There are some musicians whose names become attached to an instrument so completely that it can be difficult to see beyond it. Jon Lord is one of those artists. Mention his name and most people will immediately think of that thunderous Hammond organ sound that helped define Deep Purple — the attack of Highway Star, the drama of Child in Time, the sheer weight of Smoke on the Water, and the brilliance of Burn and Perfect Strangers.
But as anyone who has followed Jon Lord’s full career will know, he was far more than “the Hammond player in Deep Purple.”
That is exactly why I was so pleased to sit down with author Ovais Naqvi to discuss his remarkable new book, Before We Forget. This is not a standard rock biography. It does not simply move from album to album, year to year, repeating familiar stories. Instead, Ovais has approached Jon Lord through his sound, instruments, influences, compositional voice and musical thinking. And that makes this book something genuinely special.
What struck me immediately in our conversation was the depth of Ovais’s respect for Jon Lord as both a musician and a human being. He spoke beautifully about wanting to write a book that Jon himself would have felt comfortable with — one that honoured his memory rather than poking around in areas of his private life that he had always kept guarded. That, to me, says a great deal about the spirit of this project.
A different way into Jon Lord
Ovais explained that he wanted to tell Jon Lord’s story through the thing that mattered most: the music itself.
That means the book goes deep into the Hammond organs, the synthesizers, the pianos, the sonic experiments, the live rig, the changes in tone from one era to another, and the extraordinary way Lord adapted his playing to different situations. It is the sort of detail usually reserved for books about guitarists, yet here it is applied to one of the most important keyboard players in rock history.
And the more you think about it, the more sense it makes.
Jon Lord was not simply “playing keyboard parts.” He was building an architecture of sound inside Deep Purple and beyond. In the Mark II era especially, he and Ritchie Blackmore created a kind of twin attack that was unlike anything else in rock. Most bands had twin guitars. Deep Purple had guitar and Hammond organ locked together in combat, conversation and complement.
As Ovais pointed out, Lord found a way to make the Hammond work inside a heavily amplified hard rock setting. That was not inevitable. Plenty of players used Hammond in the late 1960s and early 1970s, but Jon Lord created a sound that could stand shoulder to shoulder with Blackmore’s guitar. That is part of why Deep Purple still sounds so immense.
The overlooked art of serving the song
One of the most interesting points Ovais made was that Jon Lord was not driven by ego. In fact, he often seemed to underplay his own importance.
That humility comes through in the way he approached different bands and line-ups. In Deep Purple he could lead, compete, accompany or completely change role depending on what the music needed. In Whitesnake, where he was no longer one of the central defining figures in the same way, he still found ways to contribute memorably — shaping the atmosphere underneath the twin guitars, creating those melodic solo passages, and giving the songs a texture that many listeners probably felt before they consciously noticed it.
I found that fascinating, because like many fans of my generation I first knew Jon Lord primarily through Deep Purple. Yet Ovais made a very convincing case that Lord’s work in Whitesnake deserves more attention than it often gets. Not because it was louder or flashier, but because it showed just how musical and adaptable he was.
More than the Hammond organ
One of the revelations of Before We Forget is just how experimental Jon Lord really was.
We tend to think of him as the Hammond loyalist — and of course that is central to his story — but Ovais has documented the wider picture in great detail. Mellotron, RMI piano, Fender Rhodes, ARP synthesizers, Moog, Yamaha, Emulator systems and much more all form part of the story. The point is not to diminish the Hammond, but to show that Lord was always searching, always refining, always looking for the right sound for the music in front of him.
That experimental streak is easy to miss because he wore it so lightly. He was not a show-off. He did not present himself as some grand technological pioneer. But the evidence is there in the records and on the stage, and Ovais brings that to life superbly.
The emotional and spiritual side of Jon Lord
For me, one of the most moving parts of our conversation was when we talked about Jon Lord’s later music — especially Pictured Within and works such as Durham Concerto.
I have always felt that Pictured Within changed everything.
It is the point where Jon Lord seems to open the door and let us see more of the man behind the public image. The lyrics are deeply personal, full of love, loss, memory and reflection. If all you know is the Jon Lord of Made in Japan, Burn or Ready an’ Willing, then hearing Pictured Within can be a profound experience. It reveals a tenderness and vulnerability that had always been there, but had not been expressed so openly before.
Ovais spoke passionately about this side of Lord’s work, and I completely agreed with him. These later compositions are not side notes or curiosities. They are essential to understanding Jon Lord as a complete artist.
And Durham Concerto in particular remains, for me, one of the clearest examples of just how significant a composer he became. This is not music built around keyboard heroics. It is not about solos. It is about shape, atmosphere, emotional movement and composition. Morning, afternoon, evening — it unfolds with the assurance of someone who had lived long enough to know exactly what he wanted to say.
That, perhaps, is the great sadness. Jon Lord was beginning to be recognised not just as a rock legend but as a serious British composer. It feels as though he was still moving forward, still growing, still finding new ways to express something profound when he was taken from us too soon.
A book that makes you listen again
What I loved most about talking to Ovais was that his passion for the subject is matched by his care. This is not research for the sake of showing off. It is research in service of understanding. And that is why Before We Forget works so well.
It made me want to go back and listen again — not just to the famous albums, but to all of it. Who Do We Think We Are, Sarabande, Windows, Pictured Within, Durham Concerto, the Whitesnake years, the reunion years, the later orchestral works. The book sends you back to the music with fresh ears.
And that is surely the highest compliment I can pay it.
If a book about music does not make you want to put the records on, then it has missed something vital. Before We Forgetabsolutely does the opposite. It sends you down the rabbit hole again — but this time with a deeper understanding of how Jon Lord built that sound, and why it still matters.
For Deep Purple fans, Jon Lord admirers, collectors, keyboard enthusiasts, and anyone interested in the meeting point of rock and classical music, this is a book well worth your time.
Jon Lord was never just playing notes. He was creating spaces, moods, storms and memories.
And Before We Forget reminds us why we should keep listening.
