note:
Gerry and The Pacemakers, one of the bands involved in the so-called “British invasion” of America in the early 60’s, were associated with what is referred to as the “Merseybeat” scene. Like The Beatles, the Pacemakers came from Liverpool and were managed by Brian Epstein and recorded by Beatles producer George Martin.
The group was formed by frontman Gerry Marsden in 1959, and were local rivals of The Beatles early in their career, playing in the same venues in Hamburg and Liverpool. Second to sign with Epstein, The Pacemakers recorded their 1963 song “How Do You Do It,” with producer George Martin, and it became a number one hit in the UK—the first by an Epstein-managed group to achieve this on all the charts. The group went on to record several more hits in the UK and America, but their run was short-lived and they disbanded in mid-1967. Gerry went on to become a popular cabaret and children’s TV entertainer until his retirement in 2018. He explained that the reason for retiring was to spend more time with his family. At the age of 78, Gerry passed away on January 3rd, 2021 from a heart infection.
I remember like it was yesterday Gerry And The Pacemakers' first appearance on the Ed Sullivan show on May 3rd, 1964. The screams of the girls and the matching suits the band wore were reminiscent of The Beatles’ appearance on the show only a few months earlier.
Hungry now for all things musically British, I was enthralled with Gerry’s grinning peppy style and his beautifully smooth tenor voice. I was also intrigued by Gerry’s choice to strap his guitar unusually high on his chest. A few years back my friend Tom Gulotta flew to Liverpool to do a documentary on the band as part of a “British Invasion” DVD series. They interviewed the Pacemakers’ frontman in the legendary Cavern Club. Prior to making the trip, Tom called me to ask if there was anything I wanted him to ask Gerry about the band. “Yeah, ask him why he wore his guitar practically up to his chin!” Tom laughed and said he would, and sure enough he posed the question to the always affable Liverpudlian.
Gerry chuckled (though he’d probably been asked the question countless times), and said something like “Well, the truth is, I’m not a very confident guitarist. I kept the guitar close to my face so that I could see the fret board and not mess up the chords.”
I laughed when I heard the answer, though I’m fairly convinced today that this may have been a bit of apocryphal story-telling on Gerry’s part. The reality is that if you go back and see some of the old footage of the British groups, a number of band members wear their guitars high on their chests, just like Gerry. Did all these guys suffer from some guitar-related inferiority complex? Well, maybe, but more likely it was just a kind of stylistic fashion choice; it looks pretty weird and comical now, but back then it was eccentrically British and therefore “cool.”
With the recent passing of Gerry Marsden, I thought a two song tribute to an early musical hero of mine was in order. (I’ll post song#2 here next time). The ballad “Don’t Let The Sun Catch you Crying” is one of the songs he and his band performed on the Sullivan show. The song’s lyrics are sentimentally hopeful, advising any “boys and girls” suffering from a recent breakup to restrict their crying to the night-time hours. “In the morning light,” they are advised to essentially buck-up, knock off the water-works. and get on with the business of life; they will eventually find love again, or rather, it will eventually find them. It’s not quite certain whether Gerry is telling these young, brokenhearted folks they need to start exercising self-control when the sun comes up or, by virtue alone of it having come up at all, everything will be made magically well again. Regardless, it’s a beautiful song. I would mention that because of his English accent, when I first heard Gerry sing the line “…so stop your cryin’ when the birds sing,” I thought he was singing “…..so stop your cryin’ when the bats sing.” I recall at the time thinking “Do bats actually sing? And if they do, wouldn’t they do all their singing at night? Why would they sing in the morning?” Such are the questions of a lyric-obsessed future song writer.
RIP Gerry. You not only helped change my musical world, you were one of the good guys.