Steve Harley – a genuine great, gone far far far too soon

I have probably interviewed him at least half a dozen times over the years, maybe even nine or ten, but Steve was always an interview you looked forward to. An ex-journalist himself, Steve always knew what was required. He was an interviewee that always had something interesting to say. And he was always friendly and engaging.

In fact, a week or two after one interview maybe 15 years ago, he phoned me back. He had got to the venue early and did I fancy early supper and a drink? I will always regret the fact that I was actually in the south of France by then. He laughed. “It would have been nice”, he remarked. Annoyingly, I also missed his Chichester gig a fair few years ago.

But my point is that he took an interest in the person he was speaking to. We chatted all sorts over the years – simply because he was someone who liked to chat and always had something to say. He had opinions; he was a thinker; you sensed that he wanted you to challenge him in interview.

The huge sadness is that we have lost him far, far too soon at the age of 73. Adding to the poignancy is that just two years ago, he told me how very special it had been to get back to work post-pandemic.

Best known as frontman of British rock band Cockney Rebel, Steve’s best-known song was Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me) which went to number one in the charts in 1975. I first saw him in concert maybe a dozen years later in Reading, and it was obvious which song was going to be the encore. And how he milked it, feigning reluctance to play it, pretending he had to be dragged back on stage to do it. It was all good humoured. He respected his audiences far, far too much not to give them what they wanted.

I last spoke to Steve two years ago this month, just as he was preparing to play Worthing and Portsmouth. He was celebrating his 48th year in music in 2022 and was resuming, post-pandemic, concerts around the world. He told me that playing live was more than a job; it was almost his life’s blood.

Music was absolutely his first love: “We see the world and play to great audiences; how good is that! I see great cities and their galleries and museums in our down-time, beautiful landscapes from the Arctic Circle to the Mediterranean coast, all in my life as a touring musician. It’s still the greatest job on earth!”

Inevitably, after the longest break in his career, Steve had been absolutely delighted to be back out on the road again the autumn before, after all the lockdowns. He told me he had gone back on stage with a rather different appreciation of what music meant to people.

Just how much music matters is one of the things that the pandemic helped underline, Steve believed. The pandemic was tough. It was also boring, he said.

“My struggle is that I always carry the burden of commitment on my shoulders. I am not a believer in astrology, but there is maybe something about being Pisces. It is the last of the 12 signs and they carry all the others.

“It is the same with my Pisces friends. They are committed to people. When I work with the rock band, it is 15 people that work plus the theatre staff. When I work with the acoustic shows, it is ten people that work plus the staff.

“And I was concerned that all these people lost their income. Some of them had a little bit of self-employed government help, but it was really difficult for people. I was really concerned that some people would be giving in or giving up, but they somehow got through and it is great to be back together again.

“It is the longest break I have ever had, but the point is that it was a mystery. It was an enforced break because there was poison in the air. There was a virus in the air. It was a different feeling.”

And there was a different feeling coming back: “I am a 70s pop star. In those days it was all limousines and no connection with the audience. We were above it all. It was distanced. A star was a star. But I have learnt to drop my guard and re-lax a lot more. I have done so many podcasts and Zooms. We did a Zoom for 250 fans around the world. It was professionally run for me. 50 questions were accepted that I went through, and it lasted two hours.

“And the thing I learnt that night and I saw it at a gig was just how much the music meant to them. I didn’t know. I just looked out the other night at 10,000 people in the dark in Faversham, and I said it – and there was just this huge cheer. There was this real feeling of connection.

“We do what we do. I do what I do. I come across on stage as Mr Approachable. I am very, very relaxed. I will tell an anecdote or two. I know what I am doing, and it is very natural. But it is job. And I love my job. It is a real privilege to have an audience after all these years. And it is a privilege to be able to provide the work for these wonderful guys that I play with. But it is a job. I go off stage and we go to a hotel and the next day we do it all again to a different audience.”

But Steve felt differently now, he said, speaking in 2022: “I have learnt through the Zoom calls how many gigs people will come to. There are people that I don’t know who will come to five or six or seven gigs a year of mine – and also 20 other gigs.”

And that is precious. If someone approaches Steve now, he said, and says they remember seeing him at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1975, Steve’s response will be: “Tell me about it. I want to know more. Frankly, I will have forgotten. I have done 10,000 gigs since then. But I will want to know more…”

And it could all have been so different. Journalism’s loss was music’s gain when Steve finally gave up the job’s he’d always dreamt of.

“I was a journalist after I left school”, Steve recalled. “Journalism what I was always going to do from the age of 12. I was indentured at the end of 68 and I did that for four years. I really enjoyed it. I was trained by Essex County Newspapers in Colchester and for the last year I went down to London. I was on the East London Advertiser for a year. It was fantastic... you are talking Krayland here!

“But I had a guitar when I was 11. It was a Christmas present and I loved it. I learnt a little bit as a youngster and I was writing songs when I was still a junior reporter. I left to go on the dole and to try to be a pop star. Actually, Richard Madeley got my job as a junior when I left. I didn’t know that until he told me in front of millions on his show!”

Steve’s ambitions fairly soon started to be realised. He’d played maybe only five shows before EMI signed him and Cockney Rebel for a three-album deal.

“These days you just wouldn’t get that”, he told me in 2016. “They built us and supported us and they let us mature and develop. That doesn’t happen now. They get to put a single out and test the temperature of the water. If there is a sniff of success, they will get an album released, but that needs to score or they won’t get a second.”