to his and got on the booze, and I asked him to come down and play with us. Later, Ian ‘X’ Reay joined us on the keyboards.

As far as I know, you met Paul Samson in 1981 when The Nicky Moore Band supported Samson. I wonder how come you didn’t meet earlier as you played pretty much the same club circuit. What made you to join Samson?

I think we probably did, but I didn’t get to know him until that support slot. I liked most of the guys in the band, but Paul and I really hit it off. We’d hang out together backstage and really made each other laugh. When Bruce left, Paul offered me the job. I took it instantly – I could really see how Paul and I could make some great music and I knew it would be fun.

You co-wrote a lot of songs with Paul which now are classics. How did you work with Paul? Did you bring vocal lines and lyrics to Paul’s songs or did you suggest riffs, too?
It happened in all ways — sometimes Paul had the tunes and I added, sometimes I had a more complete song in my mind and Paul would translate and improve, other times we worked on something from scratch together.

“Young Idea”, the song off Samson’s LP “Before the Storm” was originally written for “Test of Time”. Was Big Jim okay with that you re-recorded this song?

Jim had no problem with it. At that moment, we had no idea that it would be later released as The Big Jim Sullivan band — we thought the album would never see the light of day, so Jim was just happy for it to be out there. Our manager for Tiger, John Glover, wasn’t as keen — maybe because he hoped (rightly) it would one day see the light of day. But, it was agreed we could press forward with it for Samson.

Were you comfortable singing the songs from Bruce Dickinson era?

I never had any worry with that. I’ve got a very different voice to Bruce but you always want to put your own stamp on it. But they were great songs so I was happy singing them.

Is it true that Clive Burr was supposed to play drums on “Joint Forces”? if yes, why didn’t that happen eventually?

I don’t know but I wasn’t aware of it.

During Samson era you worked with producers Pip Williams and Jo Jullian. Who did you like better? Or who understood Samson’s music better?

Jo Jullian — he engineered a lot of stuff before he started with us and really knew his stuff and knew what we were trying to achieve, soundwise.

In one interview you named “Before the Storm” your favourite album of Samson. I’m curious to know why and is still like that?

I liked all our albums, but I just thought “Before the Storm” was a great collection of tunes and really worked together as an album.

I guess “Joint Forces” was the point when you and John McCoy decided to start Mammoth. The band was known for heaving big guys in the line-up. Was it a kind of a concept from the start? By the way, wasn’t offensive that the press concentrated on the weight of the musicians mostly?

It was a fun idea. We purposely did it that way, so we weren’t worried about the press — but we were serious about the music –— and we wrote some great fucking tunes. The fact was, at that time, a lot of the music biz had started to concentrate on looks and we thought it would be great to have a band of big heavy musicians pumping out great tunes. But I’ve always known I’m a big fat bastard, so it didn’t piss me off in that sense.

Mammoth’s music was very radio friendly and commercial in a good way. Was it your intention from the beginning to write some radio hits?

Absolutely. We wanted the band to be big (in more than just body size) so we got ourselves into that mindset – our goal was to write radio hits that were still quality tunes.

I’m a bit confused about your work with Uli Jon Rot. You are credited as a singer on “Beyond the Astral Skies” but did you sing anything on that album beside of “The Night the Master Comes”? And did you tour with Uli after that?

I sung backing vocals on other songs too. I did go on tour with them; to be honest, there was some issue with payment, but also, Uli and I didn’t get on that well, so I exited early.

In 2006 you joined forces with Manny Charlton and the guys of Locomotive Breath in From Behind. How did this idea come about? How did you work on that record as Manny was in the States and the other guys were from Sweden? Why didn’t you keep this collaboration with Manny?

I did a set of Samson songs in tribute to Paul at the 2004 Sweden Rocks festival. I met the Locomotive Breath guys there and we got on and talked about working together at some point. We talked and eventually, I got invited out to write and record with them. Manny had already come on board and we got to work. Manny and I didn’t become the best of friends and we all had other projects on the go, so it just kinda fell apart after “Game Over”.

You’ve released plenty of albums with The Blues Corporation. Which ones were the most pleasant and satisfying to do?

I loved doing all The Blues Corp albums, but I think my favourite was “Hog on a Log”. There were great tunes on that album, we were really tight as a band, and it was a great bunch of guys to be around.

By the way, almost everything from The Blues Corporation is hard to find. Any plans to re-release these albums on CDs or digitally?

I can’t say anything officially, so all I will say is — keep your eyes peeled.

Why haven’t you recorded anything since amazing “Hog on a Log”? Any plans to release any new music in the future?

I actually recorded a duo album with Danny Kyle (guitarist in The Blues Corp) called “The Whale and the Waah” after “Hog on a Log”, but I am now officially retired. But there’s still life left in the music — so, again, keep an eye out for releases in the near future.

Thanks to Dan Cardwell, Nicky’s archivist, for making this interview possible.

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