Music's biggest names discuss their origins as support acts

Jimmy Page, Led Zeppelin

We didn't do many supports other than on our first US tour in 1969 when we opened for Country Joe and the Fish. When we got to the East Coast, we were scheduled to open for Iron Butterfly, but we only played one show with them because the crowd were still shouting for Zeppelin when they started their set. Iron Butterfly bottled out after that and Peter (Grant, Led Zeppelin's manager) played it in the press. Other bands seemed intimidated by what we were doing.

Joan Wasser, Joan As Police Woman

Things don't always turn out the way you hoped. My previous band, Black Beetle, opened for the great Morrissey, and his booking agent told us Morrissey had picked us himself. I had hoped to meet him, but no. Anywhere he was to be was cleared of other people about 15 minutes in advance.

We also opened for Patti Smith at the Montreal Jazz Festival, and she told me she liked my crazy pink boots. To hear that woman, with that voice, tell you she likes your boots – that's like God telling you everything's gonna be all right.

Kathryn Williams

When I was supporting Ray La Montagne I was six months pregnant. He had been touring for a year and he was exhausted and full of the cold. I was feeling motherly, so I would leave presents for him and his band: Tunnock's Tea Cakes, cold remedies and proper tea. Ray seemed painfully shy. He hardly spoke, hardly looked at you in the face. I felt like a dick speaking to him, but said "hi" every day.

He was being courted by the same record company who had signed me and subsequently let me go, and I wanted him to know that there were people around who didn't want anything from him. At the Shepherds Bush Empire in London, on the last night of the tour, Ray stopped in his set to thank me for doing the support. He said I was a really good songwriter and people should buy my stuff. I was taken aback and felt emotionally overwhelmed. Later that year, just before I had my boy Louis, I was l asleep in bed with Radio 4 on when Louis moved around in my belly and woke me up. Ray was doing a session on the World Service.

I really believe that Louis recognised the music from the tour, and when I gave birth to him at home I played Ray's record as something that he would recognise to come into the world with.

Nathan Followill, Kings Of Leon

We supported Bob Dylan, and I think we're one of the few bands in history who can say we've all hugged him. They tell you don't even shake his hand, but when he dropped by our trailer to say hello I just hugged him. He pulled me in and patted me on the back. His security guys were staring, but after that he had to pull in and pat all of us. He wanted to keep us all the same, you know? When he shakes your hand, he has the softest hands I've ever felt of anyone, man or woman. That's not an insult – that's just how it is.

Paul Donoghue, Glasvegas

Dirty Pretty Things asked us to support them when we were still finding our feet as a band. They were very supportive of what we were doing and asked us to come on stage and perform [DPT song] B.U.R.M.A. with them. We still meet up when our paths cross and it's always a great night when we do. Ian Brown was amazingly kind as well – one of the nicest guys I've ever met. He made sure we had dinner together and met up after the gig. He was always praising us, and it really boosted our confidence. It was also through Ian that I got to meet [former bassist with The Smiths] Andy Rourke, a big hero of mine.

Beth Rowley

My first support slot was with the American soul singer Carleen Anderson in 2002. I was still at college, and I didn't have any money, so I had to do everything on the cheap. She was an amazing lady; a huge talent without the big ego.

She let me borrow her bass player and her keyboard player for 10 gigs, which was incredibly generous. This year, I supported David Gray. He's quite shy, but really encouraging. He'd watch our soundchecks and say little things that made me feel valued. If the headliner gives off a good vibe it filters down to everyone else.

Eliza Carthy

My first support was for the Oysterband in 1996 or 1995. It was me and my then new band, made up of mates that I very much wanted to hang out with because they were cooler than I was, and my cousin Oliver on electric guitar. We got paid £50 between us for the pleasure.

The Oysters have been good friends ever since, not least because, however little they were paying, they were more than generous with their bar tabs, and very fond of their champagne.

It was while I was touring with them that I learnt their motto: "No Moët, no show-eh, no Chandon, no band on". This folk singing life is going to be all right, I thought.

Russell Leetch, Editors

The only support tour that Editors have taken was supporting Franz Ferdinand at the back end of 2005. Our experience was fantastic. Franz showed us that even when playing big shows, courtesy, equality and non-elitist behaviour favours everyone around and makes touring much more enjoyable.

They also taught us that picking great support bands makes for a fantastic night. We've had some of our favourite bands – The National; Mobius Band – play with us, and we loved meeting them and forming friendships. The next act we are supporting is REM later this summer. We can't wait.

Slash, Velvet Revolver; Guns N' Roses

When Guns got our 45-minute support slot with Aerosmith on their Permanent Vacationtour that was priceless. Their Rocks album was what made me want to play guitar, and there I was on stage with them. All the other accolades and recognition Guns got left me with this hollow, empty feeling, hence the heroin and the bottles of Jack Daniels. But getting to open for Aerosmith was fucking amazing.

Tim Burgess (The Charlatans)

We opened for The Cult, Ice-T, Iggy Pop, Public Enemy and The Cramps at a thing called Gathering of the Tribes, a two-day a event organised by Ian Astbury. It was our very first visit to America, in October 1990. Ice-T loved us, but we shitted ourselves when he and his entourage turned up in bulletproof vests.

When we played, we got into trouble with the backline technicians for going over our allotted set time. Our drummer Jon Brookes was dragged from his stool by two roadies, and we got into a fight.

Ice-T was watching from the sidelines, and he stepped in and told the roadies to back off. Quite heavy, really, but it was great to have that back up.

Jamie Liddell

Like a D-cup, I've been lucky enough to support a few big ones. I've been out with Bjork, Gnarls Barkley and the late James Brown, but the best tour was with Beck.

When we arrived at the first gig in San Francisco, Beck was perched on the stage clutching his Silvertone guitar and he gave a little wave. He made us feel welcome right away and showed me his latest video. The entire Beck show was accompanied by a live puppet show that was projected behind the band, and the ultimate compliment came when the puppeteers fashioned a model of me. In fairness, it was just my photo stuck to some cardboard, but they told me it had a proper puppet soul.

Since then, Beck and I have recorded together and stayed in touch.

I also met Justin Stanley, the executive producer on my latest album, while touring with the B. Beck has transformed my career – and to think I was supposed to be supporting him!

John Cale, Velvet Underground

Cream International Artists booked us when I had a punk thing going on, and they had us opening for Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow in Germany, where there are ferocious fan bases for those long guitar solos. We arrived at this sports arena, and there was the rainbow [stage prop] lying by the entrance. Someone hadn't done their homework; they couldn't fit it through the door.

They were running behind schedule, so they told us to go and check in at this pristine little German hotel. I thought, "What are we doing here?" This was like punk and speed time.

After we checked in, we came back downstairs. Ritchie had come down drunk and when they refused to serve him he'd gone berserk.

We played the venue in front of these rabid fans of Ritchie Blackmore. They just stared at us in disbelief.

Charlotte Hatherley

I was 17, and had just joined Ash. It was my first plane ride to Belfast and we were supporting U2 at a big political event. I was totally green, so when Bono said, "Oh, I know who you are," I was overwhelmed. U2 never boiled my egg musically, but I was consumed by their leathery auras. We played [Beatles song] "Don't Let Me Down" together, and when I fucked up the chords, The Edge whispered them in my ear, which made me feel a bit funny. Afterwards, we all went to that hotel they own and got hammered. I remember Bono gave Tim [Wheeler, Ash front man] a pearl of wisdom about an all-conquering key change. Tim put it to good use.

Craig Finn, The Hold Steady

Our most memorable opening experience was playing before the Rolling Stones at Slane Castle in Ireland last summer. It's a tough crowd to play for; no one goes to a Stones show to see the opening act, but we did pretty well. We didn't meet any of the guys, but I literally got the chills when Mick said, "We want to thank The Hold Steady for playing." Best of all, we got great seats up close to possibly the greatest rock'n'roll band of all time.

Martha Wainwright

I got the option to open up for Van Morrison in Canada about six years ago. The gig was amazing, but he's famous for being a bit of a jerk, isn't he? I was there with my cousin Lily, and I had a little short skirt on. One of Van's entourage was a bit strange. I felt very cheapened and sexualised by him. He invited us to Van's hotel to hang out, and it was almost like being hired. I thought, "Why am I here? Am I a singer or what?" Any notion that I could be talented in my own right seemed to have flown out the window. Perhaps it was a glimpse of what it was like for women in the music business years ago.

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