“The Man Who Was Screaming Lord Sutch” by Graham Sharpe (Aurum Press, 2005)

Screaming Lord Sutch committed suicide in 1999 at the age of 58 but although he lived on the periphery of fame for nearly forty years not much was ever known or documented about him. Yet, conversely, he was an endless self-publicist; playing the media to his advantage was his talent – actually his best talent.

Having known of him since his earliest record releases in the pre-Beatles days, I was surprised to learn that he was still touring round small clubs with his seedy rock horror act right up to the end. His more well-known political career as the face of the Monster Raving Loony Party was just in addition to this, for it made him little or no money – usually the reverse as he regularly lost his deposit.

Some people may have been under the impression, therefore, that he was a lord, an eccentric member of the aristocracy who could afford to go on losing. He wasn’t. He was born in humble circumstances in Hampstead in 1940 and his father died before he was two years old. He remained close to his mother for the rest of his life and her death in 1997 may have been a contributing factor to his own terminal depression. David Sutch was a likeable character and no one guessed that in private he was often fighting black moods.

Several members of his backing band The Savages (Beck, Page, Blackmore etc.) went on to more illustrious careers while Sutch meanwhile ploughed on, always finding a booking somewhere for his act but never getting anywhere near a big hit record. Sutch was a one-off who copied his title originally from Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, an American who used skulls and voodoo props on stage.

Strangely, the name of Screaming Lord Sutch may be remembered in a historical context over many others in British rock because of his political connections. Being a familiar face on television at almost all by-elections for the last forty years of the 20th century made him a household name and brought him a measure of fame far exceeding its worth. Even someone with a passionate interest in British politics would be hard pressed to remember the names and faces of an entire generation of members of parliament – let alone those candidates who were unsuccessful – yet they would probably all remember Screaming Lord Sutch.

Paul F. Newman

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‘To the top, Johnny!
‘Where’s that, fellas?
‘To the toppermost of the poppermost!’

John Lennon