On a trek he’s dubbed the Even Grumpier Old Rock Star tour, keyboard wiz Rick Wakeman (the Strawbs, Yes) returns with what a press release describes as a program packed with “virtuosic piano performances and hilarious anecdotes” inspired by his 50-plus-year career.
The show’s repertoire will range from Wakeman’s solo works and his stints with prog rockers Yes through to his early days as a session musician playing keyboards on such classics as David Bowie’s “Life on Mars?” Wakeman will also deliver unique interpretations of Beatles’ hits and many more memorable tunes, adapted for the grand piano.
The Even Grumpier Old Rock Star tour stops at Kent Stage on Sunday, March 13. During a phone interview from a San Francisco tour stop, Wakeman talked about returning to touring, and he discussed that infamous acceptance speech he gave when Yes was inducted into the Rock Hall in 2017.
You’ve been playing live for decades now. What was it like when things came to a halt in 2020?
It was horrible. That’s being really honest. I’m a people person. And so it’s very difficult for me. I get my energy from people and being on stage and interacting with everybody. And to have that taken away, I didn’t realize how much it would affect me. I got really depressed about it. I used to go out walking with my rescue dogs, and I used to pour my heart out to the dogs. I watched musician friends around me and people in the music business also go into depression, and some of them caught COVID and passed away. I found it very difficult. I came out for the first time last October and did 13 shows with serious restrictions. But it was so lovely. At the first show, I walked out and — I didn’t plan to say this — said, “Look. There’s people.” It just meant so much. I did a short Christmas tour at home. Now, I’m out doing these shows. It’s great to be out playing again.
In 2019, you embarked on the Grumpy Old Rock Star tour. Talk about what that trek was like and what made you want to follow it up with the Even Grumpier Old Rock Star Tour?
There was a program in England called Grumpy Old Men, which is where a lot of middle-aged men moaned about things. It was very funny. It was huge in the UK. They did a few series. I’m the only person who was in every single program. I got known as the “Grumpy Old Man.” And because of the music thing, it turned into “Grumpy Old Rock Star.” In England, that’s what I’m known as, like it or not. I do radio, TV and corporate events. I always get introduced that way. That’s what it is. My road manager here loved the name and said we have to use that for the tour name. And now because of all the cancellations and restrictions, it’s become the Even Grumpier Old Rock Star Tour.
I know you originally thought you’d become a classical pianist. What set you down the path of becoming a progressive rock keyboard wiz instead?
A few things really. Yes, it’s true. When I started my degree, it was as a classical pianist. I played so many different kinds of music and didn’t want to attach myself to one type of music. Also, good classical players attach themselves to one or two composers. I couldn’t do that. I was also very interested in mixing different types of music, which I felt hadn’t been done as I would do it. When bands used orchestras to enhance the music, that’s what it was. It was a bit of enhancement to the music and the musicians were separate. I thought they should all be one. That was always something I wanted to see if I could make work. Over the years, I’ve had the opportunities to do it, which is great. When I was in school, I was doing sessions, which, at the time, was really looked down upon by the college. Now, it’s really encouraged. They opened their doors to music, and it’s been incredible. It was a natural path I went down.
Talk about joining Yes in 1971. That must’ve been a great time to be part of that band.
It was fantastic. Yes were unique. We sort of knew where we wanted to go but had no idea of how to get there. It was a time when technology was way behind the musicians. Sometimes, we would sit in rehearsal and spend a whole day talking about what we wanted to do with a certain piece of music. We would spend hours going, “How do we do this?” A great example is what we used to call the “sparkle tape” at the beginning of Close to the Edge. That took nearly a week and a half to produce. We went out and recorded all sorts of things. Now, you can do it in ten minutes. That’s what made Yes and bands of that time so unique. That’s why they developed such unique sounds. They had to make them themselves.
You released your first solo album, The Six Wives of Henry VIII, in 1973. What was the transition to having a solo career like?
Like a lot of things, it was a bit of an accident. In November of 1971, I was in Los Angeles on my first tour with Yes. My manager said, “Jerry Moss at A&M Records wants to see you.” So we went to the lot which was Charlie Chaplin’s old studios and they had become A&M Records’ offices. Years later, I was a neighbor to Charlie in Switzerland, and we talked about that lot a lot. Jerry said, “You’re signed to us with the Strawbs. We signed you with the option that we could pick you up to make a solo record.” He asked me to make a solo record. I thought it was fantastic. On that tour, I bought a book at the Richmond, VA airport called The Private Life of Henry VIII. This was 1971 and way before Walkmans or anything like that. So when you were on tour, you either read or sobered up from the night before, or you did both. I was reading this book about the wives, and I thought how wonderfully musical it all sounded. I bought more and more books on the subject. Through 1972, I recorded the album between doing tours and doing other things.
Talk about getting inducted into the Rock Hall with Yes and what that was like. Did you even script that speech?
It was on the fly really. I was incredibly proud to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. I was really proud. I love watching awards, but what I get fed up with is all the speeches. They’re really boring. Thank heavens for people like Ricky Gervais. How many times can someone thank their mom or grandmother or the person who bought their first guitar for them? The audience knows all this anyway. All you can hear is the hum of people talking. I do a lot of standup in the UK. [Yes singer] Jon [Anderson] and [Yes guitarist] Trev[or Rabin] know that I do that. It was getting a bit boring up there, to put it bluntly And Jon said, “Go for it. Do something to liven things up.” I said, “I’m not known for comedy over here.” He said, “Someone has to do something.” I couldn’t do one of my standup routines because they’re long. So I did a couple of one-liners. People laughed, and then, I did more. Jon and Trevor were going, “Go on.” I picked out bits from routines I did. I did that for four or five minutes and came away. In no way at all was it meant to be irreverent. I was so proud of being inducted. I had some amazing emails and messages from people who said, “Thank God for that.” I never said anything degrading and would never do that. In fact, I have an ambition which will never get realized, which is to host the Rock Hall Inductions. I would love to do it with Ricky Gervais.
What kind of gear will you have on hand?
We have a nice concert grand piano, which we pick up in various places, and I take a very, very new Korg synthesizer, and I can do a few pieces on it. In between, you get a lot of ludicrous stories.
You regularly play Kent Stage. Talk about what you like about the venue?
I just like it. There are certain places you go to, and you go, “It’s good be back here.” Kent Stage is one of them. There are nice people who work there and run it. It’s really well run. It just great in so many respects. I get to see my daughter, who lives in Cleveland, and she comes up with my grandchildren. All in all, it’s a great place.
This article appears in Feb 23 – Mar 8, 2022.
