
Photo courtesy of Ingo Baron.
I know that my late father (Ginger Baker) would want me to pay tribute to one of his two most enduring friendships. Here is my personal account of a close, yet relatively little known relationship.
From my earliest recollections of the early 1960âs, I knew the name of Charlie Watts. Apart from the fact that his mum knew my mum Lizâs aunt Pamela in Kingsbury, North London (where Charlie grew up), his proximity to where we lived in Neasden and was then The Bakerloo Line tube (now The Jubilee Line). He was revered in our house.
Charlie was forever credited with playing a major part in helping dadâs career on its upward trajectory. He had for some time very quietly admired dadâs playing in the smoky jazz clubs of late 1950âs London, where many of the seeds of the 1960âs pop culture revolution were being sown. In 1962, Charlie had secured a coveted place in the very happening Alexis Kornerâs Blues Incorporated, but he had heard about town that dad was at that time looking for a gig.
The following legend was told to me repeatedly by both my parents for many years to come:
Charlie said âIts not right me being in this band whilst such a great talent as Ginger Baker is out of workâ, and with that, he abdicated the hallowed drum chair to dad, even helping him set up his kit at the first rehearsal. âI could hardly believe it!â said dad. âOn my recommendationâ said Charlie.
Dad again expressed his gratitude to Charlie when they got on The Bakerloo Line together one night soon after. Charlie replied that he wasnât even sure he wanted to follow a a career as a professional musician as there was no security in it!
The postscript to this is even better and set in the legendary damp and dingy Ealing Club. Brian Jones (highly rated musically by dad) had got together with Mick Jagger and dad suggested to Brian they get a rhythm section. This they did, but in dadâs words, âthe drummer was fucking awfulâ âWhy donât you get Charlie Watts?â he told them and the rest is history.
As The Stones began gigging on the same club circuit, mum & dad would often join Charlie on those little red Bakerloo Line trains to and from Town. Mum recalled Charlieâs concerns that if he became well known, how would he be sure that a girlfriend would love him for himself? She assured him heâd be fine.
Years rolled by as they do and dad and Charlie bumped into each other many times. In the 90âs, when The Stones played in Colorado, Charlie took the time to go and visit dad on his ranch there, making him laugh by saying âI would give you tickets, but I know you wonât come!â In 2008, Charlie presented dad with his Zildjian Lifetime Achievement Award at Londonâs Shepherdâs Bush Empire. On stage they mentioned the âBakerloo Line daysâ again and backstage mum joined in with more, like any old mates reminiscing. For dadâs 70th birthday, Charlie sent an enormous white Orchid which still survives (flowering well) as âThe Charlie Watts Orchidâ. In early October 2019, as dad steadily declined, I reached out to a mutual friend to let Charlie know the lie of the land.
Soon after, my phone rang and a familiar voice asked âIs this Nettie? Charlie Wattâs here.â He spoke of his love and concern for dad and I gave him dadâs number (âhave you got a pen?â âhang on. Yesâ). Two days later, dad passed away. I rang Charlie with the news and he was so very sad, but glad also that heâd managed to talk to him. (of course we had a chat about aunt Pamela, Kingsbury and The Bakerloo Line.) âI thought the world of him.â said Charlie, âand he thought the world of you.â I was pleased to reply. The human face of âRock and RollââŚ. or was it Jazz?

















