No-one knows what
Jeff Lynne’s face looks like.
It’s the
greatest mystery of the late 20th / early 21st Century;
something the fantastically talented singer / songwriter, producer and
multi-instrumentalist couldn’t even answer himself. When he burst
on the scene in 1970 as a member of Roy Wood’s band The Move, the trademark
ginger beard and afro were already present. By the time they’d morphed into ELO, he’d discovered his love for sunglasses. Since then, he’s never looked back (unless turning left
or right). He’s maintained the same stylistic choices for forty-four years. Until I
see evidence to the contrary, I wouldn't be surprised to learn he'd had facial hair
since birth.
Perhaps he kept the look to
protect his anonymity. All he has to do to keep a low profile is remove his
glasses and straighten his hair. Shave off the beard and he’d be
unrecognisable. Noel Edmonds adopts a similar approach, to less success: run a razor across his face and you’re left with Sandi Toksvig.
 |
| Toksvig? |
This would admittedly
cause problems if Jeff wanted to change back quickly. He’d have to buy a
convincing stick-on one. Either that, or dye some iron filings red before sucking on a magnet.
In 2002, I toured
the UK in Bill Kenwright’s The Roy Orbison Story, playing a variety of people, including Paul McCartney and, briefly, Jeff Lynne. The quick-change
before The Traveling Wilburys scene was so brief, I only had time to stick on a
white suit jacket, a shit wig and a pair of Elton-John-scale sunglasses. I was
the tallest, skinniest member of the supergroup. While I stand by my theory
that no-one knows what Lynne looks like clean-shaven, it’s safe to assume it’d
be nothing like me.