
The bizarre tale of Joe Meek’s supernatural plagiarism claims against Phil Spector
The late Joe Meek was an English record producer, musician, sound engineer and songwriter, he pioneered the space-age style distinct and prevalent amidst early pop culture, and he near enough invented experimental pop music. Despite his creative achievements, Meek also killed his landlady, Violet Shenton, before turning the shotgun on himself in a murder-suicide fuelled by madness. There was more than a little trouble in this music luminary’s paradise.
Meek, as a character, resided at the confluence where talent meets with terror, and his life shines a light on the sins of society’s prejudices. It is no news to anyone that he is not alone in this regard, they’re enough examples of deeply troubled geniuses within the arts to seed a school of thought that a sump pile of psychosis is the integral fuel to spark the creative flame.
It is a school of thought that gains a lot of credence when you consider that his nettlesome American counterpart, Phil Spector, also lived a life of madness, masterpieces and murder. Aside from the biographical similarities, however, Spector and Meek were very different people, whose lives were spookily entwined, nevertheless.
You see, Meek was a pioneer during an era where music and technology were marrying together. He was a scientist of the studio, a protege of sound and sonics much more-so than a student of music. As session drummer Clem Cattini recalls: “Sound-wise he was a genius, musically he was a moron.” He might not have known a crotchet from a croquet stick but he could leave that to the musicians and perfect stereo-sound advancements to ensure that musicians like Cattini sounded like the technicolour future rather than the monochrome past.
In fact, although Meek is a near-forgotten name in music, in 1962, ‘Telstar’ by The Tornado’s became the first UK number one in the States, toppling Motown off the top of the charts and heralding the sonic transition from traditional techniques to formative newfangled ways. This was a huge moment in the incoming British invasion and Meek was the mastermind behind bands like The Beatles first muscling their way into foreign shores.
Thus, these advancements offered artists a premium, so it didn’t take long for producers around the world to quickly copy techniques. In Meek’s view, he thought Spector was copying them a little too quickly. With the pressure to produce constant hits amid the pop culture explosion causing huge stresses, a sort of feud would form between the pair and Spector seemingly lent into this.
These personal issues would begin to manifest in his life and work by the mid-sixties. Session musician Cattini recalls an episode in which Meek received a phone call from Spector and ended up smashing the phone – at the time an expensive device – to smithereens. He believed that the American producer was stealing his techniques either via his landlady acting as a spy for Spector and co by eavesdropping down his chimney, or that the producer had invaded his bathroom studio by supernatural means.
The latter idea came to the fore when Meek failed to find any of the covert microphones that Meek suspected Spector had hidden around his bedroom/bathroom-based studio. Naturally, there was no spying on any level—Meek’s mental state at this stage also had him thinking that Buddy Holly was visiting him in his dreams and that aliens were controlling his mind. However, the tale is one that shows how much pressure monomaniacal producers heaped upon themselves in this era of great sonic advancement. The sorry downfalls that followed show the dark flipside.