John Dowell reporting...


I always wanted to be Mick Tucker. When I was 13, I spent my precious pocket
money on cheap drumsticks and I'd sit on the linen basket - just the right
height for my drum stool -and mime to Sweet hits in front of my bedroom
mirror.

The first time I really saw Mick Tucker was at the legendary Hammersmith
Odeon gig in 1978. I was down the front with Mick just ahead of me, sitting
astride of his massive silver Ludwig kit like some mighty warrior on a
steed. He played his two bass pedals like thunder. He did more with his feet
than a whole army of players could manage with their hands.

I was loyal for a while but the band's career faded and I pursued other
musical interests. Through the 80s and 90s I kept a casual interest and did
see Brian solo a few times. But I knew nothing of the rest of Sweet and it
was only when I discovered the Internet that I was able to trace the history
of the others including, of course, my hero Mick. I was shocked to learn of
his terrible illness and to read everyone's good wishes for his speedy
recovery. I felt guilty that I had not even known of this.

In Devizes last year, Andy Scott put together a preview evening for his new
album and it was here that I first met Elliott Tuffin. He mentioned in
passing that he was a good friend of Mick's and that I could come down and
meet him sometime if I wished. I was unsure. This seemed quite a leap.to go
from untouchable hero to "come and say hello" in one short conversation.

Elliott's connections in the Sweet family run deep. He was married to Steve'
s daughter Lisa and you may have seen their wedding home video with Elliott,
Steve and Brian playing together. He is a good singer in his own right and
his band regularly plays around the west London suburbs near Mick's home. In
more recent times Mick has been coming out to some of these and has, with a
little encouragement, been coaxed into joining him on stage to sing a few
numbers.

I'd seen Elliott's band a few times, secretly hoping Mick might be there but
for one reason or another we still hadn't met. Then I got a message saying
Steve was over from L.A. and there was a good chance he might come and see
Mick at this Sunday's concert. As it happens, Steve would not be there but I
was waiting in the pub's Beer Garden when Elliott's car pulled up.  First
one out of the car was a familiar figure .Mick Tucker!

I knew from recent photographs that Mick had lost weight but from a distance
he looked exactly the same. His pretty wife Jan joined him and they slowly
went into the little function room at the back of the pub, where Elliott's
band were setting up their equipment.  I kept a respectful distance, content
in the knowledge that, for the first time in over 20 years, I was in the
presence of The Man With The Golden Arm. Up close, it is fair to say his
recent illness has taken a physical toll on this mighty man. He is much
thinner now and quite frail compared with how I remembered him, though he
was in good spirits and seemed happy chatting to friends.

During the interval, it seemed like an appropriate break and I dared to
introduce myself. I shook the greatest hand that ever hit a drum skin and
burbled something about being a fan. He seemed uncertain about me but kindly
posed for a photograph. The second half then started up so I thanked him and
retreated to a safe distance.

Elliott introduced his special guest in the audience and to my surprise and
pleasure Mick readily got up and joined his friend on stage. Familiar Sweet
hits followed and it was a joy to see Mick step up to the mike, to see how
the music swelled and lifted him and how the smile spread broader across his
face. The drummer was joking around with the introductions to Ballroom Blitz
and Mick stopped the song saying "let's start again and this time please try
and get the drum pattern right!" (it occurred to me that no one - but no
one - since Mick has played the intro quite the way that he did.) "Alright
YOU come and do it then" taunted Drew Murphy from behind the drums.

Then my heart was in my mouth. Rather than laugh it off, Mick actually
looked round at Elliott for reassurance. Was Mick really going to play
tonight? Was I going to witness Mick's public return to the kit? He looked
around and you could see the thoughts going through his head. The room was
small so even when they were away from the mikes you could hear their
discussions..
 "I don't know.. what would we do?"
 "Anything you want Mick , one of yours, someone else's, some rock 'n'
 roll."
"There's no pressure here."
"Only if you want Mick, only if you want to."

He picked up a drum stick. He stared down pensively as he felt it in his
hand and gave it his famous "twirl" a couple of times. A long time passed
and the crowd, small as it was, realised something special was happening.
They  began  shouting out words of encouragement. Mick was looking back at
his old pal Elliott who just kept smiling and saying "It's up to you Mick,
only if you want to." He was the wisest and the kindest of friends - if
anyone was going to persuade Mick to play, it was Elliott at that moment
but he didn't try. Mick walked to the kit and stared hard. He tapped a
cymbal and banged the snare. Drew got off his stool and my pulse raced, was
this it? "I don't know." Mick muttered. Someone shouted out "give it a go!"

"I'm sorry." he replied ".but I'm not the kind of person who can 'give it a
go'".

With that the tears pricked my eyes. I felt so proud to see the man with
that strength and courage, agonising between his desire to play and the
possibility of not coming up to his own standards or disappointing fans. It
was clear from his body language and the things he candidly said that he
wanted this more than anything.but  wasn't ready yet. I must have held my
breath for a full five minutes but the moment passed and the band played on
with Blockbuster before Mick sat down to rapturous applause.

After the show I went over to Mick and mentioned that I'd seen him at
Hammersmith in 1979. He warmed to this, sensing perhaps that I was a genuine
fan, not just someone with a passing interest. He told me he felt the
Hammersmith gig had been a little tame and not as raucous as it should have
been. I said it was fantastic and how the crowd went crazy, particularly
during his drum solo in Set Me Free. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled a
face as if  " it's not for me to say, but thanks!"

Less than a week later and I managed to meet Mick for the second time in my
life. Another pub, another Elliott gig and Mick seemed even happier and
upbeat than before. I'd had our photograph printed and enlarged and he
happily signs it as a momento. Then it's back to the music, taunting Elliott
with cries for old Who numbers and gestures of what he thinks about Marc
Bolan! When there's a request from the management to turn the volume down,
it's Mick that hollers out "if it's too loud you're too old!" Yes indeed!

The road to Mick's full recovery will be long and difficult. There will be
many setbacks along the way and realistically one has to face the fact that
he might not recover the full strength and agility he had twenty years ago.
But the ability is still there and I saw for myself that his desire to play
is as hungry as ever. Elliott is a real tonic for Mick, who seems to enjoy
being around live music again and the respect paid to him by friends and
fans. Having now met him, my wish for Mick is that he regains enough health
to enjoy what he really loves.playing drums again. If not in a full Sweet
reformation, then just jamming on a Sunday night in a back room of a London
pub with his friends around him.

As for me, the long years wait was worth every minute of it and I was not
disappointed. As I watched the man twirl the drumstick so effortlessly in
his hand, my mind was transported back to my bedroom in 1973. "Hellraiser"
is on the player, I'm sitting in front of that mirror, "air drumming" for
all I'm worth.

28 years later I still can't do that twirl!