Guy Pratt: My Bass And Other Animals, King’s Head Theatre, London

By Sara Newman @ The Independent
Published: 01 December 2006

Two decades of playing bass guitar as a respected but obscure session man with some of the world’s most famous musicians has not dampened Guy Pratt’s enthusiasm for stardom. He now comes out of the shadows to take centre stage as a comedian.

Sharing the spotlight with Betsy, a 1964 Fender Jazz Bass guitar, our chain-smoking entertainer parodies Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd riffs. He may mock, but he knows he’s good. His gig is at once self-deprecating and, quite deservedly, self-aggrandising.

His star-studded reminiscences could seem like bragging, but Pratt deflates any self-importance with humorous accounts of his foolish adventures and missed opportunities. Hisanecdotes are drawn from his experiences backstage with the likes of Robert Palmer, David Bowie and Crosby, Stills & Nash – all inevitably ending in chaos and acrimony. His photo opportunities include being dragged by Bowie into the paparazzi flashes wearing only a kimono, or arriving at a George Michael concert arm in arm with Madonna, typically the one time there’s not a pap in sight.

Tales of run-ins with drunk, angry Australian fans and servile German hoteliers are told with as much flair as his conversations with an indignant David Coverdale (the Yorkshire rocker of Whitesnake and Deep Purple fame) or a laddish Martin Kemp. Accounts of working with Madonna (who introduced herself with the words: “Time is money and the money is mine,” and demanded: “I hear you’re funny. Now make me laugh”) make for humorous and engaging trivia.

Nonchalant and self-effacing, Pratt recollects the crews, the drugs, the backstage girls and the thrill of a dressing-room complete with gas hob.

He role-plays the neurosis of a session musician, wanting but not wanting to be watched, inanely running on the spot as instructed, scrutinised by fans in the front row. His rock’n'roll inclination to smash a guitar on stage is thwarted by the instrument’s sturdy “through-body” neck – the ensuing crazed murder scene demonstrating the guitar’s bloody-minded resilience.

Perhaps such re-enactment is therapy for a man who has to endure the stupidity of audiences who shout idiotically all the way through David Gilmour’s sets for Pink Floyd, or patiently suffer banal praise from other musicians, such as: “Man, you really know how to play this shit.” To which he responds, rather Englishly, “Thanks awfully.”

Although careful not to over-offend, Pratt doesn’t shy away from making mildly acerbic digs at his A-list colleagues. Whether he’s conjuring up an image of Michael Jackson hiding behind the mixing desk or opining that Eighties videos were “the greatest repository of arse known to mankind,” he says nothing that he might regret later.

With a book due to come out next year, and a name perfect for comedy, Pratt is finally emerging from session-musician obscurity. Expect to see more of this cheeky chap.

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NAME-DROPPING PRATT HOLDS BACK THE GOOD STUFF

By Bruce Dessau, Evening Standard 14.11.06

It is uncool to namedrop, as Mick Jagger told me. But this does not stop Guy Pratt. The amiable, much-travelled bassist has turned his well-honed après-gig anecdotes into a show and forthcoming autobiography. Maybe he is saving the choicest cuts for the book, because the stage version is decidedly sanitised.

After a nervous start, he soon warmed up his audience. They were clearly not that enthralled by Pratt’s childhood tales of accompanying the prized family stereo, but a winning recollection of literally co-writing a Jimmy Nail hit in his sleep and a funny history of funk broke the ice.

While much of the banter was mild-mannered, some snippets shone, such as Madonna’s in-studio mantra “Time is money and the money is mine” and memories of Michael Jackson hiding under the mixing desk. One unforgettable riff concerning poodle-coiffured “cocksman” David Coverdale was even worthy of Spinal Tap.

Apart from those peaks, however, this was a scandal-free zone, punctuated by eloquent snatches of guitar. Pratt clearly knows where rock’s bodies are buried, but who can blame him for not letting on? If the comedy does not pan out he may have to stick to his day job.

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�Bass players are ten a penny, but a good wit is hard to find,� David Gilmour has said of Grammy Award winning Guy Pratt, and what’s true of bass players is doubly so for Fringe comedy shows. So thank God Pratt’s taken time out from his duties with Bryan Ferry, the world’s smoothest Geordie, to regale us with his life as a sought after musician in My Bass and Other Animals. It’s a tricky balance to strike, sharing anecdotes about David Bowie and Michael Jackson without sounding like a smug tossrope. Luckily for us Pratt doesn’t even get close, coming across as the world’s coolest uncle, his delivery warm and assured, if lacking the final polish of veteran stand-ups. He has every reason to brag, he’s seen some pretty out-of-hand stuff over the past quarter century. As if that wasn’t enough he has an effortless skill with the bass that leaves the audience with no choice but to clap wildly after every mini-performance he treats us to. Sure, comedy aimed squarely at the Q crowd is never going to change the world, but how often do you get to hear a first-hand tales about Madonna’s idea of a wake-up call (�Time is money and the money is mine!�) the hereditary insanity of the Womack soul clan, songwriting with Jimmy Nail (the world’s second smoothest Geordie), or Michael Jackson’s unorthodox approach to auditioning prospective band members? What’s truly refreshing is that Pratt is no music snob, at home with the finest in disco and funk as much as his more �serious� gigs with the likes of Pink Floyd and Roxy Music. He clearly loves his work, his boyish enthusiasm endearing and infectious. Ultimately a fascinating glimpse behind the rock�n’roll curtain, rather than a hour of full-on funny, this is undoubtedly an hour well spent for most, if a little incomprehensible to certain age groups. If you don’t know your Duran Duran from your Steely Dan, you might be in a wee bit of a pickle. For everyone else, get yourselves front row tickets to the cosiest stadium show in town. Fest****

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“An hour of rip-roaring anecdotes from a professional bass player who co-wrote a song with Jimmy Nail? No, come back! It’s better than it sounds, with the speed of Guy Pratt’s nimble fingers on his instrument (ahem) surpassed only by his ever ready wit. Stories of ridiculous egomania involved in working as a live and session musician with the likes of Madonna, Pink Floyd and Michael Jackson could have easily made for a dry article for a mature music magazine. The upshot, however, is consistently top-flight comedy and gives Pratt – and his audience – the last laugh of all. The List ****

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By Ed Caesar

Published: 18 August 2005

Guy Pratt is in a dingy punk club in London in the late Seventies when a punk called something improbable like Poison Hatchet approaches him. “So what’s your name?” says the Mohawk. “Guy Pratt,” replies the cowed bassist. There is a pause before the Mohawk replies: “That’s brilliant.”

The punk-moniker anecdote is a perfect microcosm of Pratt’s wonderful show, an hour of stories and sublime bass-playing from a man who has stood in the wings of recent pop history. From Madonna to Michael Jackson, Ice House to Pink Floyd, Pratt has played bass with them all. And, like the shy teenager with the punk name, one senses that Pratt has been a hero by accident rather than design.

But what tales he has to tell. It’s hard to pick a favourite. Is it the story of playing a festival with Crosby, Stills and Nash, only for David Crosby to spend his entire time in Pratt’s caravan putting the gas hob to insalubrious use? Or laying down a bass track for a Michael Jackson song, as the star issued instructions while hiding behind the amp? Or perhaps being asked out on a date with Madonna, only for there to be no photographers to catch the glorious moment?

The refreshing aspect of this pop-anorak heaven is Pratt’s modesty. “When I started out”, he admits, “bands recruited a roadie and a lawyer before a bass player.” Funny, then, that Pratt is now the star attraction. The Independent****

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Room for Humour in Music 01 Sep 2005 reviewer: Marc Jones, Wales

Good Job Guy. Having seen you at your day job, I think you’ve found a niche to bring in some sterling while waiting for David Coverdale, Jimmy Page and Robert Palmer to go on the road again. Only complaint was the badly laid out venue. Didn’t get to see any of your fingerwork.

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Great fun 30 Aug 2005 reviewer: Dave Fussell, UK

Was sceptical before i went in. I shouldnt have been. great stories to tell as well as nice tunes!! Why cant all musicians be this relaxed!!!!!

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Bass – the Final Frontier 29 Aug 2005 reviewer: Adrian Bannister, United Kingdom

Never heard of this Guy before (believe me, the name would stick!) so a step into the unknown for me. What a great step! Absolutely superb. Some great anecdotes. Warmed to Guy immediately. Obviously a very talented musician too – the Les Dawson ‘out of tune’ playing is incredibly difficult, though it seems to come naturally to me! Like previous reviewers I could’ve listened to him for hours. Highly recommended!

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Great name 29 Aug 2005 reviewer: Christopher Windmill, Wales

Not being a huge fan of music I went along with friends expecting to be mildly amused. Turned out I was wrong, this was fantastic entertainment. The stories were humorous and opened up the world of the rock star. Far from dark days for a cocksman. Cant wait for part 2.

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Awful title, reasonably entertaining show 23 Aug 2005 reviewer: Kris, Boston, MA

This was a bit of hit and miss for me. As guy points out, noone really wants to play the bass in a rock band; they kind of take it up by default. But then Guy goes on playing a bunch of bass riffs – bass riffs are pretty boring unless there’s some accompaniment (which he also does point out, in his defense). What I loved the most though were his stories about Michael Jackson, Madonna, Pink Floyd, Icehouse and others. That’s what really made Guy endearing and he lights up when he tells them In all, a very different show from what I’ve seen at the Fringe. Plus Guy’s had a very unique life and for that alone he deserves to tell his story and receive praise. Call Flea in the Chili Peppers and let him know he’s not the only cool one who plays Bass.

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I could listen to Guy prattle for hours! 21 Aug 2005 reviewer: OldFloydFan, Scotland

This show is fantastic, the only problem being that it is too short! I could have listened to Guy Pratt’s stories all night. I’m aged 43 and his recollections involved bands of my era. He littered his delivery with snippets of bass playing that were both highly amusing and technically brilliant. Tales of rock “n” roll life including occasions when the members of Pink Floyd (and GP)played at trying to see who could be the last man standing when their plane took off, as well as recollections of the idiosyncrasies of musical divas with whom he has worked, all combined to leave a huge smile on my face as I left the show. Go see it!

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Humor on the rocking road 17 Aug 2005 reviewer: Sean Davis, USA

This ranks 32nd of the 69 acts I have seen so far. Rankings and similarly short reviews of all the shows I have seen can be found at http://wwwcsif.cs.ucdavis.edu/~davis/fringe/Reviews.htm Guy provides humorous anecdotes and short bass riffs from his long career. He starts with childhood, works through the Australian hit band Ice House, and his time with Pink Floyd, Madonna, and even Michael Jackson. I think a fan of the musicians of the 1970�s and 1980�s would give this five stars, but some of the celebrity references were lost on me. (Aug 16)

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Just marvellous 14 Aug 2005 reviewer: Russell Hall, U.K.

Guy deserves the acclaim he’s getting. It’s just a pity he has so little time to fit it all in.The show could go on ’til Midnight and Guy would still be ready to tell more.

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One of the Greats 14 Aug 2005 reviewer: Heather Owen, UK

It was like meeting one of your greatest heroes down the pub and having him happy to sit and gossip with you. Great tales of great days.

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Hey little Guy! 11 Aug 2005 reviewer: Richard Burge, UK

Guy Pratt started out as bass guitarist for Icehouse (one hit wonders over here with ‘Hey Little Girl’, but they were big in Australia). He then went on to do session work with, oh, just about everyone famous who released a record in the 80s (Pink Floyd, Madonna, Michael Jackson, you get the idea). In this show he gives his tales from the road and has his bass on stage for some comical demonstrations of what famous songs’ basslines sound like unaccompanied. A marvellous raconteur, a talented musician, and one of the highlights of the 30 or so shows I’ve caught at the fringe this year.

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Very funny, very musical… 10 Aug 2005 reviewer: Jason, Scotland

Guy Pratt is a survivor of the vagaries of the music business and here to regale you with some of his best tales of rock star lunacy. Occassionally shocking in their sheer daftness Guy’s tales of rock star excess are hilarious, punctuated by his bass playing and own self-deprecating wit. For all those that prefer rock music that actually knows how to have fun (which is why the 12 year old Coldplay fan whom Three Weeks sent just didn’t get it…)