Introduction:
Long before the bright lights, awards, and international acclaim, his stage was nothing more than an orange crate in the corner of a small grocery shop in South Wales. As a young boy, barely tall enough to see over the counter, he would stand and sing for the bakers, green-grocers, and weary travelers who stopped by. The shopkeeper, a friend of his mother, knew talent when he saw it — and made sure this boy didn’t sing for nothing.
Growing up in a mining town, the path for most boys was clear: once school ended, they went to work underground, in factories, or in construction. “If I hadn’t had tuberculosis at 12, I’d have likely ended up in the mines,” he reflects. Illness closed that door, but it quietly pushed him toward another — one where his voice would be his livelihood.
Life moved quickly. Married at 16, a father soon after, he lived with his wife’s parents until the passing of his father-in-law made him the man of the house. Yet, through it all, he never considered himself unfortunate. “I’ve always felt lucky,” he says. “I was brought up in a good family environment, and when we got married, it was natural to move in with my wife’s family. There was no hardship in that.”
By 1965, the young man from the corner shop had taken the world by storm — Grammy nominations, a Grammy win, a No. 1 record, million-selling singles, and the kind of money he had never imagined. Yet with sudden wealth came culture shock.
“I couldn’t grasp how much money people spent in hotels, restaurants, on wine,” he admits. “A bottle of wine could cost what my father earned in a month. My manager would order caviar and I’d think, ‘You can’t eat that — look at the price!’” The transition from beer and cigarettes to champagne and cigars was gradual. “At first, I swore I’d never change. But over time, you get accustomed to it. You start to live differently.”
Despite the whirlwind of fame, he remained firmly in control of his artistry. “I was lucky — I had a commercial style naturally, so I didn’t have to record songs I didn’t believe in. I never felt like my career was running me. I was recording what I loved.”
That orange crate in a small Welsh shop is long gone, replaced by stages around the world. Yet the same voice that once charmed local shopkeepers now fills concert halls and earns standing ovations from thousands. His story is more than one of talent — it’s about resilience, adaptability, and staying grounded while the world changes around you.
From the dusty streets of a mining town to the glittering lights of global fame, his journey proves that sometimes the smallest stages can launch the biggest stars.