I first became aware of Bernie Tormé as the colourful high-octane guitarist with Gillan back in 1981 when I was 15, when the band’s cover of ‘New Orleans’ was zooming up the charts. Bernie’s utterly distinctive, fuzzed-up, glam-punk, hard-riffing, rock guitar was as much an intrinsic part of that band’s sound as Ian Gillan’s vocals.
A year or two later I caught Bernie live couple of times with his post-Gillan outfit Electric Gypsies for two incendiary gigs at Clouds in Preston. The second of these gigs led to my first meeting with the man himself. A small group of us hung back after the gig and I was to discover what a warm-hearted and engaging man this was. This was someone who took the trouble to chat to a bunch of half-pissed teenagers, who joked around with us but who took our questions seriously and seemed genuinely moved by our enthusiasm. And that night Bernie signed my copy of Electric Gypsies for me – which I still have.
Fast forward thirty-odd years and, following a couple of equally incendiary gigs at London’s Borderline, the indefatigable Peter Cook put me in touch with Bernie and I ended up being approached by him to do the PR for his Dublin Cowboy album. A few months ahead of the release date I’d been gearing up the publicity for the launch of the crowdfund appeal. However, such was the unwavering support and love coming from Bernie’s fans, that the funding target was reached in less than nine hours on day one. It was a joy to work on the campaign for the album and I saw at first-hand Bernie’s sincerity and generosity in the way he engaged with fans. Dublin Cowboy deservedly attracted some great reviews and Bernie gave some great interviews but when I sent my invoice for the amount we agreed at the end of the campaign he emailed me back to tell me to alter the invoice because he wanted to pay me more.
A generous, warm-hearted man as well as a wonderful, unique musician and a superb showman, Bernie Tormé will be greatly missed by many. A true guitar legend.