From headlining Hammersmith Odeon with Little Angels to sharing stages with some of rock’s biggest names, Toby Jepson has accumulated more than a few stories over his career. But perhaps none quite like the night a punk at a South Wales working men’s club brought a Little Angels performance to a rather painful halt.
In this edition of The MetalTalk Lowdown, Toby looks back on the gigs that shaped him, explains why he has little time for the idea of being a rock star, and reflects on the importance of honesty and creativity. Along the way, there are unexpected confessions about Madonna, romantic comedies and his ambitions as a guitarist, before one beautifully understated answer to how he would like to be remembered.
What is the most Metal thing you’ve ever done?
Perform with Saxon. I’m good mates with Biff and the lads. A number of times he asked me to join them on stage. It was fantastic. I was in Dio’s Disciples, and I threw the horns many, many times from the stage when I was singing Long Live Rock ‘n’ Roll and other Dio classics.
What’s the worst gig you’ve ever played?
The worst gigs are often the smallest. I can remember a gig where I played to about 15 people, and they were right in front of me. I didn’t mind doing this show, but it’s extremely off-putting when you can see every single pair of eyes looking at you.
The worst thing that ever happened to me at a gig was the Tonypandy Naval Club, and this is a legendary story. I was playing with Little Angels, and we were just about to break in the Don’t Pray For Me album period.
It was a working man’s club. The stage was only about six inches high. The place had sold out, and everyone was sat around the tables. The thing about that place was if they liked you, they banged their glasses on the table.
Somebody got up from the back of the hall and walked towards me. A punk, and I’m sure he had a mohawk. He stood in front of me, staring as I was trying to sing Don’t Pray For Me. He punched me in the bollocks, and I hit the deck like a sack of spuds. I was doubled up with absolute pain. I was dragged unceremoniously off the stage nursing my tender bollocks.
What’s the best gig you’ve ever played?
Wembley Stadium with Bryan Adams in 1992 on his Waking Up The Neighbours tour. Absolutely unbelievable to play the old Wembley. There are two others that might just pip it. We opened for Guns N’ Roses at the Marquee Club in 1988. That was unbelievable. I mean, the whole atmosphere of that. Nobody knew who Guns N’ Roses were at the time. They were a new band coming through, but they were astounding. We also played very well, and it was just great to be part of that.
But I think the one that really ranks at the top is when we first headlined Hammersmith Odeon, back in 1991. Just an extraordinary gig. Sold out. We used to drive past that venue on the way to South Wales, having done some tiny little club in London. We used to dream, looking out our van window, and used to say to ourselves, we will play there one day.
Would you choose a platinum record or one perfect legendary live show?
I’ve done a lot of what I would consider in my own head legendary live shows, so I think I would go for the platinum record. That would mean a lot. That would mean the band had gone that extra mile.
It’s not the actual accolade on the wall. It is what it represents. It means you have reached a lot of people, and you have the ear of a huge audience.
What’s your greatest fear?
Apart from being burnt alive? I always think of it artistically. If I fell into the situation where I was making music by numbers? I’ve never done that. Never. Every single song I have written, even if they’ve been rubbish, I have done with heart and soul and with wanting it to be the greatest song ever written. I think my greatest fear is losing the fire in my guts about creative music.
What’s the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I can be very impatient. I wouldn’t say I deplore that in myself. But I can be pretty impatient, usually to my detriment. So yes, I suppose that’s pretty deplorable.
What’s the trait you most deplore in other musicians?
Lack of authenticity. The inability to just be truthful about yourself. I think the key thing about being a musician that stands most people in good stead for a career in music in terms of your entire life is honesty.
Whether that means just honesty in the songs that you write, or whether it’s honesty in the way that you behave. Because I think there’s a lot of bad behaviour in the rock ‘n’ roll business, and I’ve always tried to be a very normal person.
I don’t believe in the idea of being a rock star for a start. I think it’s ridiculous. But I do recognise the idea of being a musician. My audience is the most important people to me. So the way you treat other people and the way that you behave is extremely important.
I think that’s a lot to do with honesty about who you are and being authentic. If you can find your authentic self and you can be a musician, then you’ve probably got a future.
Describe yourself in three words.
Passionate, I think, is a really good one for me. Loyal. I am loyal to a fault. I would like to believe that I was honest. I know those are all good traits. I have built my life off the back of being honest, and I think the reality is sometimes it does not serve you correctly in the entertainment business, sadly. But I don’t care about that. I am glad that I have been OK.
What’s your guiltiest pleasure?
I love rom-com movies. I’m a huge movie fan, and I work in the movie industry as well. I can quite happily sit watching Four Weddings And A Funeral and bawl my eyes out, no problem.
What does a great riff feel like to write?
Oh my goodness me. When you discover a great riff under your fingers, and it connects, and it clicks, it is a fantastic feeling without a doubt. I always wanted to be a guitar player. I wanted to be Jimi Hendrix. He was my big hero. First poster I bought and the first direction I wanted to go in.
But I was so useless at learning the guitar because I’m so impatient. I ended up giving up trying to be a great guitar player. I decided if I couldn’t be Jimi Hendrix, then I was going to learn enough to write songs. It gave me a sense of invention and of what a great riff is. Inventing something that you’ve never heard before.
So the very fact that I am not a very good guitar player, but I always try my hardest, it tends to mean that I tend to do things that other guitar players wouldn’t do. Bruce John Dickinson always says to me, ‘How did you come up with that?’ I said I don’t know. I was just messing around. He is trained. He’s learned how to play guitar properly.
A good example would be Hero, the new single. I came up with that riff, and it was my attempt to rewrite the She’s A Little Angel riff. But because I couldn’t do that, I ended up coming up with my own version of it. It worked. For me, it’s an inventive moment that you have to let happen. I think it’s great. I’ve always been a singer who just about plays guitar.
What’s the worst thing a fan has ever said to you?
Once I came off stage and I was bedraggled. My hair was all wet. I came to the backstage door, and this fan said to me, ‘Oh, you don’t look very good’. I asked what they would expect me to look like.
‘I don’t know, really. You’re a rock star, aren’t you?’ They went off on this big tangent about how I look terrible.
What’s the worst thing a critic has ever said to you?
There’s been quite a few. I don’t tend to read a lot of what the critics say. There was a critic from the NME. When we first got signed to Polydor, we said to them, why can’t we get the NME involved?
Polydor managed to get the NME to come to Scarborough. This journalist turned up to interview us and seemed like quite a nice chap. But the interview that appeared in the NME was an absolute hatchet job. The headline was Seaside Sausage Rockers.
It was a kind of complete and utter piss-take about the fact that we were from Scarborough and were a bunch of flossy-haired idiots. They said everything was a sexual innuendo in our songs, which wasn’t true. It really hurt us. We thought he was a nice bloke.
But we were the enemy that they hated. They hated Heavy Metal and hard rock. We were foolish to even want to have the interview. Seaside Sausage Rockers.
If you were not in music, what would you be doing?
I would be in the film industry. I wanted to be a cinematographer. My whole plan, whilst I was learning, or not learning, to play the guitar and trying to be in a band, was that I wanted to go to film college and learn to be a cinematographer. That was my whole approach. I was determined to do that. But the music industry happened first, the band took off and the rest is history.
What’s one album outside your genre that you secretly love?
Like A Virgin by Madonna.
When did you last cry and why?
Probably watching one of my rom-com films. It always brings a lump. I think they have done their job very well if I’m sat there blubbing about something romantic. I spend a lot of time crying, actually. I’ve got no problem crying.
What keeps you awake at night?
The fear of any of my family getting hurt. I have a very close family. I’m a very family-oriented person.
Riffs, royalties or recognition, which would you choose?
That’s like between the devil and the deep blue sea, isn’t it? I think probably recognition. My dearest wish has always been to progress as a songwriter, and I still think I’m learning every day. Every record I make that I’ve written the songs for is as if I’ve started again in lots of ways. Recognition as a songwriter, more than anything else, would be an absolute dream.
How do you want to be remembered?
Somebody who was useful.
What’s the most important lesson the road has taught you?
Don’t believe the hype. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s very hard work dragging yourself around the countryside and around the world in planes, trains and automobiles. It is difficult and not what you think it is when you first start out wondering what it’s like to be on a tour bus.
Because believe me, being on tour buses ain’t that much fun. I believe that being on the road is a means to an end. The only reason to do it is to get on those stages and to entertain people.
What happens when the music stops?
My ears will keep buzzing. I’ve got terrible tinnitus. But when the music stops, I do something else. I found out a long time ago that you need a number of strings to your bow. You’ve got to be able to get away from the thing that you do as a creative person.
I am a professional screenwriter as well as a professional musician, so I balance between writing for film and songwriting. That freshens my palate. When I’ve done enough of that, I’ll go back to writing some music. But the other thing is I read a lot, and I watch a lot of films. I think that’s what I do when the music stops. I find some other medium to entertain myself with.
Little Angels will release Big Bad & Back on 6 November 2026, their first new material since 1994 and their first new music in 32 years. The five-track EP arrives as the band reunites for the Big Bad & Back UK and Ireland tour, with new single Hero (That Was Then, This Is Now) out now.
More information is available at LittleAngelsOfficial.com. Pre-orders on CD and Vinyl are available here. You can pre-save the EP at slinky.to/BigBadBackEP.
November

Enjoyed this Lowdown? Explore more from the series, featuring Vanessa Warwicke, Baz Mills, Krusher Joule and Howard H Smith, with Zorn and Skindred’s Arya Goggin coming soon. Same questions. Very different people. Read more MetalTalk Lowdowns here.





