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[0:00] Tim Rice: Hello, this is Tim Rice, and this is Episode 71 of my podcast, Get Onto My Cloud.

[0:16] Tim Rice: Well, how did it go? My world tour, that is. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then I suggest you listen to Get Onto My Cloud Episode 70 before you listen to this one, number 71. In the earlier chat, I revealed that I was about to visit four theatres in England with a new show entitled Circle of Words, which I now think is not a very good title. Punters seeing posters in Northampton, Wolverhampton, Malvern, and Newcastle. Tim Rice, Circle of Words, one night only, may well have assumed I was giving a lecture, rather than presenting around twenty songs, for which I wrote the words, sung magnificently by four superb singers, backed by the tight, subtle, and powerful Duncan War Band. So, tickets didn't go like hot cakes, although we had a good crowd for every show, whose enthusiasm at the end was indisputable. I never thought the encore we'd rehearsed would ever be needed, but it was, every night, with the audience on their feet.

[1:17] Tim Rice: The four dates in one week were very much a trial run, to see if the concept worked. The concept, that is, of me chatting about my life and times, for a couple of hours, about the great composers I've worked with, and how the stuff I've done with them happened, or nearly didn't happen, accompanied by cracking performances of the songs. And it did work, very well. I cannot recommend the longer tour we aim to present towards the end of the year too highly, even though it won't be called Circle of Words, but maybe something like My Life in Musicals, which at least explains what the evening's about. Circle of Words, as a title, is my fault, as I suggested it, hoping to strike a chord with Circle of Life, which it clearly didn't. Hakuna Matata would have been a better title.

[2:08] Tim Rice: On January 9th, I had a hip replacement operation, less than a month before the first scheduled tour date, February 6th, in Northampton, at the Royal and Derngate Theatre. I was thus a little concerned that I might not be in a fit state to enthrall the good people of Northampton, as full recovery from a new hip is usually reckoned to be about six weeks. But the team had been selected, and began rehearsing the songs well before I was even able to stagger out of bed unaided. With a week to go before the opening night, the musical director Duncan Waugh and the singers came for supper at my home, and quickly demonstrated that the musical side of the show was in fine hands. All I had to do was to make sure I was reasonably mobile seven days later. I wouldn't be dancing or making any extravagant moves on stage, but on the other hand I couldn't stand still like a doomed colonial statue. I had to forget about choreography, having no wish to fall into the orchestra pit.

[3:04] Tim Rice: I didn't intend to write a script. Obviously I had to know in what order the songs were coming, but I was fairly relaxed about what I would say between numbers. This meant that no two shows, apart from the songs, were the same, and that the band and singers actually listened to what I was saying. Most of the time, anyway. The four singers were all West End veterans, young and dynamic. Laura Tebbert, Shona Daly, Ricardo Alfonso, and Dean Chisnell. The only one I hadn't worked with in some capacity or other before was Dean Chisnell, who's played major West End roles such as Jean Valjean in Les Mis and in Shrek. Jean Valjean wasn't in Shrek. Dean played Shrek in Shrek. Dean was entrusted with Anthem from Chess on the world tour, and knocked them dead at the end of the first half. I've also heard that he's a fine opening batsman, so if he plays his cards right, he could be in my cricket team this summer.

[4:01] Tim Rice: Ricardo Alfonso was Judas in the recent Regent's Park and then Barbican productions of Jesus Christ Superstar in London, so his Heaven on Their Minds was a standout. He's of Portuguese descent, and alongside his glittering CV resume entries, he's currently head of musical theatre at Lisbon Performing Arts College. Laura Tebbert has a huge string of concert and theatre credits to her name, and there's barely a major theatre industry figure she's not performed with. As I record this podcast, Laura is about to join the forthcoming West End production of Mrs Doubtfire, and Shona Daly has a distinguished list of West End and concert credits, both in the UK and America. I first heard of Shona shortly after she'd been discovered by none other than Andrew Lloyd Webber. Andrew produced her first album and invited me to write a lyric for a new tune he wrote for the record. This was the result. A touch of love.

[5:19] ♪ Musical number: "A Touch of Love" — performed by Shona Daly ♪

[8:49] Tim Rice: Shona Daly, A Touch of Love, from an album of hers released around 20 years ago, and that was a rarely heard Lloyd Webber Rice number. Certainly not Shona's fault that it's rarely heard. The band for the tour was under the metaphorical baton wielded by orchestrator and keyboard maestro, and fine opening bowler, Duncan Waugh. It was fascinating how much variety and sheer power was extracted from just four musicians. Duncan himself was on keyboards that rarely seemed to make the same musical sound twice. His son Rob, I'm not quite sure how he got the gig, his son Rob was on drums and percussion. Rob was a master of his kit, and his percussion on all-time high reminded me of the late rock god Jerry Allison playing on Buddy Holly's Peggy Sue, in that on all-time high Rob appeared to be playing a packing case.

Stan White was on bass, I'll happily recall his fretwork when he played in the Orchestra for Chess at the London Coliseum a few years ago. Tim Maple, a veteran of theatrical concerts, and much else, on a variety of guitars, completed the line-up. I remember him particularly in Malta, helping to launch a ship. Musically, not physically.

[10:02] Tim Rice: We opened in Northampton on Monday the 6th of February. Northampton is, of course, the setting for Cyndi Lauper's musical Kinky Boots. I thought I'd throw that in. This entailed a drive of 62 miles from my home in Leafy Bucks. On arrival I met Denise Goodman, the tour's stage manager, and in effect director on the spot, and was escorted to my star dressing room. I must confess to being a little underwhelmed by my base camp, but as the week progressed I realised that the organisers of the Derngate backstage facilities were... how can I put it? They were not the only theatrical owners who felt that rudimentary comfort for sensitive artists was the best way to get their creative juices flowing.

As it was still just four weeks since I'd felt the kiss of the surgeon's knife, I was pretty careful backstage where black is the colour and cables and wires are strewn all over the floor. I decided that I would actually go on stage with my stick, which with luck would get me the sympathy vote as well as being quite a good prop. Greet the on-stage team, all singers and musicians present and correct, soundcheck, cheese sandwich, calls in quick succession for the first half and five minutes, check there's an audience out there, change into swung-off suit, entrust my every move to Denise, wait in the wings while the band belt out a Joseph medley, Dean introduces me at which point I then stagger onto the stage and start waffling. The show, the entire world tour, is underway.

[11:24] Tim Rice: A little shorter than Elton John's four-year extravaganza by about 612 shows, but three shows longer than any tour I've done before. Anyway, suffice it to say that Northampton went extraordinarily well and everyone involved gave their all successfully. Cheers and fans outside the stage door clutching long-deleted LP covers and bewilderingly unfamiliar photos to sign. Backstage afterwards, a few family and close friends who'd been in the stalls came to see me and they seemed as amazed and relieved as I was. There was talk of the Palladium, which I felt somewhat premature, but during the 62.5 miles home I felt relieved and annoyingly wide awake.

[12:06] Tim Rice: There was a two-day break before the second date in Wolverhampton, home in my childhood to the best football team in England, Wolverhampton Wanderers, the Wolves, captained by the England captain Billy Wright. I mentioned Billy and Wolves as soon as I could in the show that night to get the mob on my side. They were just as friendly as the Northampton lot, although to be honest attendance seemed slightly down. But the stalls had been craftily packed and the Wolverhampton Grand is a beautiful theatre, although I still felt that more had been spent on the front of house and the auditorium than on the backstage facilities. For the second night running we got an encore and a standing ovation during it. On top of that we had a five-star review of the Derngate show from an extremely perceptive fellow called Jonathan Baz, with whom I was thus more than delighted to chat to on his podcast. So, all in all, we were bullish.

[12:58] Tim Rice: Shortly after arriving in Wolverhampton, before the show, I received a phone call in my dressing room from the BBC who informed me that Bert Bacharach had died. This was pretty gloomy news to get just before a show. Would I come on to the Radio 4pm programme right now and say a few words? I was honoured to do so, not only because he was a great, great composer and because I was a great fan, but because I'd actually written two songs with him. Neither became particularly well known, although one, Walking Tall,

[13:29] Tim Rice: Featured in the film *Stuart Little*, sung by Lyle Lovett, and directed by one of the directors of the *Lion King* original animation film, Rob Minkoff. The other, "Who'll Speak for Love," had been a big hit in Holland, in English, sung by a very popular Dutch vocalist, Trintje Oosterhuis. I hope I've got that right. Obviously, I've been very excited by the opportunity to work with Bert, and a demo of Bert himself singing, extremely huskily, the first interpretation of "Who'll Speak for Love," is one of the most valuable items in my personal archive. And, um, so, uh, "Who'll Speak for Love."

[14:15] ♪ Musical number: "Who'll Speak for Love" — performed by Trintje Oosterhuis ♪

[18:40] Tim Rice: Trintje Oosterhuis singing "Who'll Speak for Love," music by Bert Bacharach, a very mid-period style Bacharachian melody. Trintje's recording was a substantial success in the Netherlands, as well as being the title track of her second album of Bacharach songs, most of them better known outside Holland than "Who'll Speak for Love." The song was also excellently covered by Australian singer Louise Anton. No one from the UK has yet got to grips with it, on record anyway. During the Wolverhampton show, I paid tribute to Bert, which was very warmly received. When I played "Who'll Speak for Love" to Duncan Waugh the following day, he thought it could be a good addition to the show. Wolverhampton, by the way, proved a tricky place to get into, and even harder to get out of, as all routes to the motorway south seemed to be closed.

But the reception given to the first two shows had been truly positive, no matter if the 106.8 miles each way didn't exactly flash by. There was one day off before the third show at Morvan, 108.4 miles. On that rest day, Duncan wrote an arrangement for "Who'll Speak for Love," and as we'd cruelly axed one of her numbers from the show, purely because of time considerations, we asked Laura Tebbert, assuming she liked the song, if she could learn it and sing it at the final show in Newcastle. She could, and did, wonderfully. Morvan went as well, if not better, than the first two dates. It also seemed like a virtually full house. I decided to stay the night in Morvan, as I was keen to attend the Sunderland home-match against Reading the following day, and Sunderland is just down the road from Newcastle, where the final gig was, or should I say Newcastle is just down the road from Sunderland.

I spent a most comfortable night in Morvan's cottage-in-the-wood hotel, and then hammered it to Sunderland, 238 miles, just in time to see the Black Cats hammer Reading, 3-0. Thence to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, ten miles, for a quiet night before the tour-closer on Sunday night, seven days after the opener at Northampton. Sunday daytime in Newcastle was considerably improved by another five-star review, this time in the *Mail on Sunday*, by Tim Delisle. If ever you've heard me criticise the *Mail on Sunday*, I've been misquoted. The fourth show went easily as well as the first three, and the overall experience has certainly given us confidence for a longer tour later in the year. I was particularly pleased that Stuart Brayson, my co-writer of *From Here to Eternity*, was in the Newcastle Theatre Royal, and that I was able to introduce him to the audience.

Ricardo gave my and Stuart's song, "Fight the Fight," his all, not only as vocalist, but with his own guitar accompaniment. I only hope I can get the same team reassembled for any future dates. Laura delivered "Who'll Speak for Love" superbly, as if the song had been in her act for years. I hope it will be now. I sometimes feel I've heard "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" on more than enough occasions to last me a lifetime, but when it's sung as well as Shona did, every night, I actually listened. And one of my particular favourites, in *Circle of Words*, still a terrible title, which was Dean and Ricardo and "It's Easy for You," the song that Andrew Lloyd Webber and I wrote for Elvis Presley. And Elvis recorded it, I hasten to add.

I can't believe I haven't worked with Dean before. He swears blind he hasn't been avoiding my shows, but I won't let him do so in the future. On the train back from Newcastle, 274 miles, I felt that the insane venture had worked well, clearly thanks to Duncan's selection of band and singers, who, perhaps most important of all, were delightful people to be with on or off stage. Denise, the infallible stage manager, and Justin, the sound maestro, were also crucial. We had covered just under a thousand miles in the seven days, and my hip and my stick had survived the course. I hope we give it another bash before too long, and I thank all those who came and sat through and stood at the end, not necessarily because they're in a hurry to leave.

For the record, we performed songs from *Joseph*, *Jesus Christ Superstar*, *Evita*, *Chess*, the James Bond movie *Octopussy*, *Aida*, *Beauty and the Beast*, and *The Lion King*, plus a few one-offs such as "A Winter's Tale" and "It's Easy for You," and, of course, "Who'll Speak for Love," and I arrogantly brought along an Oscar to show off, and a Grammy, and an Emmy, Mr. Tony, and my Mounted Cricket Ball Award as Bowler of the Year 1982.

[26:49] Tim Rice: Written and presented by me, Tim Rice, and produced by the energetic Peter Holtz.