Tom Jones: Musical Phenomenon | Full Documentary | Biography

With a career that has covered more than 40 years, Tom Jones is Britain's most enduring sex symbol. He's just the same great performer he's always been. But his rise to fame is not without its casualties. And it finally became the job of a close family member to reinvent Tom Jones for a new generation. Father and son have made a new Tom Jones. Tom Jones is a musical phenomenon with a career spanning over four decades. Starting life in a small Welsh coal mining town with humble working-class beginnings, Tom has gone on to sell 45 million records, has appeared on more than 5,000 stages, and has stolen the hearts of thousands of women worldwide. If you're in a room with a hundred people and Tom Jones walks in, you know he's there. There's some kind of enormous magnetism about him. You know, the girls just looked at him and went weak at the knees. I like the way he moves. I like the clothes that he wears. But most important of all, I just love his voice. He had this universal appeal, but the girls just obviously, you know, sort of went crazy. We all knew that when he was little, we all knew that he would sing, you know, but we didn't realize the heights that he would get to. Having been pulled out of the working men's club scene by manager and fellow Welshman Gordon Mills, Tom Jones first hit the big time in 1965 when he reached the number one chart spot. I want you to wiggle it around. Tom immediately captivated audiences with his powerful voice and provocative stage presence. Tom's stage presence has always been dynamic. He just tore the place apart. I mean, literally, I've never heard a voice like him. Wow, baby! I don't think Charlie can tell you that. He can push those hips around. I love Tom singing ballads because I think he sings ballads like nobody else. And he has this wonderful voice and he could take a song and he could take your heart out of it. You had to see him to actually feel what that voice, it hit you right in the stomach. It was incredible. His pitch was perfect. He never hit on singing out of tune. And his phrasing for lyrics and all that sort of thing was incredible. Having split from his band, Tom Jones's success continued with a string of chart hits. And throughout the 1960s, he dominated the swinging London music scene. By the 1980s, Tom had conquered Las Vegas, cementing his position as a true international superstar. I don't think I've ever seen anybody else achieve that kind of superstardom. All of a sudden, you go from living in a one-room apartment to a mansion. All the money was there, the jewelry came, the bling, the great clothes, the first-class travel. But he was never that extravagant. With Tom's newfound Las Vegas fame came money, women and A-list celebrity friends, including the king of rock and roll, Elvis Presley. I always thought Tom was wonderful. He loved me, loved the way he performed on stage. And there's like two old buddies hanging around when they were around. When Tom said something, Elvis listened. Because other people would say whatever they thought Elvis Presley wanted to hear. Tom Jones never did that. Tom Jones gave it him straight. Sometimes it hurt. After more than a decade playing the Las Vegas casino scene, Tom's recording career started to slip. Vegas was a crucial part of the musical decline of Tom Jones. The audience was getting older and they wanted the same old songs. They didn't want to hear Tom Jones doing a new song. Following the death of manager Gordon Mills in 1986, Tom enlisted the help of his son, Mark Woodward, and together they reinvented the Tom Jones experience. You don't have to be beautiful to turn me on. Tom's image was brilliant for the mid-1960s, but when it came to the 80s, you know, it was not on. The bushy hair, the shirt slashed to the waist, the gold chains, the hairy chest. I mean, that was his look. Mark, you know, turned into a lovely lad. And he's taken Tom out of the doldrums and put him right back on top of it. Mark reinvented him. And as a result, he's an even bigger star now than he was back in his heyday. It was well overdue, I think, and I'm happy for him. It's just phenomenal what Mark has done, well, what they've done between them. Father and son have made a new Tom Jones. But one original quality that has never left Tom Jones is his sex appeal. Every girl just went for Tom Jones. So much so, they'd throw their panties. Well, I used to throw the knickers on stage with the hope that he'd wipe his forehead and his chest. Well, he used to wear his trousers out from the inside, you know, that was... And the girls were always waiting for it to burst out, you know, because he never wore any underpants. Over the decades, thousands of women have wanted Tom Jones. But his heart has always belonged to his wife, Linda, who he married back in the Welsh Valleys at 16 years old, making them one of the longest show business marriages of all time. With an estimated fortune of $100 million, Tom Jones enjoys a jet-set lifestyle, traveling between L.A., Las Vegas, and London. Despite recently celebrating his 65th birthday, Tom Jones is still touring and still delivering the wild and sexy performances his audiences have come to expect from the legend that is Tom Jones. Tom Jones was born Thomas Woodward on June 7, 1940, in the small coal mining town of Pontypridd, Wales. Tom's family were close-knit, and the extended family was an important factor in Tom's upbringing. I was brought up in a family that all lived together. My mother's brothers and sisters lived in Pontypridd, where I come from, so we would always get together. I was listening to pop music as a child, and then when rock and roll began, of course, I started picking them up. Times were tough for Tom's parents, Freda and his father, Thomas, who earned a modest living like the majority of local men working down the coal mine. It was a very old-fashioned environment where the men ruled the roost. Women were there to produce tea, bath and look after the children. Tom was always a showman. Even as young as six years old, he would demand that his mother give him a proper showbiz introduction. Freda would complain that she was too busy cleaning the house, but Tom would nag her until she finally relented and cried out, Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Tommy Woodward! And he used to have big, heavy curtains behind the door, and I mean, here comes Tom, he'd open it up and he'd want to sing. We all knew that when he was little, we all knew that he would sing, you know. My mother tells me that if a song would come on the radio that was up-tempo, I would start to move her out. He'd have always wanted to show off, if you like. Get up and sing. No, it's always been in his blood. But a life spent in Pontypridd would inevitably mean coal mining. Tom was never really going to grow up to be a coal miner. His mum didn't like it for a start, and of course he had the perfect get-out when he was 12 because he got tuberculosis. Tuberculosis in the 50s was not quite a killer. It wasn't the killer like it was in the 19th century, but it was a very nasty disease and it could flatten people for years and possibly turn them into invalids. The doctors wanted to send him away, but Tom's mum wasn't having that, so she said, if we convert our attic into a bedroom and we make sure he rests for as long as it takes, can he stay there? That's what happened. Despite being confined to his attic room for over a year, Tom would daydream about the outside world and life as a performer. He was in bed for a 12-month, and he was, he was in bed, and I remember they arranged a tutor for him. But he used to play as well, a ukulele, you remember he used to have his ukulele on the bed when he was playing? Yeah, he used to play with just sitting on the bed, you know. Visitors, he always had loads of visitors. He had lots of visitors. He always seemed to sort of, people just used to draw to him, wouldn't they? Tom was always popular with the ladies. He always had a girlfriend, right from infant school, yeah, because I used to be a bit jealous. Oh, in fact, he did say if you hadn't been his cousin, he could have fallen for Jean, he did say that. But Tom only had eyes for one girl, his schoolgirl sweetheart, Melinda Trenchard. Well, they went together from, I think they were about, was they like? 11 or 12. Yeah, they was, you know. Oh, she was very pretty, Melinda, very pretty. And I used to think then, at one time, I said, well, we should look like you. Having been trapped by his illness, Tom emerged from the attic with a lust for life and unstoppable drive. He must have, on some conscious or unconscious level, made a promise to himself that if I ever get well, I'm going to go out there and I'm going to show them who I am. He came out of it as a man. He'd hit puberty. His voice had changed. He knew what he wanted. And he's always said that he came out determined that he was never going to regret anything again. I was listening to pop music as a child. And then when rock and roll began, of course, I started picking it up. Tom was a classic 1950s teenager, embracing the rock and roll sound and style. The leather jacket, the drainpipe jeans, the quiff, a sort of permanent sneer, comb in your back pocket and an attitude to match. He would get into fights on quite a regular basis. He was of his time. The regular fighting led to Tom breaking his nose, but rock and roll would become his salvation. In 1961, Tom joined a local band, The Senators, and with it came adulation, excitement, and the girls from the valley loved him. Well, we were right in the front. And oh, and he was just packed. You couldn't get a seat there, you know. Well, I knew when I heard his voice, I thought, well, there's a fella going to go far. I knew it. So, you know, it was always on the cards, really, that if anybody would make it, he would make it. Yeah, yeah. He'd always have a packed house. They always thought the world of him, because he had a good voice. And he had, his presentation was good, you know. Tom's stage performance rocked the valleys. He had a winning combination of great vocals, rough and ruddy looks, and a pair of hips that would set the girls' hearts racing. Oh, he's absolutely fantastic. And once I saw him on stage performing, I was just hooked. And every time he was going to appear anywhere, I had to be there. I've been in the audience when he's been performing. He keeps them alive. He's a live performer. And that guy can gyrate, I'll tell you that. He can push those hips around. Oh, well, we used to feel a little bit embarrassed, I'll be honest. Yeah, yeah. We'd think, oh, God, can he let us dance now? Yes, and wriggle around and wiggle his bottom. People talk about the hip movements in those early days. But he was actually conducting the band with his bum, because he has this great sense of rhythm. And he moved perfectly in time with the music. And that kept them together. They were, he was their conductor. Just a little bit. Tom was different. He sang the songs, and he walked the walk, and he looked the look. But he delivered something else in spades. All the local girls wanted Tom. But he was already promised to another. At the age of 16, Tom had already married his high school sweetheart, Melinda Trenchard. And just one month after the wedding, she gave birth to their son, Mark Woodward. Tom and the band were big, but only in the Welsh Valleys. They needed a break. I knew I'd gone as far as I could in South Wales, with the working men's clubs. So I knew I had to go to London. But I didn't know how to get there, who to talk to. I had no contacts or anything. So I was waiting for somebody to come and see me. Gordon Mills, seen here in this exclusive footage, was a London-based songwriter turned music manager looking for new talent when he visited his small hometown of Tonopandy. I said, go and see him. I said, he'll give you your money's worth of over and over. The place was heaving. This boy had a great following even then, in the clubs around Wales. When he came on, and half way to the first number, it was the greatest thing I'd ever seen. That was Tom. Tom's stage presence and powerful voice hit Gordon immediately. And on the drive back to swinging London, Gordon decided he just had to work with Tom. I said to him, if you come to London, I think you should have to come to London. London is the hub, the centre. Despite having a young family, Tom and the band took a gamble and moved to the bright lights of London. But things wouldn't come easy in the city paved with gold. Tom Jones and the band had been a success on the Welsh working men's club scene when they were spotted by fellow Welshman Gordon Mills. Gordon, an up-and-coming songwriter, persuaded the boys to move to London with promises of a glittering career. But fame and fortune would prove hard for the boys from the Valley. The relationship when they first came to London was made difficult by the fact that they were both broke. He brought them over to his house and they got together and he started to manage him. Of course, that's when we started working the small clubs first. The first step was to change the group's name. The Senators became the Squires. And Tommy Woodward became Tom Jones. Gordon Mills had taken Tom's new surname from the 1963 Oscar-winning movie of the same name. But was the small London club scene ready for such a big impact? He used to come out and go flat out, like a 100-yard sprinter. I used to say to him, I said, look, Tom, keep your reserves for the end, build it up, it should build your act. He was powerful on stage and actually quite frightening for some people. They said he shouted, he screamed, and he moved, he was old-fashioned, when in fact he was ahead of his time. London in the 1960s was a hard place to be when broke. Tom Jones and the Squires were as broke as they come, living together in a rundown flat on a budget of just 50 cents a day. And it was a lot of hard work. Right at the beginning of it, there was a lot of starvation going on. I remember they went to a nightclub in the West End one night because I think Tom was auditioning at the club. And a waiter was passing with a tray to take the food to the table and he nicked a steak off the plate as the waiter was passing. Because, of course, there wasn't that much money. And for Tom to be a family man now and then to go up to London, and I think times are very hard. Gordon sold his car and his watch to cut a new record with Tom. But it wouldn't be the hit they so desperately needed. He had been up to London and he had made Chosen Fever. And we were all hoping now that this would have been a hit. But really, nothing came of it. Gordon Mills wasn't any better off either. He desperately needed the financial boost a hit record would bring. And I wrote a song called, titled actually, my wife came up with the title. It's not unusual. Sandy Shaw had just had a number one hit and was the hottest female UK artist of the time. Sandy seemed the obvious choice to turn Gordon's new song into a smash hit. Gordon obviously didn't think it was right for Tom. No, neither of us did. Otherwise he would have... Because we were hearing him singing Memphis, Tennessee, all these American rock songs, Jerry Lee Lewis stuff, Elvis stuff, if you like. It didn't occur to us that this song was in his bag. Gordon, for financial reasons, had to offer it to Sandy Shaw. Sandy Shaw was a hit maker. And it was almost certain that it would have been a big hit for her. So I knew it had to be this record that opened all the doors. But Tom heard it and he begged Gordon to give it to him. Tom said, if I don't do this song, I'm going to give up the business and I might even kill myself. We were in the pub having a drink and he had a face as long as a fiddle. I said, what's the matter? And he said, I want that song. Sandy Shaw turned it down. So Tom was able to go in and record it. Tom recorded It's Not Unusual on the 11th of November, 1964. It was a smash the world over. And that's what established his name. Once he had It's Not Unusual, that was nothing stopping him. He just boomeranged around the world. A lot of people didn't know what he looked like. In fact, in America, they thought he was black. They thought he had to be black to produce that sound. One radio interviewer said to him, do you not think it peculiar that you sing these black songs? And Tom said, no, he didn't think it was peculiar at all. And made this lovely analogy about black people picking white cotton. And he said, where I come from, white people pick black coal. Tom's rock and roll image needed refining. So Gordon hired PR man Chris Hutchins to give Tom the right look. I saw the mistakes that were being made. I'd seen pictures of Tom in a woman's magazine, standing in the kitchen, washing up. And this wasn't going to be what happened with Tom Jones anymore. I wanted to make him much more precious. And when he did interviews to make sure that they were the number one interviews in the magazines, I knew that if he was going to have a great image, he had to have the best photography. So I got a hold of Terry O'Neill, who I regard as the finest photographer in the world. You just had to point a camera at him and you get a great shot. I mean, it wasn't difficult photographing him. He's great to photograph, Tom. He's just a huge personality. And he just stands there and you get a fantastic photograph. You can't help it. I mean, he had instant sex appeal. We did everything we could to make the pictures as sexy as possible because that's what women wanted. And the other thing that women wanted was for Tom to be single. In the 60s, being a pop star and having a wife was kind of, you know, it just wasn't done. It put women off a bit to know that there was already a Mrs Jones. So we played that down. Everybody knew she existed, but actually they preferred that she stay in the background and look after the child. Linda Jones was very happy with that because she never wanted to be in the lineup. It was very important that we played up this single man thing, really. With Linda now pushed firmly into the background, Gordon knew it was time to make Tom's look as hot as his voice. When Tom first came up to London, he was still very much in the tight leather trousers, teddy boy. With the old hair down the front, he had like four or six inch winkle pickers, you know, these huge long toes pointed, you know. Very aggressive, he had a broken nose. And we thought, we got on today, you know, so anyway, we started the session and as soon as he started to sing, it was like, you know, this man is unbelievable. Gordon had found the hit machine he was looking for and soon the royalties became apparent. But not everyone would feel the benefit as Gordon changed more than just Tom's look. Tom Jones's success was soaring. He had a number one smash hit with It's Not Unusual and a manager in Gordon Mills who wanted to control every part of his career. Tom was more than happy to take Gordon's advice. Gordon was top dog, I have to tell you that. He was quite an aggressive person in his manner, which suited Tom because Tom is not that stronger person when it comes... He hates confrontation. Gordon loved confrontation. Gordon loved facing problems and trouble. I think his biggest trait was his stubbornness, was his absolute determination he would not let go of anything. He was a pure professional when it came to it, but I've seen him literally grind somebody into the ground where he was being so ruthless. If he wanted something badly enough, no matter who it was, he could grind them into the ground and they would succumb. Gordon sort of controlled absolutely everything that Tom did. Tom was his, not just client, but his baby sort of thing. In the beginning, he used to do everything Gordon said because Gordon was like, you know, do this and that and da-da. And Chris would be hovering. I mean, we'd be all laughing behind Gordon's back, actually, but he was a good manager. Tom's band, The Squires, didn't feature in Gordon's grand scheme for Tom's career. We saw less and less of Tom and more and more of... Tom and Gordon growing richer by the week. Money was pouring in. The band, all of us are still in digs, still on our £30 a week. It became pretty apparent that Tom was going places and The Squires were not good enough. They couldn't read music. They couldn't keep up with, you know, full orchestras. And in today's world, they would have been paid off nicely. Everyone would be happy. But it didn't happen like that. Whilst the band were broke, Tom was in the midst of a makeover that would ultimately define him as the 1960s sex symbol. I did what I could to make sure that the image was one of finesse, that, you know, he was seen in the right places, that he drank champagne and rode around in Rolls Royce. He wanted those things anyway, so it wasn't a case of doing anything against his will. They went and fixed his teeth and straightened his nose, and I think it took away some of his sort of raw sex appeal, but it made him more palatable for a general audience. Tom, eventually, he was just taken away and shown, as you would be, the finer things in life, and eventually he had so little in common with the band that it was kind of easy to step away from them. This would soon be brought home to the band. With Tom's growing riches, he now lived in a palatial mansion and invited bass guitarist Vernon over to get some of his cast-off suits. I said, thanks for Tom. I said, appreciate it. And I could see he wasn't going to invite me in for a coffee or anything, you know, so I felt a bit embarrassed. I thought, well, OK, see you at the next gig then, Tom, OK? So I turned to go back over the threshold, you know, and he said, hold on a minute. He said, six pounds each. I beg your pardon? He said, you don't think I'm going to give him for free, do you? There were to be more shocking revelations for the band, as Gordon decided they had become surplus to requirements. I had a little paper and I've opened it. There on the middle page was Tom Jones and Squires in Amicable Split. Just a piece of paper like that. Amicable Split, I know nothing about this. There must have come as a shock to the Squires then that they read it in the newspaper, because they would have expected normally Tom to have gone to them and explained things to them. But if there is, if Tom Jones has a weakness, it is that he cannot face confrontation. There's nothing in this world that can describe what he felt. Suicidal. Things were on the up for Tom Jones. As a solo performer, he had a string of UK hits. Tom was already a major British star, but manager Gordon Mills had even bigger ambitions. Gordon brought Tom over to America, and it was here that a craze began that would symbolise Tom's popularity for decades to come. When a lady throws something on the stage, it's an excuse to come and get it back. The crowd went absolutely wild, but that was when women started to throw things onto the stage. This woman literally dropped her knickers at the Copacabana and threw them at him. And he picked them up, wiped his face with him, made some crack about knowing this woman. The crowd erupted, and it then kept on happening. It was incredible, really, and he used to love it. It used to be like the aftermath of a lingerie sale. It was knee-deep in bras and knickers and flowers and teddy bears. It started as a spontaneous gesture, and then it became a kind of a gimmick. Gordon could see Tom's potential. If the girls at the live performances loved him this much, how would he fare entering the homes of millions on the television screen? Tom Jones was well on his way to becoming a major singing superstar. He had a string of hits in Britain, but manager Gordon Mills planned to make Tom even more famous with his own television show. This Is Tom Jones was what catapulted the boy from the Welsh Valleys into the big time on both sides of the Atlantic. If you cracked America, you were made for life. This Is Tom Jones confirmed Tom as an international celebrity. Nina Blatt worked on the programme that ran to 65 episodes, airing on both sides of the Atlantic. I don't think I've ever seen anybody else achieve that kind of superstardom. Stars had series built around them, but Tom's went on, I think, a lot longer than anyone else. He certainly got bigger production-wise than anyone else. Everything was going Tom's way. He had a prime time TV smash, a string of hit records, and women who would do almost anything to get near him. Girls would go crazy to be at concert spots because at concert spots you were sitting around Tom and you'd be near to him and he would flirt with everybody and the girls just looked at him and went weak at the knees. The nice thing about him is he had the talent to go with it, so he wasn't just moving along on sex appeal. When you see 40-year-old women screaming like teenyboppers, you know, like 13-year-olds, kind of pulling their hair off and pulling their clothes off, and that was the reaction on those shows. He appealed to every age group. I mean, it wasn't just teenagers and it wasn't just older women. He had this universal appeal, but the girls just obviously, you know, sort of went crazy. Well, here we are on the Star Homes Tour in Los Angeles. Being the number one star in the world, Tom needed a retreat from prying eyes and screaming fans. And over here on our left is the home of Tom Jones. Tom bought a Bel Air mansion from one of his showbiz heroes. This home was the former estate of Dean Martin. That was like a family house, really. Absolutely fabulous. All of a sudden, you go from living in a one-room apartment to a mansion, you know. Well, how long would it take to get around there? I don't know, a lot. Tom really took to Bel Air, but the LA lifestyle didn't suit Mrs Jones. She doesn't like to go out too much. You know, she is still a Welsh girl at heart. Linda was never part of the star circus thing. She was always a loving wife who wanted to look after the home and bring Mark up. And so it was very inconvenient for her being in Los Angeles. Tom's wife Linda seemed happy to stay at home. She was more than content inside their LA mansion. I remember going to the house on one occasion. When Linda was indoors on her own, and she was actually dancing to one of his records and dusting at the same time and swinging a bottle of champagne from by the neck. I mean, she really is as much of a Tom Jones fan when it comes to his music as anyone. She always found it very, very hard to look at Tom on stage and see him basically making love to other women with his eyes and his voice and as part of his performance. And knowing him as she did, she knew that actually given half a chance, it wouldn't just be part of the performance. I don't think she liked all the and all the liquor throwing and all that sort of thing, to be honest. Did she, I think, and all the fans sort of screaming. I suppose all wives of somebody who's a sort of sex symbol have to have that problem. The working class boy from Pontypridd was now an international superstar, making manager Gordon Mills and himself millions of dollars. But Tom wanted to see the proof. One day, Bill Smith, who was the accountant, said to him, Tom, you're actually worth a million pounds. And Tom said, show me. He said, what do you mean? I want to see a million pounds on a bank statement. And Bill Smith said, no, you know, it's mostly in shares. I've invested it for you. And Tom and he had to go out and sell the shares, put the money in the bank, show Tom a bank statement with a million pounds on it, and then go back and rebuy the shares. It was quite an expensive operation. Tom and Gordon knew that this was the time to capitalise on Tom's popularity. Now UK tax exiles, they aim to conquer the Las Vegas circuit. We created as much fuss as we could before we got there and bought lots of billboards saying Tom Jones is coming. And word got around America so quickly. People just flocked. People were getting on planes all over America to come to Las Vegas and see this new sensation. And it was only a matter of days before the king of rock and roll graced Tom with his presence. Tom said, I guess who's coming tonight, you know? Gordon, who is this? Elvis. God, what? Sure enough, when we did the show, in the front row there was Elvis. And he looked fantastic. Elvis thought Tom was wonderful. He loved him. He loved the way he performed on stage. And they just, it clicked all together. And they just talked about the business and how much Elvis loved Tom's voice because he sang with a lot of feeling and very important to Elvis. And they hit it off and became friends. But it wasn't just Elvis who admired Tom Jones. I don't think it's any secret that Tom Jones likes women. It was so rife, you know, the women. They just throw themselves at you, you know? I remember in Las Vegas, on one occasion, a woman screamed out from the back of the, while Tom was singing quite a quiet ballad, actually. She said, I want to have Tom Jones' baby. So Mark, his son, came on stage and said, well, here I am. Things were going great for Tom and his entourage. With a second season booked, all Tom needed were some new gags to go in between the songs. I walked into Caesars Palace and he was on stage rehearsing and he saw me from the stage. He said, ah, Chrissie, there you are, a bit late. Where are the lines? Got to have new lines. You haven't done them, haven't you? And I hadn't, but I couldn't have missed it. And I said, oh, I'll just go and get them. And I ran out and bought a copy of an album I'd been playing in London called Sinatra Live at the Sands. Now, Sinatra had the best gag writers in the world. So I just rewrote all this stuff. And he went out and did his first show and the lines went very well. That was until Sinatra himself was in the audience. And there he is doing Sinatra's lines with Sinatra in the audience. So I thought that was the end of my career, the end of my life, probably. Anyway, Sinatra came backstage afterwards with a dozen of these guys and I looked at Sinatra and he was drunk. He was so drunk. And it's obvious that he hadn't noticed a thing. And Tom had a few words. And when he was leaving, he said, the last of these guys out said to me, Frank thought that was a great tribute. But Vegas would not be great for Tom's recording career. Vegas is an essential and rather strange part of the Tom Jones story because it's what I call a mink line coffin. It's very, very well paid. It's very, very comfortable. But musically, it kills you. Between about 1972 and 1986, he didn't have a hit record, which is a hell of a long time for a guy who was probably earning millions a year playing Vegas. But Vegas kind of sucks the inspiration out of you. The British and American record buying public missed Tom Jones. But it wouldn't be long before a family connection changed all of that. The Welsh boy from the valleys was now an international superstar. Tom Jones had a string of hits under his belt, a primetime TV show on both sides of the Atlantic, and he had accomplished every showman's dream. He had broken Las Vegas. But after more than a decade singing in the desert, his record buying fans felt deserted and Tom's career started to slip. Vegas was a crucial part of the musical decline of Tom Jones. The audience was getting older and they wanted the same old songs. They didn't want to hear Tom Jones doing a new song. And he let Gordon choose too much for him in that period. And that was really where his career literally hits freefall and there's nothing to stop it. You could never say that Gordon Mills was a bad influence, but he had, I think, run out of ideas. It was starting to go downhill a bit. You know, I mean, we don't get a bloody limo anymore. We get an old truck, you know. Times were changing fast and manager Gordon Mills was struggling to keep up. Mark, his son, who by that point was sort of on the road with him full time, was a huge rock fan and was suggesting, well, why don't you cover this song by Prince? And Gordon didn't want him. Gordon wanted him to do, you know, the slashy ballads. Gordon quite liked the idea of women throwing knickers at him. I think he thought that could go on forever. Mark saw it couldn't. He'd been the biggest star in the world, you know, and still had plenty of punch. Lady Luck has always smiled on Tom Jones. In 1986, Gordon Mills died. Now, that's a harsh thing to say, but that was the best thing that could have happened to Tom's career. Mark Woodward, who was never far behind Tom, became his manager and together they would prove a winning formula. He brought in new producers and they brought in new songs and Tom was able to cope because, as I've said, the voice can do anything. He can use it in any way. He's taken Tom out of the doldrums and put him right back on top again. It's just phenomenal what Mark has done. Father and son have made a new Tom Jones. You don't have to be beautiful to turn me on. With Mark now running his career, Tom hit back with immediate impact, proving his voice had never left. You know, suddenly Tom Jones was cool in America. It was a big hit in the UK and in Europe and he's not being held back anymore. And everything that's happened to Tom's career since 1986 has been down to Mark. Kiss was the springboard that relaunched Tom Jones's career and over the next 15 years, Tom's popularity would continue to rise. Tom Jones's enthusiasm for singing has never waned and he is still as passionate today as he was in the Welsh Workingmen's Clubs. His career may have been up and down, but his relationship with Linda, whom he married at the age of 16, has remained constant. To celebrate his 65th birthday, Tom Jones, the international superstar, returned to the Welsh Valleys and his home crowd. I mean, that was absolutely fantastic. And what I do remember is my son was driving us to the concert and seeing the Tom Jones concert all along the road. Well, I just could, it made me feel cold. The whole town was closed for Tom Jones. When he sang The Green, Green Grass, he sang The Old House, It's Still Standing. And as he said it, he pointed up to the rows of houses, you know, which were in that area. I think everyone went cold and it just exploded, didn't it, really? Everyone was, it was a wonderful atmosphere, wasn't it? We love the fact that Tom Jones in his 60s is still mad and bad and can sing the trousers off anybody else. He's still got his magic. He's just the same great performer he's always been. He loves to sing. I mean, to be honest, he would have done his whole career for nothing as long as he could sing. He's done a lot for music, Wales, and also for me. He says as long as the people want me to sing, I will. Well, I've always, you know, I've stuck to my guns. I've always sung the way I wanted to. And I've worked with a lot of different producers to get different sounds but never changed my vocal style. And thank God it's still being appreciated. Every moment, every milestone of every personality. For 20 years, Biography has left conjecture and innuendo to the other shows. You know, the ones that come and go. Biography, Monday through Saturday at 8 on The Biography Channel, where everyone has a story.