Who’s gonna play this old piano after I’m not here?

This year’s inductees into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were announced recently, and I’m pleased to see several vintage rockers finally get the nod: Joe Cocker, Bad Company, Warren Zevon, Nicky Hopkins. I first wrote about Cocker two weeks ago, and I’ll be profiling the others in the coming weeks. Today’s post is on brilliant session keyboard player Nicky Hopkins.

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There’s an important truth about many of the legendary bands whose albums are so important to us: Quite often, the music was made much more interesting and dynamic because of the contributions of incredibly talented session musicians.

To the public at large, even to many music lovers, these superb instrumentalists are mostly anonymous. Their peers in the music business know who they are — these unsung heroes who play keyboards, guitars, saxes and percussion to fill out the arrangements of songs written by the main recording artist — but the majority of the listening audience doesn’t have a clue, and perhaps doesn’t much care.

When you take a close look at the list of classic rock songs and more than 250 albums on which pianist Nicky Hopkins appeared, I’m pretty sure it’ll leave you stunned, especially if you’re a casual fan who’s never heard of Hopkins before reading this piece.

Consider these iconic artists with whom Hopkins made an impact: The Who. The Rolling Stones. The Kinks. The Beatles. John Lennon. Jeff Beck. Steve Miller Band. Ringo Starr. Joe Cocker. Jefferson Airplane. Jerry Garcia Band.

And those are just the A-list names. There’s also Donovan, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Carly Simon, Art Garfunkel, Peter Frampton, Harry Nilsson, Graham Parker, Badfinger, Cat Stevens and Jennifer Warnes, and more.

Because I’m an aficionado (read: music trivia nerd) who absorbs all sorts of information about the albums I’ve bought, I’ve been aware of Hopkins’ name since at least 1969 when it appeared on the credits of The Rolling Stones’ “Let It Bleed” LP, and I’ve made note of his musical contributions ever since. He was a “first call” keyboard man for a couple decades, and his piano solos and the recorded parts he provided were essential to countless classic tracks.

Hopkins performing at Woodstock with Jefferson Airplane

To some extent, Hopkins’ stature in the business benefited from fortunate timing. My friend Irwin Fisch, a skilled keyboard player, arranger and composer and an associate professor at New York University, explains: “In the first wave of rock in the ’50s, the songs were almost entirely blues-based, and guitar-based. The piano players just found a way to take their backgrounds in blues and jazz and fit to a guitar-based framework. But when the British Invasion bands of the ’60s, which were still mostly guitar-forward, starting writing more creatively, there was an opening for skilled piano players to invent a role and wrangle a lot of different influences.  Hopkins did that with The Stones and The Who early on. The guitar-centric industry created Nicky Hopkins; if those bands had actual piano players, we probably wouldn’t be talking about him.”

Indeed. Hopkins grew up in the Greater London area and showed remarkable potential on piano before he was five years old. He won a scholarship to the Royal Academy of London as a teen and left school at 16 to play with a number of regional British bands in the early ’60s. But he suffered from Crohn’s disease and was hospitalized for nearly two years in his late teens, undergoing a series of operations that left him in frail health for most of his life.

His precarious health left him too weak for the rigors of touring, which caused him to concentrate on session work and decline invitations to join bands that frequently went on the road. The Who, in particular, were eager to have Hopkins in their lineup after his stellar work on their “My Generation” debut LP and various singles in the mid-’60s.

“Pete Townshend told me if I ever wanted to be in a band, he wanted me to consider them first,” said Hopkins in 1972. “I wasn’t sure I was strong enough and, in the end, nothing happened, but they were probably my favorite act to work with. Their material is so strong, but it was left up to me what I played on their records. Pete Townshend would bring demos in for us to listen to, and they were incredible. Sometimes they sounded as good as the finished project. But the piano bits are basically my own.”

If you want to hear Hopkins at his best, you need look no further than “The Song is Over,” the stellar track from “Who’s Next” that ranks as one of the finest moments in The Who’s entire catalog. Seasoned keyboard man Chuck Leavell, who has recorded and toured extensively with The Rolling Stones and The Allman Brothers, said, “Nicky would come up with these little vignettes that would make you go, ‘Wow, that bit MAKES that song.'”

Said Fisch, “It’s safe to say that every pop and rock piano player owes him, and they’ll all say so. You can hear his licks, his rhythms, and his arranging in many of the piano parts conceived by most of the players who have the biggest footprints in pop and rock — Elton John, Bill Payne, Roy Bittan, Chuck Leavell, among others.”

In addition to his involvement with The Who, Hopkins participated in many sessions with The Kinks during their early heyday in the 1965-1968 period, including the hit “Sunny Afternoon” and albums like “The Kink Controversy,” “Face to Face” and “Something Else.” Kinks guitarist Dave Davies recalled, “Nicky was inspiring, and talented, but he was invisible. It’s an instinct. It’s an art form, being a good session man.”

In a more prominent way, Hopkins was featured on dozens of classic Rolling Stones recordings. That’s him doing the classically-themed piano on “She’s a Rainbow” (1967), the relentless keyboard throughout “Sympathy For the Devil” (1968), the dramatic intro to “Monkey Man” (1969), the main melody behind “Angie” (1973), and the fine piano work on “Time Waits For No One” (1974), “Fool to Cry” (1976) and “Waiting on a Friend” (1981).

Hopkins working with The Rolling Stones

“He had an intuitive feeling of where the piano should sit in the mix,” said Keith Richards. “He could do the most incredible stuff. You could’ve sworn Otis Spann was in the room, which, for an English kid in the 1960s, was absolutely amazing. I don’t think Nicky knew how good he was — his instinct for the right note at the right place. I’d have a song, half written, we’re working it up in the studio, and he comes in with a riff that changes the song. This little white kid, he was maybe 18, and he sounded like he was in Mississippi, or Chicago. So authentic.”

His dynamic fills and solos with those three bands attracted the attention of John Lennon, who invited him to play electric piano on The Beatles’ single version of “Revolution,” and Hopkins nailed it in one take. “It’s amazing how he lifted that whole track. He’s a fantastic guy.” Lennon brought him back three years later when he was recording the songs for his iconic “Imagine” album. It’s Hopkins’ piano you hear on the gorgeous ballad “Jealous Guy” as well as the rollicking “Crippled Inside” and “Oh Yoko.”

Hopkins with Lennon, 1971

The other three Beatles shared Lennon’s admiration for Hopkins’ talent. In 1973, Ringo Starr brought him in to augment the recordings of his two #1 hits, “Photograph” and “You’re Sixteen”; George Harrison tapped Hopkins for his #1 hit “Give Me Love” the same year; and much later, Paul McCartney used Hopkins on his 1989 LP “Flowers in the Dirt.”

Hopkins hanging out with Ronnie Wood and Rod Stewart, 1968

Hopkins enjoyed the session work and was honored to be asked to play with so many different acts, but he pined to be able to play on stage, so he joined the Jeff Beck Group for a spell, recording Beck’s groundbreaking debut LP “Truth” with Rod Stewart and Ron Wood, and going on a short tour, but it proved more than his health could handle. When he relocated to the Bay Area of California, where he spent much of the last half of his life, he recorded with the Jefferson Airplane on their “Volunteers” album and the Steve Miller Band for their “Brave New World” and “Your Saving Grace” LPs.

Quicksilver Messenger Service (Hopkins second from right)

He also actually became a member of Quicksilver Messenger Service for a year or so, recording and occasionally performing. He made an appearance with the Airplane on stage at Woodstock in 1969 for their set, but he pretty much resigned himself to session work from then on.

His ambitious first wife Dolly thought he was talented enough to be a star in his own right and pushed him to release two solo LPs — the 1973 disc “The Tin Man Was a Dreamer” includes the astonishing instrumental “Edward” and the equally memorable “Pig’s Boogie” — but Hopkins conceded he wasn’t really cut out for the limelight. His second wife Moira said in the 1990s, “He was a side man, not a front man. He was the wrong person to be living that sort of lifestyle. He wasn’t physically strong enough for it, and it took him to a bad place eventually.”

Partly to help ease the pain of his Crohn’s disease and other ailments, Hopkins grew susceptible to the lure of alcohol and eventually heroin, both in easy reach on the road and in the studios, and they might have killed him back in 1972 if not for jazz pianist Chick Corea. “On the day we met,” Corea recalled, “I asked him, ‘How are you?’ He replied, ‘Not so good. The doctor told me I have two weeks to live unless I quit heroin.’ I told him I was going to get him into rehab, and I probably saved his life at that moment. Nicky didn’t think it would work, but it did.”

After his recovery, Hopkins worked exclusively as a session man, playing on such albums as Carly Simon’s “No Secrets,” Peter Frampton’s “Something’s Happening,” Jennifer Warnes’ debut LP, Jerry Garcia’s “Reflections,” Rod Stewart’s “Foot Loose and Fancy Free,” Art Garfunkel’s “Breakaway,” Joe Cocker’s “I Can Stand a Little Rain,” The Who’s “By Numbers,” Donovan’s “Essence to Essence” and The Stones’ “It’s Only Rock and Roll.”

Benmont Tench, Tom Petty’s keyboard player, said of Hopkins, “I’d always pay close attention whenever I saw his name on the credits. He always brought something beautiful. He had this invaluable ability to realize where to start playing in the song.”

If you watch “The Session Man,” the Nicky Hopkins documentary now streaming on Amazon Prime Video, you’ll hear numerous musicians speaking reverentially about Hopkins’ extraordinary musical abilities.

Regarding the delicate piano part on Cocker’s hit “You Are So Beautiful,” Peter Frampton said, “It gives me goosebumps every time I hear it.”

Mike Hurst, producer on Cat Stevens’ little-known debut LP “Matthew and Son” back in 1967, had this to say about Hopkins: “With most session musicians, they come in, they do their job for three hours, and disappear. Nicky wasn’t like that. He always wanted to do another take if he felt he could make it better…even though his first take was often flawless.”

Chris Welch, writer for England’s Melody Maker music publication, wrote, “If you look at the list of songs he played on, it’s genius, absolutely genius. If you took Nicky out of the mix, the magic disappeared. He played semi-classical parts, gospel parts, blues, boogie-woogie, rock and roll. He could do it all.”

Towards the end of his life, Hopkins worked as a composer and orchestrator of film scores, with considerable success in Japan. Hopkins died in 1994, at the age of 50, in Nashville from complications resulting from intestinal surgery related to his lifelong battle with Crohn’s disease. It wasn’t until 2018 when friends and family members were able to arrange a physical tribute to Hopkins in the form of a “keyboard bench” that sits in a park near his birthplace in Perivale, a London area neighborhood.

Nicky Hopkins’ memorial “keyboard bench” in his home town

Mike Treen, a veteran TV producer who directed “The Session Man,” is a big fan. “For all my years in the business, this is the doc that I’m really proudest of,” he said. “The hard bit for us was finding the distributors, the platforms. They want films about stars, so when I mentioned Nicky Hopkins, they’d go, ‘Well, he’s not a name.’ And I’d say, ‘But that’s the point! He’s got an amazing story to tell that few people have ever heard.’ So that’s why it took us five years.”

I suppose it’s never too late to honor a man’s work, and the tardy induction of Nicky Hopkins into the R&R HOF is certainly an example of that. As you listen to the tracks on the Spotify playlist below, I urge you to pay close attention to the piano. Hopkins was, as soul singer P.P. Arnold put it, “the real deal.”

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The road is long, there are mountains in our way

I have this love-hate relationship with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

When it was first proposed in 1985, I embraced the idea. If country music and other genres can honor their pioneers and heroes, why not rock music? Over the years since, I’ve visited the museum in Cleveland four or five times and have always enjoyed the experience. But I’ve sometimes taken issue with the worthiness of some of the people selected for induction, and I’ve been miffed about bonafide candidates who have been perennially ignored for far too long.

This year’s inductees were announced this week, and I’m pleased to see several vintage rockers finally get the nod: Joe Cocker, Bad Company, Warren Zevon, Nicky Hopkins. I’ll be writing about these artists in the coming weeks, beginning today with Joe Cocker.

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In the late 1960s, when I was starting to buy albums and pay closer attention to rock music beyond just the Top 40 hit singles, I found that I didn’t like it at all when artists recorded cover versions of songs I already knew by other artists.

The first one I remember hearing, and hating, was Puerto Rican acoustic guitarist José Feliciano doing a re-interpretation of The Doors’ classic “Light My Fire.” (I eventually learned to like and admire it.) The other one that rubbed me the wrong way was Joe Cocker’s radical rearrangement of The Beatles’ “With a Little Help From My Friends.” I considered Beatles songs as sacred and couldn’t stomach anyone messing with them.

Cocker performing at Woodstock, August 1969

When the documentary film and triple album of the 1969 Woodstock Festival was released in the spring of 1970, I rather quickly had a change of heart about Cocker’s soulfully powerful version of what had been a singalong tune in its original form on the “Sgt. Pepper” album three years earlier. I happily conceded that Cocker had transformed the song into something entirely his own, something far more invigorating and vital. I was especially entranced by his visual performance of it in the movie — the frenetic stage presence, the flailing arm movements, the tie-dyed shirt and sweaty hair, and the stunning vocal delivery that alternated between plaintive and howling. I was sold.

I learned later that Paul McCartney and George Harrison had been mightily impressed by Cocker’s treatment of “With a Little Help From My Friends,” which had reached #1 on the UK charts upon its release in 1968. Said McCartney, “”it was just mind blowing, totally turning the song into a soul anthem, and I was forever grateful to him for doing that.” They took the unprecedented step of endorsing his use of Harrison’s ballad “Something” and McCartney’s rocker “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window” for his second album, “Joe Cocker!” even though The Beatles’ original versions hadn’t yet been released as part of “Abbey Road.”

“Joe Cocker!” zoomed up the charts in the US to #11, and it remains my favorite of Cocker’s 22-album catalog. In addition to the convincing Beatles covers, it also includes riveting renditions of Leon Russell’s “Delta Lady,” Bob Dylan’s “Dear Landlord,” Leonard Cohen’s “Bird on the Wire,” John Sebastian’s “Darling Be Home Soon” and the contagious “Hitchcock Railway.”

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Born in 1944 in the north central British industrial community of Sheffield, Robert John “Joe” Cocker showed an early fascination with blues and skiffle (a British variant of folk and country), and considered Ray Charles and Lonnie Donegan his early influences. At 17, he took the stage name Vance Arnold and fronted a group called The Avengers, playing mostly American blues tunes by Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker in Sheffield pubs, usually as a headliner but at least once as a warm-up act for the up-and-coming Rolling Stones.

His first attempt at fame came in 1964 when he recorded a bluesy cover of The Beatles’ “I’ll Cry Instead,” but it failed to chart, and Cocker dropped his stage name and formed Joe Cocker’s Blues Band, but that effort went nowhere as well. In 1966, he formed a partnership with guitarist/songwriter Chris Stainton and assembled an early lineup of what they called The Grease Band (inspired by a jazz musician who described a soul musician as “having a lot of grease”). They attracted the attention of producer Denny Cordell, who worked with The Moody Blues and Procol Harum, and Cordell encouraged Cocker and Stainton to relocate to London and recruit a better caliber of musicians for a new Grease Band lineup.

Cocker in 1967

By 1968, Cocker had honed his act with a regular gig at the famed Marquee Club and won a contract with Regal Zonaphone in the UK and A&M Records in the US. The debut LP includes what has become the definitive version of “Feelin’ Alright,” the classic song Dave Mason wrote for Traffic, as well as a couple Dylan tunes and some competent Cocker/Stainton originals, and it reached a respectable #35 on US album charts, even though the “With a Little Help From My Friends” single stalled here at #68.

Critics loved Cocker’s grittily authentic voice. “He has one of the best rock voices in England, and he has no inhibitions about using it,” wrote Robert Christgau in The New York Times. “Cocker is the best of the male rock interpreters, as good in his way as Janis Joplin is in hers.”

After a grueling US tour in 1969 that included the appearance at Woodstock and at other major festivals, Cocker was exhausted and eager to take a break, but another set of dates had already been booked. He chose to dissolve the Grease Band (except for Stainton) and instead enlisted Leon Russell to assemble a crackerjack lineup of more than 20 musicians, including a 10-person “soul choir” and a three-man horn section, a confederation that became known as “Mad Dogs and Englishmen.” The group performed and partied hard for their 50-date tour in the spring of 1970, offering a spirited cross-section of rock and soul music.

The subsequent live album kept Cocker’s and Russell’s names in the limelight by reaching #2 on US charts in the fall of 1970. It spawned two Top Ten singles: a reworking of “The Letter,” the 1967 #1 hit by The Box Tops, and a rollicking take on the ’50s torch song “Cry Me a River.” Things looked good on paper, but under the surface, Cocker was coming apart at the seams, drinking heavily and suffering from severe depression. He withdrew from the L.A. music scene and returned to the care of his family back in Sheffield to recuperate. In his absence, A&M released the single “High Time We Went,” which peaked at #22 in the US in 1971.

By 1972, he was back on the road, and his next LP (also entitled “Joe Cocker,” later retited “Something to Say”) offered a combination of studio and live tracks, including the aforementioned “High Time We Went,” “Pardon Me Sir” and the minor hit “Woman to Woman” (all co-written by Cocker and Stainton) and a remake of Gregg Allman’s “Midnight Rider.” When Stainton decided to retire from touring and build his own recording studio to concentrate on production, Cocker relapsed into depression and began using harder drugs, with his alcoholism continuing to bedevil him.

And yet, in 1974 he was back on top with “I Can Stand a Little Rain,” a new album that showed a lighter side of the Cocker oeuvre, particularly the Billy Preston ballad, “You Are So Beautiful,” which peaked at #5 on US charts, his biggest success yet.

Cocker and Belushi on “Saturday Night Live,” 1976

The pendulum swing of recovery and relapse was on display in 1976 when Cocker made a memorable appearance on the then-new “Saturday Night Live.” He struggled through a performance of “Feelin’ Alright” while John Belushi brazenly did his famous Joe Cocker imitation standing right next to him. Was Cocker being a good sport, or was he being ridiculed? He said years later that when he watched a tape of the show, he felt humiliated, and finally got serious about recovery, staying sober for the rest of his life.

Two positive developments occurred in 1982 that gave Cocker a renewed sense of pride. In a guest gig with the jazz group The Crusaders in 1981, he had recorded “I’m So Glad I’m Standing Here Today,” written expressly for him by Joe Sample and Will Jennings. Because it was nominated for a Grammy, he and the Crusaders were invited to perform it at the Grammys. Later that same year, Cocker teamed up with singer Jennifer Warnes to record “Up Where We Belong,” a song also co-written by Jennings, which was used as the theme song for the Richard Gere/Debra Winger film “An Officer and a Gentleman.” The song was an international #1 hit, won a Grammy for Best Pop Performance by a Duo , AND won the Best Song Oscar at the 1983 Academy Awards, where the two singers performed it together.

Cocker and Warnes sing at the Oscars, 1983

Said Warnes at the time, “I’d been a huge fan since my teens. I had a poster of him at Woodstock on my bedroom wall. I remember seeing him sing ‘I’m So Glad I’m Standing Here Today,’ and I was so moved, I was hollering out loud with joy, jumping up and down. After a difficult battle with drugs and alcohol, Joe was in total command once again. I knew at that moment that I would sing with Joe. Some people felt we were an unlikely pair to sing a duet, but I was thrilled, and I think it worked out pretty well!”

Cocker scored three more hits in the 1980s. He transformed Randy Newman’s sensually amusing song “You Can Leave Your Hat On,” which was used prominently in the film “9-1/2 Weeks” during Kim Basinger’s erotic striptease scene; he revitalized the early ’60s R&B classic “Unchain My Heart,” first made famous by his idol Ray Charles; and he reached #11 on US charts in 1989 with “When the Night Comes,” co-written by Bryan Adams and Jim Vallance.

Typically, I’m not much of a fan of live albums, but his 1990 release “Joe Cocker Live” is an impeccably performed and produced collection of Cocker’s best material from a 1989 show that reunited him with Stainton as well as The Memphis Horns.

Although he never made the US charts again after that, he released eight more LPs between 1994 and 2012, which did respectably in the UK and especially in Germany, where he has always had a huge fan base and performed there often. At the 25th anniversary of Woodstock in 1994, Cocker and Crosby, Stills and Nash were the only artists from the original festival to return, and they drew enthusiastic responses from the younger crowd.

Joe Cocker in concert, 2004

Although Cocker wrote a handful of songs during his career, the vast majority of material he recorded was written by others. Some were unknown tunes that he made famous, while many were really good covers of tunes already made famous by others (“I Heard It Through The Grapevine,” “Summer in the City,” “Watching the River Flow,” “I Put a Spell on You,” to name just a few).

In 2007, he reflected on his continued popularity. “The actual singing experience, I really do still get a buzz out of it. I treasure the performances more, I think, because you’re kind of wondering how long you’re going to be doing it, so you tend to get into it. I think that’s what’s kept me going. There are other guys who have better voices, but I’ve worked hard to keep my live shows exciting. In many respects, that’s why the fans have hung in with me. I had my rough times in the ’70s, but I always try to get wrapped up in the tunes.” 

He died in 2014 from lung cancer at age 70. Now, 11 years later, he’s belatedly joining the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I wish he was still here to see it happen.

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