Wizz Jones wasn’t a household name. His records never troubled the charts and he continued to play pubs and folk clubs across his long musical life. All of which, in a society where celebrity and wealth are valued above all, means some observers will consider Wizz “unsuccessful”. He was anything but. A consummate musician, one who engaged the public with his playing for these past 65 years, Wizz was also someone I considered a friend. Wizz died on Sunday aged 86 - I will miss him and so, I imagine, will many who encountered him.
As I imagine most Yak readers aren’t very familiar with Wizz, I’ll provide a basic biography: born Raymond Ronald Jones in Thornton Heath, Surrey, and raised in a working class family, as a boy Jones dreamt of becoming a magician, so leading his mother to nickname her son “Wizzy the Wuz” after a character in the Beano comic. The nickname stuck and Raymond was known to everyone as Wizz from then on.
Inspired by blues and rock & roll 78s, Jones taught himself guitar, forming his first band The Wranglers in 1957. Having left school, Jones worked in a warehouse but, enamoured by Woody Guthrie’s memoir Bound For Glory and Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, began hitchhiking around Britain, Europe and North Africa, living and busking for a time in Paris. Mixing with a bohemian crowd of young folk musicians – one being his former Croydon neighbour Ralph McTell – Jones stood out both for his skills as an acoustic guitarist and the length of his hair. Residing in Cornwall in 1960, where he busked and worked in hotels, Wizz was interviewed by Alan Whicker for the BBC’s Tonight programme – Whicker was reporting on the “bohemians” who were, it appears, at the centre of a small moral panic (“long hair, unwashed etc”) and Wizz, with hair across his shoulders, an acoustic guitar and a confident manner spoke freely with Whicker.
Here’s Wizz & Whicker, the latter representing a very uptight establishment, while Wizz is a beacon for a youth culture that will take shape across the 1960s.
This might have won Jones a degree of notoriety but his musical career didn’t develop until a few years later when the skiffle singer Chas McDevitt began employing Wizz as his guitarist. McDevitt then encouraged Jones to record Bob Dylan’s Ballad Of Hollis Brown, which was released as a 45 in 1964. It didn’t trouble the charts but Jones’ reputation as a guitar picker saw him influencing many rising players, including the likes of Eric Clapton and Keith Richards.
Wizz was long tagged as a “folk singer”, which is a pretty meaningless tag when it gets applied to everyone who plays an acoustic guitar. Essentially, he was a disciple of US blues and folk artists who came to the UK in the 1950s - Big Bill Broonzy, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Derroll Adams - so developing his own unique style, then when Bob Dylan made an impact here (employing similar influences yet writing his own songs) it inspired Wizz to also become a songwriter.
At the time Jones played alongside Bert Jansch and Davey Graham, those two being considered masters of progressive British folk guitar, then teamed up with banjoist Pete Stanley. Their debut album Sixteen Tons of Bluegrass – which Jones considered misleadingly titled – was released in 1966.
Jones then partnered Clive Palmer, formerly of the Incredible String Band, and a pal from his time busking in Paris. Jones had married banjoist Sandy Wedlake in 1963 and started a family, so was relieved when, in 1969, United Artists signed him. His eponymous solo album was poorly promoted and Wizz continued performing for a living. 1970 found Jones’ sophomore album The Legendary Me released on a small label. In 1972 British folk supergroup Pentangle invited Jones to support them on their farewell tour and this led to a deal with CBS, Pentangle guitarist John Renbourne producing his Right Now album.
Already an accomplished guitarist, Jones’ confidence as a songwriter developed and 1973 album When I Leave Berlin – recorded in Germany with noted producer Conny Plank engineering (Wizz had a loyal following in Germany) – demonstrated such. Jones continued touring and recording, a favourite on the European folk music circuit, while never attracting wider attention until he appeared in the 1992 documentary feature Acoustic Routes.
Narrated by Billy Connelly, Acoustic Routes focused on the 60s folk scene’s guitar heroes: Jansch, Jones, Martin Carthy et al and is a fine doc’. I went to see Acoustic Routes in Edinburgh in ‘92 and this was my introduction to Wizz. I was smitten and so, it appears, were many others: suddenly Jones was in demand and he enjoyed the interest of a new generation, while still playing the pubs and folk clubs that had sustained him over the decades.
Here’s Wizz in Acoustic Routes. It appears that lots of performances from the doc’ are on Youtube but not the entire documentary (a shame as Billy Connolly, who started out as a banjoist in a folk duo, does a great job narrating and interviewing).
In 30 May 2012 Bruce Springsteen opened his concert at Berlin’s Olympic Stadium with Jones’ song When I Leave Berlin – “much to my surprise,” stated Jones. Recording and touring with his old friend John Renbourne, until the latter’s death in 2015, Wizz remained a friendly, unpretentious man who gave his all when performing. While Jansch and Graham won greater fame, both would also be consumed by addictions - as would Wizz’s acolytes (Eric, Keith, Jimmy etc). Which is to say Wizz was grounded, unfussy, not easily mislead.
I saw Wizz performing in pubs and venues several times over the decades and, at some point, managed to get his phone number. Aware he lived in Balham (South London) I rang and enquired if he would consider playing one of the monthly Sunday nights I put on in the upstairs bar of the Ritzy cinema in Brixton. The fee was only £100 but Wizz said he was happy to play - partly because it was a short drive home, also, as the night was free entry, he could invite friends and family along.
And they did. Plus loads of other people - most around Wizz’s age. I arrived to set things up at 7.30pm (event began at 8pm) to find every seat taken. These fans were dedicated - and determined to have a seat. As those seated weren’t my usual Sunday night crowd, I asked how they came to hear of the event - “Cerys mentioned it” was the reply. Of course, Cerys Matthews 6 Music radio show being what everyone who loved folk/blues/roots music listened to.
Wizz arrived and sound checked without fuss. His wife Sandy accompanied him and he mentioned that his son Simeon would arrive and join him on stage at some point. He played the first set solo - just superb. Wizz had studied Big Bill Broonzy’s guitar technique - seeing BBB on a British TV show in the 1950s had, Wizz noted, been a revelation - and he made his acoustic guitar sing. His songs were also impressive: I’ll never forget Burma Star, one about his father returning at the end of WW2, little Wizz meeting him for the first time, his mother weeping at both having her husband - at one point considered “missing” home, while realising he was traumatised by his experience as slave labour for the Japanese. Wizz then sang of how his father spent the rest of his life drinking and gambling. A remarkable song.
For the second set Simeon joined Wizz and proved himself an accomplished wind musician, playing flute, saxophone and harmonica. Together the duo pushed the music further out, blues and jazz and folk flavours melding and enveloping everyone in a beautiful web of sound. They were magnificent. I’ve seen Bob Dylan and Van Morrison individually three times each and they were both mediocre (or dire) on each occasion. Wizz, playing for £100, made beautiful music that easily eclipsed the efforts of the aforementioned icons - here was an artist!
I booked Wizz twice more at the Ritzy - Simeon again joining him on stage and the music always sizzling. Over the years I got to know Wizz well enough to ring him for a chat. Once I interviewed him on the record shops he perused as a youth (a large Croydon department store that sold blues and rock & roll 78s got him started) for my book Going For A Song: A Chronicle Of The UK Record Shop. At one of his Ritzy gigs I gave Wizz a copy of the book and he insisted on giving me A Life On The Road: 1964 -2014, a wonderful CD compilation of his life in music.
Over Covid I rang Wizz on occasion to see how he was handling lockdown. As usual he was straightforward and uncomplaining, although he mentioned how, as he had no gigs, he was rarely playing guitar and worried he had lost his technique. My Ritzy night was retired not long after lockdown ended so I couldn’t get Wizz back there, instead I last went to see him play in 2022 at The Ivy House, a pub in Nunhead that regularly books folkies. This time it was ticketed and Wizz filled the room - which meant he definitely earned more than £100. We had a chat in-between sets and Wizz appeared as droll as ever. He mentioned feeling his age - “I’m getting old” - and that his grandson Alfie was now joining he and Simeon on stage for the second set. And, yes, there Alfie was, proudly playing acoustic guitar alongside his dad and grandad. The Jones gang, they were something else. Actually, I think Wizz always delivered, a guitarist’s guitarist who loved to make music and was happy with his lot.
That said, in December 2019 I went to see Ralph McTell’s 75th birthday celebration at the Royal Festival Hall where the Streets Of London singer was joined on stage by many famous pals. As Wizz taught Ralph guitar as a youth and they had worked together on-and-off over the years, I expected him to be called up at some point. This didn’t happen and, a few days later, when I mentioned my surprise at this to Wizz, he replied, “yeh, I’m not famous enough…” I could tell he felt slighted by being left out and, I imagine, moments like this made him wish he had enjoyed a degree of commercial success, won wider recognition, got some big gigs. Still, Wizz achieved plenty, was loved by his family and friends, made the kind of music he believed in and enjoyed life. I’d definitely take his life over that of Dylan or Morrison’s.
Wizz’s final performance was on 28th February this year, where he was joined by Simeon and Alfie for a moving performance. After this he announced his retirement, health issues making singing difficult for him. Appropriately, the original British longhair remained hirsute right to the end. RIP Wizz - you did become that wizard you once dreamed of being.
Here’s Wizz and Alfie at The Ivy House in 2022. Photo by me.
Giant
I feel I should know his work, but unfortunately, I don’t and sadly it’s too late now I will catch some of the videos, et cetera
Had to laugh at anyone who plays guitar is labelled as ‘folk’ well it is a Broad church , & volk is of the people