It’s Robbie and archive footage.

Plus a little bit of his wife.

 

I genuinely don’t know why people are so hung up about him being in his underwear.

It’s not like you can see anything other than legs!

He’s in bed - people don’t usually wear trousers in bed - because bed is a psychological safe space.

 

Also find it weird that you’d think that about his comments on Take That - I thought he was very kind to them.

He actually says that he was too young, and that he couldn’t handle the dynamics of the band, and that he was resentful and jealous.

 

 

 

Don't know where to watch it so will wait for a pirate version somewhere : ))

Finished part four and now am starting again to get more detail.

 

Ayda comes across very well on the last episode - she's very articulate. They're a great match.

 

The only other person I would like to have heard from was Guy.

 

Enjoyed all his film from Jamaica.

 

Agree with what others have said -quite a lot was jumped over -especially all the professional successes and awards of the last ten years.

 

What struck me was - how he was/is surrounded by decent, nice people who were looking out for him and trying to help him even when he couldn't help himself.

 

Overall enjoyable and a fascinating insight. We know from his recent Insta that he still battles with his mental health but he has his beautiful family behind him now.

Netflix success is measured in days within the Top 10.

 

Yesterday (first day) the documentary opened at number three on the Netflix Worldwide TV Chart, number four today (second day):

 

https://flixpatrol.com/top10/netflix/world/2023-11-09/

https://flixpatrol.com/title/robbie-williams/

Number One in:

 

Australia, Austria, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, Iceland, Ireland, Latvia, Lithuania, Malta, New Zealand, Norway, Slovakia, Slovenia, South Africa, Sweden, Switzerland, UK.

 

If he wants to go higher, promotion and general awareness will need to be given to regions outside Europe and Oceania.

 

 

Thanks for the links -it was interesting seeing all the countries that are watching the documentary. :)

 

I can't see how he will be able to go any higher because no one in US is going to be watching as they don't know him there and he's off touring Australia/NZ now so no time for promo.

 

Plenty of countries are watching though. Heartening to see both Canada and Mexico on the list. Well done to the Robster - I think he will be happy with that.

 

 

.

Edited November 12, 20231 yr by Laura130262

I hung out with Robbie Williams in the 90s – and saw him unravel

 

Music journalist Richard Benson on the dark, compelling pop star, his troubled relationship with fame and money, and why he’s as musically important as Kurt Cobain, Noel Gallagher or Thom Yorke

 

I first met Robbie Williams in a tatty bowling alley in south London in the early 1990s. Take That were promoting their first album, Take That & Party, and had just had their first top-five hit, but they were a long way from being mobbed in the street. Journalists were encouraged to direct questions to Gary, but Robbie had a strong, somewhat dark presence that commanded attention. He was fooling about with a bowling ball in a slightly alarming manner, laughing and cracking jokes, and it was hard to tell if the larks were an act, or if he was genuinely the always-on “Funny One”.

 

I decided it might be the former, because when we got talking, he was far more serious and reflective than his official persona suggested. He and Mark Owen described looking down at crowds of adoring fans from a tour bus window, and thinking it was all “just really weird”, and Robbie seemed very much like some 18-year-old from Stoke who’d had somehow got on the wrong bus by accident. In some ways, he had: he always wanted to be famous, but after it started to happen, he would develop a troubled relationship with his wealth and celebrity status. The bigger he became, the more troubled – and let’s be honest, more grimly compelling – it got. By the time he became the largest-selling and highest-paid pop star in the world in the early 2000s, he was suffering from a devastating combination of addictions, mental illnesses and eating disorders.

 

And yet the way he came over in the bowling alley that afternoon was how he would always come over, really: willing and very able to do funny, but always self-aware and not quite sure how to be when he stopped. It’s the conflict foregrounded in his new Netflix documentary, Robbie Williams (available to watch now), with its clips – already being endlessly shared and talked about – showing him exhausted and close to breakdown at the height of his solo fame. He has said himself the documentary is a tough watch, but it does finally reveal the real, divided character of perhaps the most intriguing British pop star of the last 25 years.

 

I was interviewing Take That for a teen pop magazine – if you worked in that field in the 1990s, it was inevitable that you’d interview them, as they did a lot of press. I crossed paths with them several times, but back in 1992, when they were just starting to have hits, they were still gauche lads from the North. Robbie (the band called him “Rob”) and Mark were by miles the best laughs to be with, and quite separate from the other three, which is why I was trying to talk to them. Nigel Martin-Smith, the manager who had put them together, came over and told me I had to talk to Gary more.

 

It was clear that the band was built around Gary, and you could see why later, Robbie would be so resentful and derisory about him. At that point, the “band” seemed very much divided into three camps: Mark and Robbie with the cheeky charm and good looks, Gary and Nigel who seemed to think they had the talent, and Jason and Howard the dancers. It would be nice to say that it was clear then that Robbie had the real talent, but we didn’t know then just how good his voice was and when it came to the looks, everyone actually fancied Mark. Robbie’s resentment at that stage was more that of the tearaway for their perfect cousin, but it would get much more bitter from this point on.

 

“I disliked Gary the most because he was the one that was supposed to have everything and the career,” he tells his ten-year old daughter Theodora Rose in the documentary. “And I wanted to make him pay. I was vengeful. By having the career that he was supposed to have.”

 

Robbie seemed more confident and relaxed when I interviewed the band again in the spring of 1995. They were huge now, with hits like “Everything Changes”, “Sure” and “Back for Good” under their snake-hipped belts, and they were generally liked even by people who disliked manufactured pop. It was significant that they had worked hard performing in gay clubs, and were openly proud of their gay following; the Aids epidemic, and the stigma that went with it, was still fresh in the memory, so there was an element of f**k-you bravery that was respected. They were also just so nice. Mark remembered meeting me before, Robbie didn’t, but when Mark reminded him, he apologised (“we meet so many people, you know”).

 

That interview, for The Face magazine, took place on a hot, sunny day in a glamorous photographer’s flat high up in Soho. He was still doing the gags but we had a quite serious conversation looking out over London from the studio roof, and again he talked about all the stardom as if it was happening to someone else.

 

Martin-Smith had worked them hard, starting at 9am through to club appearances at 1am for years. They had pretty much behaved themselves, and by giving the press the access they wanted (Take That had close relationships with the tabloid pop columnists), they kept any misdemeanours out of the papers.

 

Robbie always talked, slightly scathingly, about the media being like a game then. The problem that lay in store was that the mid-1990s was when the tabloids realised just how many sales there were in pop and rock; when he fell from grace, they wouldn’t be able to resist.

 

For in reality, of course, he was far from the cheery, confident chap he presented as. A few months earlier, he had confessed in an interview with my colleague Chris Heath that despite all the rumours about who he had and hadn’t slept with (he joked about sleeping with four out of five of the Spice Girls), he worried about his prowess. “I’m not very good in bed, seriously,” he said. “It’s a mind thing. It’s all very good leading up to it – I’m a good actor – but when push comes to shove, the shove doesn’t push.”

 

He also admitted to having a complex about seeming “ridiculously thick”, and a secret desire to be Bez in the Happy Mondays. The way critics automatically afforded indie and rock bands more respect than pop acts mildly irritated him, as you can imagine it might, given he grew up listening to electro, hip-hop and house music.

 

Looking back, it shouldn’t really have surprised anyone when, in 1995, he failed to attend rehearsals and instead turned up, hair bleached blonde, at Glastonbury, ending up on stage with Oasis. I was in the backstage area that night, and saw Robbie, swigging from a bottle of vodka, and hanging out with everyone. It seemed a great and glorious culture clash at the time, though I remember the snootier rock writers muttering: “what the hell is ‘he’ doing here?” At that point, Glastonbury would never schedule pop acts, and there was a real sense of a divide. Courtney Love let it be known that she fancied Robbie but “had a problem with the pop thing”. “Tell her I have a problem with the ugly thing,” he replied.

 

It seemed that he’d gone right off the rails that summer, hanging out with indie bands and enjoying all the associated lifestyle trappings. My editor persuaded him to do an interview with us, and after an afternoon drinking with him, Bonehead and Guigsy from Oasis, and Ant and Dec (at that point PJ and Duncan), she said he’d told her what he really wanted was to go home to his mum.

 

Robbie left Take That shortly after Glastonbury, and although the band tried to make it sound more amicable, a protracted law suit with Martin-Smith dispelled any ideas about staying friends. At first his solo career was unspectacular, with few sales outside the UK at all, but the bitter feud with Gary Barlow (the two have now reconciled) spurred his phenomenal drive. At the end of 1997 came “Angels”. A gigantic hit, that anthem sent sales of his debut album Life Thru A Lens stratospheric – it is the 58th best selling LP in UK history – and turned Robbie into a solo megastar. By 2002 he would sign the biggest record deal (£80m) in UK history, and a year later do the biggest set of gigs with three nights to 125,000 people at Knebworth.

 

And yet offstage, he was becoming a wreck. In 2004 he caused a stir in the press by admitting he was on anti-depressants (which were widely taken, but not really talked about in those days), but that was the tip of the iceberg; he is now known to suffer from dyspraxia, dyslexia, ADHD, neurodiversity, body dysmorphia, hypervigilance, hyper sensitivity, PTSD and to have an addictive personality. Little wonder that in 2007, on his 33rd birthday he checked into an American rehab centre for addiction to prescription drugs.

 

The signs of all this had always been there. As Robbie Williams shows, his sometimes tortured state took him to the edge: at one point, he reveals, his eating disorder was so bad that he was surviving on one banana a day.

 

Certainly, Robbie is a subject that repays our serious attention, and a man whose travails, although a greater spectacle than most of our experiences, speak to many people who have become victims of their own desires and personality disorders. It’s easy to forget how little talked about that stuff was prior to the 2010s. Robbie made it easier for people to be open about it, and it’s right his survival, and achievements are being recognised – now a happily married and sober dad, he seems to be more at peace with himself. In his crossing of boundaries, in his openness about his mental health and masculinity, and in his music, he has been every bit as important in defining music culture as his overly-flattered rock contemporaries like Kurt Cobain, Noel Gallagher or Thom Yorke ever were. Perhaps what the funny man needed all along was to be taken seriously.

 

Robbie Williams is available to watch now on Netflix

https://inews.co.uk/inews-lifestyle/robbie-..._from_Lifestyle

 

Thanks for this Tess -thisis a great read

 

Guy Chambers says Robbie Williams has “a self-destructive side” Guy Chambers opened up about his song-writing partnership with Williams in a new interview

 

By

Elizabeth Aubrey

11th November 2023

 

Robbie Williams former songwriting partner Guy Chambers has opened up about his relationship with Williams in a new interview, where he described the pop star as having “a self-destructive side” In a new interview with The Times, Chambers spoke about struggling with Williams’ addictions in the ’90s saying “he was the first person I worked with long-term who was in full-blown addiction, and I wasn’t prepared for that. It was very difficult.”

 

He claimed: “We’d wait three days for him to turn up at a studio. People would go around pubs trying to find him. He would turn up drunk. We’d go out and he would disappear on some mission. That happened in Robbie world.” Chambers reflected on the biggest hits they wrote together including ‘Angels’ and ‘Let Me Entertain You’, but how they split as a song-writing duo in 2002 when Williams’ addiction issues reportedly continued and “trust issues” led to a breakdown of their relationship.

 

Chambers went on to reflect on how they reunited a decade later but problems re-emerged when he claims Williams became addicted to pills. “I’d be behind him thinking he could keel over. He could die on stage,” Chambers told The Times. He added: “There were teams trying to help him, and still [are], but if he’s got it in his head to do something, he won’t listen. He has a self-destructive side.”

 

Williams, whose solo career began after being a member of boy-band Take That, recently brought out a new documentary on Netflix, offering an insight into his career, relationships, and struggles with mental health.

 

The four-part documentary, titled Robbie Williams, has been described by NME as “a persuasive account of the gulf that can occur between wealth and happiness, a simple sentiment that can be difficult to really feel.” In the documentary, Williams opened up about leaving Take That in 1995 when “in the middle of a nervous breakdown” – something he had previously spoken about to the BBC last year. Elsewhere in the documentary, Williams revealed that releasing ‘Rudebox’ was the “biggest regret” of his career.

 

 

https://www.nme.com/news/music/guy-chambers...ve-side-3536492

Edited November 12, 20231 yr by Sydney11

That interview with Guy in The Times is weird.

 

It completely fails to mention that they were working together just last year, and have worked together on 3 albums and a musical since 2012.

 

I know that Guy is notoriously tone-deaf, but it’s like he *wants* to fall out with him.

 

I'll update this post until the documentary leaves the Netflix Worldwide Top Ten.

 

The daily run is:

 

3-4-5-5-4-5-5-7-10-8-10-9.

Edited November 20, 20231 yr by nirvanamusic

Some parts I have read already in a Guy interview, some are new. Seems strange to me in some parts either.

 

Regarding the worldwide Netflix position: I never watch Netflix and usually also not the runs of shows/documentaries. Is this positioning good or not (more related to the number f days rather than the position).

//

Edited November 12, 20231 yr by Sydney11

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I'll update this post until the documentary leaves the Netflix Worldwide Top Ten.

 

The daily run is:

 

3-4-5-5.

 

How many days is considered a commercial success please Nirvana?

I found the Guy article interesting - he's presenting his "truth" just as Rob has presented his.

 

Most reminisces tally together. There are some different perspectives.

 

We probably didn't know the extent of Rob's health issues in 2017.

 

Different opinions matter -whether RW is happy with what Guy has to say - I don't know, but the story can't all come from one direction.

 

As long as their friendship is still intact -that's all that matters to me.

 

On another similar note, out of all the people Robbie said were contacting him with regards to the doc - I hope JW is one of them. :heart:

 

Bridgeton and Squid Game are two of the most succesful streamed Netflix programmes of all time and they managed 31,33 days in the Worldwide top 10.

 

Beckham was around 20 days.

 

That said, Robbie has achieved the best result (3) he can without a strong Americas, Asia or Africa showing. Therefore, the documentary is a success.

 

Think of it like a single which has a high opening, a hit, then gradual decline as opposed to a huge blockbuster.

Bridgeton and Squid Game are two of the most succesful streamed Netflix programmes of all time and they managed 31,33 days in the Worldwide top 10.

 

Beckham was around 20 days.

 

That said, Robbie has achieved the best result (3) he can without a strong Americas, Asia or Africa showing. Therefore, the documentary is a success.

 

Think of it like a single which has a high opening, a hit, then gradual decline as opposed to a huge blockbuster.

 

 

Yes, has been really well received :) , now look forward to the Knebworth gig next week on Netflix ..

"The first day was excruciating" – Guy Chambers on his long-awaited reconciliation with Robbie Williams

 

Netflix's new documentary shows how Williams and his most trusted collaborator fell out. He speaks to GQ about writing songs like “Angels” and “Millenium” together, the difficult years that followed, and their eventual reunion in the studio

 

By Elle Hunt - 13 November 2023

 

 

“At the time, we were in a band called Robbie Williams,” says Williams, in Netflix’s new documentary, of his key creative partnership.

 

Thirty years ago, Guy Chambers – then a jobbing musician with his own band, The Lemon Trees – was paired with Williams to work on his first music since Take That. The result was 1997’s Life Thru A Lens, cementing Williams as a credible solo artist and giving rise to an unbeatable run of hits: “Millennium”, “Strong”, “She’s The One”, “Rock DJ”, “Kids” and, of course, “Angels”. As Williams’ managing director, producer and primary songwriting partner, Chambers was pivotal in shaping Williams’ radio-friendly sound and vulnerable yet vainglorious persona. Their collaboration from 1997 to 2003 is now looked back on as Williams’ “imperial phase”, including by the artist himself. At the time, Williams called Chambers his best mate.

 

But director Joe Pearlman’s four-part documentary – drawing from tens of thousands of archive footage, shot largely by Chambers – also depicts the growing tensions in their relationship amidst Williams’ mounting struggles with addiction and fame, as well as its eventual, torturous breakdown.

 

Now – days after having watched the first episode alongside Williams at its London premiere, and binged the rest of the doc at home – Chambers reflects on that time from his Suffolk cottage, ahead of his own musical comeback.

 

GQ: How has it been, seeing that period of your life on screen?

 

Guy Chambers: I have mixed emotions. [Laughs] They were such seminal experiences for me – meeting Rob completely changed my life. That was the reason that I filmed it – I knew that I was in a different dimension, and I knew that it wouldn’t last long. [Laughs] I was amazed that I got to five years, to be honest.

 

Why did you think your partnership wouldn’t last?

 

I knew that Rob had quite a heavy strike rate, let’s put it that way. He would get through people, and I knew at some point he’d get through me – which, as you see, he did. Joe was very meticulous, for sure – but it’s a shame that the documentary didn’t state that, despite the difficulties we had on a one-to-one basis, we were still writing really well together.

 

The documentary emphasises “Angels” and “Rudebox” as the two poles of Rob’s career.

 

I was glad to see a little bit on “Rock DJ”. Our intention was to make a wedding song, one that everyone has to get up and dance to. The film shows how conflicted Rob is about it. He really wants to be the coolest guy in the room, but he also wants to be the most successful guy, and it’s impossible to be both.

 

 

The documentary emphasises “Angels” and “Rudebox” as the two poles of Rob’s career.

 

Whether you’re cool or commercial has to do with how you’re perceived, too. You don’t have a lot of control over that. It was frustrating how the press treated our music. I think Life Thru A Lens is excellent – the first five are all good – but it didn’t get particularly good reviews. If we were lucky we’d get three stars out of five, which I remember us both being a bit cheesed off about. Even “Angels” didn’t really get recognised until much later. It was annoying, but it bothered me much less than it did Rob.

 

Did you know “Angels” had that potential for impact when you wrote it?

 

It came about on our second day of working together. It was all a bit of a whirlwind but I was certainly very excited about it. It’s got a spiritual aspect. I remember Rob played it to a black cab driver, who said “That’s your first number one, Robbie!” Which, sadly, it wasn’t. It went to number four [laughs].

 

How did you approach the songwriting process together?

 

I would just sit with him, with a guitar or piano, and he would sing melodies at me. He would come up with lyrics almost instantaneously. When I met him he had a lot of ideas floating around, a lot of poems and lyrics. He’s a very natural songwriter – I would just try to keep up. “Angels” is a good case in point: he started singing the verse and I directed him towards the chorus. There was a lot of trust in the way that we wrote together. I think that’s why, when we split, it was so painful.

 

What’s your perspective on how that relationship breakdown came about? Williams says in the documentary that you thought you were “a band called Robbie Williams”, when he needed complete control.

 

I did think we were a band, that’s true. I’d created his sound; I put the band together. Things started going wrong, as he says, when we had a disagreement over “Come Undone”. I didn’t really get that song – I found the swearing really jarring. I told him that, and it didn’t go down well. I also tried to change some of the chords, and he took that personally. He said I was trying to ruin it. Which I really wasn’t! I was just trying to… I don’t want to use the word “enhanced”... I guess I was trying to make it more me. [Laughs]

 

So, if “Robbie Williams” was a band of you two, how would you describe your separate parts?

 

Well, he’s obviously the frontman – the loudmouth, the face, the voice, the charisma. Of course the lyricist as well. We did write some together, but he would very much lead. The lyrics had to mean something to him. He’s not a big one for general statements – unlike, say, Coldplay. Rob’s lyrics tend to be very personal. Those kind of contradictory desires and warring impulses comes through in a lot of his music, like “Strong” or “Come Undone”.

 

Well, he was fighting demons. All the way through our relationship, he was using alcohol or drugs – or he was fighting to stay clean. That wasn’t easy: he was part of a pretty boozy touring party. Nobody was allowed to use Class As, and if anyone was found with them, they’d get fired. But there’d be a lot of marijuana.

 

Was the disagreement over “Come Undone” the final straw for your relationship, or did it come out of nowhere?

 

It didn’t come out of nowhere. There was tension with songs that he wrote with other people. Rob got it in his head that I didn’t take them as seriously as the ones we wrote together. I would tend to prioritise what I saw as the singles. I knew he was really excited about “Come Undone”, but I just found that lyric really challenging. It’s very aggressive – I just didn’t really get it.

 

When you parted ways, there was all kinds of speculation in the press: that it was over a deal with EMI, that you’d been working with Gary Barlow, that you’d asked for more money. What do you see as the reason?

 

I wasn’t working with Gary Barlow, I can definitely tell you that – but I was working with other people. Looking back now, I should have been more focused on Rob. I did get distracted. But it was because our relationship had broken down – we just weren’t getting on as friends anymore. You can see in the film how difficult it was to be in the studio. That was not an unusual day, towards the end.

 

This is the part where you’re having a chilly standoff in the recording booth: Rob wants to revise some lyrics, you say that it’s too late, and he says he wishes you’d talked to each other more. It was like that pretty much all the time for about three months. It was awful – and that’s why I comforted myself by also doing other things, to try and take my mind off it. That was an immature way of approaching it. What I should have said, to him and his management, was “Listen, we need to have a meeting. This is all going f***ing wrong. Let’s talk about why.” But I didn’t do that, because I wasn’t a very mature person. I was drinking too much, smoking too much dope. You can see it in the film: I look f***ed towards the end.

 

The film makes a lot of “Rudebox”, Rob’s first – and highly polarising – creative venture outside of your partnership. What was your response to hearing that song?

 

I wasn’t that surprised. I knew how much he loved that genre of music. I thought it was brave. I wasn’t there when he wrote it, so I don’t know what his intention was.

 

 

What would you have done with “Rudebox”, had he brought it to you?

 

[Laughs] That’s an interesting question. Umm… [Laughs] Mmm. I would have struggled with it, I’ll be honest, yes.

It does sound like a song that emerged from a group of yes men. He wrote it with his mates from Stoke [Kelvin Andrews and Danny Spencer: the electronic music duo Candy Flip]. Obviously they were really excited; it was a huge break for them. It’s difficult – when you’re working with him, you want to be as enthusiastic as possible, because you can see that his confidence is wafer-thin. If you’re the one person in the room going “D’you know what? I’m not totally sure about this…” you are persona non grata. And that probably would have been my role, had I still been working with him: I would have been the bad smell in the room.

 

You can’t play that role for very long until you start to think badly of yourself.

 

When I left – sorry, when I was fired – it was extremely painful and heartbreaking, but it was the right time for me to go. I had a very young family. That crazy tour in 2006 probably would have killed me. I think episode three shows what a strange environment it can be.

 

You reconciled with Rob on stage in 2013. How did that come about?

 

He reached out to me and asked if I wanted to come to the O2 and guest with him, then he asked me to produce his next swing record [swings Both Ways]. After the gig went well, we then decided to try and write together again, in January 2014.

 

You say the end of your partnership had been “heartbreaking” – how was it for you, to pick it back up?

 

The first day writing with him, after that long gap, was excruciating, to be honest. [Laughs] I would play something and he’d go “Nah, I’m not feeling that” – almost instantly. [Laughs] I’d play something else, and he’d go “No, I don’t like that”. There were hours of that – but we still wrote two singles. I needed to find a gateway into his imagination, where he could get excited. With “Go Gentle”, I said: “Why don’t we write a song like [sammy Davis Jr’s] “The Candy Man”, but in a minor key?” I knew he really loved that song. And he went, “Hmm, okay, that’s clever…” And it all came together, just like in the old days.

 

Since your “imperial phase” with Robbie, you’ve worked with an amazing range of musicians – from Mel C to Rufus Wainwright, Tina Turner to The Wanted, Jamie Cullum to Example. What does Rob have that others don’t?

 

It’s hard to compare him to anyone else. As you can see in the film, he’s just completely unique: very intuitive, very intelligent – very, very clever with words. His vocabulary is pretty huge; the writing process tended to be quick. The first album was written in about nine days. There was this sort of immediate energy between us that was very pleasing, that I didn’t always have with other people.

 

How is your relationship today?

 

We have a good relationship now, but I’m not currently working with him. The last thing we did together was the Felix cat food advert. [Laughs]

 

Sadly neglected by the documentary.

 

[Laughs] I don’t think anyone was filming behind the scenes of that

 

Now you’re reviving The Lemon Trees, your band before you first partnered with Robbie, and rerecording many of your songs.

 

I am – after 30 years. It feels really good. When I did the album back in 1993, I wasn’t happy with it, on many levels. I wasn’t happy with the singers, the production, the mix. Obviously I haven’t been working on it for 30 years, but finally I’m happy with it. It’s how it always should have been, let’s put it that way.

 

https://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/article/guy-c...liams-interview

Edited November 13, 20231 yr by Sydney11

Gah! Why does everyone forget Intensive Care?

 

Justice for Intensive Care and Stephen ‘Tin Tin’ Duffy!!

 

I love that album.

 

Notice that Guy does not address the money question.

As anyone who read the biography Feel knows, yes Guy did ask for more money.

A lot more money - and had to be told that he does not actually have an artist partnership with

Robbie Williams.

 

Which I suspect means that he asked for half of the EMI advance, since he saw himself as half of ‘Robbie Williams the band’.

And then tried to scupper the deal the night before it was signed when told ‘no’.

 

Of course he was deprioritising the sings Rob wrote with others and choosing the ones they wrote together

as singles. He had an inherent conflict of interest as a producer. And of course he tried to muscle in on Come Undone.

 

 

 

I an a few episodes in and i must admit i did find the bits with and about Guy the most interesting!!

 

Guy not liking Come Undone i found shocking !!! Its a masterpiece!

Edited November 13, 20231 yr by vibe

Live at Knebworth is now also live on Netflix! I have never watched it on TV so I'm looking forward watching it now. I'm also wondering how they achieved that PG 7+ rating :D

Edited November 13, 20231 yr by frogec