Ah, I Remember It Well

For forty years I've been a witness (and sometime participant) to pop history. Here are some more of about 300 of my favorite stories I like to call:
Brief Encounters
Bobby Darin was the first professional to recognize my talent and offer his help... you could say he discovered me. Although he was certainly a mentor, I never knew how committed he was to folk music until Capitol Records reluctantly released "Earthy" in 1963. The album came out unnoticed between a wave of top ten pop singles. It had some incredible material on it that reflected the spirit of the times and Bobby performed it brilliantly! I was so impressed with the album I learned 3 or 4 songs on my guitar and performed them live with some of my originals and some songs from my friend Paul Simon, who also occasionally backed me up on guitar. One night, after my first set at the Bitter End in Greenwich Village, a stranger came backstage and asked if he could sit in and play guitar on the next set. Paul looked at me and I looked at the stranger like he was crazy....until he said he was Bobby Darin's guitarist. I knew I was "busted," so I just smiled and let Roger (then Jim) McGuinn, sit in with us.
	This was my Liberty Records publicity picture in 1964, taken by James Kreigsman. It was in a glass display outside of Carnegie Hall (in Kreigsman's window) the night the Beatles made their debut there. I wasn't just excited to see the group.......I knew my picture would be seen and photographed by the media covering the event. Unfortunately, when I exited after the show, I saw that the glass covering my picture was entirely covered in graffiti made by adoring fans....of the Beatles......not mine!!
I first met Jackie DeShannon back in 1964, when she was on tour with The Beatles. We had talked on the phone a few times after I cut a couple of her songs with Joey Powers (for whom I had produced "Midnight Mary") and we arranged to get together when she got to New York. We hit it off immediately, with our mutual love of music, dancing and art museums. I was going to show her "My New York," but she would up showing me hers. That world included after hour jam sessions in Greenwich Village with Dave Van Ronk, John Hammond Jr. and Tom Paxton. My first (and only) single for Liberty Records, "Where Does A Rock and Roll Singer Go (When His Record's Off The Charts)?" had just bombed out and I was discouraged with the music business in the States. Jackie suggested that I go to London (where I had just scored a top ten hit with "Queen For Tonight" by Helen Shapiro) in November, 1964, when she would be there promoting her latest single. Once again I was swept away to her galaxy, becoming friends with one of her co-writers, Jimmy Page, watching her perform on "Ready, Steady, Go!!" and going on several stops of the Beatles promo tour for "Beatles For Sale." Jackie and I never dated, but we hung out a lot, until a misunderstanding (too petty to remember) threatened our relationship and we hadn't spoken in a month. Then, the day after I had open heart surgery (back in N.Y.), she called me from a recording studio to see how I was. She had the engineer play the backing track she was working on....and sang "What The World Needs Now Is Love" to me over the phone. I can't tell you how much that meant to me....but I actually made medical history by walking around 36 hours after my operation!
Being an "anglophile" and a British Film aficionado, I was able to understand the thickest English accents, so when I first me The Animals in N.Y. we had no trouble communicating and I even occasionally became an interpreter for them with some of the American press who had trouble understanding their thick Geordie accents. Before the English Invasion, blues had never been a big part of my life, but hanging with the Animals, who were taking their version of the blues to the top of the charts, changed that. Chas Chandler [bass player for the Animals] and I became pretty good friends and he turned me on to a lot of great blues records I'd never heard, and I went with he and his pals to clubs in Greenwich Village and Harlem that featured the blues. When I went to London for the first time, Chas reciprocated and took me on a tour of the local music scene. We jammed with Howlin' Wolf and Sonny Boy Williamson at Mike Jeffrey's (the Animals manager) house. He also introduced me to Giorgio Gomelsky, who discovered the Rolling Stones and the Yardbirds. Giorgio in turn continued my education by taking me to see an act he was working with, John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, featuring a teenage Eric Clapton. We have a lot of English artists to thank for putting the spotlight on a genre of music that might have remained "undernoticed."
In 1964, also on my first trip to London, Chas Chandler introduced me to his producer, Mickey Most, who invited me to the background vocal overdubbing session for "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood". As a songwriter/producer, I was really excited to see one of the worlds top producers up close. Although he was a meticulous creator and knew how to bring the best out of his artists, I believe his greatest talent was his ability to pick hit songs. Over the years ,as we became friends, he made me acutely aware of the importance of the song and helped hone my skills both as writer and publisher. Mickey always made sure that I was contacted every time he came to New York looking for material, which was flattering, considering that he never recorded any of my songs. Seeing him meant listening to his new product, which never failed to elicit hours of raves from me. I remember when he came by my office at Scepter records and played "Sunshine Superman" and "Mellow Yellow" by Donovan before he delivered the masters to Epic.......you can imagine how blown away I was!!! The last time I saw him was in 1980, when I was producing a single on myself as an artist for Chrysalis Music [UK] and had gone horribly over budget. He listened to my tracks and gave me $10,000 in free studio time to finish it up. I couldn't thank him enough, but my "chemically fueled" out of control ego wouldn't allow me to complete the project .......that's when I came back to the U.S. broke and brokenhearted.......and left the music business. I'm glad to say I've learned from my mistakes. If I have any other regrets, it's that I didn't keep up a lot of relationships I made through the years. You don't meet someone like Mickey Most very often but when you do....you should cherish them.
In 1971, the single "Stoney End" by Barbra Streisand was in the top ten, but her album wasn’t finished yet. Richard Perry, who was the producer, called me up on a Sunday afternoon and asked if I wanted to listen to the final mixes on Barbra's album. Needless to say I was thrilled, but as I sat in the studio listening to the playback something was bothering me. I couldn’t hear the lyrics loud enough over the track!! As I sheepishly told Richard what I thought, his engineer, Bill Schnee ,jumped up and said, "I told you Richard……You can’t hear the lyrics !!" Richard looking a little stunned, smiled, thanked me for coming down and started re-mixing again. The already overdue album was finally released a month later. My friend Allan Rinde, who was the Columbia Records' West Coast Contemporary A+R director, told me that I’d be banned from the company forever if I ever interfered with any of their producers again!!
I first visited Hollywood in 1968 for a combo business trip/Quicky divorce. Having lived all my life in New York, I never learned how to drive ,so my friend Richard Baskin would take me to my appointments. Richard (who a few years later produced the music for Robert Altmans "Nashville”, Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again”, and several outstanding cuts with Barbra Streisand) was still in school and one of the heirs to Baskin/Robbins ice cream. At his friends and family's request I tried to talk him into staying in school……put music aspirations on hold and consider going into the family business. But after one particular day there was no going back. After an appointment I had with Lou Adler on the A&M lot……I took Richard on a tour of the facility. I introduced him to Herb Alpert, who introduced both of us to Joan Baez. Then we checked out the recording studios to see who was there. That’s when I ran into Phil Spector, who I’d known since my days as an artist at Liberty Records. I introduced him to Richard, who I knew idolized him. Phil invited us into the studio to listen to a track he was doing some vocals on with the Checkmates, "Proud Mary". When Phil signaled to the engineer to start the tape……I was standing in front of the speaker and was literally blown away…..not just by the recording but by the incredible volume!!! Phil smiled enigmatically as Richard helped me maintain my balance. As Richard was driving me back to my hotel I asked him if had thought about what we discussed earlier in the day? He looked at me, with stars in his eyes ,and said, "Yeah……..F#*!! Ice cream……I’m going into the music business!!"
Richard Perry and I became friends in the mid-sixties when we were neighbors at 1650 Broadway. He was producing the "God Bless Tiny Tim" album and recorded one of my songs, "Daddy, Daddy What Is Heaven Like?" His first Gold Album, and mine. Over the years, he became the number one producer that writers and publishers would pursue, as Richard is not a songwriter and depends totally on outside material. When I ran the professional department at Warner Bros. Music in the early '70's, Richard was always the first to hear our best songs. My boss, Ed Silvers, suggested that I update the old Johnny Burnette hit, "You're 16," with a New Orleans feel for Richard's upcoming Fats Domino session. Richard loved it, but didn't cut it with Fats. Over the next two and a half years it was turned down by 122 artists and producers. My little piano voice demo became an ongoing joke at Warner's....until Richard Perry finally cut it with Ringo Starr and sold 5 million records