60s Bad Boy (and Lennon pal) P.J. Proby

In the early 1960s, American singer P.J. Proby was brought to London by Jack Good, Beatles manager Brian Epstein and The Beatles themselves for their TV show “Around The Beatles.” He met The Beatles and became close friends with John Lennon and his wife, Cynthia. He signed a recording contract with Decca Records and the future looked bright until a minor pants-splitting episode set P.J. up for trouble. Recently, I sat down with this charming performer to get the true story about why he was blackballed from the British stage.

Jude Southerland Kessler: P.J. it’s an honor to visit with you. I know you were close friends with John Lennon from about 1964-1966. How did you meet John – and, of course, the other Beatles? How did that friendship come about?

P.J. Proby: Well, in 1964, I was brought to England to do this Beatles television show, Around The Beatles. Paul McCartney introduced me, and I sang “Walkin’ the Dog,” and then, this old skiffle number called “Cumberland Gap” (which I jazzed up) and then, “I Believe.” The audience really seemed to like it. I was in England for 15 days, and while I was there, I made a record.

Kessler: Okay, we’ll talk about that record in a minute, but first, let’s let people see your performance that evening…and by the way, P.J., when Paul introduces you and says you’re a “good mate” of The Beatles, the others nod enthusiastically. Rarely have I seen The Beatles endorse someone so heartily. You can tell they genuinely like you! 

Kessler: So after “Around The Beatles,” you stayed in England for a couple of weeks and made a record. What record was it?

Proby: The record I did was called “Hold Me.” It was an old Dick Haymes record from the 1940s, which I jazzed up to sound like a Beatles song. I was teaching it to this little girl named Millie, who was with me on that Beatles TV special. And the producer of the show, Jack Good, heard it. He came over and said, “My God, that’s wonderful!”

I laughed and said, “I don’t think it’ll ever be a hit.”

But he said, “We’re going in tomorrow and we’re going to record it.” And sure enough, the next day, we went and recorded it at Decca Records.

 

Kessler: So, on “Hold Me,” you exhibit a real “Mersey Beat” sound, and you even play harmonica just like John! What happened next?

Proby: Well, my time in England was up, so I went back to America…to Hollywood, where I had a record contract with Liberty Records. But before I left England, I told Decca Records, “Don’t release ‘Hold Me.’ I’ll go back to Liberty Records and I’ll get a release, and then you can release it. They had me signed to Decca, and I hadn’t gotten a release from my American record company yet.

Well, I was back in Hollywood when I got a call from Martin Davis – who wanted to manage me – asking me to come back to London for a performance at the Royal Albert Hall. “Your song is at Number Three!” they said. That’s when I knew I had to go talk to the folks at Liberty.

That afternoon, I went down to Al Bennett’s office at Liberty Records on Sunset Boulevard, and I said, “Al, you know, you don’t use me as a singer very much. Why don’t you let me go? I’m moving to England now.” Well, I could see from the look on his face that he might have some idea what was going on. So, I admitted, “Look, I have a record out over there.”

And Al Bennett said, “Oh, I know.” On his desk, there was a copy of Billboard magazine.

Bennett said, “Jim (that’s what my friends call me), what do you think I am, an old country hick or something?! I ain’t gonna let you go. You’re Number Three in the charts!” And he motioned to another man in the room before adding, “You know my lawyer here, Cy Zucker, don’t you? Well, he and I are suing your ass off and signing you back to Liberty Records. You can’t just go around signing contracts with different companies like you’re changing socks! You signed a contract with Decca while you were signed to Liberty! We’re going to sue you!” He paused for a moment and added. “But after we sue you, we’re going to take you out for a steak and lobster dinner. And then you can have our rooms at the Picadilly Hotel in London. You can have the whole third floor! Because you’re Number Three in the charts, and we’re part of it!”

Kessler: 1964 was an exciting year for you! But Liberty Records or no Liberty Records, you went back to London and stayed there. Throughout 1965, you became close friends with John and Cynthia Lennon.

Proby: Yeah, John and I hung out together a lot. Lots of times on a Saturday, I’d go have dinner with John at his house outside of London, and his wife, Cynthia, found out that I grew up in Texas. So, she would cook me fried chicken like they do down South and everything. Cooked me all kinds of grits and that kind of stuff. And I taught John to drink Jack Daniels whisky…and we drank it! I’d bring four or five bottles every time I visited.

One Saturday, I showed up at John’s house, and I was pouring the drinks out, and he said, “Not for me, not for me.”

I said, “What do you mean, not for you?”

John said, “I’m on the peace weed now.”

“Oh,” I said, “you mean marijuana?”

And he said, “Yeah.” Then, he started rolling a joint, but it looked like a cigar. It looked like a Havana…that’s how loose and big and fat it was. And I burst out laughing and said, “John, you’re going to burn your eyebrows off!!! Let me show you how to roll a joint.”

He said, “Oh, this is okay.” And he lit it and really almost burned his eyebrows off! I guess he ordinarily had someone to do that for him. So, I taught him how to roll a joint.

Kessler: By this time, you had a house in London, didn’t you? I’ve read that John and lots of other notables spent a great deal of time there.

Proby: Yeah, back then, there were no clubs or pubs open really late. I mean, in those days, you didn’t go to the clubs until the television went off at 11.00 p.m. When the stations signed off, they played, “God Save The Queen.” You stood up, saluted, and then went out clubbing. John and I mainly went to the Ad Lib. But it – and most places – closed down at midnight. That’s only an hour of drinking! So, we’d all go back to my house.

My house became the club! I had this big wet bar, and I drank a lot like nobody’s business! There were hundreds of people there…when Cynthia would get a bit tired, John would say to his driver, “You better take her home and then come back for me.” And the next thing we knew, there was the milkman!

Kessler: Well, suffice it to say, you became such good friends with John and Paul that you asked them to write you a song. In July 1965, they gave you “That Means A Lot.”

Kessler: In 1964 and early 1965, you were a big sensation in England, touring from place to place doing an incredible act that was admittedly sexy. The P.J. Proby act that you believe Tom Jones later copied, right? I mean Adam Faith called you “undiluted sex” and said you were “definitely the most impressive of all American rockers to come over to [England].”

Proby: Yeah, Tom had just put his first record out, “It’s Not Unusual.” And at that same time, all of a sudden, I had become very popular in England. I mean, yeah, I had hit records and everything, and I was asked to go on tour with Cilla Black.

Well, Tom Jones’ manager went to the producer of the show that Cilla and I were doing and said, “I’ll give you $25,000 to put Tom on in P.J.’s place.” But Lew Grade and Bernie Delfont – who ran the entertainment industry in England – said, “Oh no, we won’t do that! P.J.’s got a following.” And as I said, Tom had only had one record at that point.

But this woman named Mary Whitehouse on the British Morals Committee said, “P.J.’s an American not a British performer! He’ll do something to get himself into my bad books. We’ll find something.” And she was determined to get Grade and Delfont to ban me.

Well, I was in Croydon and Luton in January of 1965. And in the middle of my act. I slid across the stage, doing knee slides, in these velvet stage clothes, and the pants split – frayed, really – at the knees. Well, Mary Whitehouse made it seem like it was between my legs and everything. She made it seem like everything was showing when it was only my knees. I couldn’t believe it!

Of course, right away, it was all over the news. But I told the press, “Look every Saturday when your boys play football, you can see knees! I’m only showing my knees, right?”

But they weren’t buying it. The reporters said, “Mary Whitehouse said you were showing much more than that. We have to stop our children from coming to see your shows!” And long story, short, I got banned from theatres…and later, the BBC (after I had a hit with Billy Cotton, Jr.).

Kessler: Well, that’s a huge shame because you were very popular. And as I understand it, this “pants episode” virtually stopped your live career. After that happened, you could only perform in cabarets. To see just how popular you were and to understand exactly what transpired, let’s take a look at you performing on stage in England, in 1965. This video focuses on Mary Whitehouse’s crusade and on what really happened on the stage in Croydon and Luton:

Kessler: So, P.J., what would you like people to remember about you and your career in England in the 1960s?

Proby: Well, I’d like for them to know just one thing, really: that I never split my pants on purpose. Look, they split because they were just “stage pants,” like a costume. They were velvet, and they were bell bottoms. I was one of the first ever to have bell bottoms, and they didn’t make them “bell enough.” And they were too tight.

But when they split, they split at the knees, never up! I wasn’t trying to show something on stage. Believe me, nothing showed down near my knees. I wish I could brag like that, but I wasn’t that well-endowed!!

I want people to know I wasn’t trying to do anything like that. My stage act was suggestive, like Elvis and like Michael Jackson later, but it wasn’t indecent. It wasn’t like that.

Kessler: Well, despite what happened, P.J., you had another hit song that I remember quite well because I hail from the place that you’re singing about: Louisiana! In 1967, you had a hit with “Niki Hoeky” that everyone in this “Cajun Land” loved! Let’s end with that great song…and with admiration for your determination to keep recording and performing, no matter what.

Learn more here about P.J. Proby.

-Jude Southerland Kessler

Photo: P.J. Proby, 1965 (courtesy of the author)