Les McKeown enjoys his full English breakfast with noticeable delicacy, carefully slicing small strips off his fried egg, meticulously dissecting his grilled tomato, cutting his fried bread into perfect soldiers, while discussing his sex life in striking detail.
“I basically tried everything—threesomes, foursomes, women, men, all the extremes,” he says cheerfully. “At one point, there were entire rooms filled with girls, but I grew tired of that. It was way too much action…exhausting.”
“When I look back on it, it seems comical, really. A complete joke. But of course, it was brilliant fun. Being a rock star in the Seventies came with those expectations.”
For those younger than 35 who might not recall, Les McKeown was the lead vocalist for the Bay City Rollers.
The Rollers were known as the supposedly wholesome boy band from Scotland, famous for sipping milkshakes and Coca-Cola while sporting platform shoes, blow-dried hair, and terrible calf-length tartan trousers made from brushed cotton.
This same band, after five chaotic years, 70 million album sales, and creating more screaming hysteria than the Beatles and Rolling Stones combined with hits like “Shang-A-Lang” and “Bye Bye Baby,” imploded amidst a storm of drug abuse, alcoholism, lawsuits, court cases, and sexual scandals.
Even after more than thirty years, they continue to battle for over $100 million in unpaid earnings and royalties.
Today, at 55, Les is still quite lively, albeit slightly softer around the belly. He appears surprisingly unscathed,
although one can only imagine the state of my insides after decades of self-destructive excess, which peaked with cocaine and heroin binges, consuming two bottles of Wild Turkey bourbon daily, being “banned for life from Butlins due to lewd behavior,” and a rehab stint in 2008 during which his withdrawal symptoms were so severe that he was strapped to his bed for the first few days.
“It turned out I wasn’t really an alcoholic; I was filled with guilt and low self-esteem. One of the primary causes stemmed from issues with my former manager, Tam Paton, and all the band’s dramatic ups and downs.”
This may sound like a dubious excuse for some truly shocking behavior, yet it was filled with significant “ups and downs.”
For instance, there were screaming arguments with bandmates Eric Faulkner, Stuart “Woody” Wood, and brothers Alan and Derek Longmuir; cocaine-fueled orgies; and arrests for running over and killing a 62-year-old pensioner in 1975; for allegedly shooting a fan in the head with an air rifle in 1976; and for throwing a beer can at fans in 1983.
Not to mention his reported rape by Tam Edinburgh’s version of the Beatles’ gay Svengali, Brian Epstein, in a hotel room in 1977, and Les’s sexual encounters with actress Britt Ekland.
Additionally, there were the frenzied fans who would invade his hotel rooms, and the time his U.S. promotions manager threatened him at gunpoint. As Les puts it, “It was the ultimate rock ’n’ roll movie, but it was never filmed.”
Goodness. And it all began so innocently…or so it appeared from the outside.
In November 1973, they were simply five decent lads from Edinburgh, hardly out of their teens, dressed in tartan trousers crafted by Les’s deaf tailor father and sweaters knitted by his mother, with a name chosen by throwing darts at a map of America.
No one drank, smoking and girlfriends were forbidden by Tam, and maintaining shiny, clean hair was mandatory, and just three months afterSigned for £10-a-week as the lead vocalist, Les found himself performing on Top of the Pops.
‘All of a sudden, we became the biggest band in the country, the biggest worldwide.
‘We never carried cash; if we desired something, all we had to do was point, and it would be brought to us—whether it was a Porsche, a Jensen car, clothes, food, or booze…though ironically, none of us actually drank at the start. So all those stories about milkshakes were indeed true.’
However, internally, chaos reigned.
‘From the very start, it was always me against the rest of the band,’ Les explains. ‘We disagreed on everything.’
Disputes erupted over who received the most fan mail (it was Les), who had the most close-ups on television, which songs should be recorded, which venues to perform at, who held the prime position on stage, and who possessed the greatest talent.
Most contentiously, fierce arguments erupted over sex. According to Tam’s strict regulations—implemented by forcing them to share rooms so he could monitor them— sexual activity was strictly prohibited.
‘It was sheer madness,’ Les reflects. ‘We were rock stars; why couldn’t we act like it?’
Yet, they weren’t exactly rock stars; they were the Bay fucking City Rollers, performing pop songs that ultimately haven’t stood the test of time.
While the others adhered to the rules, Les rebelled, sneaking out for numerous escapades, driving his bandmates crazy. When they toured America in 1977, he fully embraced everything available to him.
‘It felt like we went to America and never returned. Everything shifted. Everyone altered. Everything was easily accessible. Someone was always around offering a little vial with a “you need to try this stuff; it’s fantastic.”’
And so they did.
Before long, Les was consuming six grams of cocaine daily, smuggling it through airports tucked in the turn-ups of his tartan trousers, living separately from his fellow band members, and partying with the likes of Jack Nicholson, rock icon Alice Cooper, Ringo Starr, and the Rolling Stones.
‘I had a great time with the Stones; we did some drugs and so forth. They thought I was amazing because Keith Richards’s bodyguard burst a blood vessel in his leg, and I saved his life by creating a tourniquet with my tartan scarf!’
Women were everywhere. ‘Fans would knock at my door saying, “please sleep with me,” and girls flew from Japan pleading for me to take their virginity.’ And did he go along with that?
‘It would have been rude not to. Let’s be honest, sex isn’t solely about love. It can be independent. Completely independent, in fact.’ And he wasn’t just getting attention from fans either.
His six-month romance with Britt Ekland drew substantial attention—not only because she was a Hollywood A-lister 13 years older but also due to her knack for juggling multiple lovers…including Les, her housekeeper, her son’s nanny, and even her beautician.
Nowadays, Les tends to blush and get fidgety at the mere mention of her.
‘All I can say is she was a wonderful lady and she treated me very, very well.’
Were all the stories accurate? Including the one about the enormous wine goblet in her living room that always contained at least $90,000 of cocaine in hefty sachets?
And what about him being involved with Britt’s then 16-year-old daughter, Victoria?
‘Er, yes,’ he stutters. ‘The guys would say, “Les has gone all Hollywood,” but why shouldn’t I? We were rock stars in Hollywood during the Seventies!’
Perhaps it’s no surprise that his relationships with the other band members quickly deteriorated.
‘We couldn’t stand being around each other. I ended up rehearsing in a studio in Hawaii while they practiced in LA.’
During their 1978 tour of Japan, things spun so far out of control that Les resorted to bugging his bandmates’ hotel rooms. In retaliation, they turned off his spotlight on stage and unexpectedly changed the key, causing him to sound off-key.
‘We had countless arguments on stage, pushing each other aside and fighting for our spots. They had their security, and I had mine. It was madness.’
And it became untenable, even for a wild rock band.The band, however, led to Les writing to the others, proposing that they all depart. In response, they threw a custard pie in his face during a live broadcast and sent him a letter of dismissal.
Thus, it was settled. After five years of luxury and invoking a snap of his fingers for whatever he desired, Les found himself out. “When it ceased, everything ceased,” he recounts.
With an American Express card from a fantastic two-week stay at the Hermitage hotel in Hollywood, which had accumulated $50,000, he noted, “especially enjoyed the Jacuzzi on the roof,” only to find no one covering the bill. Tam managed everything, so it all vanished.
“My house got repossessed, and Tam held power of attorney for me. He had the authority to manage my bank accounts.”
The band engaged in continuous arguments and lawsuits until their finances dwindled, leading them to reunite in 1985 for a disastrous tour in Japan and Australia.
“It was a disaster. None of us had matured. We were still like children.”
After innumerable disputes and headbutts, that was genuinely the end. Scotland’s most successful rock band went their separate ways.
Currently, Eric writes folk music and tours with his group. Woody operates a music production company in Edinburgh alongside his wife Denise. Alan had been a plumber until a heart attack necessitated his early retirement. Most disturbingly, during the entire unfortunate saga, his brother Derek, then a hospice nurse, received a sentence of 300 hours of community service in 2000 after confessing to possessing child pornography.
In the meantime, Les made various attempts. He married his long-suffering Japanese girlfriend Peko and formed a techno band
named The Tartan Army, where he appeared on stage from a coffin adorned with fairy lights, continued an unending series of gigs, and fought a long battle against drugs, alcohol, and bisexuality. “I did a bit of a George Michael, but rehab took care of that. Sex isn’t my primary focus any longer.”
After yet another expensive lawsuit against Eric to secure rights to use the Bay City Rollers name for his current band — Les McKeown’s Legendary Bay City Rollers (with Les being the only original member) — he now radiates happiness about recovery, fresh starts, and redemption.
He even expresses enthusiasm for a reunion tour, although the others are not interested.
And are they still, well, to put it lightly — interested?
“Some throw their knickers, but it’s mostly in jest these days. There was one woman who tossed a giant bra, and I thought, wow, that’s enormous, and when I glanced over, she had them out!”
Was she an original fan?
“Well, she appeared quite fit, so she couldn’t have been that old, ha ha!”
Finally, what does he believe was and continues to be the appeal for all those women (he once optimistically estimated having been with over a million)?
Is it his good looks, his enduring boyish charm, his playful chat, or his fame?
“The fame,” he replies without a moment’s hesitation. “That’s all it is. That’s all it ever was. It wasn’t truly about me.”
But doesn’t this concern him?
“No. Anyone in this cafe would have acted in precisely the same way, I assure you,” he remarks, gesturing toward fellow diners enjoying their chips and beans. “Each and every one of them would have jumped at the opportunity if it had come their way.”
I can’t shake the thought that they would likely be much happier that it never did.
by Wallace MvTavish
