A Personal History of the British Music Business 105 – Kay O’Dwyer

As dedicated readers will have realised, these interviews were originally intended to form part of a general, rather than personal, history of the British music business, a post retirement project some 25 years ago. That never happened, but more recently I realised how interesting the unexpurgated interviews were on their own. What I realised is how little knowledge people have of the influential figures who made it happen. Never, it seems, more so than Kay O’Dwyer, a veritable titan and rare female in the music and music publishing businesses from the 1950’s, whose death was quietly announced recently. I thought no photo could be found, but have just uncovered this from her funeral service

I started in music publishing – in plugging. That was the best job in those days. I started with a company called Yale Music. After that I had my own little company called 20th Century Music and I had a song called We all have a song in our hearts which was a big hit in 1950 (by Josef Locke). Then I went to Chappells for a couple of years, Campbell Connally for couple of years, went to Australia in 1950 with Donald (Peers), (who that year had 12 top twenty hits there ), came back and worked with Winifred Atwell. She and her husband were the first people to have a company that combined record promotion and publicity. It started just for her and then they took on other artists. Les Perrin was the publicist and I did the record promotion – we had people like The King Brothers, Marion Ryan, Johnny Dankworth and those sorts of people. I used to do it for a fee, then Les decided that wasn’t quite the way we wanted to go , so we went our separate ways and finished up doing it for David Platz in a firm called Publicity Consultants. From there I went to Francis Day & Hunter where I think I was the first independent record plugger.

Les Perrin (right) with Joni Mitchell, and two others whom someone will identify, I’m sure

Was Les Perrin with the NME then?

He’d finished with the NME. He was a first class publicist and used to create stories like “Winnie Atwell lost the keys out of her piano” – things like that which would make headlines then! You don’t have to use this, but I’m telling you…There was a case: someone murdered a policeman. It was a case concerning a man named Padolla. Les knew a lot of people and someone wanted him to handle the publicity for the man who had committed that crime and I got to hear about it, but only by picking up the phone and one of the newspapers telling me “Les is doing this”. I thought “I can’t be involved with this” and that’s how we split up.

I guess that’s where Max Clifford got it from with all these scallywags?

I’m sure, yes…Les wasn’t just a show business columnist, but a good hack columnist as well. He gave them good stories; he was first class. You couldn’t beat him.

How did you get your first job?

I went to Carl Yale and Yale Music. I started as his secretary – he had a double act with his brother and called themselves The Yale Brothers. They used to do pantomime and it finished with me running the company . He worked with a chap called Peter Hargraves – he was quite a good songwriter. Then they fell out and I finished up song plugging, running the office, packing parcels…you name it.

How did song plugging work in those days?

Well, the writers used to come in with their songs. We’d decide whether they were hits or not and if we thought they were, it was up to us to take them to the artist and convince him or her to sing it, then to convince the record company to record it and then to promote it. In those days we all worked with sheet music and anyone who could sing…in pantomime, on radio, on stage. Those were the times when payola was everywhere, though we didn’t pay people much because we were small and couldn’t compete. The singers were all people of the day – Vera Lynn, Hutch. Dorothy Squires helped me a lot when I first started, She was first class to all music publishers. Being young, she invited me in and said to everybody ‘this girl’s going to be a top song plugger.’ I had to sing the song to them! It sounds crazy now! The first time I had to go to EMI to one of those meetings (Carl couldn’t do it) when all the producers and publishers were invited for a particular time. So I went in with my song . You’d have Dick Rowe, Norman Newell – all those sorts of people. I didn’t know they all went in with a pianist and played the song, but it was just me and any song. Someone said ‘well, how does it go?‘ I looked round and said I was sorry – if I’d known I had to have q pianist I’d have brought one, and started singing. Dick Rowe said ‘thank you Kay, we’ll let you know.’ I left and Dick came up and said ‘let me talk to you, Kay. Next time you come up, you must have a pianist‘. He gave me hints of what to do, and when I came out I got a record out of it. In those days you had to get an artist to like it, a record company to like it and you then had to promote it.

What was your first success

Let Him Go Let Him Tarry. It went into a film; it was a non copyright song and we had recorded it with Barbara Mullen, but lots of artists also recorded it. It was in a film with Jean Simmons called Stairway to the Stars.That was the first record I fixed, and Nat Gonella did it. They were big stars in those days. The main money was coming from sheet music sales. There was no record chart – it was a sheet music chart.

Donald Peers was around at that time. When he was singing on his radio show they (the songs) were all from the sheet music charts, and when he sang a particular song, it went into the chart. You had to plug the song with all the bands like Geraldo and Ted Heath. You had to get everybody going.

I wasn’t with Donald when he first started out. He was a big star. I honestly think, of all the people I’ve seen on stage, he was as good as anyone. On stage he was magical. There was a radio show he had with a live audience – it was the first the BBC had ever done. The records came as a result of that show, about the same time that records began to be very important. I think Wally (Ridley) got his first job at EMI because of that. Wally was a song plugger for Jimmy Philips (Peter’s father. Nick Philips is Peter’s son and his brother Robin runs the background library for EMI). When the emphasis turned to record sales, I worked for people like Ken Dodd and Acker Bilk. Dennis Preston asked if I would promote records by the artists he recorded, on a royalties basis. That’s how I got into independent record promotion. Les (Reed) and I were together professionally. We split up; I went independent and Denis Preston then asked me to work on his artists. I did that for a reasonable length of time, then Francis Day & Hunter asked if I would join them. I didn’t want to give up my own company, so I split the records with them. They gradually increased and then I did an exclusive deal with them for record promotion. When EMI bought them (presumably Lansdowne) I was still an independent. I had worked for all those years but was never on the payroll. In those days it seemed the sensible thing to do was to run your own company and do your own thing. But with EMI I couldn’t do that, so I joined and became a board director at EMI Music Publishing in 1973 to specialise in record promotion. You used to get these double sided white label discs and I’d have a little sticker saying “Please play this side, Kay O’Dwyer” because nobody knew which side to play – they were all white labels. These went to radio producers on Housewives Choice and Two Way Family Favourites.

Jean Metcalfe and Cliff Michelmore

You had to get in and persuade them that the record was going to be requested. I suppose everyone (plugger) did the same thing – some people went over to Germany! As the programmes grew in number it all picked up very quickly - Jack Jackson, Keith Fordyce. It was mainly the producers we dealt with, but also the presenters. Anyone who had anything to do with getting a record played would – and Jean Metcalfe was super in those days. They were all nice – they used to listen. You never contacted the record company to see what they were doing; you just worked the record because that was your job. Before record programmes you were promoting the song, trying to get that song into every programme. You’d go to someone like Geraldo, all the band leaders and organists – that’s how you’d start out – the stars came after that. When you had a song to plug, you went through an advance copy of the Radio Times and tried to get your song on as many programmes as possible – that’s how we earned our money. Nowadays, the publishers leave it to the record companies – a few use independent pluggers. Now that most recording artists write their own songs, it’s a different business. Jerry Lordan was the first person to change things because he wrote things like Apache and Wonderful Land before becoming a singer with Who could be bluer. I think he was the first one I knew in this country who did that.

Then of course, The Beatles came along and it all changed. Everyone seemed to write their own songs and be their own artist, Before, people were looking for songs all the time – they wanted a hit song. Nowadays, by the time you get the song, it’s been recorded..it’s a different job.

It’s the world stars who still look for songs

All the writers had the chance to be recorded – now it’s a closed shop. Roger Cook in Nashville for example was in the Top Five, as good songwriters. The fun was finding the song. The songwriters used to come in and get you to hear their songs – you either liked them or you didn’t. If you liked them you took them (as writers) and you were committed to them.

Where was Yale Music?

It was at the same place as EMI Publishing is now (which was 20 years ago!) 133a Charing Cross Road. Peter Maurice, Laurence Wright, Campbell-Connelly – they were all around Denmark Street except Chappells who were in New Bond Street. It was lovely; everyone went to Denmark Street. All the musicians looking for work congregated in Archer Street. Mr Gifford, who used to engrave the music for the printers, had an office at the back of Archer Street, so all the publishers would get an arranger to arrange the song and Mr Gifford would beat it out on metal ready for the printer.

Where were you when The Beatles exploded?

(Kay didn’t answer this, but..) They made a difference to everybody’s business. The publishers were never quite the same again. The Beatles were a ready made act. They had their own songs. Others still relied on Denmark Street so that was fine, but they started a trend for groups who wrote for themselves. The Rolling Stones followed quickly afterwards and they were always around Charing Cross Road, as were The Shadows.

Norman Newell told me Ardmore and Beechwood were above the HMV shop and when The Beatles did their test recording there, it was the guy from A&B who heard it and passed it on.

Syd Coleman did the publishing deal for the first two songs, but eventually Len Wood (then EMI chairman)sold them back to him, much to my disgust. I could never believe that. It was fun in my day – very hard work, but I loved it. Working in Charing Cross Road you met people like Jimmy Phillips, Jimmy Henney, and I used to think that one day I’d do as well as them. They were all experts in their business, all had big personalities. When I was at Chappells, Jimmy Henney was the top man for promotion – he knew all the American singers. He was always very good looking, very gentlemanly, everybody loved him and he had the open sesame to everything. He was a nice fellow

Jimmy Henney

When I was at Chappells, I sometimes had songs I knew I couldn’t do anything with. They were picked out off the catalogues they represented and gave us the one they wanted promoted. We used to have meetings when they played us the songs. Teddy Holmes was there, Jimmy, me, Sid Green and a guy called Leslie Kettle. They’d play the songs, asked us what we thought of them and allocate them to those who wanted them. When I went to Victoria Music, they said they hadn’t had a hit for six years, so it wasn’t an easy task. But I had In the cool cool of the evening, Day after day, and I apologise. They were American songs in the Victoria Music catalogue which was owned by Chappells. I had to get the bands to play them.

Were the record companies of great importance to you then?

It was a separate business until records started to sell, and then it became more important to get the artist to record a song. The artist would say ‘ play it to Wally Ridley or whoever – tell him I like it. And then you had to convince the A&R manager it was right for the singer. When it was recorded, it had to be a good recording and then I’d promote it at radio the same way I had promoted sheet music. There were so many good American songs, but even if we got a good English song we couldn’t get it released in America, not for love or money. They didn’t want to know until The Beatles came and changed the world.

Did you have any strong association with song writers?

Jerry Lordan, Les Reed, Barry Mason. We had the best days of those people with Francis Day & Hunter. I think Les forged the relationship with Gordon Mills when he was keyboard player for the John Barry Seven. They then wrote a song together for The Applejacks – Tell me When. Les also wrote It’s not unusual. We had him after that. Then Barry came along because he hadn’t had any hits and he wanted to meet Les. We put them together.

Norman Newell?

Norman had a problem. He used to write lyrics to continental songs, so got less money than writing in English in the first place. I think he is accepted as one of Britain’s top lyricists.

Before you got to EMI whom had you worked for the longest?

As an independent. Winifred Atwell for a couple of years, David Platz at Essex Music. When I was at Chappells, Tony Hall and Jimmy Henney were best friends. Tony, Jimmy and a guy called David Raven were like The Three Musketeers. Tony went out with Jackie Collins, Jimmy went out with Lana Morris and we were all together in those days.

I never worked for a record company. I slid in to EMI by virtue of it acquiring FrancisDay and Hunter. I ran it first of all, Peter ran Peter Maurice and perhaps, not at the beginning, Terry Slater was there. At that time I was with Donald (Peers) and he was very ill. Had that not been so, I wouldn’t have been at EMI. I would have stayed independent. But I had a lot of things on my plate and it seemed to me that the way I could manage everything, look after my business, look after Donald, was to go on doing what I knew how to do, which was to stay at Francis, Day & Hunter. Although it was EMI, it was still run as a separate company and for the first year I was still independent. Then EMI formed a new board and asked if I would like to join as managing director. That was the time when Donald was still ill. Not long after that it all changed, but then I was already on the board and had given up my independence . The board was all male, but it was lovely. I enjoyed it very much. The only person I had any trouble with was Ron White. I don’t think he got on with ladies. He didn’t have to give me the job, but he did. I think we both had respect for each other underneath. His wife used to say to me -“you have problems with him, you should have him at home!”. Ken East gave Ron a hard time and I think learned from other people so gave everyone a hard time himself. When Len was no longer in the position he was, he and Ron didn’t seem to hit it off. He used to say “Len Wood kept me back”, which he didn’t – he pushed him all the way. Everyone found him difficult – Brian Hopkins, Terry Slater, and with me it was always boxing gloves on.

Terry Slater.

Was the chart important?

If you weren’t in the charts you were dead! Funnily enough, in those times you went for the singles charts because it was always felt that albums were something that followed singles. Now the album comes first and you take a single from it.

What if you had the B-side and a rival publisher had the A-side?

We weren’t bothered. Very often publishers would say ‘that shouldn’t be the A-side, we should be the A-side’ and people would start to fight, but then of course we were kidding ourselves! But we did that in the beginning, tried to get the record companies to turn the disc over…and it did happen sometimes. Getting the artist to do one of your songs as a B-side was just as important financially, but you didn’t look at it like that. You were in the business to get A-side hits. The big problem was buying American songs because as soon as they went in the charts all the publishers would bid for the rights in this country. That’s how we started out, but really what we wanted to do was to get an English song released in America. That was the hardest thing to do until we opened our company in America. What we should have done in hindsight was to have opened our own record company. We used to think that the most important ingredient was the song. We used to say “the song can make the artist, but if an artist sings a bad song…nothing!” If it’s a hit song anyone can sing it. We did that a little bit. If we had a certain artist we would help financially to make the record.

Dick James did that, forming his own record label

Publishers were different animals. We just wanted to own the copyright; we didn’t care who had the record. They weren’t businesslike in those days – they were only concerned in the publishing. Then Dick came along and had his own record company as well.

Exploiting old songs in TV adverts – was that your initiative?

No. I think Ron White wanted Brian Hopkins to be the next managing director of EMI Music Publishing. He found me a bit of a stumbling block. He tried to find a way round it and that was get me to run the thing for TV advertising. I had no intention of doing it. I thought “I’ll do it for a year, to show him I can, but then I’m out.” But of course, in two years it took off. I did extremely well as no one had done it before. The top artists and songwriters didn’t want their songs on tv commercials – you had to go down on bended knee to persuade them. Now they’re asking me! I changed the whole thing and adapted my plugging technique to fixing songs for TV adverts. I got to know all the advertisers and commercial producers and did it that way. The first ad was Changes by David Bowie, but I can’t remember the first to have a record sales spin-off. We had a Levi’s ad with What a wonderful world’ – maybe that was the first one, Once I’d seen it happen I started to push the back catalogue. It was a new world for advertisers too; they suddenly wanted to be connected to music. It’s true – music sets the actual pace of things. For a long time we were the only company to have our own division. EMI as a publishing group was getting bigger and bigger. Publishers in those days were people who understood music, understood the writers. Writers, let’s face it, were their lifeblood- it’s not the same these days

It used to be secondary exploitation

It’s a different business Not that people in it aren’t just as good – it’s just that the business we were in is no longer there. It’s not so much fun. When we had Queen – the first big world group – EMI had been making records and suddenly we had a world market…things had to change. Whereas before, we had writers and were delighted if they had a hit in England, but with Queen the whole world opened.

We started with Jerry Lordan, and with Apache he had a hit all over the world but that was slightly different. It was an instrumental – no language barrier. When we first met, he didn’t play an instrument. He had a little ukulele but in his head he knew exactly what he wanted. He would drive the people who transcribed his music, mad. He arranged his songs in his head. but he couldn’t play piano.

There are no opportunities for songwriters now – where are they going to go? Les Reed did say to me ‘let’s start a company’ and I might. I’ll think about it

Norman Newell used to say that LP’s had to be full of songs that everybody had heard, or why else would you buy it?

It’s funny – he was right in his day. If you recorded an LP of unknown songs, nobody would buy it. But the difference today is that we’re not buying an artist singing unknown songs, but an artist who writes all their own songs.

If you were starting out again today, would you still go into this business?

No, I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s a personality business anymore. The people who are running it, ninety times out of ten, are faceless wonders. It’s a money business. Maurice Oberstein is probably the last one. He didn’t need the hat and the dog!! When I started out there were Reg Connelly, Jimmy Phillips, Lawrence Wright…all in publishing .

And there the interview ended, conducted from her flat overlooking Brighton beach. On reflection I should have read it carefully while it was still in my memory as the world of sheet music publishing, so important for so long, is very rarely the subject of music history.

©David Hughes 2024. All illustrations gleaned from Google and there just to break up the copy!