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Tim Rice – My Life in Musicals

by 90 Comments

Venue:

Millennium Centre Cardiff

Date: 25/05/2025

I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for Sir Tim, as he is these days, ever since 1977 when he was part of a team who produced the first edition of The Guinness Book of British Hit Singles. I bought it on release and devoured that book. I was obviously a chart nerd just like Tim, and still have that book today, plus many later editions. He has an encyclopedic memory of chart hits, from about the mid 50s, to the late 80s, when he says he lost touch with what was going on in pop music.

This was a wonderful show, from start to finish. Two and a half hours of wonderful songs, every word written by the man sitting on a stool in the centre of the stage, tapping his feet, clapping his hands, and enjoying every single minute of it. Whether you’re a fan of musical theatre or not, you can’t deny the brilliance of most of the songs, many of which are now part of our dna, as the greatest rock and pop songs are. Don’t Cry for me Argentina, Another Suitcase in Another Hall, Jesus Christ Superstar, A Whole New World, Circle of Life, Can You Feel the Love Tonight, and many, many more. Tim and Lloyd Webber, even wrote It’s Easy for You, the final track of the final studio album Elvis Presley recorded, Moody Blue.

Tim is 80 now, and did look a little bit frail on stage, but in between the songs, we were regaled with some wonderful anecdotes about his early life, meeting Andrew, working with Bjorn and Benny from ABBA, and how difficult it could be working with Disney executives at times. He is also a member of a very exclusive club, EGOT, which stands for Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony. Only 27 people belong in this club, which also includes Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Elton John.

There was a brilliant band, and four great singers, two men and two women, although occasionally they were a bit drowned out by the band. But that’s only a minor quibble, in what was otherwise a wonderful evening.

The audience:

Mostly middle aged and over, as you’d expect, but one of the most appreciative audiences I’ve been in. No coughing, no rustling of sweet papers, you could hear a pin drop during the quieter songs. I wish every audience was like that.

It made me think..

I’ve always had the attitude, that good music is good music, whichever label you put on it. I love all types of music, especially songs which makes me smile and tap my feet. Tim Rice’s songs definitely do that, and in years to come, some of them will rightly be regarded as classics of the 20th Century. The bloke really is a National Treasure.

6

Comments

  1. Sounds like a great show. Like you, I think a good tune is a good tune regardless of genre, and he’s written or co-written more than most in his line of work.

    He’s a good storyteller too. I remembering him being an interesting turn with the Rockonteurs. An hour’s chat barely scratched the surface of his life. Good luck to him.

    • He doesn’t do the tunes though. Lyrics guy. I am not a fan of Lloyd Webber at all, but some of the Chess stuff was fine (working with pop masters)

    • Thanks very much Captain. I meant to mention the Rockonteurs as I was writing it, but got distracted and forgot to write it. It’s one of my favourite episodes, the others being David Coverdale, and Joe Elliott!

      • Whitesnake had always passed me by, but Cov’s first appearance on the podcast, and the hilarious chapter about him in Guy Pratt’s book, converted me into a huge fan. He is exactly how an ageing rock star should be, and long may he continue rocking.

        Yes, Joe Elliott was another good one. Hysteria and Pyromania are enough of the Lepps for me, but Joe clearly loves all kinds of music and has paid his dues, and I expect a night out with him would be great fun.

        • Talking of the Rockonteurs, and particularly Guy Pratt, I recently happened across this video from 2013 of Geoffrey Deane (Leyton Buzzard and Modern Romancer) singing the excellent Saturday Night Beneath The Plastic Palm Trees to acoustic accompaniment. Surprising in itself, but what surprised me most is that the audience of one seems to be Guy. I’m not 100% sure it’s him, but if it is, what’s his connection with Deane, I wonder?

          • Yes, it’s him. I don’t think there’s any musical connection, just friends probably. Someone like him, prolific and friendly, is bound to have crossed paths with Modern Romance.

        • I’m the same as you on Whitesnake and the Lepps. Didn’t know much about Coverdale at all, but that first episode is now legendary, and Joe’s is not far behind. I don’t think I’d last long on a night out with those two!

          • Whitesnake were actually really good at times – the Ready An’ Willing and Come An’ Get it albums stand up well. Sexist nonsense of course, but that’s literally his act. One of the best bands of rock players ever assembled on those two. There’s a huge and mostly ignored soul vibe to the Cov’s work.

          • I like David Coverdale. Heresy to some but Purple’s best albums are ‘Burn’ and ‘Stormbringer’. With himself and Glenn Hughes front and centre on the writing front.

            Mid-period Whitesnake for me, around the time of ‘Fool For Your Loving’. Which is a splendid song to play. Mid-tempo with lots of lovely power chords and a fantastic guitar hook. Even I can’t fuck it up.

            His raconteur skills first became apparent to me years ago on one of those Rock Family Tree programmes on the BBC, the one on the various marks of Deep Purple. He told a lovely story of fisticuffs with Richie Blackmore in a deep bass Terry-Thomas voice. Not a trace of his native Redcar anywhere near it,

        • The Cov’s Twitter is great fun and he answered one of my comments once. Not that I’m on twitter any more.

          Him calling Guy Pratt “Guido” through the pod made me giggle every time.

          • His only direct reaction to me was to block me. He posted a photo from the last tour where he looked remarkably like Robert Plant. I showed the picture to my other half and said, ‘Who’s that?’ ‘That’s Robert Plant’, she replied. ‘No, it’s David Coverdale.’ ‘Gosh! But he looks exactly like Robert Plant in that photo.’

            So I replied to his tweet writing, ‘You don’t half look like Robert Plant in that picture, David.’ And he blocked me. Someone else did reply to me saying, ‘It’s hardly surprising when he’s spent his career trying to sound like Robert Plant’, so maybe he just blocked everyone involved but I couldn’t help finding his reaction was a bit touchy.

  3. My one and only visit as a guest to the Groucho Club resulted in Sir Tim meandering over to where I was sat with some distant relatives and asking if he could bag a seat for him and his lady friend. Small talk about cricket ensued whilst he tried to fend off the increasingly unsubtle advances from said lady., whilst we shared a couple of bowls of Twiglets. I was with two Kiwi relatives, who didn’t recognize him, and looked somewhat horrified at her gyrations. When I later told them who he was, they seemed to think it was all perfectly understandable. It probably was for the Groucho.

  4. I used to live in Great Milton at the same time as Tim and he’d always have a stall at the village fete selling records he’d presumably acquired through contacts, with a few celebs along for the ride. I particularly remember Alvin Stardust in full rig and Mrs. Stardust Lisa Goddard who was as lovely as you’d hope she’d be.

    Tim also sang lead vocals in a disreputable pick up band called Wang and the Cheviots who did covers band standards between dance sessions at the village ceilidh.

    Golden geezer, can do no wrong in my eyes.

  5. That’s a wonderful story Twang. Buying records from Tim Rice at a village fete. How down to earth is that? He actually has quite a good voice, even at 80, as he showed us last night. He actually wanted to be the new Cliff Richard, which is why he wrote three songs, recorded them, and sent them to a publisher. The rest, as they say, is history.

    • If remember correctly there were 4 “authors” also including Gambo and Mike Read. But it’s more of a collection of stats rather than a book to be read. Invaluable in it’s time though to stat saddoes like me

    • As a teenager in the 70s, pop music was my religion, and that book was my Bible. I felt it was written just for me, but there were obviously loads of other kids who were music nerds as well.

  7. Jings, but we’re getting old and mellow. This is supposed to be anaethema to us lone groovers.
    Next up: Why Liberace means so much to me.
    (Sorry; am grumpy today, or most days with a y in ‘em, in truth, but Sir Tim fucking Rice? We lived through rock and prog, pub and punk, post punk, post folk and country gothic noir for this?)

    • I agree wholehearedly.

      I am still aghast at the piffle we had to sing in school music lessons when the Joseph & The Technicolour Dreamcoat songbooks came out. Just wallow in the title for a minute. There is enough in that title alone to ruin a childhood. Thats before the terrible songs (wtih particulalrly terrible lyrics) and the pinnical of shite that the cod/faux rock n roll derivative bollocks of Song of The King was.

      That we, 11 year olds from Bracknell, had to affect a rock n roll voice (uh-huh), was damaging. Frankly, I would have rather been in a Physics lesson.

      Everything else was shite as well.

    • If you think this post is bad, wait till you see my next one, entitled: The massive cultural impact of The Dooley’s on late 20th Century rock and pop music. I’m only half way through it, as there’s so much research to do. I’m hoping to post it next week, and look forward to your culturally informed, scathing review of it, although I never know, you might be a closet Dooley’s fan.
      Anyway, lighten up sir, it’s only a blog post of a show I saw the other night, and thought about half a dozen people on here might be interested. Judging by the replies I was right. I would have liked to post a review of Led Zeppelin, or the Sex Pistols, but they weren’t playing in my area on Sunday night.
      No offence taken by the way, as life’s too short, etc, but I always try to live by my dear old dad’s saying, that if you’ve got nothing interesting to say, it’s best to say nothing at all. I thought this was The Afterword blog by the way, where we can discuss pop, rock, books, tv, theatre, etc, etc, and respect each other’s posts, even if we don’t like, or agree with them.
      Anyway, I’ve rambled too long. Time to get back to finishing my Dooley’s blog, then disappear into lurkers corner again.

        • Thanks jazz. I don’t post much anyway, as I’ve rarely got anything interesting to say. There’s plenty on here who do it far better than me. Anyway, I promise not to lurk, and in my reply to retro, I explained why I had a bit of a rant.

          • I enjoyed reading your Tim Rice post. It’s nice change reading stuff that’s different to the usual fare. I too think DCFMA (as sung by the very fab Julie Covington) is a choon. I liked the b-side, Rainbow High, too. I can still remember its lyrics after not having heard it for more than 40 years. “Hands! Magic! Rings! Glamour! Face! Diamonds! Excitement!”

            • Thanks Gary. I don’t remember the b-side, but your mention of Julie Covington, brings back some wonderful memories. She was brilliant in Rock Follies, her version of DCFMA will always be the definitive version, and she was great on Jeff Wayne’s War of the World’s.

              • I’m a massive fan of the two Rock Follies albums. Two of my all-time favourite albums. The programme has dated badly and the script now seems pretty awful, but the albums still sound brilliant. Rula Lenska and Charlotte Cornwall didn’t have great voices but were a good counterpoint to Covington, who was a superb rock singer, as was Sue Jones-Davies.

      • Deary me….Well, I did say sorry. but, however much I may respect the sayings of your dear old dad, alternate opinion has just as much right to be aired. By the way. Mind you, I have tired of responding to all the endless posts about ball games and barmy politicians, so, feed me with enough tosh about the Dooleys and their ilk and maybe I’ll get the message.
        P.S. I know even less about the Dooley’s than I know about Sir Tim, but, having been to innumerable Josephs, I know what I don’t like. And no, I didn’t cry for Argentina, more about it.

        • Thanks for replying retro, and yes, you did say sorry in your post. I read it this morning when I was tired, and it did hit a bit of a nerve. I very, rarely post on here, so maybe I’m not used to a bit of criticism. Anyway, I thought I’ll get the bugger back, and went on my rant. I was trying to be a bit tongue in cheek, and funny, but it obviously didn’t come across like that. I’m sure we disagree on many musical tastes, but also agree on many others. So, I apologise for my rant, let’s agree to disagree on some things, and I may even send you my Dooley’s collection in the post.

            • Thanks Twang. As much as I love Led Zep and The Beatles, there’s not much more to say really. Everything’s been done to death, although I might have an idea for another Beatles thread, so watch this space.
              Anyway, I’m off to the circus with the grandkids tomorrow. Not sure if anyone will want a review of that, and I’ve got tickets to see Bjorn Again in a few months time. Plenty of time to dig out my platform shoes, and my 70s sparkly outfit. A review will definitely follow!

              • The AW’s Bjorn Again correspondent checking in.

                Although, I will admit, I haven’t seen them much since 1996. Somehow the original lineup is a thing, even with tribute bands, and it wasn’t the same when the girls were replaced by London musical theatre troopers.

                By 1997 there were three different Bjorn Agains touring the US, Oz and Europe, and the magic had gone.

                • Thanks for that. I didn’t really know the history, but will look forward to it anyway. Friends of ours have recently seen ABBA Voyage in London, and said it was amazing, just like the real thing. I’m thinking of having a weekend in London, and see the show while I’m there.

      • Don’t go back to lurking I found the review interesting, it’s not something I’d plan to see but it’s good to read about it. I went to see Mickey Rooney many years ago for a similar reason. Stories to tell.

        Anyway to lighten things up I used a program to recolour an old black and white photograph of me 50 years ago. Somehow the colours didn’t come out correctly but here’s my Astounding nonmonochrome coat.

        Astounding nonmonochrome coat

        • It’s a thin line (a line which, especially in the past, I occasionally hurtle across) between disagreement and “Are you out of your feeble mind?”
          I’ve learnt it’s in nobody’s interest or even, hah, amusement for me to comment on, for instance, a Prog thread. An alien world which I will never ever comprehend.
          On the other hand, comments like Retro’s re Tim Rice are, I suggest, perfectly fair and reasonable (and also have the benefit of being 109% correct (oops, line crossed).

  8. Why Liberace means so much to me.
    Liberace means so much to me because he embodied the joy of self-expression and the courage to be unapologetically unique. His dazzling performances and flamboyant style showed me that it’s okay to stand out and celebrate what makes you different. Beyond his musical talent, Liberace’s warmth and generosity inspired people to embrace life with confidence.

    • Tim Rice had a No 18 hit in the Albanian charts as lyricist for “Big in Albania” by Norman Wisdom & The Pitkins.

      There’s a few entertaining chapters in Tony Hawks’ book ” One Hit Wonderland” which explain how that came about.

      I’ll add the video for all to enjoy (Tim features on saxophone):

  10. The Dooleys were a very big deal overseas. Long and sustained success in the eastern bloc during the Soviet era. It was after one of their gigs that a beaming and sweaty Gorbachev, fresh from the mosh pit, turned to his colleagues and said (in Russian) “you know what, I’m done with Communism…I just wanna dance, man!”. And the rest is history.

  11. I’ve just remembered. My mother met him. In the foyer of the Grovesnor Hotel on Park Lane. She was in London with a gaggle of biddies on a shopping weekend.

    He had been using a public telephone in said foyer and bumped into my Mam just as she was passing. He was the perfect gentleman as we all know he is. ‘Madam, I am so very sorry. Are you alright? Please forgive my clumsiness’.

    Given the setting it was all very PG Wodehouse

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