On April 19, 1968, four musicians who barely knew each other met at the Nag's Head, a pub in Battersea, south London, and started to play. Guitarist Paul Kossoff, 17, and drummer Simon Kirke had been grinding through blues clubs together in a group called Black Cat Bones; singer Paul Rodgers, a docker's son from Middlesbrough, had jammed with Kossoff once before and had already turned down an invitation to join that band. Bassist Andy Fraser, 15, had just been fired from John Mayall's Bluesbreakers. The blues elder statesman Alexis Korner brokered the match and named the new quartet Free. Their sound paired Kossoff's spare, vibrato-heavy guitar with Rodgers' soul-schooled voice; the 1970 single "All Right Now," born of a disastrous college gig, made them stars almost overnight. Kossoff's addiction split the band by 1973; he was dead within three years, at 25.
In December 1965, seventeen-year-old Paul Kossoff caught Eric Clapton playing with John Mayall's Bluesbreakers at a north London club called The Refectory, and it changed his life. "I didn't know who he was or what had gone down, but here's all these people yelling, 'God! God!'" he said. "He really caught my attention." Kossoff picked up a secondhand Gibson Les Paul and gave up the classical lessons his parents had paid for. Four years later, touring with Free, he found himself swapping guitars with Clapton, who'd stopped him backstage to ask how he got that vibrato.
listen forOn "Hideaway," Clapton fires off fast runs but leaves real air between them, letting single notes ring before the next phrase starts. That same discipline turns up in the solo on "Fire and Water," where Kossoff holds one bent note, shakes it, and waits before answering himself. Neither guitarist rushes to fill a silence — the pause carries as much weight as the note either side of it. It's the vibrato-and-space vocabulary Kossoff said he built from watching Clapton live, not from copying his licks note for note.
A magazine profile of Kossoff put his tastes plainly: hooked on Clapton, Peter Green, and what his circle called "the three Kings" — Albert, Freddie, and B.B. One of them made it onto record. Free's debut, Tons of Sobs, cut in a single week with Island Records' in-house producer Guy Stevens, included a swaggering cover of Albert King's arrangement of "The Hunter." Island's boss, Chris Blackwell, had already clocked the band that June, watching them open for Albert King himself at London's Marquee club — proximity as much as admiration.
listen forKing's guitar on "Born Under a Bad Sign" bends a note further than you expect it to go, then leaves it hanging over an almost bare rhythm track. Free's cover, retitled simply "The Hunter," keeps that same wide, deliberate bend and the same amount of open space around it, though Kossoff's tone runs thicker and more distorted than King's clean Stax sound. Listen for how long each guitarist lets a note hang before moving on — both treat silence as part of the phrase, not a gap in it.
Rodgers and bassist Andy Fraser had built a shared record collection before Free existed. "Well, Paul of course was a major influence, and all the people we listened to together," Fraser said in 2005, naming a list that ran from Aretha Franklin to Otis Redding — "before FREE, it would include a lot of the soul singers, Sam and Dave, Wilson Pickett, all the Motown people." Rodgers said as much himself decades later, naming Redding directly as one of "my soul influences" behind the gospel-schooled shout he brought to a band otherwise built from guitar worship.
listen forOn "I've Been Loving You Too Long," Redding starts almost conversational, then lets his voice fray and climb as the song goes, cracking on the high notes instead of smoothing them over. Rodgers does the same thing on "Heavy Load" — a measured, low verse that opens into a rasped, straining peak by the last chorus, control visibly slipping on purpose. It's the same soul-singer's trick: hold back so the release means something, then let the voice show what it cost to get there.