My return to the fold was neither easy nor entirely joyful at first, but at least Roger had come over from America to work with me at the studio we’d found in the Thames Valley, where the showbiz fraternity are generally in control of all that goes on, and what generally passes through. I was also told that the Godfather in the territory was Jon’s friend George Harrison, although he’d rather not be – the Godfather, that is! So I suppose what I’m really telling you is that Jon has a friend called George Harrison – but, then, you already know that – from the time he came on stage with us in Australia and I introduced him as ‘Arnold from Liverpool’!
Anyway, Roger and I were into our second day of delightful work, when I suddenly had this most horrendous awareness, the most disgusting feeling I’ve had in my entire life, as it suddenly dawned on me that I was not really being invited back into the band: I was being auditioned for it!
I took a deep breath, found some focus, and said to myself, ‘Oh, my God! I’m being auditioned by the love of my life, Deep Purple, to see if I can still hack it with my writing skills and vocals.’ The reason they’d sent Roger over for two days in a studio, was to check me out, which meant that, although I thought I was back in the band, I wasn’t yet!
I put the thought to one side as effectively as possible, drank some wine with Roger and let the realisation sink in: that Ritchie didn’t want me back but the influential record company BMG did! In fact, work on a new record had already started with Joe Lynn Turner, but it was not considered acceptable, so everybody was now waiting to see what I’d do with the tapes already made. Shut away in the temporary studio, I felt surrounded by feelings of uncertainty, a lack of drive and general ‘anti’ atmosphere, largely caused by a guitar player who basically didn’t want me around. It was a delicate situation, which in the early stages of our reunion showed we were not on the same wavelength!
Been so many words, so much to say
Words are not enough to keep the guns at bay
Some live in fear some do not
Some gamble everything on who gets the final shot
The Battle Rages On was recorded at the Bearsville Studios in New York, the Red Rooster Studio in Tutzing, Munich, and the Greg Rike facility in Orlando, Florida (now GRP Studios). Afterwards, Pat Regan and Roger mixed it at the Sound on Sound Studios in New York, and the record company was pleased with what we delivered: ‘Lick It Up’, ‘Anya’, ‘Talk About Love’, ‘Ramshackle Man’, ‘A Twist in the Tale’, ‘Nasty Piece of Work’, ‘Solitaire’ and ‘One Man’s Meat’, ‘The Battle Rages On’, and the one Ritchie didn’t like (or, at least, preferred a different version of), ‘Time to Kill’.
It’s difficult to give the different genres of today’s music a place in the charts against times past, when indicators of success (or not) were dealt with by the likes of the NME, Melody Maker and Sounds. So much is different now –which is not to criticise – and that includes referencing to a greater number of charts and catering for the wider choices of music being made: indie, punk, funk, jazz, jazz funk, Prog, country, folk, reggae, MOR, heavy rock and so forth. There’s just so much going on out there that it’s hard to know how something like The Battle Rages On really performed, in the way we could chart such things yesteryear. However, despite the band problems already mentioned, and others to come, the album and CD went out on 26 July 1993 with the former reaching No. 21 in the UK, No. 5 in Japan and No. 13 in Germany; and, although it performed lower down in the States (No. 192), the single reached No. 22 on Billboard’s Mainstream Rock chart.
In the usual way of things, Bruce’s office confirmed a Battle Rages On tour, to begin in Europe, with Colin Hart as the tour manager (Al Dutton came along with me), and we travelled to Bregenz, Austria, on Saturday, 18 September 1993, where we rehearsed for three days. It was then on to Rome for another day of rehearsal, before we opened at Palaghiaccio on the 24th.
| September | |
| 24th | Palaghiaccio |
| 25th | Palasport, Forli, Italy |
| 26th | Palatrussardi, Milan, Italy |
| 27th | Palasport, Turin, Italy |
| 29th | Stadthalle, Villach, Austria |
| October | |
| 1st | Sporthalle, Schwerin, Germany |
| 2nd | Ostseehalle, Kiel, Germany |
| 3rd | Festhalle, Frankfurt, Germany |
| 4th | Grugahalle, Essen, Germany |
| 6th | Weser-Ems-Halle, Oldenburg, Germany |
And so the tour progressed with Berlin (7th), Hamburg (8th), Cologne (10th), Memmingen (11th), Nuremberg (13th), Munich (14th), Mannheim, Stuttgart, and on into France; Nancy (18th), Paris (19th); and into Switzerland for shows in Zurich and Lausanne (21st/22nd), Barcelona in Spain (and San Sebastian) on 23rd and 24th; finishing the month with shows in Austria, Czechoslovakia and Poland, where we played the Zabrze Sport Hall in Katowice on Sunday, 31st October.
The tour was going well, with virtual or complete sell-outs wherever we went (including the bigger venues – around 13, 000 at Stuttgart); while we mixed old with the new, including ‘Highway Star’, ‘Space Truckin’’, ‘Anyone’s Daughter’, ‘Strange Kind of Woman’, ‘Speed King’, ‘Twist in the Tale’, ‘Child in Time’, ‘Smoke on the Water’, ‘Anya’ and ‘The Battle Rages On’. Otherwise, some of the usual medleys were thrown in, which the fans love, and we even did ‘Hush’ a few times.
Sitting back for a few moments of reflection, I’m reminded of that tongue-in-cheek comment I made earlier, when putting the pros and cons of possibly moving from Gillan to Deep Purple. And, if you recall, one of the cons to be considered was why I’d want to move from a successful band, with its current and contained management set-up, to a ‘cast of thousands’, underpinning what was Deep Purple, plus I was also reflective of how other such major names also worked and travelled at the time. Well, I don’t doubt you thought my earlier analysis way over the top; but, if you still have a copy of the Battle Rages On tour brochure, check out the inside back cover, because I count ‘those to blame’ at more than sixty, and that excludes the band, which was still at five!
We were still at five because there were tensions as the tour moved from venue to venue, with some niggles being obvious to the audience. For example, there was the occasion when Ritchie went into a Jesus Christ riff during ‘Black Night’, and, when I started to join in, he stopped in his tracks. Or for ‘Lazy’, when, once again, I went to pick up on his riff, he stopped again!
I struggled to keep control when it was needed, and didn’t quite manage on every occasion; but against this there were many moments of high drama but with fine musicianship from him (and the band, for that matter) – including in the show, when he swapped his guitar, trashed the replacement and threw it into the audience – before he altered his touch on ‘Anyone’s Daughter’, which was sublime.
So how can I rationalise this ‘thing’, this polarisation of Ritchie and me, with Jon, Ian and Roger stuck in the middle? I suppose the best I can come up with is to say, ‘Imagine a beautiful meal, with a plate of food in front of you, and that all that is on the plate looks good, and works well in culinary terms. Then consider that same plate of beautiful food as being Deep Purple, except two of the essential ingredients, Ritchie and I, are missing, because we’ve decided our role is better served by being a knife and fork, on either side of the plate?
Try as I may, I cannot claim to understand how Ritchie reasons things out, or how he arrives at his conclusions. I have certain ideas, but out of respect they must remain outside the public domain, as one of those things to leave alone, at least until he and I are dead.
And so the shows continued to critical musical acclaim, with the problems kept mostly to ourselves, as we went into Belgium to play Forest National in Brussels on 2 November and Rotterdam (Ahoy) on the 3rd. It was then back to England for the Manchester Apollo on the 5th, the Brixton Academy, London, on the 7th and 8th and the ‘big one’ at the NEC, Birmingham, on the 9th.
Ritchie had, by now, destroyed his visa, saying that he’d not be going to Japan at the end of the month, while pre-NEC the situation had become so volatile that nobody could predict what would happen at Birmingham. And I’ll give some context to this by saying that, for the earlier Manchester show, our roadies were trying to make sure we arrived on stage without taking the same route to it! Still, the show was fine, as was Brixton, particularly the second one, where Ritchie was great, and I met up with some old buddies afterwards, including Dean Howard.
However, in Birmingham, it was all to end. And, about that, stories vary as to precisely what happened, depending on whether you were on stage, in the audience or in the wings. In the bigger picture, what had been arranged (and agreed by everybody) was that this show would actually be filmed. (I know – ‘in the bigger picture’, ‘filmed’! So sorry!). The director was Hugh Symonds, the producer would be Lana Topham, and little could they have predicted what would happen to them and the project!
To begin with, the atmosphere backstage was vile, and Ritchie had locked himself in his room with a notice on the door saying, ‘The Badger’s Den’. To be clear, he’d also signed up to the idea of the cameras, so, not surprisingly, there were loads of guys wandering around. Indeed, everywhere you turned, there seemed to be someone with a camera, or pulling a cable across the floor. Well, from my point of view, the days when an artist can demand to have the stage all to himself or herself went out of the window years ago. All that precious-behaviour stuff – I mean, there’s always going to be somebody under your feet, and you just have to learn to live with it. Crucially, there’s absolutely no point in letting something like that, something you’d wanted anyway, spoil your performance. But Ritchie did!
And so the lights went down, Ian Paice got things under way, and then, with Jon and Roger, they cranked up ‘Highway Star’, and I went on.
I was at the mike, and realised that something wasn’t right. Jon was keeping things going, and then I turned to see that Ritchie wasn’t with us! I mean, when one-fifth of the band is not with you, it does sound a bit lame, particularly with the opening song. And so it was decision time: either we stop the show, or count in and get on with it, which is what I did. When we reached the solo, the guitarist appeared, played a few runs, and wandered back off.
I’m told a beaker of water flew by me just after the congas, and we went into ‘Black Night’ in much the same situation, i. e. no guitar player.
Backstage, it seems Ritchie had taken exception to a particular cameraman, and had thrown a bucket of water over him. He then found another bucket and went for a second guy who was also filming, but when the water was chucked this time, the cameraman was not where Ritchie thought he was, and, instead, it went all over my missus, as one thing led to another.
So I was on stage singing, and thinking, What’s going on back there? Finally, I put the mike down and headed off the stage, where I found B in tears. Having arrived at some kind of understanding of the situation, I said, ‘I am now going to kill him, probably with a very slow bullet called my right arm!’
B’s reaction was, well, shall we say, brilliantly composed, as she said, ‘Don’t let it get to you. Just calm down and do a great show!’ And she said it many times: ‘Just do a great show!’ In fact, she was warning me with such power that she was actually threatening me. Bless her!
I was soon back on stage with the band, and the show continued as the guitar player knocked the songs about, ending early, taking lumps out, and generally leaving me stranded whenever possible. At the end, Ian Paice flew some signed drum skins into the bemused audience, and shouted, ‘We owe you a hell of a lot!’
I cannot begin to explain what Ritchie had in mind that night, whether he was aware of what was going on, or whether he was just hyper-mind-fucked and super-tense, as he can be. Could the sight of some people with cameras really have upset him that much, or was it premeditated for his own inexplicable reason? I’m told (through Darker Than Blue) that, around midnight, the ‘Badger’s Den’ door opened, and he was seen being led out by a girl holding a lead, with a dog collar round his neck! He was dressed in his long, black, leather coat, plus a witch’s hat, and his roadie’s witch mask, which was sometimes used by his assistant on stage! Well that’s what I’ve been told, and, if it’s true, it is also very sad.
In many ways, I felt that until this moment, there were times when despite the tensions, the five of us were as near as could be to the spirit of Deep Purple, and yet, quite contrary to that, I remember writing in my notebook that ‘With Ritchie Blackmore, Deep Purple has no future.’
Such is the frustration and dilemma behind, and within, the band’s chemistry that I always try to find answers, and will continue to do so until the end. So I shall always look back and think of the young guitar player who’d been on the road with Screaming Lord Sutch, and who’d put up with Gene Vincent. Then to the man who would later discover a fascination for the paranormal (not black magic, but communication with the spirits), who wanted to borrow Roger’s crucifix one night, and when it was refused, he axed the door down, to ask again! And then, of course, there’s that more populist side to Ritchie, which is about a musician who loves his football – and particularly when it’s played to his ‘rules of engagement’ – and the affection he has for animals, particularly his cats! And finally (for now) I suspect we’re all wondering where his interest in medieval music might be taking him, having been told that he’d like to have a house that fronts onto a cobbled street, and that his fascination for castles is undiminished and probably growing!
A video called Come Hell or High Water was made from the NEC show, although without the incident included, and it showcases ‘Highway Star’, ‘Black Night, ‘Talk About Love’, ‘A Twist in the Tale’, ‘Perfect Strangers’, ‘Beethoven’, ‘Knocking at Your Back Door’, ‘Anyone’s Daughter’, ‘Child in Time’, ‘Anya’, ‘The Battle Rages On’, ‘Lazy’, ‘Space Truckin’’, ‘Woman from Tokyo’, ‘Paint it Black’ and ‘Smoke on the Water’.
BMG also brought out an album produced by Pat Regan, with recordings from the Hanns–Martin–Schleve–Hall in the Stuttgart show (16 October) and the NEC performance of 9 November. The album went Gold and Platinum variously between 1995 and 2013, although I actually vetoed one of the releases from the NEC in 2007.
Ritchie stayed with the band for the shows in Copenhagen, Denmark (12th), Stockholm, Sweden (13th) and Oslo, Norway (14th/15th), before making his final show with us at Helsingfors ishall (Helsinki Ice Hall), Helsinki, Finland, on the 17 November. It was all over.
Every so often, a project comes along that is different, and a sometimes welcome distraction from the cut and thrust of situations like Deep Purple. And one such opportunity came about in June 1992, when Minos EMI and Phil Banfield arranged for me to go to Greece with B, to make a record with one of the major artists in that territory, Michalis Rakintzis. In fact, the idea first cropped up in February 1991, but other things prevented progress then, including (quite possibly) that I wanted to pass on it, because it’s not the sort of ‘thing’ I normally do. However, the artist has one platinum album to his name and two gold, so the label felt really enthusiastic about a collaboration; and a few months later I thought, Well, why not?
On 10 June 1992, B and I flew out, and were put up at the Hilton Hotel for the first night, and then moved to a suite at the Grand Chalet Hotel. The next day we went to the Sierra Studios in Athens, and recorded an album, with me singing on three tracks: ‘Getaway’, ‘My Heart Remains the Same’ and ‘I Think I Know’ (‘Getaway’ was also released as a single).
Later on, I did three shows with Michalis at Thessaloniki, Patras and Athens, and the promoters gave it their all in terms of advertising, TV and radio. It was really Michalis’s gig, but I went on stage with him for ‘Getaway’, ‘Smoke on the Water’, ‘When a Blind Man Cries’, ‘Black Night’ and ‘Woman from Tokyo’.
They had ping-pong balls made with our names on them for throwing into the audience, and the whole experience was great. Michalis Rakintzis loves rock ’n’ roll!
A particular highlight of the visit was the occasion we did a video on an island somewhere, and it meant a hectic two to three days working with a producer whose name eludes me for the moment. However, what I do remember is that the man was so incredibly bossy, to the extent he must have thought he was Cecil B. deMille by the way he went about his work. I mean, he was even bossing Michalis around, shouting, ‘Stand there, stand there,’ as we struggled on a rooftop location in the wilting sun. And all the time it was, ‘You, you, you, move over there. You, wait. You, stand still!’
It was horrendous, and there were moments when I thought, This is fucking ridiculous, and I’ve had enough of this crap. So, after the first shoot, I drifted off to find a moment of sanity, and wandered into a store, where my eyes fell on a replica Colt .38 – with bullets! And then I thought, I am going to kill that director with this, and joyfully handed over the money, making sure the bullets were blanks but also wishing to be assured that the confrontation would be noisy enough to bring him down to earth a bit – or clip his wings, if you prefer!
Back on our rooftop location, I concealed the weapon within the black clothing we had to wear, while he had us prancing around like prats, in touch with the gods and all that nonsense, until finally we came to a dramatic bit, a sort of tableau scene, where there was much posing to be done.
Now, I truly appreciate what the guy was trying to do, but right now he was so up my fucking nose that I had to sometimes remind myself that they were giving us a great time, and I was being well paid. Unfortunately, it always came back to the fact that he was still pissing me off, and then, to make things worse, I just hated watching him shove my new mate, Michalis, around. Left with no option, I decided, ‘Enough is enough’ and I am now going to shoot this director, execute him publicly on camera! But I changed my mind, and it’s hard to really know why. So let’s just agree he’d better not upset me like that again!