In Memoriam pays tribute to those who have left this world, and the songs they left us to remember them by.
Beverley Kutner, who passed away on April 27, was a supremely talented musician, bandleader and songwriter, who used her classical drama training to present a beguiling figure on stage. In 1966, when Decca Records wanted to showcase new recording technology, combined with the best music available in London in the Swinging Sixties, they chose her to launch the label, from a stable that included Cat Stevens and David Jones/Bowie. They gave her the cream of London’s session musicians to realize her musical vision, confident in the success that would follow. Later, they provided a budget to travel to record in Woodstock, at that time the center of the folk revolution in the US.
Beverley earned the admiration of Paul McCartney and Barbra Streisand for her music, and the enmity of Sandy Denny, who feared being outshone by another folk songstress. She performed at the Monterey Festival of 1967, and was treated as a peer by Simon and Garfunkel, Jimi Hendrix and all. She recorded some of her best music nearly 50 years on from that heyday, when she could once again call on the best musicians due to her reputation.
Despite all of that, she is likely to be remembered for her relationship with a man.
When Beverley met John Martyn, her star had already ascended, and his had not yet risen. She was working with future members of Led Zeppelin, and he was doing session work himself. His solo work had not yet found an audience. They fell in love and he joined her for her Woodstock recording sessions, with the legendary arranger Paul Harris and with Levon Helm and other members of The Band joining in, to produce the sublime work of Stormbringer!. Back in London, they produced another jazz-tinged album, a timely reminder of the cutting multicultural edge in the city. By that time the album that the opportunity provided by her record label was released, it was being seen as his work, at least by him. It was the last time they worked together as musicians, and Beverley did not earn a living from music for the next 40 years.
Martyn’s most famous song, “May You Never,” reminds the listener not to lose their temper in a barroom fight. Not, it must be said, to avoid them completely. An actual red mist may lead you to miss something and lose the fight, or inflict so much damage that the authorities might have to get involved, or you might lose the friendship or love of someone who you were just having a relatively mild (in your own head) disagreement with. The key thing was measured violence. Whilst Martyn was involved in many a barroom ruckus, and no doubt spent time drying out in police cells, he never faced significant prison time for all the violence that leaked into his life, and which he imposed on others. He once (as a guest) sang the song for prisoners in a jail, who may have needed the advice a bit earlier.
The first time that Beverley remembered John being violent with her was during the Woodstock recording sessions. They had both been speaking with Bob Dylan, and John took exception to the attention that The Big Zim was paying her. Martyn did not pass on the invitation that Dylan made to the both of them to visit his house in the area as guests of him and his wife. Musicians together, chatting and perhaps jamming. Instead, Martyn inflicted a beating on his wife.
The tone having been set, Martyn terrorized Beverley for the next decade. Whether at home alone, or on holiday in Jamaica where Martyn was trying to get sober, friends learned to ignore physical and mental bruising that she was enduring. She had no independent income as the royalties from her work disappeared into the hands of various men, including Martyn, who misappropriated her funds and legacy. When she tried to fight back, Martyn was more than willing to threaten to take his anger out on their young family, with three young children in the house.
Eventually, after a decade, Beverley literally ran away, and soon rescued her children. She was left to bring them up without support from her ex-husband, or the money that she had earned, but did not receive. Having already established himself as a star, Martyn turned his anger at her “abandonment” of him into the lacerating, but successful, Grace and Danger album.
Beverley did not make much music again until after John died in 2009, and her children had grown up. Her son had inherited some of his father’s weaknesses, particularly when he spent time with them, which continued to occupy her time. She returned to wider consciousness with a TV appearance celebrating Bert Jansch (who taught her to play guitar but let her down romantically), and then made a triumphant return to the studio with The Phoenix and The Turtle, which included one song that she wrote with Nick Drake, a friend and confidante.
It is possible that John Martyn’s musical genius (despite his manifest personal flaws) may have always shone through, or perhaps Stormbringer! was his one chance for a breakthrough, which he took. It was a tightrope. He could have chosen to fight with the wrong person, or let down the wrong drug dealer, and been physically damaged, or he could have been a great “lost” musician, many of whom litter the streets and bars of his beloved Soho. Someone who had It, but did not find a way to harness it. He went on to make some amazing music, and was recognized by musicians and fans throughout the world as a pioneer, and received an award from the Queen.
Beverley made some great records, which is more than most people, but should not be a mere footnote to his legacy.
Museum – Beverley (Donovan cover)
Other folk artists covered Beverley’s songs, and Beverley covered them. From 1967, you can sense the faith that the record label she launched had in her, with a rich arrangement and a support band. Fun and poppy, but with a deep musical knowledge behind it.
When the Levee Breaks – Beverley Martyn (Kansas Joe and Memphis Minnie cover)
Martyn fronted the Levee Breakers in the ‘60s and played this song throughout her career. From her 2014 album, this version incorporates all her knowledge of music and hints at what happens in life when an overwhelming force of nature destroys all your defenses.
North West Three – Fatboy Slim (Beverley and John Martyn cover)
The system of Postcodes in the UK is more specific than a US Zip Code, with three letters designating an area, and three more bringing specificity to a small number of addresses. The “NW3” postcode in London includes the area of Primrose Hill, the subject of a Beverley and John Martyn song about domestic bliss(!) in their adopted city. It may have been a lifeline to have your song sampled and adapted by Fatboy Slim, a global superstar. Unfortunately the album was not a hit and Beverley had to struggle on without royalties for more years.
Sweet Honesty – Mr. Reginald (Beverley and John Martyn cover)
This curiosity appeared on a tribute EP to Nick Drake by the unusually named Mr. Reginald. Recorded in 1970 by a young session singer, but not released until 1999, when the singer was much better known as Elton John. Beverley was asked to support Nick when the rich, troubled, boy came to London, and their association continued until near his death, with John also “helping” at times. However, we will never know why (Rights issues, incompetence?) this song on the CD was mislabeled as a Drake song, as it is clearly “Sweet Honesty” from the “Stormbringer” sessions.
Stormbringer – The John Martyn Project (Beverley and John Martyn cover)
For the past few years task of honoring the musical legacy of John Martyn, without ignoring his feet of clay, has fallen to the JMP. Sometimes their vocals are in the male voice, but they also have a female voice for the songs that best suit it, to augment their amazing musicianship. They provide a particularly sensitive reading of this song.
