How Robbie deserted Pop

There have been many times when the laws of synchronicity have let us all down, but, for me, the most disappointing is that Sigmund Freud was not around to shed some light on the nature of the relationship between pop stars and their parents.

If you recall, he produced a groundbreaking theory involving boys and their mums, and the way the former tend to try and cut out the dad to get to the latter. He called this the Oedipus Theory. I think he would have had a field day with pop stars, for what are they but the valiant warriors of our day? And just look at the problems that they have with their parents! Unlike Oedipus, this is usually a boy/dad thing.

Think of the number of times a young lad has made it to the top of the pop tree, and the first event that occurs when he is comfortably perched there is that the dad who left the family home under a cloud 15 years before is suddenly spotted at the bottom of said tree, shaking the branches for all he's worth. Son tells dad to sod off, and dad promptly heads for the nearest tabloid newspaper and fills his pockets with money by ransacking his worthless memories.

An even more interesting scenario, and one which I am sure would have fascinated Dr Freud, was set out in Robbie Williams Is My Son (Five), which may have been one of the most moving documentaries ever made, or not, depending on your point of view.

We first met Pete Conway, father of Robbie and all-round entertainer in his own right, as he prepared to leave the rather basic set of rooms near Worksop, which he had inhabited for many years in conjunction with performing as the MC in some sort of country club from the Dark Ages.

What Pete was mostly doing was taking down from the walls cherished mementos of his son, Robbie, including cartoons that belittled him - the father, not the son - and framed bits of paper from the Ivor Novello Awards. After a couple of minutes, the truth of Pete's situation was made clear: no job, no money to speak of, no home and, crucially, no son.

Pete Conway was obviously a decent chap. He was not one of those pop dads that I alluded to earlier. Pete had maintained a good relationship with his son over the years, and far from running to the tabloids with his trouser pockets hanging out, had behaved with remarkable restraint and dignity. He was proud of the boy and his achievements.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Robbie had just got too busy to get in touch. He had gone to Los Angeles to cavort in a swimming pool with some new friends and had somehow mislaid the telephone number of a country club just outside Worksop. Understandable in the circumstances, some might say. Basically, Pete had not heard from Robbie for about a year.

We then undertook a tour of Robbie's youth as seen through the eyes of his dad. (It probably does not need pointing out that the young Mr. Williams did not take an active part in the making of this programme. At this stage in his career, he does not need to make documentaries for Five. Those will come later.)

Pete was a footloose man, pursuing his trade as all-round entertainer and MC around the holiday camps of the United Kingdom. Robbie often accompanied him. In other words, Robbie learnt his trade at the elbow of his father. He must have seen more bad cabaret than any other young boy in the country.

I think this tells us rather a lot about Robbie Williams, and in particular about his seemingly distant relationship with his father. When it was revealed that Pete Conway had won New Faces in the Seventies, it all became clear, and it was at that juncture that I decided to step into Freud's pointy shoes.

What we were looking at is what I have chosen to call the Steptoe Complex. This involves a complex relationship between father and son. Steptoe and Son, if you recall, was the story of two rag-and-bone men who lived in Shepherd's Bush. The son despised the father in many ways, and was frustrated that his upward mobility was constantly checked. At heart, however, he knew for a horrible fact that he and his father were cut from the same basic cloth. I put it to you that the same is true of Williams pere et fils. They are both songand-dance men. One is upwardly mobile and the other is most certainly not. But when you look at Robbie and all his winsome little ways, what do you see? Holiday camp - and I use the phrase in all its richness of meaning.

I'm relieved to say that Robbie did eventually pick up the phone and call dad. The father was even invited to LA to visit his son and, one trusts, have a bit of a giggle and a knees-up. I say "one trusts" because part of the deal for the trip was that no cameras were allowed to be present, and Pete was not allowed to make any public comment on what occurred during his stay. Fair enough, I suppose, but I felt, for once, that the pop dad was getting the bum deal.