Sergio Pizzorno’s Tour Life Diary
Photography: Neil Bedford
Words: Joe Bobowicz
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Rome, Italy, 2014
Sergio Lorenzo Pizzorno, or “Serge” as he introduces himself, is undoubtedly one of the world’s finest songwriters. In fact, since 1997 he’s served as Kasabian’s in-house scribe, despite being only semi-literate. “I’m not a great speller, to put it mildly,” he laughs. No matter, for his lyrics have earned him and his bandmates a not-so-modest six UK number 1 albums. Speaking with a Leicester lilt, he decorates his sentences with F-bombs and unfiltered honesty. He is, in every sense, the real deal.
Of course, behind the man, there’s years of graft and an inability to switch off from work – a blessing and a curse. No one, besides his fellow Kasabianites, knows this better than his best friend and band photographer Neil Bedford, who has followed Pizzorno camera in hand since 2011 when they met on set for the Switchblade Smiles music video. Bedford, a softly spoken northerner, was already a fanboy.
“I tried to be cool and calm,” he remembers.
“Anyway, we just hit it off. It’s easy with a man like Serge because he likes football, fashion, art. Everything I like.” One thing led to another, and very soon, Bedford was part of the family. Now, after 12 years documenting the band, Bedford presents a new series, selecting one image from each year.
Homing in on Pizzorno, whose handwritten lyrics overlay each snap, the works display the highs, lows and moments between that characterise life on tour. Whether it’s Pizzorno asleep on a tour bus somewhere in Czech Republic or jamming, shoeless, in a London studio, the images historicise both band life and its relentless demands. It is here, inside the circuit of preparation, performance and comedown that Bedford thrives. Until he met the band, he was mostly a studio photographer in fashion and advertising, namechecking portraits for Noel Gallagher and Pharrell Williams alike.
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RAK Studios, London, 2016
However, with Kasabian, he gets the full emotional package rather than an orchestrated 20-minute slot. Pre-Kasabian, he planned shoots meticulously. With Kasabian, he’s at the mercy of the gig. Indeed, it’s complex. For Pizzorno, every detail matters in the leadup to his set, especially since he was appointed frontman in 2020. “The prep before was timing the drink just right to be on stage at your optimum level,” he smiles. “I would have about 30 minutes before the gig and put some tunes on. Those days are. gone.”
Now, it’s a tee-total, in-the-zone method that gets him up, although a tight playlist remains essential. “When I arrive at a gig, I just feel the air,” says Pizzorno. Festival or intimate performance, every scenario has a catered gameplan. For the former, he morphs into a “monster”, while for the latter, it’s about curating his motions and gestures in line with a crowd’s mood.
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Moscow, Russia, 2017
In Pizzorno’s eyes, showmanship is an art form you study. His inspiration? Daniel Day-Lewis, A1 Pacino, Iggy Pop, Kendrick Lamar… Anyone that can make a room stand still. “I use Kendrick as an example because he’s got this whole story,” says Pizzorno. “When he did Glastonbury, 1 was just like, ‘Man, that’s changed the game.” Granted, Pizzorno still labels himself as a songwriter first and foremost, but his training has begun paying off. The electrifying performance at Brixton Academy in 2022 is a case in point. The finale of some 17 shows across 20 days, it put paid to any doubts around Pizzorno’s new role. Bedford’s post-show snap stands as living proof, freezing Pizzorno’s relief forever.
Certainly, Bedford had known better all along, instantly marking Pizzorno as a muse. Pore through the photos, and you see just what Bedford could. In one black-and-white image from a performance at the Albert Hall in 2018, Pizzorno is splayed across a couch, topless, barely clutching his cup. He’s visibly exhausted but still evokes star quality. “You walk from a room with 6,000 people screaming – chaos,” says Pizzorno. “And then 30 seconds later, you’re in a room in silence thinking, ‘What the hell just has happened?”
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Showing more than just the glossy highlights, the photos also journal the inevitable crash that completes the performer’s cathartic journey. As such, Bedford’s familiarity and rapport with Pizzorno goes a long way in making the rawest moments poetic. Take, for example, the 2012 shot of Pizzorno in bed at the Bowery hotel in New York City, still wearing last night’s makeup. His hangover is palpable. “Neil and I like to have a debrief,” says Pizzorno. “A little fucking cup of of tea and chat about what went down the night before.”
It’s not all in-the-moment carnage, though. Bedford also experiments with playful staging. In one picture, taken in 2017, Pizzorno sits on the windowsill of a Moscow hotel, the curtain intentionally hung before him. On the bed: four Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles masks from a promo shoot for Instagram. At first, Bedford was going to only shoot the masks but soon changed his mind. “I think there’s a bit more mystery,” he says. “You’re like, why is the geezer sat behind the blind with four turtle masks in front of him wearing a star jumper?”
Bedford’s secret? He thinks like a fan to get the best out of the band. Fortunately, this comes naturally to him as he is, quite openly, besotted with Pizzorno and Kasabian. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do when it comes to getting to gigs,” he affirms. To date, he’s missed a mere two, although this included the Glastonbury 2014 Kasabian headlined. “It still hurts,” he says. “If you like football, it’s like playing for your club is your career, and then the international call is when you get asked to go On tour with the band.”
From this labour of love comes an archive of memories that, until now, only the band and Bedford knew. It’s a generous offering that shares the romance and rigour of backstage life, but still keeps the wildest antics hidden. “Those secrets will die with us,” says Pizzorno.
