Chas Chandler - Should he be made a saint?

July 5^th – It must have been one of those ‘eureka’ moments, I figure. Like sifting through all the dross and wannabe’s (and there’s plenty, believe me, you only have to watch five minutes of X-Factor or Britain/America/Singapore/name your country here Got Talent or, alternatively, 30 seconds of Slebritee Big Bruvva to realise the fact of that) sifting through all the dross and suddenly happening on a diamond (in the rough, maybe, but a jewel all the same).

There’s a lot of things I’ll not realise in my life. I’ll never be the opening bowler for England in an Ashes Test, play drums for AC/DC or meet a politician I can trust, but there are a few things that, even if I’m not the discoverer, still, I can share in the fruits of the discovery. I feel that way about much in my musical experience. Having shared a stage, albeit from the support band position, with some of the finest bands or performers in the 60’s/70’s music business, I feel very fortunate to have been in such a position, to be so close as to be able to, for want of a better word, discover their unique talent for myself, and yet the discovery made by Chas Chandler on this day in 1966 (and how that discovery affected me) makes everything else pale into insignificance.

If it hadn't been for Linda Keith, Chandler may never have gone to the Café Wha? this July night in 1966; by such small coincidences does greatness emerge. Of Ms. Keith being an ex-girlfriend of Keith Richard and so having an understanding of the biz and what it takes to get folk noticed. Of Mr. Chandler being in New York at that particular time on The Animals final tour. Of Mr. Chandler, realising the band (The Animals) would split after the tour and whilst looking around for what to do next, homing in on maybe promoting other bands and musicians. And of Jimi Hendrix, being championed by Ms. Keith, who got Mr. Chandler to go along to the Café Wha?, and of Mr. Hendrix happy to take any gig he could to make ends meet, and of him being on his uppers at the time of the meeting and homeless too, and so willing to take a punt at coming to England with Mr. Chandler on a whim…

That’s it really, ‘cept to say that I am eternally grateful to Mr. Chandler (18^th Dec. 1938 – 17^th July 1996 – God rest him) for introducing me to the three greatest discoveries in all of my musical education: 1) that you don’t need wings to soar, 2) don’t need religion to free your soul or 3) that you don’t need a view to appreciate beauty. Music played by the right person will do all that and more for you, and oftentimes you’ll not have to lift a finger to receive it but just have the courage to let it in.

Mind you, Mr. Chandler did go on to manage Slade so he didn't get everything right…but he’s forgiven…and how.