Until I was twelve years old, I studied in the French educational framework, where drama meant classical French playwrights. Going to the theatre usually meant shows such as The Sound of Music or My Fair Lady. Then, a decision was made that I would transfer to school in England. So, at thirteen, I arrived at Westminster School. It was 1968, and the world opened up.
I went to see a student performance of Waiting for Godot in French in a small room with a modest platform, and I was sitting at the rear. In terms of music, I was pretty sophisticated – I already knew all the experimental sounds that had been emerging. I’d seen the Mothers of Invention. I’d watched numerous performances. But I was unaware there was material of this kind. I quickly realized that, similar to music, there was a whole new world out there.
I don’t know how good the French was, but it really didn’t matter what they were expressing. It was just so conceptual and lively, with a sort of pent-up tension. And then, of course, it all explodes with Pozzo and Lucky’s arrival. The performance was staged by older boys, including Nigel Planer as Lucky. He was such a presence on stage. And he must perform that highly elaborate speech. In French. It was astonishing.
I loved the idea that very little needed to occur, you know? That an event took place and then it just goes on and then you have the little boy at the end stating that Godot is not arriving today. It spoke about time and action and plot. Or the lack thereof.
We had been instructed all these rules about what drama was, but they were irrelevant here. I was absolutely fascinated by how little was going on. Years afterward when I was mixing records, I would attempt to transform them into something similar. When a fresh sound came in, I’d remove other instruments and deliberately isolate them. So you clearly perceived that keyboard or that string instrument or whichever element. That sense of less is more … I learned that with Godot.
And yet it possesses a narrative. It truly does. I mean, they are fully realised characters. They are vibrant, the two protagonists, in their love for each other, like an old married couple. I can’t say how my life would have turned out if I hadn’t gone that performance. To that institution and that show then. It just awakened something in me.
We were released on weekend days, and I began attending matinees at the Royal Court every time there was a new production. So you would see works by modern playwrights. But the entry point to all of this was Godot.
I have minimal memory of the actual show, except I know that it was consistently engaging – it had me at the height of anticipation. What I learned is that there don’t have to be any constraints. It definitely influenced how I collaborated with the artists that I brought into my label. I even had the Waitresses write a song around that famous phrase. I just instructed them: “I want a song with this title.”
I think it made me more fearless, too, because you should not fret about setbacks if you embrace Beckett’s worldview.
