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HERMAN IS WORRIED. He's found himself at the crossroads of his spectacular career and admits he just doesn't know which way to turn.
In an incredibly honest and frank interview over a couple of cartons of BBC tea at "Top Of The Pops" last week, the much-maligned Pete Noone, dollar millionaire extraordinary, told me:
"I WOULDN'T MIND LOSING A WHOLE YEAR'S WORK IF I COULD JUST DO SOMETHING GOOD. At the moment I don't know which way to go. I feel we've reached the third step out of five. Now we've got to find out what the top two steps are."
Talking slowly and sensibly, but all the time fiddling nervously with the canteen's plastic tea spoons (he successfully destroyed two of them after a lot of chewing and bending), he went on:
"We want time to form some sort of progression. For too long we've been caught up in the big blast of becoming popular. There's been no time to talk among ourselves. We've got ourselves into a bag and have got to find some way of getting out of it.
"We used to enjoy playing songs like "Mrs. Brown" once. But that's being killed now. Too many people want us to stay in the same bag because it's commercial."

Stones

He paused, lit yet another of my French cigarettes, drew on it strongly, and explained:
"We've all made musical and mental progression but haven't put it over on record yet. That's one of the things that worries me. If I did what I wanted to do in the recording studio, I'd probably ruin everything, I know. But at least I'd be doing something I wanted."
"IN A WAY WE'RE VERY SIMILAR TO THE STONES. THEY'RE IN A BAG WHERE THEY FIND THEMSELVES BEING UNCOOPERATIVE. I'M SURE THEY'D LIKE OTHER PEOPLE, ASIDE FROM THE SCREAMERS, TO LIKE THEM.
"For instance, Mick Jagger can do other things apart from jumping around on stage. But then he's making money, isn't he? And I suppose he doesn't want to change it."

Surprisingly, too, Mr. Noone is worried about his money. He freely admits he has so much he really doesn't know what to do with it all.
"Money doesn't mean anything to me any more," he told me. "When I'm tipping waiters or taxi-drivers, I go mad. Then I'll think: 'Have I given them too much?'
"Listen. In the past two months or so I've spent Ł800 - yes, Ł800 - on records alone! I've hardly played any of them. They're just cluttering up the place. Why did I do it? I don't know!"
Herman lit my umpteenth Disque Bleu! (He won't smoke anything else). "I pick them up on the plane to Paris," he enthused. "You can get about 200 for 17s! Great!" A couple of canteens hands hovered with serviettes and biros wanting his autograph.
"I've also got so many clothes I never know what to wear," he continued. "I have made a fortune from doing what I have - but I'm still unhappy. I've just made money. That's all.
"I CAUGHT MY HAND IN A DOOR THE OTHER DAY AND TRIED TO CRY. BUT I COULDN'T. I SUDDENLY FOUND I COULDN'T CRY ANYMORE. ISN'T THAT TERRIBLE?"
Herman is unhappy about his films, too. He feels too many people are telling him what to do - but admits they DO know what's right for him.
"While we were making 'Hold On' we were constantly being protected. They wouldn't let us smoke and do things like that.
"I'm 18 now - but I'll be 19 soon! Perhaps things will change then," he grinned. "Really I'd like to be ten or eleven again. I'd love that!"
About America, where his popularity exceeds almost any other British pop star, he admitted:
"I like being popular in the U.S. I've worked very hard to become popular there. Some folks don't like us because we've made it. But deep down a lot of groups would give anything to be like us."
From now until December 20 Herman's Hermits have no full-time engagements.
"The next 12 weeks are going to be the most important in my life," proclaimed the boy wonder. "There's something I have got to do. Trouble is I just can't work out what it is!"