Interview by Todd Seely

5/1/02

 

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He’s written some of the most beloved songs in hard rock history.  He’s played with some of the most respected names in the music industry.  And he has carved a storied career in rock.  We hooked up with world-renowned bassist Bob Daisley to journey through the past and retrace his musical history – one that has spanned three decades.  The phone rang, and a cheery voice on the other end of the line said “Hi…THIS IS BOB DAISLEY.” 

 

Australia seems a world away, for those of us on this side of the water.  Do you think the prospect of making it in Britain or America seems more daunting to Aussie artists trying to break out?

My personal experience is…my mum’s family was from Britain, but I was born here in Australia.  I went to London in 1971 when I was twenty-one.  It doesn’t really matter where you come from.  I think it’s your attitude, your determination and your ambition that make the difference.  (laughs) Obviously you have to have some talent as well!  Trying to make it in Australia is not so easy, because there’s not so much of a musical scene here.  And it’s frustrating.  It was frustrating for me then, and it’s even frustrating being here now.  I’m not really bothering about the scene here at the moment.  I think the best place in the world for music, at the moment, is America.  Even though the climate, musically, is a bit down from what it can be.  It’s still very good, and it’s still better than a lot of places in the world.  In America there’s a radio station for every type of music, you know.  If you like oldies, heavy rock, metal, country, jazz, pop… whatever.  There’s plenty of music in America.

 

You’ve just got to know where to look for it, sometimes.

That’s true.

 

The earliest Australian rock that may come to many peoples’ minds is the Easybeats song “Friday On My Mind,” or the lightweight pop of Olivia Newton-John.  At the time you decided to leave Australia for England, describe the Australian music scene?

That was sort of the tail end of the 60’s, into the beginning of the 70’s.  It was fairly healthy here.  There were a lot of live acts, and there were a lot of live venues.  There were quite a lot of different types of music, although a lot of chart stuff was still poppy.  I was in a band that was sort of a progressive rock band, fairly heavy.  Those sorts of bands had a following, but they didn’t get much airplay.

 

Were there a lot of groups emulating the Beatles sound?

The poppy stuff here was more like the bubble-gummy stuff.  People that just sold out to make money, for fame and fortune and whatever, but not ‘art for art’s sake’.  From day one I’ve always been ‘art for art’s sake.’  And if I have to starve because of it, so be it.  I would never sell out.  I refuse to do that.

 

In the mid-Seventies bands like AC/DC were bubbling under.  When they burst out onto the scene, did they kind of open the door and pave the way for a lot of the groups to emerge from Australia since?  Bands that come to mind are Rick Springfield, INXS, Midnight Oil, Icehouse, The Church, Men At Work, Angel City…

Well, I’m sure it helped.  There had been other bands.  The Bee Gees came from Australia, as well as the Easybeats, which you mentioned.  That kind of opened the doors.  I don’t think it became an “in” thing to come from Australia.  Because there’d been examples of good people coming from here, that helped.  Men At Work, I loved.  I thought they were great.  Midnight Oil, they’re kind of politically-minded.  Silverchair were kind of young.  They came from Newcastle here.  A lot of these bands I missed out on because I was either in England or touring in America, and didn’t get to see them.

 

What did your parents think of your decision to move to England?

My mum always had a lot of faith in me, and she was keen on me getting out of here and going where it was all happening.  And I went to London.  I had a friend who was working with Led Zeppelin at the time, and he introduced me to a lot of people.  He was doing the out-front sound for Led Zeppelin.  I’d been in a band with him here.  Clive Coulson, his name was.  That helped a lot, and my mum was right behind me.  She said “Get out there and do it!”  My dad, he was a bit more conservative.  I think he probably wouldn’t have minded if I’d said I was giving up music and getting a proper job.  My mum understood more than my dad did, but in later years my dad was very proud of me.  He was more than pleased that I’d done well. 

 

Were they surprised at your success?

I don’t think my mum was, because my mum was pretty psychic.  She used to actually tell me things before they happened.  (laughs) She probably wasn’t that surprised at anything. 

 

 Did you think it was going to take long to get your roots in England?

Well, I was in London for about six or seven months before I joined the blues band Chicken Shack.  It was a good break because they were a name band and I learned a lot working with Stan Webb.  That put me on the scene, and helped me get introduced to other contacts.  It went well. 

 

Was there ever a time when you considered packing up and going back home?  I would guess not.  It seems like things happened pretty quickly when you got over to England.

It did cross my mind, because I was only twenty-one.  I was in a big, scary city with not much money, hardly knowing anyone…from time to time it got depressing.  I was living in a little one-room place, I had no television and no radio, and it was a piss hole of a place. 

 

Did you think you’d made a mistake?

I didn’t think I’d made a mistake, but I did get homesick.  I missed my friends and relatives, and the comforts of home.  I used to get encouraging letters from my mum just saying “Stick it out.”  She used to say things to me like “If you even think of coming back here, I won’t answer the door!” (laughs)  “You fucking stay out there, and you fucking do it!”  She wouldn’t swear like that, but that’s what she meant.  And I’m glad she did, because I did stick at it.  If it hadn’t been for her encouragement… That meant a lot.

 

When you hooked up with Chicken Shack, it wasn’t the first time you had been in a recording studio to do an album, was it?

No, I did an album in Sydney in 1970, and it was called “Wide Open.”  It was with a band called Kahvas Jute.  That’s an album I’m very proud of.  My daughters think it’s some of the best stuff I’ve ever been involved with.  They love it.  It’s just sort of a late-Sixties/early-Seventies progressive rock, with flavors of Cream, Led Zeppelin, Jeff Beck Group, Jethro Tull...all the influences we had at that time. 

 

How much of an impact did Chicken Shack’s Stan Webb have, early in your career?

Oh, quite a lot.  He was a really into knowing the facts about the blues and blues artists.  He’d play me obscure records and obscure artists, educating me.  Stan was such a character.  Not just in being a guitar player and a singer and being into the blues.  He did not stop entertaining.  We’d get onstage, and we’d start the gig off and we’d be doing like a big pub or something.  Might be five hundred people there.  We’d look at the time and we’d think “Fuckin’ hell.  We’ve been standing onstage now for twenty minutes and we haven’t played a note!”  Stan had the audience in the palm of his hand, just by talking to ‘em.  He’d tell them funny stories, he’d tell them jokes and he’d say “Oh, fuckin’ hell.  We’ve got to start playing in a minute.”  And then he’d tell ‘em something else.  You could hear a pin drop because they were intently listening.  He was great like that.  Anywhere he went, he’d end up with a ring of people around him just listening to what he said…telling jokes, doing impressions.  (laughs) Funny bloke!  And he’s still like that.  I still talk to him sometimes.  He still goes out as Stan Webb’s Chicken Shack.  He’s like a legend in his own lunchtime. 

 

By this point, were you starting to see a viable career come out of this?  Were you starting to see this going long-term?

I started seeing it long-term in high school, because when I was studying for high school exams I used to think “I’m wasting all this time bloody studying, and it’s getting in the way of my music.”  I used to play along with records and try to learn new parts, and I used to think “This is getting in the way of it.”  By the time I was thirteen or fourteen, I knew what I wanted to do.  By the time I was fifteen, I was becoming rebellious.  I refused to wear the school uniform at school and I wouldn’t get my haircut.  This was in 1965, and this was pretty pioneering stuff for a kid of fifteen.  I ended up getting thrown out of high school because I refused to obey rules. 

 

I’m sure you were really heartbroken about that.

(laughs) Oh yeah!  I was ahead by a year in my fourth year of high school.  Everyone else was sixteen, and I was fifteen.  But before I turned sixteen I, was out of fourth year high school.  At the end of ’65was my first taste of celebrity and fame - I was picked up in a big black limousine by the national newspaper, to take me to school - to take photographs of this kid that was getting kept out of school because he wouldn’t wear a uniform or get his hair cut!

 

Really?  They did that?

Yeah, I made page nine in the national press when I was fifteen.

 

Going back to Chicken Shack, what happened to bring about the end of that situation?

I suppose the end of the first time I worked with Stan was because the management had Mungo Jerry.  Mungo Jerry had been a big band, and Ray Dorset wanted to turn to more rock sort of stuff.  He wanted to get a rock band together and still do commercial singles, but more with a rock flavor.  A bit heavier sounding.  The management kind of talked me into leaving Stan Webb and Chicken Shack to go to Mungo Jerry.  I did do it, although I felt to myself that it wasn’t the happiest time, musically.  Ray Dorset was a nice enough guy, and they guys in the band were fun and all that.  But it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do.  I was happier in Chicken Shack because it was more blues.  It was more respected stuff.  What I really wanted to do was something heavier, like I eventually did with Rainbow and Ozzy.  I remember doing lots of festivals with Mungo Jerry.  In the summer of ’73, we had a hit record with “Alright, Alright, Alright.”  That was going great guns, and there were armies of kids walking around in the sunshine at these outdoor gigs singing the song.  Just chanting this “Alright, Alright, Alright” thing.  It was a good time.  Paul Hancox, who was the drummer of Chicken Shack, he came with me.  We were both in Mungo Jerry together.  What Ray Dorset wanted was something that sounded a bit more rocky than the original Mungo Jerry, which was like a jug band.  Then we did a single called “Wild Love”, and we had a different drummer named Dave Bidwell, who was the original Chicken Shack drummer.  He was the drummer on “Long Legged Woman Dressed In Black.”  And there were some other outtakes that we did in the studio that didn’t get used, but they’ve apparently been released. 

 

So then you got a call from Stan Webb again?

Well, I got pretty pissed off at the Mungo Jerry thing just because musically it wasn’t really what I wanted to do.  It ended up being more commercial than I thought it was gonna be, so I didn’t want to be in it.  I left, and I went back to Stan Webb.  He called the band Broken Glass for a while, and he released an album.  I didn’t play on the album, because I left to form Widowmaker.  But while I was with Stan he had Robbie Blunt, who later became Robert Plant’s guitar player.  He was a good player, Robbie Blunt. 

 

I met Luther Grosvenor of Spooky Tooth in a pub in King’s Road called the Roebuck.  That was a pub that, in those days, was a center for musicians.  I met Luther Grosvenor, and he was going to put a band together.  I think he already had Paul Nicholls from Lindisfarne.  We got another guitar player, Huw Lloyd Langton, who was from Hawkwind, and did the first album.  After the first album, (vocalist) Steve Ellis couldn’t hold it together.  He wasn’t supposed to be drinking, because he had a problem.  He used to sneak off and drink, and he’d always end up causing problems.  We had to get rid of Steve Ellis, and the second guy we got was a guy called John Butler.  I thought he was a better singer anyway.  I liked John Butler’s voice – it was warmer, it was a bit bluesier, and it was a bit more like Paul Rodgers. 

 

At the end of the Widowmaker tour, in Los Angeles I was introduced to Ritchie Blackmore by a friend of mine, Dick Middleton.  Ritchie and I got on well together.  After we’d gone out a couple of nights - the three of us – I went for an audition with Rainbow.  Ritchie put me through the paces and gave me various (chuckles) “tests,” as far as being a plectrum player.  He wanted a bass player that played with a pick - not a finger style - for a real precise sound.  He liked the way I played.  They’d auditioned loads of bass players, and he gave me the gig at the end of the audition.

 

How much of a change did Rainbow end up being from your experience with Widowmaker?

A lot of the gigs we did with Widowmaker on the first tour of America in ’76, we opened up for ELO.  And ELO was huge at the time, so we were used to doing big gigs.  We did big gigs everywhere.  We were flying around in their private plane, having limos at the airport…we were kind of spoiled, I guess. (laughs)  For an unknown band that was just trying to break, we did it at the top of the ladder, really.  Going into Rainbow, I’d had a taste of that stuff.  It was nothing new, although being a headline act was something nice.  Plus the pressure was on, I suppose.  Ritchie was very strict about the music and how everything sounded.  The arrangements had to be note perfect.  That’s good.  That’s how I think anyway.  We rehearsed and we rehearsed and we rehearsed until everything was perfect, because a lot of the Rainbow songs used to go on for quite some time.  It wasn’t jamming, it was all worked out. 

 

Even if a song ran twenty-five minutes long, it was all worked out beforehand?

Yep.  All that was worked out. 

 

Wow.  Well, you certainly don’t see that nowadays.

I know!  I remember looking at my watch and thinking “Fuckin’ hell, we’ve only done four songs and there’s an hour gone.”  Some nights it would go on a little bit longer than others in certain sections, and Ritchie would give a nod or the eye to Cozy (Powell) to end this part now and go into the next bit.  Sometimes the next bit would be a bit shorter or a bit longer.  But the arrangement itself was all worked out and there was no guesswork.  There was a little bit of conducting, and a little bit of nods and winks. 

 

Other than running a tight ship, was Ritchie easy to get along with?

Yeah, I got on fine with Ritchie.  I could understand where he was coming from.  He was meticulous about his music, the arrangements and how things were run.  Even though Ronnie (Dio) and Cozy were names and part of the strength of the band, it was still Ritchie’s band.  I just got on with the job and did it how he wanted it.  And I got on fine with him.  I didn’t have a problem. 

 

Ritchie had started, then aborted, a new Rainbow album with former Uriah Heep bassist Mark Clarke prior to you joining the band.  How much of the “Long Live Rock N Roll” album did you end up playing on?

Only about three songs – “Kill The King,” “Sensitive To Light” and “Gates Of Babylon.” 

 

I don’t think Mark Clarke had any parts left on there.  Did Ritchie end up playing the rest of the bass?

Yeah, Ritchie played the rest.  And although Ritchie is a great guitar player, he’s not a great bass player.  And not many guitar players are.  They can play widdly-widdly notes on bass, but they have a different approach.  It doesn’t feel like a bass player.  That’s what happened with that album.  It didn’t sound right.  Some of the tracks were a bit plodding – no balls and no fire.  Ritchie was an amazing guitar player and he had that fire in his guitar playing, but as a bass player it just didn’t happen. 

 

Yngwie Malmsteen has done the same thing, and it kind of seemed that his bass lines were mimicking the guitar parts.

Exactly!  The guitar part is different from the way a bass player thinks and feels.  Guitar players don’t seem to get the bass thing. 

 

Ritchie sacked the band at the end of the tour, deciding he wanted to clean house again. 

Yeah, he changed the whole band.  He kept Cozy for a little while, and then got rid of Cozy as well.  Originally, Ronnie James Dio and I were gonna get a band together.  That was gonna happen towards the end of ’78 and into ’79.  It ended up not happening, because Ronnie joined Black Sabbath.  And I only found out about it through the press.  I thought “Oh, I guess we’re not forming a band then, if he’s joined Sabbath.”  The ironic thing was that instead of forming a band with Ronnie, I ended up forming a band with Ozzy in ’79.

 

After being in Rainbow, did you think joining Ozzy Osbourne’s Blizzard Of Ozz was going to be a big risk?

It wasn’t a risk for me.  People did say stuff to me like “He’s just gotten fired from Sabbath.  How far is he gonna go?”  I thought “Well, let’s see.  I’ve got a good feeling about him.  Let’s see what happens, at least.”  Ozzy and I got together at his house.  I’d met him at the club in London called the Music Machine.  I went to a gig to see a band called “Girl”, which was a Jet Records band.  Widowmaker having been with Jet Records, I knew I’d see people there that I at least knew.  One of the guys there from the office of Jet, Arthur Sharpe, introduced me to Ozzy.  We got to talking and he said he was putting a band together.  One thing led to another and I went up on the train to have a jam with Ozzy and a couple of local musician friends of his, there at the house.  It worked out well, and I said to Ozzy “I like the idea, but these guys are not what I had in mind.”  He just went in and said “Hey guys, it’s not working out.  You’d better pack up and go home.”  He said “I know this great guitar player in L.A. called Randy Rhoads.  We’ll fly him over.”  I said “OK, fine.”  I met Randy at Jet Records in London, and we caught a train together to Ozzy’s place, began writing and auditioning drummers. 

 

Was it supposed to be an equal band situation from the beginning?

Yeah.  Well, put it this way.  It was supposed to be a democracy.  Ozzy was supposed to get a little bit more than us, royalty-wise because he was the ‘name’ from Black Sabbath.  It was a ‘band’ and we were all writing the stuff together, but we agreed that he was the selling point.  It was supposed to be a band called ‘Blizzard Of Ozz’.  It actually was called ‘Blizzard Of Ozz’ for the first few months and gradually that got changed to just Ozzy Osbourne.

 

Was the songwriting pretty well split evenly amongst the band, with everybody working together on arrangements and lyrics?

Well, no.  People had their specific roles that came natural to them.  I suppose Ozzy’s forte was his vocal melodies.  Some of the time the vocal melodies followed what we’d already done musically, anyway.  He was more the vocal melody and phrasing.  I was the lyricist.  I wrote all the lyrics for all the albums – “Blizzard”, “Diary”, “Bark At The Moon”, “Ultimate Sin” and “No Rest For The Wicked”.  Randy’s forte, obviously, was his riffs and guitar parts.  And having said that, I helped Randy with writing certain parts of the music.  Things that Randy soloed over were my patterns.  Parts of the songs were my ideas, although Randy thought of the initial riff.  So a lot of the music, we worked together.  Lee Kerslake would sing parts, sitting on the drum kit.  Sometimes he’d have a mike, because Lee is a singer.  He came up with some of the vocal melodies himself.  “Flying High Again” was his vocal melody, and then I wrote the lyrics to it.  We just decided if anybody was involved in any way in the songs, then we’d just split them four ways.  If somebody wasn’t involved, then we’d split three ways among the people who were.  The first album was me, Randy and Ozzy because Lee wasn’t really there for the writing of it.  On the second album, there are six songs Lee was involved in and a couple of them where it was just the three of us.

 

You set about recording the “Blizzard Of Ozz” album, and after it was released you hit the road in the UK?

Yeah.

 

What do you remember of the “Blizzard Of Ozz” tour?  Also, being that you only had an album’s worth of material, did you flesh out the set with non-LP cuts or covers?

Well, they weren’t covers because Ozzy had just come out of Black Sabbath.  He was the draw, and there were a lot of people who were part of a big following of Ozzy’s.  There’d be kids turning up with Black Sabbath jackets on and ‘Ozzy’ written on their t-shirts.  We were doing the set – the album material – and we did a medley of Black Sabbath songs because the kids wanted to hear “Paranoid,” “War Pigs” and those sorts of things.  I think we played about an hour and a quarter, or hour and a half. 

 

There was an EP that came out – the “Mr. Crowley Live” EP.  It had a b-side on it called “You Said It All.”  Was that something that was worked up in the studio or on the road?

No, that was worked out at one of the gigs one afternoon.  The record company said “Look, we want another b-side, because we want to release a live version of “Mr. Crowley”.  We’ll need something that’s different – that’s not on the album.”  That afternoon Ozzy was asleep under the drum riser because he was drunk.  Randy had a riff.  Lee Kerslake sat in on the mike and came up with the vocal melody for it.  Randy, Lee and I worked out the music together.  We did a rough arrangement, showed it to Ozzy, and I took the tape of the rough arrangement, with Lee singing the melody, and I wrote the lyrics.  In the afternoon, I took them back, and we recorded. 

 

Was there ever a plan for that to come out on the second album?

No.  That was just a one-off type of thing.  “Quick!  We need a song!”  It was thrown together.  We did it at the sound check in the afternoon, then I wrote the lyrics, then we recorded it.  I’m not 100% sure if we recorded it that night.  I think we did, because I know there was the pressure of “Get it done, get it done.”  Otherwise I would have written the lyrics another time.  I wrote them when I went back to the hotel to get ready for the gig after the sound check.  I think we must have recorded it that night. 

 

Another b-side – one that actually was recorded in the studio – was “You, Looking At Me Looking At You.”

Yeah, that was specifically done at the studio, and with time to do it.  We weren’t sure if that was going to go on the album.  I think “No Bone Movie” was written for a b-side.  But “No Bone Movies” actually came out stronger than “You, Looking At Me…” so we put “No Bone Movies” on the album.  “You, Looking At Me Looking At You” was a b-side.

 

Did you do any US dates on the first tour?

No, the first tour was UK only.

 

Striking while the iron was hot, you headed back into the studio for “Diary Of A Madman”?

Well, we didn’t go straight into the studio.  There was about a year in between “Blizzard” and “Diary.”  I tend to hear from time to time that people think “Blizzard” and “Diary” were recorded pretty much together.  But they weren’t.  For “Blizzard” the writing began at the end of 1979, and the writing finished in the beginning of 1980.  Then we went into the studio around March of 1980.  We did the touring, and towards the end of the year, more writing.  Then we went in to do “Diary”, recording it in the beginning of 1981. 

 

How did you and Lee Kerslake come to leave the group after the completion of the second album?

Obviously they had planned to get rid of us, but they wanted to use us for that album.  That’s exactly what they did.  I think it all stemmed from when we were putting the band together.  Ozzy had the idea that it would be good if we had Tommy Aldridge as the drummer.  But Tommy wasn’t available.  We were auditioning drummers and found Lee Kerslake.  We thought “Thank fuck for that.  He’s perfect for the band!”  And he was.  He was great for the band.  In everything he did, he was great.  After the recording of the first album, during the tour, Sharon had come on the scene.  She knew Tommy Aldridge.  He was a friend.  She and Ozzy started saying “Let’s get rid of Lee and get Tommy Aldridge in.”  I wouldn’t agree to it.  I said “Look, if it ain’t broke – don’t fix it.  There’s nothing wrong with Lee.  He’s perfect for the band.  Tommy’s a great drummer, but Lee’s perfect for the band.  Leave it alone.”  Several times they pulled me aside and asked me.  They went on and on, and I would never agree.  I think at the end of the day it was like “Get rid of Lee, and Bob can go with him.”  But I don’t think Ozzy wanted to get rid of me, because he kept asking me back.

 

So you and Lee both joined with Uriah Heep?

Uriah Heep had broken up, but we reformed it with Mick Box.  We joined at the tail of ’81.  It might have been mid-’81 that we started actually writing stuff, and began putting a record together.  In ’82, we went and did an American tour.  When we landed in Houston, Texas to start the American tour, it was the 19^th of March, which was the day Randy Rhoads was killed.

 

With Uriah Heep trying to rebound from their creative low point with the “Conquest” album, did you think you’d have your work cut out for you, joining when you did?

I liked Uriah Heep’s music.  Uriah Heep were a good band.  They’d been around for quite some time.  I like Mick Box as a person.  He’s a lovely bloke, really nice to work with.  And Lee and I had become really close, even though we’d only known each other a year and a half or so.  He was good to work with, as well.  I was pleased about the Uriah Heep thing.  It was like a real family vibe with that band.  Everybody liked everybody, got along and we had a good laugh.  It was a nice situation.  I just wish that it could have done better. 

 

Did you audition for Mick Box, or did he bring you in on the merit of what you’d already done?

Nobody auditioned.  Here’s what it was - “Let me, Mick and Lee just get together in the studio.  We’ll have a play together, we’ll see if anything comes of it.  Or if we like each other.”  We did, and the first day we said “Yeah, this is good.”

 

How come that lineup only lasted for two records? 

I liked both of those albums.  What happened was that it just wasn’t doing well.  I don’t think the record company got behind it.  And the management…it was not happening.  It’d become frustrating.  It was beginning to piss people off.  Us, I mean.  And then I got a call from Ozzy saying “Look man, would you come back?”  Randy had been killed.  He had Jake E Lee, and he had Tommy Aldridge.  “Do you want to do another album?  I need some writing, and I need you to play bass on it.”  So I went.  It was the end of that lineup of Uriah Heep, when I went back to do the Ozzy thing.  They carried on with Trevor Bolder.

 

When you rejoined Ozzy, was he under pressure to come up with an album that would match, or better, “Diary Of A Madman”?

I think there was a little pressure.  Nobody knew which way it was gonna go.  The original lineup was gone forever.  Lee had gone, and wouldn’t work with Ozzy again.  Randy was dead.  So it was Jake E Lee, Tommy Aldridge…me and Ozzy were the only ones left of the original lineup.  We thought we could have a flop album - anything could happen.  As it turned out, it was very successful.  I thought Jake E Lee did an admirable job of filling the shoes of Randy Rhoads, which weren’t easy shoes to fill.  And he did it in his own style.  In his own way.  And even though he played all the Randy bits correctly, he had his own flavor and his own interpretation. 

 

Do you think it was more of a comfort factor for Ozzy, having you back in the band? 

It could have been a comfort factor.  He was surrounded by strangers, all of a sudden.  Tommy Aldridge wasn’t a songwriter, whereas Lee was.  Jake had a lot of good ideas, but Rudy Sarzo – he’s not a writer.  According to Ozzy, he wasn’t even coming up with bass lines.  He was playing my bass lines fine.  He could copy, but coming up with new ones was a different thing. 

 

So with people in the band such as yourself and Jake E Lee contributing riffs and writing ideas, why was Ozzy listed as the sole writer on “Bark At The Moon”?

I won’t go into the detail of it too much, but that was a complication with publishing companies, with credits and things like that.  To simplify, they just put it under Ozzy as writing everything.  Out of anybody, he probably wrote the least. (laughs)

 

Why were you listed as co-producer on “Blizzard Of Ozz” and “Bark At The Moon”, but not “Diary Of A Madman”?

Because they dropped our credits off everything.  We played on it and co-produced it.  Then they just dropped our credits when we weren’t in the band anymore, which was really unfair.  Max Norman was engineer on the first album, and he was engineer on the second album.  Because it was his second album with us, we thought “Why not give him a credit as a co-producer?”  We were producing it.  And then all of a sudden, overnight, he became this well-known producer for something he was really an engineer on.  A lot of the production ideas were mine on that album.  I didn’t get credit for them.  See how that worked?  It’s pretty obvious, when you look at it.  They just took my credit off.

 

Have you had the opportunity or desire to produce other artists?

Oh, I’ve done a little bit.  I just produced the blues album I did here in Australia last year.  That should come out this year, hopefully.  I did co-produce all the Mother’s Army stuff with Jeff Watson and Joe Lynn Turner.  There was a band in 1991 that I produced, in Sydney, Australia.  I flew out from England to produce a band called Addictive.  They were sort of a metal band.  That went quite well.  But playing and writing is my forte, and I like to produce my own stuff. 

 

The “Bark At The Moon” touring band first included Carmine Appice, and then Tommy Aldridge returned halfway through the tour.  Who did you better gel with as a rhythm section?

(pause) Lee Kerslake.  I don’t think either Carmine or Tommy were right for Ozzy’s band.  They should have kept Lee. 

 

When was your last gig with Ozzy, and did you know it would be your last at that time?

Rock In Rio in the beginning of 1985.  Actually, in 1988 I did one gig to take Geezer’s place when his mom died, and he had to go back to England.  I came out to do that one. 

 

How much of the “Ultimate Sin” album had been written before you were out of the picture again?

Pretty much all of the music, and some of the lyrics.  Ozzy and I had a fallout.  We were writing a lot in Palm Springs.  Jake & I  put the music together.  Ozzy was in the Betty Ford Center for his alcohol and drug problem.  We did some rehearsals, and then we were in London to audition drummers.  Tommy had left.  We had started auditioning drummers in L.A. before we came back to England.  There was the possibility of Randy Castillo but we weren’t sure, and we gave a few other guys a try.  We went into a studio with…it wasn’t Randy Castillo on drums; it might have been Jim Delgrosso that came in to do the demos.  While we were demo-ing, Ozzy wanted to change things.  We’d been rehearsing and putting the songs together during the week and Ozzy didn’t come into some of the rehearsals.  When we got into the demos – cause the record company wanted to hear some of the stuff we were doing – he wanted to start changing things, he’d started smoking pot and he was drinking.  I said “Ozzy, look – fuckin’ hell, we’ve got limited time here.  We’ve got to come up with something to play the record company.  Now you want to change stuff, and you didn’t even show up for rehearsals during the week.  You should have come to rehearsals, and we could have done it then.”  He got all pissed off and we ended up in an argument.  By the end of the night, it was like “Fuck you!  And you can take fucking Jake with you.”  Jake stayed, but I left.  Then I got a phone call about six weeks after that saying “We’ve finished the music part of the writing.  Will you write the lyrics for the album?”  So I went and I wrote the lyrics for “The Ultimate Sin”.  Just at home, with tapes that they sent me.

 

At this point in the mid-80’s, your work with Ozzy and Gary Moore was overlapping?    

Yeah, I was already with Gary by then.  I did a stint with Gary for his live video at the end of 1984, “Emerald Isles.”  He was pleased he said “In the future, if you find yourself not working with Ozzy, I’d like to work with you.”  So in ’85, when Ozzy and I parted, I went back to Gary.  That worked very well.  I was with Gary for the next five years or so.

 

Aside from the odd session with Ozzy on his further albums?

Yeah, I used to go do stuff with other people.  At the end of the American tour with Gary Moore, I did the session for Bill Ward – a couple of tracks on his solo album.  I did the tracks on half of the “Odyssey” album for Yngwie Malmsteen.  And in the beginning of 1988 I did the “No Rest For The Wicked” album with Ozzy.  Just to do the album.  I wasn’t going to rejoin the band, cause he had Geezer playing with him and Geezer was going to go on the road with him. 

 

Jumping back for a moment, you mentioned the “Emerald Isles” documentary, which detailed Gary Moore’s return to Northern Ireland for the first time in a decade.   How did the band feel about going to Northern Ireland?  Were some of them uncomfortable with the idea?

I was still with Ozzy when I did that video, so I wasn’t really part of the ‘band’.  I didn’t even question it.  The only thing that I can think they might have been apprehensive about was the trouble in Northern Ireland with the Protestants and Catholics, the British Army.  That could have been a factor in why people didn’t want to go.  But I understood that it was an important thing for Gary to do.  He went back hailed as a hero in his own country, which must have been a nice feeling. 

 

Was your contribution on “Run For Cover” actually a session left over from the “Victims Of The Future” album?  It was only one song, “Once In A Lifetime.”

I can’t remember much about that.  I remember I used to call it “Once In A Lunchtime.”  I think because that album had almost been finished, and because I was leaving Ozzy to work with Gary permanently, and they were about to go on the road to promote that album – they probably thought it’d be good to have me on at least one track.  They brought me in to do that track.

 

You also did Black Sabbath’s “Eternal Idol” album?

Yeah, that was in 1986.  The producer was named Jeff Glixman, who I’d worked with on “Victims Of The Future” in the end of 1984. 

 

On the previous Sabbath album, “Seventh Star,” Dave Spitz had played bass.  Was there question about his continuing role in the band?  Is that why you were asked to do it?

No, I think what happened was…. I got a call from Jeff Glixman about doing the “Eternal Idol” album because Dave Spitz had been out there in Montserrat, West Indies at AIR Studios to do that album, and had to go back to America.  I don’t know if it was a personal problem, a business thing…he had to go back for something.  Jeff Glixman phoned me because I’d known him from working with Gary Moore, and he said “There’s a Sabbath album to do if you want to do it.  Would you be interested?”  I said “Yeah, I’ll come out and do it.”  That’s my sort of music.  I did the whole album, although Dave Spitz got credited, I suppose, as the bass player in the band.  And they wanted to keep his name associated with them.  They’d asked me to join the band, but I stayed loyal to Gary Moore.  I didn’t join Black Sabbath.  I guess they just kept Dave Spitz’ name on the album to give it continuity.  He didn’t play a note on it.  I think he actually told people that he played on some of it. 

 

In 1987 you were joined for the “Wild Frontier” tour by drummer Eric Singer, whom you’d worked with on the Sabbath record?

He was my recommendation to Gary, because Gary was looking for a drummer.  We auditioned loads of drummers.  One of the drummers we auditioned in London was Zak Starkey, Ringo’s son.  He was very good, and we liked him, but Gary was worried because he was young then.  He was a bit green, and he wasn’t a seasoned pro.  I told Gary I knew a great drummer, Eric Singer, and he got flown over and auditioned.  I knew Eric would work well with Gary.

 

Was Gary still on a high from his successful trip home to Ireland?

I don’t think so.  I think it was an important thing at the time.  Having his Irish connections, I think the trouble in Ireland affected him.  I think he was pretty sad about what was going on there.  That’s why some of his songs reflected that, like “After The War.”  It was like a war going on in Ireland.  “Wild Frontier” was Ireland. 

 

Whose idea was it to record the Easybeats cover “Friday On My Mind”?

That wasn’t my idea, although having originally been done by an Australian band, the Easybeats….Gary just wanted to do it.  It was a good song.

 

Earlier, you mentioned Yngwie Malmsteen’s “Odyssey” album.  How did you end up working with Yngwie?

It was Jeff Glixman again.  Jeff Glixman was producing the album, and I had already worked with Jeff – with Gary Moore, and on the Black Sabbath album the year before.  I spoke to Jeff during the American tour with Gary Moore.  He said “When you finish the Gary Moore tour, I’m doing the Yngwie album.  Do you want to do some tracks on it?”  I said “Yeah, sure.”  So I stopped in L.A. when everybody else went home, rehearsed with Yngwie and then we went down to Austin, TX.  We did the tracks down there. 

 

Does Yngwie strike you as having a Ritchie Blackmore fixation?

Totally. (laughs) I think that’s why he wanted to be associated with, or work with, people like Joe Lynn Turner and myself.  Anything to do with Ritchie, Rainbow or Purple – Yngwie was pretty hung up on.  Even the Yngwie Malmsteen Fender Strat is really just a variation of the Ritchie Blackmore model, with the scalloped-out fretboard.  A lot of his stances on stage even look like Ritchie.  He’s pretty occupied with the Ritchie Blackmore thing.  Playing-wise, he’s got his own thing.  He’s a great player.  And it’s not a bad thing, I guess, to have a Ritchie Blackmore influence.

 

Back to Gary Moore.  On the “After The War”album, you were reunited with Cozy Powell.  Tell me about the recording of the album? 

The recording of the album went pretty well, and Gary was pretty happy with it.  But Cozy wasn’t as strict in his playing live as what Gary demanded.  Cozy would play a song one way one day, and then the next day he would do a different fill in a different place.  Gary would say “No, no, no!  I want it like the record.”  Everything had to sound like the record.  I said to Gary at the end of the first week of rehearsing with Cozy “Gary, are you sure about this?  It doesn’t seem like it’s gonna work out.”  He said “No, no.  It’ll be fine.”  The second week it still didn’t seem to be getting any better.  Cozy was doing it his way.  And then by about the third week, it was getting close to starting the tour. (laughs)  Gary phoned me one night after rehearsal and said “I think you might be right.  We might have to look for something else.”  So although Cozy had done the album, when it came to going on the road I think we had to postpone the first week of gigs or something.  We brought in Chris Slade, we did extra rehearsals and Chris Slade learned the whole set.  He did it how Gary wanted it, and it sounded like Gary wanted it to sound.  It worked out very well with Chris Slade.  I like Chris Slade.  He’s a nice bloke, and he’s a good player. 

 

How true were reports of animosity between Gary and Ozzy, prior to their working together on the “After The War” album?

Well, there’s always been a bit of a funny situation with Gary and the Osbournes.  I don’t know how personal it is.  I know they’ve had digs at each other in the press.  I don’t think it runs that deep.  They don’t see eye to eye in some things, and they don’t respect each other in some things.  They’d have a dig at each other every now and again, but I don’t think it’s anything too serious.

 

After the “After The War” tour, did Gary express that he was considering a change in musical direction?

That was my idea.  We were in Germany, and we were sitting in the tune-up room before a gig.  Gary and I were just messing around, playing little blues riffs.  I said “Why don’t we do a blues album, Gary?  You know, something different.  It’d be great.  You’re good at it.  Let’s do a blues album.”  He liked the idea, thought more about it and decided to do it.  But when I said let’s do a blues album, I meant the band as it was.  He brought in new people and it took off and he got carried away with the success of it.  All of a sudden, we weren’t in the band. (laughs) I played on some of both albums (“Still Got The Blues” and “After Hours”). Being that it was my idea and then I ended up not being in the band, I didn’t think it was that fair.  But I wasn’t going to stand in the way of his career.  If that’s the way he wanted to go, so be it.

 

Were you surprised to find yourself working with former Uriah Heep bandmate John Sinclair on the later Ozzy albums?

I’d been telling Ozzy about John Sinclair for years.  When I worked with John Sinclair in Uriah Heep, I thought John would be perfect for Ozzy.  Even if he wanted to do it as a session.  I recommended him.  It was no surprise, and I was glad about it.  I was glad, cause I got on with John. 

 

Bassist Neil Murray, like yourself, recorded with both Gary Moore and Black Sabbath.  Was there ever a sense of competition for these gigs?

No, never.  There was never any sort of air of competition.  That’s just how it happened.

 

Neil Murray’s recorded work might almost be defined by his association with Cozy Powell, whether in Whitesnake, Sabbath, Brian May or even Peter Green’s band.  Would it be fair to say the same of you and Lee Kerslake?  If not, with whom do you associate yourself as part of the quintessential rhythm section?

That’s a difficult one.  The person that I would work best with, and who I think is the best drummer I’ve ever worked with, is Aynsley Dunbar.  Aynsley Dunbar worked on the last Mother’s Army album, and we worked very well as a rhythm section.  As a writing team, overall, I would say Lee Kerslake.  I got on well with Tommy Aldridge, but as a rhythm section he probably wouldn’t be my choice.  Carmine Appice was another one.  We grooved together really well.  It was so comfortable.  That was very good, and I’m talking apart from what we did with Ozzy.  Getting the Mother’s Army thing together, as a rhythm section -  that worked very well. 

 

There are several strong writers in Mother’s Army.  Was it a refreshing change of pace from having to write either all of the material (as in Ozzy) or none of the material (as in Rainbow/Gary Moore)?

It happened in a similar way, really.  Jeff Watson and I used to get together and do the musical side of things first.  Joe would come up with vocal melodies.  I would write a lot of the lyrics by myself.  Joe and I would write lyrics together.  Jeff would sometimes have ideas for lyrics.  It wasn’t that much different from what I’d done in the past. 

 

Is Joe Lynn Turner particular about writing a lot of the material he sings?

No.  When we did the second album, “Planet Earth”, Jeff and I wrote most of that album alone.  Joe loved the stuff.  When he heard the demos he said “Oh man, I took this demo home and I’ve just been listening to it at home to get familiar with it for when I do my vocals.  But I’ve become a fan of my own band!” (laughs)

 

It sounded so different.  The “Planet Earth” album seems very melancholy. 

Yeah, well it’s more laid back.  We were in sort of a Pink Floyd frame of mind.  We didn’t want it too aggressive, hard-hitting, heavy, in-your-face.  It was just the mood we were in at the time.  When we did “Fire On The Moon” after that, it was much more rocky and a bit more in-your-face. 

 

When you listen to “Planet Earth” it doesn’t even sound like Joe Lynn Turner.

And I’ll tell you why it doesn’t sound like Joe Lynn Turner.  Jeff had put down all the vocals first, how we thought it should go.  It was only Jeff and I doing most of the work on that album.  With a little bit of his own thing, Joe just replaced what Jeff had already done. 

 

How differently did you approach writing for Mother’s Army as opposed to an Ozzy album? 

Jeff isn’t as into the heavy influence as I am.  So naturally, it would have a lesser riffy, heavy thing.  Working with Randy Rhoads, Zakk Wylde and Jake E Lee – they were more into Tony Iommi.  Jeff’s more into the technical side more than the heavy guitar hero.  He’s more into Steve Morse, who’s a friend of his.  Or Allan Holdsworth, which gave him more of a technical thing guitar-wise, without being as heavy.  I would have preferred it a bit heavier. 

 

What important things have you learned and taken away with you from working with the following people:

Stan Webb…Stan Webb is definitely an education in the history of blues, obscure blues artists, where certain popular songs came from…the original versions of where something was stolen from!  He’s like an encyclopedia of that sort of thing.  And as a general entertainer, he’s great.  I learned a lot from being with him.

 

Widowmaker…It was a good time.  The first album was kind of an experiment, finding direction.  By the second album I realized I wanted to lean towards the bluesy Bad Company feel.  Just as we were getting our feet on the ground and finding direction, it was beginning to crumble because people were arguing and fighting.   

 

Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow…I think more than anything, professionalism.  I’d learned how important it is to be professional and to be reliable, which I’d always wanted to be.  Working with Rainbow was a really tight ship.  You just had to get on with it, and be very astute.

 

Ozzy Osbourne…Don’t trust people. (laughs)  No…With Ozzy I realized, and this is a great thing…I feel very appreciative of the situation there.  With Ozzy, I’ve realized a goal and an ambition that I’d had for a long time.  That is to be part of something that was very successful - either a hit single or a hit album – something that was going to be a milestone in rock history.  And that was exactly what we achieved.  That had been an ambition of mine, because in Rainbow the writing situation was pretty much sewn up between Ritchie and Ronnie.  With Ozzy, I had a lot of input in writing all that stuff.  That was a real treat for me.

 

Gary Moore…Just to work with Gary.  He’s such a great player, and he’s such a dedicated musician.  He’s a jack-of-all-trades.  Some people are “jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none.”  But he seems to be a jack-of-all-trades and master of them all.  When he was doing fusion, he was really good at that.  He was good at rock.  He’s good at blues.  He’s a good player, all around. 

 

Mother’s Army…It was a very frustrating situation, in as much as we had good music, good musicians and good songs but nothing much happened with it.  We couldn’t get arrested with that project, for some reason.  Either because we’re not young, pretty eighteen-year-old boys anymore or whatever.  I don’t know, but we couldn’t get that off the ground.   Musically, it was very satisfying.  I liked working with Jeff Watson, it was good playing with Carmine and then when Aynsley came in…what a great drummer that guy is, you know?  He’s brilliant.  Joe Lynn Turner?  Lovely bloke - I love him.  It was satisfying musically, but frustrating business-wise.

 

Are there any recordings you’ve done, that you’re not satisfied with?

The first Mother’s Army album, I would remix.  Probably “Bark At The Moon” I may re-record, or certainly remix. 

 

Unless Ozzy beat you to it.

(laughs) Yeah.  There’s not a lot.  Most of it, you tend to get so used to things and how they sound that you think that’s how they should sound.  If you change something, even if it’s an improvement, sometimes it just doesn’t sound right because you get so used to hearing it a certain way.  That’s why those two albums (the reissued “Blizzard Of Ozz” and “Diary Of A Madman” albums, in which Daisley and Kerslake’s original recorded parts were replaced ) will never be accepted.  They just don’t sound like the originals.  They’re milestones in rock history.  They’re Ozzy’s “Sgt. Pepper”.  You can’t fuck with things like that.  It was stupid to do it.

 

What’s been your most trying session or tour? 

I did a tour with Ronnie James Dio in the end of 1998.  It was in Scandinavia, and I’d flown from an Australian summer to a Scandinavian winter.  It wasn’t bad, but it was a few weeks after my dad had died.  I went to do the tour, and I just wasn’t in a good frame of mind.  I just didn’t feel right.  There was a lot of travel, I was working with Ronnie after twenty years of not working with him and it just felt a little bit like that movie “Still Crazy”.  I love Ronnie, and I love his voice.  I don’t know…we were all on a bus together – the crew and the band – the crew was smoking, and I hate cigarettes.  There didn’t seem to be much camaraderie in the band.  When we’d get to a town and I’d say “Anyone want to have a wander around or get a bite to eat?” most of them were into staying in their rooms.  But I think a lot of it was to do with…my dad had died, I had just moved back to Australia and I was ready to go home.  But that was no fault of Ronnie or the band or the music.

There is one session that we didn’t talk about. I worked with Steve Vai, with Ozzy.

For the "Ozzmosis" album?

Yeah, when Ozzy was thinking about using Steve Vai. We were in Steve Vai’s studio in 1994. Then we went to New York to rehearse and write at CBS/Sony Studios. And instead of saying to Steve "It ain’t working out," Sharon came into the rehearsal room and said "The plug’s been pulled on the project." I said "Yeah, sure…ok." I thought "What a cowardly way to get rid of Steve Vai." A little while after that - the following year, in 1995 - I got a call from Eddie Kramer. He was doing a tribute album to Jimi Hendrix with people like Carlos Santana, Steve Vai and a lot of good players. And Steve Vai requested me to do his track. So Eddie Kramer phoned me and I went over to do the track. The album was called "In From The Storm." It worked out really good. It was great to do it. Tony Williams, the fusion/jazz drummer, died a few years after that. We did "Bold As Love," from the "Axis: Bold As Love" album. I thought that was really the best song on the album. Not because it was the one I was on, but just because it turned out the best. It had Paul Rodgers from Bad Co./Free singing, and I love Paul Rodgers’ voice. Steve Vai did a great job on the Hendrix parts, and Tony Williams – great drummer. It turned out really well.

Which of your albums would you like to be remembered for, if you had to pick one or two?

Everything. That’s a difficult one. I don’t know…music is such a personal thing and there’s reasons I like an album for one thing, and different reasons I like another thing. Probably "Blizzard" and "Diary". They’ve become such rock anthems and milestones. I’m very proud of that, because I was such an integral part of the writing and producing of those albums. I suppose those would be the proudest moments.

When was the last time you went back and had a look or listen to the things you’ve done?

Probably not often enough, and not recent enough. The only reason I’ve listened to some of the stuff from the "Blizzard" and "Diary" albums is because of these reissues - the bad ones. And to listen to what the real ones sound like. Fuck, they’re still good! They still hold up, and it’s twenty years later. They were done in different circumstances, with different technology and a whole different approach than what people use now. They still sound good. Because there’s life in it…there’s life, there’s energy, and there’s a chemistry. That never dates. There’s some good vibes and magic, created and captured. But I don’t listen to other stuff I’ve done often enough. I think "Aw shit, I should put some Uriah Heep stuff on…I should listen to the Yngwie stuff I did…or put the Rainbow stuff on." I probably don’t listen to a lot of my own stuff that I’ve done over the years often enough.

Who did you emulate, growing up?

Paul McCartney. I thought he was such a melodic bass player. I love the idea of being melodic. That has been an influence on me. Also, as far as the aggressiveness for bass playing that I really admire and that was a big influence, Jack Bruce of Cream. And Ronnie Wood on the first two solo Jeff Beck albums, "Truth" and "Beckola". Ronnie Wood was a really good bass player.

Who do you admire today?

One of my old favorites is Willie Weeks. Willie Weeks has done lots of stuff on Donnie Hathaway albums, but I think he really shines on "Donnie Hathaway Live". He does a bass solo that’s just out of this world. It’s just pure taste and feel. It’s not widdly-widdly-widdly. It’s really, really good.

Do you still have your first bass guitar?

My first bass guitar I got when I was fourteen. It was a red Futurama. I don’t have it. I sold it when I was about fifteen or sixteen to get something slightly better. In those days I didn’t have a lot of money it wasn’t a rich family so if I wanted to change instruments I couldn’t hang onto the previous one. I had to trade it in. I wish I still had it. I’ve got photos of me with it.

What other instruments do you play?

I’ve just begun learning to play blues harmonica, and I’ve been playing now for about six months. It was something I’ve always wanted to do, and there was a course here. I learned the basics of it. It’s just down to some practicing and playing along with records now. I like it. It’s good. So at some stage, you may hear me do a little harmonica on a song or something.

Has there been time for a family, amidst all this rocking and rolling?

Yeah, I got married in London in 1976. Her name’s Vicki, and I have two daughters.

Music has taken up so much of your life. What do you do to get away from it for a while?

Sometimes I do nothing. I just think "I’m not going to listen to music, I’m not going to hear music. I’m just gonna vegetate for a while." Maybe read books, watch movies, get drunk or whatever. It’s one of those things – if music’s in your blood you can’t stay away for too long. You need to play, you need to create, record…

Ozzy recently re-recorded parts of, and reissued the classic "Blizzard Of Ozz" and "Diary Of A Madman" albums. Do you think he has set a disturbing precedent that any other acts may follow?

I would hate to think so, and I think people will immediately learn from this, never to do that. I would hate to think people would take anything that’s been around a long time - that’s become a classic - and change it in any way. Even if you think you’re going to improve on it - if you think you can do a better mix, if you think you can replace somebody’s playing with somebody who can play better - that’d be like taking a classic Beatles record and putting Jon Hiseman or Billy Cobham on it. Ok, the drumming’s better than Ringo did, but doesn’t it stink! If it’s selling well and it’s become a classic, leave it alone. I think it’s sacred.

With your new website you’ve been able to gauge fan reaction directly, either about your work with Ozzy or your other projects. Do you wish you’d had a website earlier on?

It’s something that I just didn’t think about. Maybe I should have. I’ve never been the sort of person to push myself, or push people out of the way so I can get into the limelight. Now that it is around, and looking at what it can do, there are times in the past where it might have been more helpful to my position or to my argument if I’d had a website. I could put my opinion, or the facts, across to people that didn’t know the truth. I’m glad it’s getting to unfold. People are learning the truth.

I hear so many people say "Wow, I didn’t know you wrote all those lyrics." You know, I’m not gonna take 100% credit. Ozzy came up with a title here and there or a line here and there, and they were his melodies. It was a chemistry between four people. I could sit at home and write the best lyrics in the world. But if the right four people didn’t get together to do them, then they may still be sitting at home. I give everybody credit where credit’s due. The thing with those albums…it was the moment that the four of us got together. What we did enhanced Randy’s playing. What we did enhanced Ozzy’s input and vocal. What they did enhanced what I did. I know for sure that when we were writing the songs - before Lee came in - I was doing certain lines that, after Lee came in, I actually changed. It brought out the best in me, and made a good thing even better. And the same with Lee. The three of us enhanced his drumming, his ideas, his input as well. It was just a chemistry that worked, and it created a classic. I don’t think anybody should mess with that, regardless of the reasons. I think they’re obviously selfish reasons, with the Osbournes. Selfish in as much as it doesn’t matter that I’m insulted, or Lee’s insulted, because we’re suing them for the royalties we haven’t been paid. But when they insult the memory of Randy Rhoads – because Randy’s playing doesn’t have the spark or sound the same with the other two guys on the new releases – it’s also an insult and a finger up to the fans saying "Hey fuck you. I’m Ozzy Osbourne. I can do whatever I like." Which he thinks he’s done. The reaction is unbelievable! People are up in arms about it. They hate the idea. I’d say that more than 90% of the comments have been very adverse to what’s gone down.

Do you have any thoughts you’d like to share about the late Randy Castillo, with whom you worked on two Ozzy records, and who succumbed last month to cancer?

The first I heard about Randy’s illness was last year, and I heard that he had throat cancer. I suppose him being a smoker, I wasn’t really surprised.  I was sad. I thought "Here’s another one they’ve gotten."  I’m anti-tobacco industry. They’ve got a lot to answer for. I’m not blaming the smokers themselves, I’m talking about the tobacco industry exploiting human life. Getting kids hooked on the stuff, and by the time they realize it was a silly thing to do they’re so hooked that it’s difficult for them to give up.  Being a rebel myself when I was a young kid, I think kids tend to think they’re being rebellious if they smoke, when they’re being told by schools and parents not to. What they’re doing is playing into the hands of the tobacco industry - if you want to be a real rebel, tell ‘em to shove it! If you analyze the situation, you look at it and think - it’s gonna make your hair and your clothes stink, make your teeth stained, give you bad breath and ill health, it costs a shit load of money – "Mmm…gimme some of that!" I’ve smoked a bit of pot in the 70’s and the 80’s, but I don’t even really do that anymore. That gets to be like taking stupid pills, sometimes. (laughs) But I wouldn’t condemn other people for it.

Working with Randy, he was a nice bloke. When I heard about his death…I had heard that he was having some treatment for his illness. I guess it didn’t work. I heard Sharon Osbourne kicked up a fuss at the service for his funeral, kicking Phil Soussan (bassist on Ozzy’s "Ultimate Sin" album) in the knee or something, I suppose because Phil is suing the Osbournes as well for royalties he didn’t get. It seems to be a bit of a pattern, doesn’t it? It was sad, to hear that. If you’ve got a grievance with somebody else, and you’re trying to pay respects to somebody’s death…why did Sharon go to his funeral to pay her respects, if she was going to be disrespectful? If you wanna kick Phil Soussan in the knee, do it somewhere else – not at Randy’s funeral.

Was there any one session or album that you enjoyed most, working with Randy Castillo?

Probably "No Rest For The Wicked." That was the best time that I had, working with Randy. On "No More Tears," I worked with Randy as well, but I was called in at the last minute. Mike Inez was in the band, but Ozzy said the album wasn’t sounding right. I said "I’ll think about it" when Sharon first asked me to do it. Then Ozzy phoned me and said "Come on, you owe me this much." I thought "I owe you?!" We had a deal, I went in to do the session and got paid per track to play on it. I was a little annoyed – I suppose they wanted to keep Mike Inez’ name associated with the band because he was still in the band, and going on the road with them. But it kind of confused people. "Did you play on all the tracks?" "Did Mike Inez do some of them?" Credit where it’s due – and I’m always fair about that – he came up with the basic idea of that intro to "No More Tears." I did a variation of it, and then all the other parts were mine. If I’m replacing something that somebody’s done, I never want to hear what they’ve done. So it doesn’t influence me. Working with Randy, we got the drum tracks first. I was with him the whole time he was doing the drum tracks, playing "guide" bass. Then I replaced a lot of the "guide" bass working with Randy. We hung out together a bit and I got on well with him. It was sad, the way he went.

There’s a great picture of you and Randy Castillo on your website. When was that taken?

That was taken during the one-off show that I did when Geezer’s mother died, and they were really stuck because Geezer had to fly back to England. They didn’t want to cancel any shows, and I got a phone call from Sharon. I sat at home with a tape of the songs and went through everything, did one rehearsal at the sound check and did the show that night. That picture was taken the night of the gig, somewhere in America.

Last question. What’s your drink of choice?

(laughs) Probably wine, more than anything. I love a nice cold beer on a hot day, but I think too much beer is too fattening. I think my drink of choice, overall, would be wine. Every once in a while I like Jagermeister. That’s some good stuff.

Well "Cheers!" to you then, Bob Daisley.