Tim Hughes talks to legendary ‘two hit wonder’, John Otway

He describes himself with a smile as Rock’s Greatest Failure.

But, even though he may only have two hit singles under his belt, John Otway has something that few of his early contemporaries can only dream of – longevity.

It is 38 years since the charismatic punk-rocker scored a Number 27 hit with Really Free in 1977, yet he has barely had a day off since – the slim and razor-witted singer-songwriter playing 150 gigs a year across the country – and beyond (an annual trip to Dunkirk being just one Otway tradition).

On Saturday he returns to the place it all started – Oxford – to celebrate his birthday. The show takes place at the suitably sweaty and claustrophobic Wheatsheaf pub and the name? Cor Baby... I’m 63!

“I had one blip of momentary success and have been gigging ever since,” he says, cheerfully. “I had a taste of stardom in the 70s and have kept looking back!”

Hailing from Aylesbury, Otway believed his fate as a musician had been mapped out for him when, on a visit to a fortune teller, he was told he was destined to be a star, finding fame along with a blond musician. In an attempt to fulfil the prophesy, he set about trying to find one, eventually teaming up with fair-haired Buckinghamshire alternative-rocker Wild Willy Barrett.

His career took off during his residency at Oxford’s former Oranges and Lemons pub (now the Angel and Greyhound) in St Clement’s.

“It started in Oxford in 1976 and ’77,” he says. “The Beatles had the Star Club in Hamburg, and we had the Oranges and Lemons, where we learned our craft. I did a whole year there playing every week.”

His career bumped along with a succession of flops. Yet, unperturbed by the lack of commercial success, his fans stayed loyal, following him to watch his dynamic, and occasionally dangerous, stage shows, enlivened by stage dives from speaker stacks and somersaults from his trusty step ladder – which remains a prop to this day.

In 1998, 4,000 people packed the Royal Albert Hall for a show which featured Otway’s first musical outlet, the Aylesbury Youth Orchestra. And when, on his 50th birthday, he set out to shake off the mantle of ‘one hit wonder’ by getting another single into the charts, they rallied round, snapping up multiple copies of his tune Bunsen Burner — a song inspired by his daughter’s chemistry homework,and featuring samples from The Trammps’ classic Disco Inferno. The record featured 900 fans on backing vocals.

He recalls: “I had got to the point where things were never going to happen. But then the winds of opportunity blew in. I have taken my fans with me on this adventure so asked them if they fancied the big one: to get back in the charts.”

And did he ever imagine, back in the 70s, that he’d still be going at 63? “I did, but no one else did. My mum continued to say I should get a proper job. Now I’m two years from retirement, so I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

His career is a catalogue of pitfalls and setbacks. So how has he managed to make it work? “By capitalising on those pitfalls, bouncing back and writing a book about how much I’ve screwed up.”

There was also a film, which was premiered at the the Odeon in Leicester Square and screened in Cannes during the resort’s glamorous film festival. “I called it Otway the Movie: Rock and Roll’s Greatest Failure,” he says.

“When I had my first hit in 1977, I took out a pension fund, and when I was 60 it came to fruition so I used the money to pay for a huge poster that hung on the front of the Odeon in Leicester Square. Then we took it to Cannes.

“A readers’ poll in The Guardian named it the second best film of 2013 – after Gravity!”

And, despite what some might say has been a career of resting on his laurels (or, until his second hit, just a singular ‘laurel’) he has ambitions, though perhaps not a third hit.

“There will be an album next year,” he says. “It will be my first album of new songs for 10 years. Of course there have also been all the compilations – the Greatest Hits, Best of..., Second Best Of..., The Ultimate... and The Penultimate...

“I’m the patron saint of losers!”

Humour and witty wordplay remain a big part of his show. “Somebody commented that often humour gets better with age but music tends to deteriorate – so I’ll stick with making people laugh. Some things do get harder though. Three years ago I started finding it hard to do a handstand – though I’m now walking on both hands again.”

His show wouldn’t be possible without the support of long-suffering roadie David Crabtree – known to all as Deadly (his nickname referencing his prowess on the football field rather than any onstage incidents with faulty electric cabling). The Oxford lad is frequently the butt of Otway’s jokes, but gives as good as he takes.

“He has a great knack for comic timing,” says John. “I’ll point at him on stage and people laugh!

“I’ve always abused roadies, thrown guitars at them and smacked them around the head. I used to kick them off the stage – but some are better at eliciting sympathy from the audience, and Deadly has sympathy heading towards him in waves.”

So what can fans expect from Saturday’s show? Well, the same thing they’ve been getting for the past four decades,” he deadpans. “And because there are only two hits, I also have to play the B-sides.”

And the stepladder? “Oh yes. Most people get boring but I refuse,” he says. “I always entertain myself, and if I am entertaining myself there’s a chance that it will entertain someone else.

“I’m just there to amuse myself!”

“I have been hurt,” he confesses. “Once, in Camden Palace, I dived head first from a 12ft-high PA column and rolled on to my back. I lost all the feeling from my neck down for what felt like a lifetime, but was probably only a few seconds. The audience went bananas though. One half of my brain was going ‘what a stupid thing to do’ and the other half was thinking ‘that was pretty neat!’. Now I’m more sensible and only dive off eight-foot columns!”

GO ALONG
John Otway plays The Wheatsheaf in Oxford on Saturday. Tickets from wegottickets.com