You make me feel like answering: an interview with Leo Sayer, Guilfest, 2025
Image: Jayne Houghton
Have you ever walked across an entire music-festival site with Leo Sayer? Not easy to sort out but it’s highly suggested if you can wangle it. With every step you tread you feel a force-field of bonhomie developing ahead of you. “Hello Leo!” “Hey Leo, how you doing?” “Here he is – it’s Leo!” “Bloody hell, Leo Sayer!” Etc, etc. None of this is a hassle for Sayer. He knows how to deal with it and it doesn’t faze him. In fact, he welcomes the attention. Twice No.1 in the UK charts, twice No.1 in the US charts, he is a performer of the people and is happiest with a mic in hand addressing the public. He’s 77 going on 17, a Peter Pan practitioner of universally known hits.
I first catch sight of Sayer backstage by his impressive Irish-registered tour bus. He is in conversation with ‘Woody’ – Stuart Wood, the 69-year-old guitarist with Bay City Rollers who are on-stage imminently. I ask Woody about pre-gig nerves. “Never admit you’re nervous,” he tells me. “Tell ’em you’re fine. Nerves are good for a performer. It lifts you, makes you better able to do the job. You need those nerves.” This is all good info because Leo is probably the biggest star I’ve interviewed in terms of record sales. Here’s our 30-minute chat…
You’ve come a long way to be with us in Guildford today.
I live in Australia but it’s lovely to be back in England. It’s my first gig here in about a year.
Have you played in Guildford before?
Well, I came here to see Nile Rodgers and Chic – who were at Glastonbury this year. They played at Guilfest… it must have been around 10 years ago [13 years ago – 2012]. It was fantastic. It was great to see them then, and there were huge crowds here.
Shall we be topical? Oasis played in Cardiff last night. Do you know how many records Oasis have sold?
No idea.
Seventy-five million. Do you know how many records you’ve sold?
Go on.
Eighty million [audience cheers].
Ha – I’ve been going longer than they have though.
A little bit longer.
Next year, Endless Flight, which has the song “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing” on it, it will be its 50thanniversary.
You’re looking good though, Leo. You’ve had No.1s in the UK and America – what happens to you when you have No.1s in the US? How does that change your life?
The first time I went to America, I didn’t have a No.1 but a group called Three Dog Night had a version of “The Show Must Go On”, which was my first hit – and they did their own version but they’d changed the words completely. So they were singing “I must let the show go on” rather than the original “I won’t let the show go on”. But that didn’t matter. It was a huge hit. So I went over to America and it was a shock. I thought someone had stolen my song. I didn’t realise that if you wrote a song, you’d make money out of somebody else singing it – you had the rights. It was a thrilling moment and I got to meet them at the end of their tour in 1974. They were really nice guys. Somehow in America a record would take months to get to No.1 because there were so many releases. It got into the Top 10, which was a real achievement.
You had No.1s in America in 1976 and ’77. Would you have to hit the road and visit TV stations and go on the radio?
Yes but you also had to do gigs, gigs, gigs. And the place was big in relationship to here. It’s still the same in America. People won’t travel outside of America – they won’t travel outside their own state. If you don’t go to them you’ll never be seen. I think the first tour that I did was for three months. We were playing big cities, four of five gigs in the one place, then you’d move on. It was an incredible experience.
Was it stressful for you? Nowadays we have what we term “mental health” – but how did you deal with the pressure?
You’re just hanging in really. I always say that plans are what other people make. There’s always an itinerary, a schedule, and you adhere to it. The challenge is to do it well. A lot of the time you’ll say, “Where are we going next week?” “Dallas.” And you’re like, “Alright, where’s that?” You’re just hanging in. It’s like being on a big roller-coaster, especially at the start of your career. We didn’t know a lot of things. We didn’t have the internet then, we didn’t have mobile phones and we didn’t have much planning going on. Everything came together at the last moment. Now I live in a big country. I live in Australia. It’s huge – it’s around the same size as the States.
How long have you lived in Australia?
Since 2005. I first went there in 1975 on tour. I was quite popular there so it’s a place I’ve always enjoyed being in. I basically needed a kick in the pants so I thought, “I’ll move.”
Do you get recognised as much in Australia as you do here? Because we’ve just walked across the Guilfest site and everyone was shouting, “Leo!”
I know, and the hair’s not quite so big these days. It’s quite something. In Australia there are people who shout from their cars, “Hey, Leo! [in Australian accent].” I suppose I am recognised. All those things are a plus though, aren’t they? Oasis are known for their coats and their sportswear.
I saw some of the clips of Oasis in Cardiff – Liam was in a coat. He must have been bloody boiling.
They must have been boiling, you’re right. They haven’t discovered T-shirts yet have they? There’s only one thing worse than being recognised and that’s not being recognised. You enjoy it after a while. You just soak it up. Most of the time, when you get there, it’s really nice.
You’ve been on the road a lot this year. Where have you been, where are you going?
It’s been about 15 dates. We’re doing three festivals. Here, Solihull and Wickham and we’re going to Ireland to do a few gigs that we wanted to do last year. The show here is special for today. The tour that we’re doing is a continuation of last year’s tour. We’ve called it Still Feel Like Dancing – God knows where that came from. I don’t really feel much like dancing but when the music starts, I’m alright. So it’s an extension, this one, of last year. After this, I go home in August, back to Australia. And then we’re here next year for a big, big, big, big tour of main cities. People were saying, “Why aren’t you playing Edinburgh?” So we’ll do that next year.
How do you keep up with it all – it’s obviously a punishing schedule.
I don’t think about it. I’m really happy to be doing this. I’m 77, you know. It triggers when you’re up there. I don’t get nervous any more. Jan [Riley], who looks after me, she knows. I slept all the way here. I’m saving my energy up for the show. You don’t know until you’re up there on stage – but the adrenaline takes over. I love my band. I’ve got the most fabulous band. They throw things at me musically. You get excited. The trick is not to anticipate too much. Be surprised – that’s the nice thing in my game. Every time I do these songs, I still enjoy them like the first time I sung them. I’m not fed up with them, which is good.
In fact, you’ve got two bands.
I’ve got one here and one in Australia. I divide everything at the equator. Jan looks after everything north of the equator and Mark [Sydow] looks after everything south of the equator. And they’re lovely guys in the band down there. I’m really, really lucky to keep the two bands, to be stable, the same people for the last five or six years – and that’s been fantastic. That’s a joy. You walk into a comfortable environment when playing live because everybody knows each other.
If you had to choose if one was better than the other…
Whooah! Cut, cut! I have a fantastic keyboard player down there who not only does rock’n’roll with me, and soul, but he does solo jazz concerts and solo classical concerts and it’s great to have all that knowledge from a musician. And my drummer here, Elliott Henshaw, plays all the big band gigs, plays with the Sinatra show and all of those things, and Bat Out Of Hell. So to get people with a lot of experience really helps. You know, they’re not kids, they’re grown-up guys, which I like, and I’m the oldest person there, of course.
Who masterminds your tour schedule and do you have any say in it?
We kind of engineer it ourselves. We’ve got a wonderful guy up north, in Yorkshire, who puts it all together. We’re a close unit. Jan and I plan a lot of stuff in advance. She’s tells me, “You can’t play there, cos that won’t work but you can play here…” But I’m pretty easy-going, you know. As long as they cover the country, that’s the most important thing. Hull, Aberdeen, Ireland – we’re doing Belfast as well. So long as I can spread it around the world. The good thing that I’ve got is that the songs are popular everywhere. I can go to Sri Lanka or China and it’s, “Oh yes, we know Leo Sayer.”
Your last UK No.1 was in 2006.
Yes, when I was a young man.
A remix.
Yes, “Thunder In My Heart”. These guys Meck liked the song. They did this version and jazzed it up, changed the tempo, filtered some stuff out. And it went to No.1. Crazy. I think it might have got to No.1 because I wasn’t here. Absence makes the heart grow stronger. I remember coming back to the UK and being on a Saturday morning TV show. Blue were on. They were being mobbed by everybody. Then I went on and I mimed to a vocal that I sung in 1977. How crazy is that? It was really weird – it was like time-travelling. But it worked – the song seemed to work. We did a nice video for it and it was pretty cool.
How long has the hairstyle been part of ‘brand’ Leo Sayer? I saw some of your crew wearing tour T-shirts with your head as a stylised logo. It looked fantastic.
Thank you very much. It’s a very old picture, folks.
Ever had a skinhead at some point?
I once had it straightened. All back, with a ponytail. It was crazy. Hardly anybody recognised me. It was pleasurable, actually. But no, it hasn’t really changed. We guys in the mid-Seventies made some fabulous records. Not just me but Marc Bolan, David Bowie, Slade, Mud, and then the soul singers like Joe Cocker, we all made fabulous records in the Seventies. We didn’t really know what we were doing. And that’s why we’re probably here today because we built it up and the popularity grew.
Could you tell us about the start when you first became involved with the record industry – how it happened?
I met a guy called David Courtney in Brighton who at one time in his life played drums for Adam Faith. Adam Faith was a famous pop star in the Fifties and Sixties. My band did an audition in Brighton, and David introduced us to Adam Faith. First off he wasn’t very interested. But then David played him some songs that he and I had done together and he said, “Right, you’re in the studio on Thursday.” So we made a record, which didn’t go anywhere. But when we started it was really quick. From the audition to going into a studio in Barnes was two weeks – and The Who were rehearsing next door. It was so exciting, you know. And I never looked back.
What were you doing at that point – how were you making money?
I was a graphic designer before that, a commercial artist. I used to do record covers for Island Records – Bob Marley and people like that. I never wanted to be a serious musician because I thought everybody gets ripped off. Within about six months I was ripped off. Inevitably it happens. But I had an incredible launch because Adam Faith had done everything himself. So as a mentor and a guide he was fantastic. I didn’t have much confidence but he gave me confidence. If you’ve got somebody like that, like The Beatles had with George Martin – what a great guy he was. Because he’s told them what works in the studio and what doesn’t, how to use the microphones and how to make records. You need someone like that in your life. Adam produced the first three albums. So I had this wonderful guide who helped me make records, managing me, taking me to America before I thought I was ready. All that worked in my favour. The first five years of my career were the most exciting. After ’77 it started to get professional. “It’s scary – I’m riding a horse that’s running away!” But it’s exciting.
You had an album out just last year, didn’t you?
Yes and I’m thinking of some songs at the moment for a new album. I’m going to do it next year. I haven’t told myself what I’m doing yet. And we’re looking at doing an anthology too. I can’t get over it – it’s something like 19 albums. It’s exciting for the future – there are still things to be done.
Have you written an autobiography?
Yes, but I haven’t released it yet. It’s part of the background to making a movie of Leo Sayer, where I can tell my story. But it’s not quite there yet. It may need another year or so till we get there. The book is just an autobiographical trip through my career. And man there were some crazy things. I feel I have to tell the story behind some of the crazier things that happened.
What might we expect to see from you today on stage?
We’re going to do all the hits, folks. And a couple of album tracks that work with everything else. You name it, I think it’s in there. There’ll always be something left out. We’ve got to be on before The Jacksons and Soul II Soul, you know. That’s the reality of life but I’ll try not to talk too much and play as many songs as I can.
Will you have half a shandy beforehand to loosen you up?
A few! I drink a ginger drink on stage but afterwards I get a little bit pissed, yes. “So what are we gonna do now?” “We’re gonna get pissed!”
Have you ever gone on stage in the past a little worse for wear?
Oh man, I can tell some stories. In those days in 1973, we all smoked funny cigarettes. I went and did the John Peel Show and I lost my voice because I’d smoked so much that day. I haven’t done that since. You learn to stay pretty sober. You’ve got to be the best you can be, you know. If I abuse my position, you’re not going to go for it, are you?
Did you sing as a kid?
I’d love to have been in a punk band. I could have done that. Johnny Rotten, watch out.
There’s still time.
I know. I could do, couldn’t I? We had a silly little band called The Barmy Nerds. We thought we would do that in soundcheck. “Waaaa-yaaaaa-waaaaa!” That’s it! I sang in a church choir when I was young. One of the wonderful guys was a priest who gave me some tips about singing. I had this soprano voice – “On the wings of a doooove”. I could do the high bits and that’s probably why the high voice stayed with me. It gets a little harder to sing falsetto now but it’s still there.
You said on the walk across here that you’d done some work with my favourite comedy character John Shuttleworth.
Yes! An amazing connection. [Woman gets up to leave: “Sorry.” Leo: “Don’t be sorry, we’ve all got to go to the toilet.” Woman: “The Bay City Rollers are on.” Leo: “Oh don’t risk that.” Woman: “I’ll come and listen to you on stage.” Leo: “Ahh, very nice.”] So he sent me a tape once, which was really funny. It was John Shuttleworth and his family, which was deliberately badly recorded and it was so hilarious, so I contacted him. He used to be Jilted John. He did “Gordon Is A Moron” in the punk times. He contacted me and he invited me onto his radio show. John Shuttleworth is not that different from the man himself, Graham Fellows. The accents are the same. You don’t know when he’s in character or out. He slips in and out of it. “Pigeons in fliiight”. He is a really funny guy. I sang a song called “Dandelion And Burdock”, which is the ingredients for a very unusual drink.
Very popular in the north.
Very popular in the north. But yes, lovely fella.
Where’s your knighthood?
I dunno. Well, there’s a few things. It’s nice to have ambitions. Even though I was born in 1948, I’m still looking forward to a few things. This business is funny. It builds up very gradually. You look at Rod [Stewart] now on the Glastonbury legends slot, and you have to be a certain age and in a certain kind of position to do that – and I’d love to do that. That’s the kind of thing I would love to be doing. I’ve still got the ability and I’ve still got the voice.
Audience member: I’m so nervous for you because I don’t know what your voice is going to be like.
Well, nor do I! Join the club! I look after myself. I have a wife now and she’s Italian. We eat really good food. If you look after yourself, you can get to this age and find you’ve still got lots of energy. Look at Mick Jagger. Five hours of yoga a day. I don’t know if I could do that, though. It’s inspiring when you get people of a certain age, like Dolly Parton. Neil Young – he’s 79 years old. He’s still doing all the songs. It’s an amazing show. What songs! Look at Bob Dylan. OK, he can hardly sing, we know that, but he’s still doing new records, he’s still got ideas, so this business can be very inspiring. I love Mick. Joni Mitchell. They’ve all still got it.
Time for a quick-fire round, Leo.
Yes, go on.
Can you name someone who you didn’t get on with in the industry?
Ooooh. Mick Hucknall. We were rehearsing in Ireland at U2’s studio. U2 are lovely people. But Mick Hucknall refused to say hello to me. But right at the end he came up to me and said, “I’m sorry about that.” Another one – Van Morrison. I once did an interview with him for a radio station in San Francisco. He was remarkably truculent and he’s famous for it. The moment the red light came on, I said, “So how’s it going?” And he didn’t say anything. He just grunted. Afterwards I said, “What was that all about, Van?” He said, “You gotta have some mystique.” He didn’t want to reveal himself in any way. But whenever I see him we always get on fantastic.
What car do you drive?
I drive a Volvo.
Does Madame Tussauds have a waxwork of you?
No. It’s interesting because I come from Brighton and the original Madame Tussauds was there and we’d go in and see all these dreadful waxworks. And in the sun they used to melt.
Do you have a pet?
I used to. I don’t have any more. Sometimes in Australia you can have a pet spider for a few days. And a snake.
Do you know all the words to the Australian National Anthem?
“Oh say can you see/By the dawn’s early…”
That’s the American National Anthem.
Oh, so it is. “Australians all let us rejoice/For we are young and free/Our land abounds with nature’s gifts/Ywywywywywywywy” – nobody does! When I became a citizen of Australia they asked me to open the race-horse season, where you have to sing the National Anthem. It’s a big deal in Australia. “You stand there – there’s the microphone.” I made the backing track myself so I wouldn’t have any trouble singing. The words were on the back of my hand but I sweated so much the words vanished. Then I couldn’t hear the monitor and it was just awful. Apparently, I did two verses and thank God they cut away. Nobody knows the third verse.
Thanks Leo, that’s all we’ve got time for.
Audience member holds up hand: “What’s your most memorable gigs?”
I think the first concerts that we did in Memphis in 1975. It was a little club. And everyone was so shocked at the Pierrot make-up. There was no applause. It was just complete silence. In a funny way it worked. I also remember tripping over at the Hammersmith Odeon and getting up with blood all over my leg – but the show was amazing. There was a brilliant gig in Moscow too because they all sang along. They knew the words to the songs. We had a Leo Sayer Sings album released in the USSR. Any more?
Audience member: Are you self-taught on the harmonica?
Yes, pretty much although I was a big fan of blues players like Little Walter. But I think you have to be self-taught with a harmonica.
Audience member: Did you ever speak to Michael Jackson?
I did a day with Michael Jackson and I interviewed him. We were doing a show called Solid Gold with Dionne Warwick. Dionne was hosting it and Andy Gibb was the other host. Andy didn’t make it to the studio so they asked me to co-host. And Dionne said, “We’ve got Michael Jackson coming in from The Jacksons.” Jermaine remembers this very well because every time I see him he talks about it. Dionne asked me if I wanted to do the interview. I was supposed to just talk to him for half an hour but he said, “Hey, let’s hang out together.” We ended up talking all day. He was lovely. Terribly shy, which you wouldn’t expect from a guy at the top of his career. Really humble and shy. I think he was like that right to the end. I wouldn’t say he was the most contented person but at the same time on the stage he was amazing, as we all know. He really became that person when he stepped on stage.
Audience member: Do you ever see yourself retiring?
No! To hell with that! I prefer to be dragged off stage.
Thanks Leo – we’ll release you now. See you later! Ladies and gentlemen, Leo Sayer!