Billy J. Kramer preserves his own British Invasion while commenting on Beatles-connected past

Billy J. Kramer’s name is not only synonymous with the first wave of the British Invasion, but also with the architects of that sacred scenario, John Lennon and Paul McCartney. After all, it was those two fabled individuals who gave Kramer the songs — specifically, “Bad to Me,” “I’ll Keep You Satisfied,” “From a Window,” “I Call Your Name” and “Do You Want to Know a Secret” — that launched him to international stardom. That music bears the extra distinction of having never been first recorded by The Beatles, given the fact that they were shared exclusively with Kramer and his backing band, the Dakotas, early on.

Being part of manager Brian Epstein’s star stable certainly didn’t hurt either. He also had the services of Beatles producer George Martin. To be sure, it was Lennon who suggested that Kramer, born William Ashton, add the middle initial “J” to his monicker, suggesting that it hinted at an extra edge.

Nevertheless, Kramer had the wherewithal to actually turn down the offer of a Lennon-McCartney song, “One and One Is Two,” in favor of recording the song that was destined to land him another stateside smash, “Little Children.”

While Kramer’s career has lasted through to the present, the various solo singles he did after splitting with the Dakotas brought him only modest success. Nevertheless, his 2016 memoir, Do You Want to Know a Secret, is a fascinating read, given that it provides an inside account of exactly what it was like to be part of that halcyon, history-making era.

Consequently, some may be inclined to think that Kramer lives in the past, and deservedly so. However, his latest album, tellingly titled Are You With Me?, finds him in fine form, courtesy of a set of songs that have him looking back while firmly engaged in the present. Goldmine was honored to have the opportunity to speak to Kramer and to have him share his memories of a time that was not only a decisive chapter in musical history but also part and parcel of the soundtrack to so many lives.

GOLDMINE: Congratulations on the new album. It brings back quite a few memories, particularly with the title track in which you recount your history and you don’t name-drop Lennon and McCartney. There’s another track titled “I Couldn’t Have Done It Without You,” which is presumably dedicated to your manager, Brian Epstein. These are very telling narratives here.

BILLY J. KRAMER: I’ve had that one for a number of years, just sitting in my library of songs I had in mind to do.

GM: You also released an album 10 or 11 years ago, I Won the Fight. Like that album, the new record was recorded at Abbey Road Studios. It must have been a nostalgic return to say the least.

BJK: Absolutely, yes indeed.

GM: So what was it like being back there after 60 years?

BJK: It brought back a lot of very fond memories. But it was also sad because being in the room where John Lennon was, and where I recorded all those songs that John gave me and him not being around anymore. It’s bittersweet and sad.

GM: So how long did the recording process take this time?

BJK: Three days. We were very well organized. Our producers made great demos for everybody, so everybody knew exactly what they were gonna do.

GM: And having Laurence Juber as a producer and guitarist and Steve Holley on drums provided another McCartney connection, given that they are former members of Wings. And then of course, the new album features your wonderful cover of Lennon’s “Jealous Guy.” It seems that in a sense the album has brought you full circle.

BJK: That was a song that I started doing regularly on John’s birthday. I’ve always paid tribute to John when I was doing shows on his birthday. I just thought it would be a good song to do.

GM: You certainly do it justice. Sometimes one hears cover versions and it brings you back to the original version. In this case, it stands alone. So are you a nostalgic individual given your storied past? Do you find yourself drifting back in time? Given what’s been written about you, do you ever think, “I can’t believe it. That was me.” Or do you simply take it for granted?

BJK: Sometimes I’ll go to that place momentarily. Something might happen to spark me into going. But it’s not like something I’m into on a daily basis.

GM: You got to know any number of iconic individuals more than most, be it Lennon, McCartney, George Martin, Brian Epstein. Do you have any insights or thoughts that people might not be aware of about how these folks were back in the day?

BJK: The fact that I was around these people at times, all the time made it seem like it was nothing special. We’d be on tour and doing two shows every day, week in and week out. It was just everyday life. When I look back now, and people ask me how I felt about it, I say it was history that was being made.

GM: Which begs the question: The time while you were so immersed in it, did you have any idea that you and your friends were making history, and creating a veritable musical revolution with what you were doing?

BJK: It never occurred to me at the time.

GM: And yet you had these songs that were written for you by Lennon and McCartney. Were you blown away by what they were giving you, and that these songs really stand out and were earth-shaking in a sense?

BJK: I look at them more like that now. But not at the time. When I look at Paul’s book of photographs and see the pictures in that book, I don’t remember him taking the pictures at the time.

GM: You were so young when all this transpired. You were like 19 or 20 and working for the British railway. Then all of a sudden, you’re stepping into the limelight as this very young man. How did that impact you, though, at such an early age?

BJK: Well, it was a lot to deal with. It was really overwhelming.

GM: Did you have other people around you to help you cope? Brian Epstein must have helped. But did you have a circle around you that helped you adapt and maintain your level-headedness at the time?

BJK: I’ll be honest with you. At the end of the day, it’s still up to you. I had all these people, but how much expert advice could there be? It was all new.

GM: Nevertheless, Epstein seemed to step right into his role.

BJK: Absolutely. He seemed to be very comfortable with it. It was uncomfortable for me.

GM: So when did you get over that? When did you ease into the fact that, OK, I’ve made it. I’m a star, and I can deal with it. At what point did that happen?

BJK: It took a while. It took a long time. Maybe on the last night of a tour.

GM: You were among the first artists in Epstein’s stable to come to the U.S. He brought you over in November of 1963. Was that strictly for promotion? Or were you performing over here at that time?

BJK: It was for promotion.

GM: That was an unsettling time due to the Kennedy assassination. It must have been a weird vibe because the country was in shock. Did you pick up on that?

BJK: Yes, I picked up on it. But sometimes when you’re on tour and so active and so busy, you can lose touch with what’s going on.

GM: So suddenly you go from working on the railway to being an overnight sensation. How did your family handle that?

BJK: People used to come around the house, a lot of teenage girls. My mum was very nice. She’d give them photographs and stuff.

GM: It had to be an ego boost for you. Here you were, this good-looking guy at the top of the charts, and the girls are going crazy for you …

BJK: I never thought of it like that.

GM: Do you have any of the fashions you wore, any of the memorabilia that you may have accumulated?

BJK: I don’t know where it went.

GM: Were you a frequent visitor to Carnaby Street?

BJK: Absolutely.

GM: You must have been aware that you were part of this incredible new wave, part of a history-making episode …

BJK: I’ve always been able to keep my feet on the ground.

GM: So do you ever have opportunity to reconnect with anybody that’s still with us, like Mr. McCartney, for example?

BJK: Occasionally.

GM: What was it like for you when Epstein died? Was it a point of reckoning for you? How did you transcend that moment, so to speak? How did you determine that your career could continue without him?

BJK: I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to do. I went with different agencies over the years. Some of them were pleasant to deal with. But it was never the same again.

GM: So after having all those hits, did you find that you were in a position where you had to live up to certain expectations? You had achieved such a high bar. Was it like having an albatross following you about? You released more music, but then you have to deal with not being able to hit certain heights like before.

BJK: It’s a bit frustrating. And you can’t go and bang people over the head with a mallet. But I’ve always tried to give 100 percent, even 150 percent. That’s what I do, and at the end of the day, you have to reach a point where it’s the best you can do.

GM: You needn’t worry. As evidenced by the new album, your voice is still as expressive as ever. So did you know early on that you had that gift?

BJK: If you can’t do that, what’s the point of doing it?

GM: Did you ever have singing lessons or a vocal coach?

BJK: I had them later on. When you get older, you’ve got to work on keeping your voice intact.

GM: So will you be touring now? And how much have you performed in recent years?

BJK: I have, but not to the extent of where it used to be.

GM: Many your contemporaries early on in the ’60s more or less evolved into a period of psychedelia, but it seems like you never really went that route.

BJK: No, I didn’t. Did you ever hear my big song “Town of Tuxley”? It was a bit different in that regard. And then I covered the Harry Nilsson song “1941.” But I never went full in. I might have worn a kaftan jacket at times, but that’s about it.

GM: So back there at the beginning, was there any sort of feeling of competition, with your contemporaries — maybe not necessarily with The Beatles, but perhaps with Gerry and the Pacemakers or the Searchers or Herman’s Hermits and the like?

BJK: I didn’t that way. I mean, I would listen to the records and stuff, but to me, everybody was different and that’s why I didn’t feel that way. They were all unique in their own particular way. I was focused on what I was doing. I’ll be honest, there were times when I wanted to do different things, but Brian and George Martin were against it. They were like, “You’ve got this winning formula.” But my attitude was always trying to make a change. Yet when you’re successful, it’s wait until you have a few duds and try to make a change then. I felt that the public would be more accepting of something different.

GM: So aside from the Lennon-McCartney song you turned down, were there any other unheard treasures of theirs that you were given?

BJK: They put out one on a box set, a song called “I’m In Love.” That came about when I was finishing a session, and they came in about 50 minutes later. It was less time than we needed to put a rhythm track together. I don’t know why. But for some reason, I never went back to it. Eventually they gave it to the Fourmost. I don’t know why I never went back to it because it’s a great song.

GM: It’s certainly nice of John and Paul that they thought enough of you to give you these unreleased songs.

BJK: The last time I saw Paul, I was in his dressing room and [he] introduced me to his wife, Nancy [Shevell]. I’d never met Nancy. He said, “You know, when John believed in a song, he’d start singing it. So John and I would sit down and write it.” Having the first shot at a Beatle song was all in the infancy of all of this. I didn’t really think, “Hey, I’m getting a Beatles song,” because they hadn’t hit that star strata.

GM: Do you have any of those demos in your personal collection?

BJK: No. They just came to the studio and played the songs. They would sit and play them on the piano, and then we’d return and record them with the band in like three hours. George Martin was very hands on when it came to putting them together.

GM: So are the members of the Dakotas still with us?

BJK: They are, all but one.

GM: And do you maintain any contact with them?

BJK: I met up with them some years back, but that was just a one-off thing, and that was it.

GM: So what was the reason for the split? Was it that you just wanted to go in a different direction?

BJK: It was never a happy working relationship. They had a record deal with EMI. George Martin connected us. I didn’t think they were that great. They did a very good job in the studio, but they weren’t very creative. They didn’t put a lot of effort into recording, which I didn’t like. I thought that they could have, but they never wanted to rehearse. Still, it was a great working relationship. With The Beatles, you had that group dynamic, and each of them had their own personalities and their own input into the music.

GM: Your first real band was called The Coasters. Were they at all upset when you left them behind?

BJK: Not at all. They had other careers that they wanted to pursue. It was as simple as that.

GM: When you go out and play a gig, do you have a regular backing band?

BJK: I use different people.

GM: Here’s a trivia question. When John Lennon gave you the “J” in Billy J. Kramer, was it meant to stand for something specifically?

BJK: He said it stood for “Julian.” But I didn’t like that name. So I just kept it as an initial. 

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