In 1982, when I was nineteen, I briefly worked at CBS London Studios, in Whitfield Street, as trainee sound engineer. During that time I first met the fabulous Hazel O’Connor, who became a close friend for many years. We shared many adventures. This three-part article recalls just a few.
For a fuller taste perhaps also read these articles:
In 1985 I was twenty-two, living in London, working as a freelance sound engineer, clubbing almost all the time, and aspiring to be a professional musician…
During the 1990s I lived in Brighton, in East Sussex.
One day, in the blustery rainy English springtime of about 1995, I was striding along Brighton’s seafront promenade, when all of a sudden I heard someone calling my name from just behind me. I turned on my heels and there were two old friends, Sally-Ann and Hazel. I hadn’t heard from or seen either in perhaps six or seven years.
It turned out that Sally was also now living in Brighton, and Hazel was just there for a week or so, visiting. Around that time, maybe a year or so later, for a short while, Sally was renting a room in the Brighton home of another old friend of ours, the truly larger-than-life Liverpudlian, Joe McGann. A warm-hearted gentle-giant-of-a-man, who, amongst many talents, was a successful actor. I say amongst many talents because one of his friends coined Joe’s private nickname: ‘Encyclopedia McGannica’ — simply because, in a very humble, charming and extremely eloquent way, he seemed to know everything about everything, be able to quote lines from poems or literature or films ad nauseam, and could do almost anything you could think of really well. In that respect, in terms of memory, intelligence, skillset, and communication ability, Joe reminded me of Stephen Fry. Joe had actually produced some demos for me and my songwriting partner, Jaime Petrie, during the 1980s, so I knew him to be a fabulous all-round musician — a guitar player, singer and songwriter. Yes, Joe was indeed, to say the very least, a complex man, and by his own admission, he suffered from bouts of what he himself referred to as ‘Black Dog’ — debilitating depressive dark moods, which, unfortunately, at times spilt over, derailing his plans and relationships.
Joe McGann
Joe’s home in Brighton — which he shared with his girlfriend at the time, the gorgeously fabulous, generous and kind (especially to me in a time of need) and super talented successful Scottish actress, Julie Graham (“Jools”) — was known locally as ‘The Pink House’ — a beautiful stylish (in particular thanks to Jools’s amazing taste in and talent for interior design) four or five-storey Georgian townhouse almost right in Brighton’s city centre, painted (obviously) pink.
Joe & Jools
For a while, The Pink House became a regular haunt of mine. There were regular once or twice-a-month gatherings of a small quite tight group of friends, all mostly living locally (or temporary guests at The Pink House), all creative, many very musically talented. There were artists, writers, DJs, musicians, actors, local socialites, fashion folk, tree surgeons, and Diva the Dog. One musician in particular became a good friend and has made quite a name for himself as a jazz saxophonist, the incredibly talented, Julian Nicholas (and I plan to write a post about him one of these days).
Diva and Jools, on their way home to The Pink House, Brighton.
These evenings at The Pink House were really quite something. Anyone who has ever been in a room with more than two successful super-talented competitive actors (Jools and Joe, at a bare minimum) will know exactly what I mean. The comical sparring for the centre of attention and laughs was at times simply preposterous. I would often laugh so hard that my ribs would hurt. And, at some point, there was always a guitar being played with maybe some percussion or a saxophone, and of course singing. I recall, on a few occasions, Joe and Hazel (and sometimes also Sally-Anne) would sing some Irish folk song together, either acapella or with Joe strumming an acoustic, it was so fabulous, like an Irish late-night pub lock-in. I guess these gatherings went on for maybe two possibly three years. Sometimes the gathering would dress up a little and decamp for decadent soirees in the private cocktail bar (and beyond) of a local boutique hotel, Blanch House, founded and furbished by two of our friends, Amanda Blanch and Chris Edwards (oh, and by the way, at one point I lived at Blanch House, but that’s totally another story…). During these Pink/Blanch House times, I reconnected with Sally-Ann and with Hazel — who was now living in County Wicklow in Ireland but visited Brighton and the UK often.
Jazz saxophonist Julian Nicholas (right) and me, attempt cool and sophisticated in Blanch House’s prestigious private cocktail bar…
…whilst, unruffled, Sally-Anne Cooper, always naturally cool and sophisticated, observes us ruefully...
By then, so the mid-to-late-90’s, and I mean this in a totally respectful and complimentary way, Hazel had almost totally reinvented herself, as more or less an independent grassroots cottage industry. There was no big record company money behind her. It was all DIY, homegrown, and quite often everything was paid for on Hazel’s groaning credit card. Although she was technically still under some recording contract obligations and limitations and was still deeply embroiled in more than one court case with record companies and industry individuals, Hazel had found ways to skirt around all of this and survive as a touring musical artist, paying for her own recording costs, owning her own masters and publishing rights (more or less), and selling her own product (CDs, T-Shirts and other merchandise) at her shows. She had a very small entourage of musicians and management, who, when on tour, all wore more than one hat… it was all hands on deck, and everyone had to muck in and get their hands dirty.
During the seven years or so since I’d last seen Haz (and I’ve decided to just do this in very broad brush strokes because there is so much already online about all this), she’d been inaccurately diagnosed with skin cancer and split with her husband, which in combination had contributed to her spontaneous decision to leave L.A. and move to Ireland. At some point, in County Wicklow (just south of Dublin), she’d bought at auction for next to nothing a quite small dilapidated house, with a very leaky roof, a bit of land, no electricity, and (if memory serves) a well. This became both her safe haven and ground control for many years to come. I spent time there with Hazel, and, well, the simplest way to say it is that part of Ireland is stunning, truly magical.
Hazel had teamed up with a manager, Maureen ‘Mo’ Simpson and a harpist, Cormac de Barra. Mo was basically everything — manager, A&R, publicist, PR, booking agent, confidante, driver… you name it, Mo did it. Cormac, well, Cormac is a super talented, super positive, very gregarious, friendly, happy-go-lucky close friend of Hazel’s. To give you some idea of just how good Cormac is as a harpist, he was (not sure if he still is) the Irish state’s go-to harpist for official state occasions — he’s good!
Hazel, with Cormac, came up with a musical show called Beyond The Breaking Glass, which was essentially Hazel telling her life story.
Eventually, in about 2000 I think, Hazel recorded an album of songs from this show. I would say, from what I observed, Cormac listened and helped Hazel realise her musical vision. He truly was awe-inspiringly talented as a harpist, yet he was also very humble and did not seem to attempt to hijack or substantially rework or alter Hazel’s ideas — as I say he just aided her in developing and realising them.
Cormac de Barra
To promote the album Mo booked tours of the show around the UK and parts of Europe, mainly focussing on Germany and Holland. For the tours, Hazel brought onboard other musicians, in particular, a percussionist named Mario N'Goma, and sometimes a bassist and guitarist. However, the mainstay touring core was a trio: Hazel (lead vocal), Cormac (harp and backing vocals), and Mario (percussion).
Mario N'Goma
Also from time to time, Hazel would front a full rock band (minimum backline being drums, bass, guitar, and backing vocals) and play some of her past material and some of her favourite covers. Hazel’s backing band for this were The Subterraneans.
Hazel O'Connor & The Subterraneans
On tour, Hazel would also take a friend of hers, Vi (pronounced ‘Vee’), who would focus on doing Hazel’s stage lighting for her, and also set up a shop in the venue, and then after the show sell her merchandise, and quite often she would drive too…
Hazel had a network of close friends and trusted super-fans, all over the UK, Germany, Holland, France etc, where she would stay during the tours. Very rarely did she stay in hotels or B&Bs, and if she did they were low-budget.
At this time, during the late 90s, and early 00s, I ran a small recording studio in Brighton (amongst other things I was doing remixes — I’ll write another post about this separately).
My studio in Brighton circa 2002.
I was also doing live sound in a handful of venues in Brighton, and I ran my own regular singer-songwriter night. During the summers I’d do some work at festivals around the UK, doing live sound and some stage management. I even did a stint doing some festival production with a small Brighton-based company doing bar logistics… if you never thought about this, this is where the lion’s share of the financial profit of a festival comes from — booze! And the amount of cash that goes over the festival bar’s counters is immense — and organised criminals know this, so a key focus of the logistics was about how to avoid getting robbed by pros! It was a crazy, but totally another story!
Flyer from my Brighton-based songwriter’s night — A-Live Lounge.
At some point, Hazel asked me if I would come on tour with her. Like everyone else who toured with her my job title/role was basically multitasking. Driving. Overseeing the technical set-up, roadie for the get-in eg unload, sound checks and doing live sound. Doing live recordings of some of the shows. Roadie after the gig, eg tear down and pack up. I said yes.
In the end, I went on two tours with Hazel, both in the UK, Ireland, Germany, Holland and (I think) France and Italy too. I recorded many of her shows, some of these recordings Hazel released on albums. Much of the tours are just a blur now… a lot of driving, motorway conversations, a lot of sleeping on people’s floors or sofas, late nights (more accurately early mornings) almost every day, loads of joints, laughter, practical jokes, dozens of venues, packs of beer, festivals, more beer, more jokes, more driving, stuffy car motorway farts/fart denial, tents, rolling tobacco, Rizzlas, scruffy caravans, flooded tents, Whisky, cheap hotels, impractical jokes, arguments, various and multiple on tour musician shenanigans (what happens on tour, stays on tour — just use your imagination and you won’t be far off), motorway food, hangovers, even cheaper B&Bs, vodka and cranberry juice… Oh, and when I say ‘driving’, I think I should mention, that this wasn’t fancy tour buses or fully-kitted mobile homes, nope, just normal cars, which we drove ourselves, packed to the gunwales with musical instruments and bags, and us… and this was all pre-GPS… it was road maps, and road signs, and directions scrawled on bits of paper…
Hazel doing an aftershow meet and greet at (I think) The Komedia, in Brighton.
Needless to say, these tours were intense. Quite often afterwards I’d need several weeks to fully recover. Not only were they fun and quite exciting, but also gruelling and very stressful. A big part of the stress was around the finances — Hazel (who was quite often paying the costs on her maxed-out credit card) was lucky if she broke even, and the meet and greet after the show, where she sold her CDs and merch and signed autographs etc, was the crucial financial make-or-break moment. If that part of the evening didn’t go smoothly, or if there had been some onstage tension between Hazel and a musician, if they hadn’t played what Hazel wanted them to play, or implied that she (Hazel) had missed a cue not them… well, it could quite often spill over and erupt… tempers would flare, there would be brief but devastating diva-like outbursts and this tension, well, it could be brutal… but somehow, the next day the show had to be back on the road, and onto the next city…
By this time Hazel had been on or off the road for more than ten years. When she was off the road she was in recording studios, or acting in a theatre play, or playing some part in a film or TV show. She worked a lot and had pretty much perfected the art of live music performance. She knew how to read and work a crowd. She knew which songs would work at a particular show and which ones wouldn’t. She knew how to shape a song and a show. She knew how to work with musicians. And she knew how to present herself in different ways for differing audiences and situations. She was relaxed and confident on stage. Even though she was always striving to do better, and although she constantly worked at it, I’d say by then, by the late 90s/early 00s, she’d mastered her craft. She knew what she wanted. She knew how to achieve it. She was driven. She’d also figured out how to pay all her musicians and crew and at least survive financially herself as an independent musician. Believe me, that in itself is quite an accomplishment! And although (like everyone) she had her bad days (some very bad), generally speaking, Hazel had fun whilst she was doing all this, she was good company. All of this, in combination, made working with Haz all the more interesting and enjoyable. I personally learned so much from her and am very grateful to her for the experiences we shared.
Below is a YouTube video of one of Hazel’s live performances with The Subterraneans, filmed in Brighton in 2004. It’s not the best video! The lip sync is terrible. It’s also not a super fantastic version of this song, it’s ok, but not great, I’ve seen Hazel perform it much better.
However, for me it captures something essential about Hazel. To begin with she shares a story with her audience, gives them a glimpse into her world, and then uses one of her songs to illustrate her point of view. She’s not trying to make a point, a statement, she’s simply sharing her point of view (or at least that is how I personally interpert this). She was always attempting to connect with her audience, on a really personal, human, down-to-earth level — sharing.
This particular song, “If Only”, was included in the “Breaking Glass” film soundtrack, and, notably, was used over the film’s end credits. So it was a song written before Hazel became famous. And the lyrics — at least in my opinion — goes a long way to explain Hazel’s drive and outlook... what for to live a life full of regrets… “if only I’d actually done that, instead of just dreaming about it…” That’s how Hazel was — including all the mistakes and blunders that came with that kind of “I’m doing this, no matter what” type determination.
Some people (many journalists) have and still do interpet Hazel’s approach to life as being egotistical, self-centred, and rash. Whatever! Frankly this kind of over simplified interpretation never seems to acknowledge the huge amount of sacrifice a creative life on the road requires.
I’m not going to attempt to analyse Hazel’s life-choices or get into the psychology of what makes a famous star. For me actions speak louder than words, and I would say Hazel’s incredible story coupled with what she has achieved regardless of hardships is evidence enough a life well lived on a path less trodden.
I think what I remember the most is that Hazel seemed to have small pockets of diehard fans everywhere — although some of these small pockets were quite big, for example, in Coventry, her home town, there were much more than five hundred people in the audience and they all seemed to know all the words to all the songs. They also seemed to be from more than one generation. By then Hazel was easily in her forties, yet there were some much younger people in the crowd.
In Brighton Hazel had somehow seemed to have become a gay icon, for both gay men and gay women, and I remember that on one of the tours she played at The Sanctuary in Hove, which was a predominantly female gay venue, and also at Brighton Pride festival live event (in Preston Park), as one of the headline acts — they loved her!
Brighton is also a good example of how masterful, versatile and diverse Hazel had become. I remember that in one short burst, maybe during four or five days, she played three gigs in and around the city.
She performed her kind of cabaret-style Beyond The Breaking Glass stage show (with just herself, Cormac and Mario on stage) at The Komedia (which was set up in a seated theatre-style configuration).
She did an intimate unplugged acoustic gig at The Sanctuary in Hove (which was a café and could probably only take fifty or sixty people maximum), and then a full-on punk rock/moshpit rock band performance at a huge nightclub venue called the Concorde 2.
Similar thing at festivals, I remember at Glastonbury Hazel performed a rock/punk rock set with a full band, The Subterraneans, on the Avalon stage, which is quite big, and I’m guessing there were at least one thousand people, of all ages, in the entire audience enclosure (photos below). Hazel also performed her Beyond The Breaking Glass stage show in the Theatre and Circus area. And then late at night she and Cormac could be found stage and backstage hoping around the site, perhaps on an acoustic stage in The Green Fields, or in some secret backstage bar, doing impromptu unplugged performances.
Oh, and as an aside, I’ve just been looking through old photos of that time, and I’m just reminded that at these festivals I saw some of the most funny and ridiculous things I’ve ever encountered.
At one rainy muddy Glasto I remember walking by an area early one morning that had flooded during the night and seeing an airbed begin to float out of a tent with a drunk unconscious guy still sleeping on it snug in his sleeping bag.
At the same flooded Glasto, again early morning, some very exhausted and hungover production crew from one performance area decided to improvise and use a ‘sludge muncher’ (a mini-tanker with a long tube and vacuum pump, used for draining the shit from festival-site toilets) to drain the mud from the floor of their performance area. In their tired hungover stupors they got the controls of the pump reversed and manged to cover the whole area with liquid shit from the tanker! Imagine explaining that to your boss!
Doing the Avalon Stage load-in (Glastonbury 2003 I think).
Soundcheck, Avalon Stage (2003 I think)
Me doing Hazel’s sound, Avalon Stage (2003 I think)
Blurry shots of Hazel’s Avalon Stage gig (2003 I think)
Glastonbury (2003 I think), post-Avalon Stage show (from back left) Cormac, Vi, Mo, Hazel, Me, Australian guest didgeridoo player, I think named Phillip Jackson.
The Subterraneans and me (second left) at Glastonbury Festival (2003 I think)
Haz and I chatting at Glasto (her body language says she doesn’t believe me, lol)
Backstage Glastonbury, very late-night blur… I think, on the left, it’s the incredible Nemo Jones from Faithless on guitar, and the other guitar player is Lamb’s guitar tech.
Hidden Heart
At some point in 2004 or 2005, Hazel decided she wanted to record an album, and she had also found a way to do this with an independent London-based record label. She wanted Martin Rushent to produce it, and she asked me if I wanted to tag along with her to Upper Basildon in Berkshire to visit Martin at his home, so she could talk it all through. I didn’t have to think too much, I just said yes.
I hadn’t seen Martin since the mid-80s, and to be frank, as far as I knew, for quite some time, he’d kind of disappeared almost entirely off the map. To be clear about this, Martin had been one of the most famous most sought-after producers in the world, he was a millionaire. Somehow, in 2004/5, he was none of those things anymore. He’d had a really rough ride and almost lost everything (close to the point of bankruptcy, I think) — including his wife, his country manor/recording complex, and (he said) his mind. He’d had a total mental health burn-out, and for several years found it almost impossible to concentrate or focus long enough to be able to successfully produce recordings.
Somehow, gradually, he got himself back together and he had begun to claw his way back into recording and producing. Now, in 2004, he had a new wife, with whom he had a young daughter, and he had a new recording studio, and as it turned out, it was in his home…
When Hazel and I (and I think Mo) arrived, Martin was in his dressing gown and nothing else. He didn’t look healthy. He looked very out of shape — flabby, pale studio-tanned, with extreme neck wattle. Last I’d seen him, well, he was robust — slender but with an almost bull-like stature. I was a bit taken aback. The house was smallish, with standard young-kid-in-residence-type chaos. Martin seemed to be a bit all over the place, very mad professor-ish, a bit agitated and didn’t seem to notice or care that whilst he was dashing here and there, around the open plan kitchen-dinning area, making tea, and offering us biscuits, his manly bits were quite often on show.
Hazel seemed to be able to reign him in a little, calm him down and get him to focus on the topic at hand — her album, Martin producing it. Martin asked if we’d like a tour of his new studio, and of course, we did! During the 80s I’d been at his outstandingly amazing state-of-the-art studio, Genetic, in a barn on the grounds of his country manor house. Anyway, I was expecting him to get dressed and we’d get in the car and drive to his studio complex, however, Martin just told us to follow him upstairs, to one of the bedrooms, and there it was… his home studio! It was tiny, with room for maybe only three people, four at a squeeze.
Anyway, typical of the man, this studio was packed with technology and even though it was compact, it could do almost anything, in fact, Martin said it was more than ten times as powerful and much more capable than Genetic.
Martin agreed to produce Hazel’s 2005 album ‘Hidden Heart’. I’m not sure how much was pre-produced and/or recorded by him at his home studio, I think that a lot of it was recorded in a studio in Ireland, close to Hazel’s home.
Martin Rushent’s home studio.
“Will You?”
I’ve been avoiding writing this section. It’s so complex, the, let’s say, legal history of probably Hazel's most famous and iconic UK top-ten hit song, from 1981 — “Will You?”
However, you cannot write about Hazel O’Connor and not mention this song! Not unless you want to completely ignore the elephant in the room.
At the end of the day, I’m probably just muddying the waters by proffering yet another opinion, because that’s all I will do here, give my opinion. Unfortunately, there is nothing finite about this topic — it’s complex, it’s nuanced, it’s multilayered, and there’s much more than two sides to the tale… The topic has been mentioned in several books,1 and dozens (if not hundreds) of articles, and the legal cases have been cited in several other music business lawsuits and legal journals. It’s a well-documented, well-explored topic.
From the off, I’ll say two things, two parts of my opinion.
The law is an ass.
Hazel wrote this song, on her own.
I suppose there are three separate strands to the legal debacles relating to “Will You?”.
Firstly, there is the fact that Hazel’s original record company, Albion Records, withheld all her royalties (including from “Will You?”) for years. As far as I know at least twenty years (but you need to fact that yourselves). This is significant because just on the sales of “Will You?” alone Hazel would have been (should have been) a millionaire.
Secondly, someone else, another musician, namely the saxophonist, Wesley Magoogan, claimed after the event (so after the song had been released and become a hit record), that his his contribution to the song (his sax solo) was so significant that he should be credited as a co-songwriter and thus receive 50% (I think) of any royalties.
And thirdly, “Will You?” was used without permission several times, for example, and most notably for a very famous TV ad.
As I’ve said, all of this is well-documented in the public domain, so I’m not going to go into full details or a blow-by-blow account of what went down.
Regarding Albion records, in my humble opinion, they are fuckers, and even though Hazel eventually came to a settlement with them, one which didn’t really favour Hazel all that well. By finding unscrupulous loopholes in the law they still managed to avoid paying her the lion’s share of what she was owed. After paying her legal costs, well, I imagine Hazel was wondering to herself (quite understandably) if it was worth all of those years and years of litigation to get the pittance she eventually received. It should have been a million or two or more, in the end, she just received some thousands, and not hundreds of.
Regarding the illegal use of her song, the same thing — in the end, she received next to nothing. If memory serves she was awarded approximately £250,000 in damages on the TV ad that illegally used “Will You?” However, after legal costs, I think she walked away with less than £20,000 (check it, I could have this wrong).
I think the moral of this part of the story is simple. If you want to make big money in the music industry… become a lawyer.
Both the debacle with Albion Records and the illegal use of her material are pretty straightforward. It was unscrupulous people trying (quite successfully) to rip Hazel off. It’s commonplace. There are literally thousands of similar legal cases in the history of the music industry.
So lastly we come to the sax solo on “Will You?” by Wesley Magoogan. There’s no subtle or tactful way to say this, however, it needs to be mentioned — so that there are no elephants in the room at all — that years later Wesley lost his fingers in an accident and therefore he can no longer play the sax. It’s worth pausing for thought here. He was an incredibly talented and gifted saxophonist, and it’s probably hard to imagine a more cruel twist of fate in this particular story. Only real life can come up with scripts like that.
So, as a musician and a songwriter, this particular debacle (which is rare, and not all commonplace) interests me more than the others (which, as I’ve said, are more common-or-garden, and perhaps easier to follow and understand). The Wesley Magoogan sax solo debacle is much more complex, it’s not straightforward, and it’s quite easy to flip one’s opinion about this from one day to the next. I personally can see this situation from both sides.
To cut to the chase, Wesley Magoogan eventually won the court case and is credited as a co-songwriter. I have no idea if he ever received any royalties or in what amounts or percentages.
Although of course, this whole thing was about money, it also wasn’t about money. It’s morally about who wrote this song and what legally constitutes writing a song (and perhaps the divide between these two positions)… and that’s where it gets interesting, and this is where I restate my opinion.
The law is an ass.
Hazel wrote this song, on her own.
The law is an ass because this case was not about plagiarism or appropriation. Hazel wrote all of the lyrics. Hazel composed the original chord structure that the song is arranged around. Hazel wrote the vocal melody. She didn’t steal or borrow any of it. No one helped her. And, as far as I know, she wrote “Will You?” before she ever met Wesley Magoogan. So she didn’t plagiarise anything. Neither did she appropriate melodic, harmonic or lyrical ideas from a musical collaborator. To my knowledge, none of this has ever been contested. So a judge did not have to decide if Hazel wrote the original song or not, that was clear from the word go.
The case was about two questions.
Firstly it was about whether that particular song, whether that specific recording of that particular song, would have become an iconic top ten UK hit WITHOUT Wesley Magoogan’s sax solo?
And, secondly, if it was decided that NO, without that sax solo, there would have been no hit record, then should Magoogan’s contribution be considered as collaboration, should he be credited as a co-songwriter?
From my point of view, once it had been established that Hazel, unaided, wrote the original lyric, composed the original melody, and established the chord progression upon which the song’s harmony was based, then any subsequent decisions about whether the song would have been a hit or not without Magoogan’s sax solo are entirely subjective, it’s all simply just opinion. The same goes for him being a collaborator/co-writer. Once you’ve established that the song was written prior to Magoogan ever hearing it and that he was a paid session musician (doing his job) then any decision about whether he should be credited as a co-writer with rights to royalties, well, any decision is purely subjective, it’s just opinion.
For me, an acid test of a good completed song is if you can just grab an acoustic guitar, strum the chords, and sing the lyric with its topline melody. If a song can stand up on its own like this, just one guitar and one voice, if it’s totally recognisable and people’s ears prick up, then it’s a good song. “Will You?” is a BRILLIANT song! It aces the one guitar/one voice acid test. You don’t notice there is no sax solo! You’re not left thinking “Well, what that song needs, to make it great, is a two-minute sax solo!” “Will You?” works brilliantly with or without a fucking sax! Full stop!
However, there’s more to it than this. There are some quite often misinterpreted, or simply avoided, facts…
To be clear Wesley Magoogan’s sax solo on “Will You?” is phenomenal. It’s probably easily in the top twenty all-time best pop song sax solos, along with “Baker Street” and “Born To Run”.
So there is no question that Wesley’s contribution was integral to the eventual success and acclaim of the song. But is that really the point?
There are situations where a songwriter comes into a recording studio with a half-hatched embryonic core of an idea for a song… imagine the situation… a few lyrics, a rough melody idea, a chord or two… And then, in that recording studio environment, the song gets developed and fleshed out with other musicians and perhaps a producer… This is a very straightforward collaboration scenario. It would be clear that other musicians and/or the producer contributed to the song’s development, and that they should and would legally become collaborative songwriters and entitled to a credit and royalties. As stated, it’s straightforward. However, as will be seen this is NOT what happened with “Will You?”!
In 1981, when Hazel wrote and then recorded “Will You?”, she was under contract as a recording artist and songwriter to Albion Records, and she’d been leased to A&M Records for one year to film and record the soundtrack for the film ‘Breaking Glass’. “Will You?” was one of the songs from the film, it was on the soundtrack album. Later it was chosen as one of the songs to be released as a single. As already mentioned Hazel wrote the entire lyric, melody and chord sequences for “Will You?” herself, alone.
A&M Records hired Tony Visconti to produce the recording, he produced “Will You?”.
A&M Records auditioned, contracted, hired and paid a band for Hazel for the film, the soundtrack album, and the subsequent tour.
So Wesley Magoogan was a contracted fully paid session musician (and one not directly chosen by Hazel). Hazel didn’t try to cheat him. He was hired to do a job, and he did the job (very well) and got paid.
But here’s the thing… Tony Visconti made a production decision specifically regarding “Will You?” which, at the time, Hazel did not question. Keep clearly in mind that Hazel was, at the time, unknown and Visconti was already a very successful world-famous producer, working with the likes of Bowie nonetheless!
During the “Will You?” recording session, so that Visconti could hear what might be possible saxophone-wise, Wesley had live-rehearsed and blown over more or less the recording of the whole song. Whilst listening back to this sax test run, Visconti had an idea! He decided to double the length of the song, to repeat the whole song format twice — the first time with Hazel singing and with, in just a few select places, small short tasteful sax breaks punctuating the vocal lyric, then, after a kind of mock ending and a big drum fill the whole song would repeat again, but this time with no vocal at all, and instead just a long soaring lamentful sax solo. This was NOT Magoogan’s idea, he didn’t suggest it (it was Visconti’s idea) but he was up for doing this. It was his job. He was a high-calibre saxophonist so he was able to come up with and deliver a superb solo, which, as a contracted session musician, he was paid for (did I mention that already?).
What had been a short two-minute or so song now turned into a four-and-half-minute song, with a two-minute plus sax solo in the second half.
It was the famous producer, Tony Visconti’s decision, and Hazel O’Connor, the then-unknown singer, dutifully went along with it. Hazel didn’t write the sax solo tune, however, Mcgoogan based his solo on Hazel’s vocal melody and the song’s harmony (both of which came originally from Hazel).
So… should Hazel have immediately recognised this, prior to the release of the film, prior to the song becoming a hit, prior to her becoming famous, should she have divined using a crystal ball that maybe it would have been a righteous fair thing to do to offer Mcgoogan a credit and some royalties for his epic sax solo? Perhaps, maybe it would have been prudent, yes, hindsight is a wonderful thing… But should she have been made obligated legally to do so?!? And so it goes, around and around…
Oh, and there may be some reading this that ask the question: “Well if Tony Visconti came up with the idea for the hit song’s arrangement and the legendary sax solo, why wasn’t he suing Hazel for a credit as a songwriter and for songwriting royalties?”
Good point. I don’t know the specific details of Visconti’s production contract for “Will You?”, however, it’s more or less standard practice that a producer gets some small percentage of songwriting publishing royalties as standard (maybe specifically only from the version they recorded, or maybe also for any subsequent version of the song — that all depends on the details of a specific contract), and is credited as a ‘producer’ because an intrinsic part of the producer’s role is to help the recording artist mould and shape the original song. It’s an integral aspect of their job, that’s what producers do, that’s why they are hired. And that’s why most producers get paid a ‘production advance’ before they start working. It’s a non-returnable advance payment paid from recoupable recording and publishing royalties.
So if you want to make big money in the music industry become a lawyer… or a producer! (Probably that’s not so true today, I don’t really know anymore, however, I do notice that many songs released nowadays have multiple producer credits, it’s quite normal to see four or five or more ‘producers’ credited — which, just by deduction alone, means they have to split the production fees more ways, meaning less money.)
So I suppose what this whole “Will You?” sax solo debacle really comes down to is — should contracted session musicians not only be paid but also receive writing credit and royalties when they play a great solo? If you think the answer is yes, then what should happen to a contracted session musician if they play a shit solo? Not get paid, maybe? The fact is that legally they get paid either way!
Whatever I say, I will always be accused of being biased, because I’m a friend of Hazel’s. However, I assure you that what I have written here is based on my personal experience and observation as a musician and a songwriter. Over the last forty years or so I’ve heard this whole topic discussed (by Hazel and so many others) inside out a thousand times... Frankly, if I never hear about it or think about it ever again, well, that’s totally ok with me. However, as I’ve said, in my humble opinion — as a musician and songwriter — the law is a (subjective) ass, and Hazel (yep, she’s my friend, so what?) originally wrote this song, on her own (objective fact).
Sacred Ritual
I remember one of the, maybe the last times I spent time with Hazel alone, just her and I. I’m guessing it was maybe 2010. Haz had been in Brighton, staying at her friend Vicky’s house (where she always stayed in Brighton). She was in between tour dates or had some other business to attend to in the UK. She called me and said she was thinking of driving to Climping Beach and going for a long walk, and asked did I want to join her. I said, sure, great, let’s do that.
We arrived at Climping at low tide. It was brisk, to say the least, windy and wet, but we were well-dressed for a hike and spent an hour or two just walking and chatting on the sand flats.
As we headed back to the car, with a gleeful glint in her eye, Haz asked me a time-honoured question, one I’d heard her utter dozens of times before, a private invite to one of her most sacred rituals…
“Do you wanna go with me and get a big pot of tea and some scrummy scones? I know a great little place nearby, and it’s fab. They do the works. Homemade scones, warm from the oven. Local butter. Homemade strawberry jam and fresh local clotted cream.”
Haz always knew a great little place nearby, and, of course, I wanted.
To remind, Hazel was hospitalised early in 2022 with a severe brain haemorrhage.
Below is a video from last September showing Hazel (left) doing music therapy with some close friends. The first song is Hazel’s hit song “Will You”.
From the video description: “Hazel has begun the next chapter in her recovery by moving back home and is facing up to a new challenge of navigating her way around with her limited but greatly improved mobility, with the fantastic, continued support of her friends. She is approaching the new stage with her usual determination and resilience. She continues with her physiotherapy, speech therapy and most importantly, her music therapy. She really looks forward to her weekly session with Benoît and was so happy to have Sarah and Clare there this last weekend to join in with the singing 🎶❤️ Onwards and upwards Hazel ❤️”
Here below is a link to an official fan-led GoFundMe page for Hazel’s recovery:
For Vinyl Enthusiasts. I have two collectable signed seven-inch vinyl singles of Hazel’s. One is from 1985 “Push and Shove” (featured and pictured earlier in this article), which has a very faded message and signature (‘To Nic, on our single, love Haz x’); and the other is from 1984, Hazel’s single “Don’t Touch Me” produced by the late-great Martin Rushent and Hazel’s brother, Neil O’Connor, at Martin’s Genetic Studios (I was there during part of the recording). The cover photography is by our friend, the great photographer, David Levine, and the promo video featured a cameo appearance by George Michael.
The signing reads:
‘To Nick - “the serious” Physique love, luck and a naughty kiss Haz x’
In return for a direct donation to Help Hazel get back on the road, I will gladly give away these singles. The minimum suggested donation per single is £250. If you’re interested you can contact me directly about this via the substack app or email: nicbriscoe@substack.com
And, again, for all MusicStackers, please consider restacking this post, for my pal, Haz.
Are you at a point with a song or a musical project where moving forward means making an important decision, yet one you cannot quite pinpoint?
If you’re in that position — where the issue isn’t lack of ideas, but knowing what actually matters — that’s exactly the kind of work I do in my Musical Crossroads Sessions.
N.B. There is a chapter in a book (from 1986 by Simon Garfield, in the UK titled Expensive Habits: the dark side of the music industry, and in the USA titled Money for nothing: greed and exploitation in the music industry) which covers Hazel and her deal with Albion Records, the “Will You” debacle etc. I don’t know if the book is still in print. I read it years ago (like late 80s) and I remember that Hazel was not 100% in agreement with either how she had been portrayed, nor the ‘facts’ presented by Garfield.
Very interesting post, Nic. It's easy to see why Hazel had such a following and such a devoted group of friends. There is the undeniable talent and creativity, but she also just seems so full of life and has a lot of charisma. I can see why you enjoyed hanging out with and going on tour with her.
With regard to the legal stuff, overall I agree with your take except with regards to the Magoogan case. My own very personal view is that the sax solo was superfluous on "Will You?" and I would've preferred the song without it and focused on her singing, but that's just my own personal preference.
I also wonder, had the case been brought in the US rather than the UK, if she would have won. Coming up with musical solos seems to be part of what hired musicians are expected to do and not considered part of songwriting. But then I'm not sure that isn't the case in the UK as well.
I also wonder, did John Taylor provide evidence for Magoogan? (I note in the wiki entry on the song that he considered it the emotional peak of the show when playing in the band.)
And last, I wonder if there are class issues? What is Wesley's background? (I've read a lot about the impact of class issues in the UK and know what a big difference they can make, especially in the arts and the judicial system! Justice is definitely not blind with most of the judges coming from upper middle and upper class backgrounds.)
Very interesting post, Nic. It's easy to see why Hazel had such a following and such a devoted group of friends. There is the undeniable talent and creativity, but she also just seems so full of life and has a lot of charisma. I can see why you enjoyed hanging out with and going on tour with her.
With regard to the legal stuff, overall I agree with your take except with regards to the Magoogan case. My own very personal view is that the sax solo was superfluous on "Will You?" and I would've preferred the song without it and focused on her singing, but that's just my own personal preference.
I also wonder, had the case been brought in the US rather than the UK, if she would have won. Coming up with musical solos seems to be part of what hired musicians are expected to do and not considered part of songwriting. But then I'm not sure that isn't the case in the UK as well.
I also wonder, did John Taylor provide evidence for Magoogan? (I note in the wiki entry on the song that he considered it the emotional peak of the show when playing in the band.)
And last, I wonder if there are class issues? What is Wesley's background? (I've read a lot about the impact of class issues in the UK and know what a big difference they can make, especially in the arts and the judicial system! Justice is definitely not blind with most of the judges coming from upper middle and upper class backgrounds.)
Oh that party was anything but stayed and beige 😂😂 yikes! Go find my From Trad Wife to rock chick series, I think the KJ story is in part 2!