Tuesday, April 28th, 2009

John Weller, 1931-2009

Nice obituary of John Weller, who managed his son Paul's career throughout his time with The Jam, The Style Council, and as a solo artist: "On one famous occasion, after the head of Polydor, David Munns, had made a disparaging remark about the Style Council's latest record, Weller Sr was said to have lifted the hapless executive out of his chair and told him: 'You don't speak about my son like that.'"

9 Comments / Post A Comment

IBentMyWookie (#133)

I'm waiting on Dina Lohan's obit. If only to read the sentence "listen, my kid don't show nip unless she gets a cut of the gross points," in the Times.

Yeah, gee. I wish my dad came to my business meetings and told my boss "You don't talk to my son like that!". Parents today, so uninterested and uninvolved.

Give me a break. That's just plain weird.

You've got it totally wrong, though. This is the stuff of the typical British Dad of a certain era and class, not the American Helicopter Parent. I think it's lovely.

It helps that I'm hearing John Weller as Bill Grundy ca. 1976, of course.

lululemming (#409)

I met them both once, and Mr. Weller (Sr.) was just a really lovely, funny guy. As for Weller Jr., I briefly (if shamefully) considered keeping one of his spent cigarettes as a souvenir. This was PrE-Bay, of course – now I can just bid on creepy shit.

sigerson (#179)

The Jam were THAT close to breaking huge, dude. They could have been The Police or The Clash if the timing were better. Same thing goes for The Flying Burrito Brothers and The Eagles. The original, edgier version is always better than the mass market pablum.

slinkimalinki (#182)

i'm pretty sure the point of the jam was that they weren't the police. because, ewwww…(admitedly, the police were ok, it's just that i get the urge to hack up a hairball whenever anything associated with sting comes up).

IBentMyWookie (#133)

I cannot think of a being on earth who irritates me more than that insufferable bastard. Him and that vagina-faced wife of his.

Having said that, playing a drinking game based on "Roxanne" is a good way to get real sick real fast. YOU'RE WELCOME.

Smacking around a record company executive should shave off about 1000 years in purgatory. I sincerely hope Mr. Weller is up there above with Tony Wilson organizing the talent.

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