Bobby Jameson Story From The Beginning

Me, My Mother, And Bill In 1948

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Me And My Brother Bill In The 50's And 60's

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My brother Bill looked a lot like Buddy Holly

(part 1) A Day In The Life Of Bobby Jameson...I Just Liked Music, that's All

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THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 2007

I was born in Geneva Illinois in 1945. For the most part I grew up in Arizona and Calif. in the early fifties. I remember listening to the radio at night when I was supposed to be sleeping. I'd try and remember the words to all the songs I liked so I could sing them to myself. I didn't much care about anything else except maybe girls. They were a mystery. They always seem to pretend not to like me even though in the end I'd find out they did. I never did get that. I mean it seemed like a lot of trouble to go through considering it wasn't true anyway. Oh well, girls. Ladies. Women. It still hasn't changed all these years later.

By 1955 I was living in Tucson, Arizona and Rock N Roll was really getting going. My step father hated it, but my mom liked it.
He blamed everything he didn't like about us on "that music" and "those people." Particularly the hair. He really hated the hair styles. You know, "duck tails" and the length. He used to tell us we looked like girls "always lookin at yourselves in the mirror."

My brother and I started watching American Bandstand every day so we could see how everybody looked and danced and then we'd copy them. I remember starting to make up songs instead of learning someone else's, so I guess that was the beginning of my song writing days. My brother and I both got guitars from Sears and started learning how to play them. Nothing real elaborate, just chords, so we could play songs. I'd already worked out some doo wop tunes on my mom's piano, so adding guitars just expanded my horizons.

By 1957 my brother and I started playing at talent shows and at a place called Kal Rueben's Furniture City on Speedway Blvd., in Tucson. People seemed to like us and said we were like the Everly Brothers. This was a big building full of furniture deals and in the middle of the place was a one story pedestal, from where you could see the whole store. We had a couple of mics set up and would sing songs while people broused for furniture deals. Their kids would stand around and watch us play for an hour or so, and the store just kept having us back.

As I wrote earlier, my brother Bill and I were rock n rollers from an early age and I was convinced in about 1957 that I was destined to be a "teen idol" after watching the likes of Elvis Presley, Ricky Nelson, Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry. Of course there were countless others, but I think you get the general idea of what I was inspired by. Some people liked science I liked rock n roll.

My mother and step father separated in 1958, and later divorced. It was the second failed marriage of my mother's and was a loss to me. What little adult supervision I'd had became at that point even more sparse. Like a boat without a rudder, I struggled to find my way, as did my brother Bill who, to make matters worse, suffered from mental and emotional problems. Looking back it's hard to believe that when you're living in that kind of confusion it almost gets to be normal. Of course later you can see clearly how difficult it made everything.

It wasn't all that long after my step father left that my mother moved us all to St. Johns AZ. where I was tossed into a small town environment of Mormons on one side and American Indians on the other. Man, what an unbelievable place to end up. Kinda like the deep south in the 50's. This town was split right down the middle and no one was going to give an inch. Of course my brother and I ended up on the line between the two warring parties and tilted a little bit towards the Indians. This pissed off the lily white Mormons to the bone.

We were immediate outcasts and wondered what kind of hell my mother had brought us to. She ended up marrying a Mormon named Francis Farr, who was also a quadriplegic. This town was in northern AZ west of Flagstaff and got bitter cold in the winter. We lived in an old house with no heat just a wood burning stove. You'd have to put wood in this thing the night before and then when you woke up in the morning you'd go light it and hall ass back into bed until the place warmed up enough to walk around in. No shit! It was so cold you could see your breath in the house in the morning.

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THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2007

(part 2) St. Johns, Arizona High School

I watched my brother get beaten in a fight in front of the entire student body of St. Johns High School. We'd played at a school assembly a couple of months earlier, for the first time, and the attitude toward us from then on was completely different. A lot of people liked it, but a lot of them hated our guts for becoming the center of attention. Some of the top guys in school now had to worry whether their girl friends had a new interest in us. Hell, we were like mini stars of a piss ant town and some of them were down right threatened by it, hence the fight.

It was just a matter of time before it happened and it happened at the school dance. My brother, who was a good fighter, got sucker punched by a football player and never had a chance. The Mormon principle of the school stood by and watched the whole thing happen and did nothing. I was beside myself screaming at him to stop it, but to no avail. The Indian kids knew what was going on, they'd seen that kind of shit all their lives. In the end it was them who picked my brother up off the ground and tried to clean him up. It was a beating, not a fight. It was a goddamned beating!

After that my brother just deteriorated mentally. Something inside him gave up and not too much later he ended up in the state mental hospital and was never the same. I vowed that from that day on no one would ever do that to me. It created a will in me that to this day I still possess. It has caused me great difficulty.

My mother moved to Mesa, the third biggest Mormon city in Arizona, to be closer to the state hospital in Phoenix where my brother Bill was. That is when she actually married Francis Farr, the Mormon in a wheel chair. That is where I learned to work like a Mexican field hand loading hay trucks in and around Phoenix in the summer when it was 120 degrees. He rarely paid me, but worked me like a dog. 18 tons of alfalfa a day. I worked with Indians, Mexicans, and poor whites. I gained their respect even though they knew I was the boss's son, because I worked harder than any of them, I had to. We unloaded box cars at night, because it was too hot to work inside them in the daytime.

I tried to prove myself to this asshole, but I never could. He made promises to me to get me to work, but he never kept one. Finally one afternoon I flipped out and blasted him with the rankest kind of language I could think up. I was 15 years old, going on 16, and had had enough. I told him I would never work for him again and from that day forward I never did.

For the next couple of years I got into trouble. I got thrown out of every school I went to and basically became a pain in the ass. It was because of this time that music, the only thing I really loved, began to appear as my only possible chance to escape the depressing conditions of my life. My mother's marriages and my brother's mental illness had taken their toll on me and at times I thought about killing myself to get away from the stark disappointment of my existence. But somehow I always managed to find a reason to keep going. I just kept thinking that music had the power to get me out of this mess. If I could just make a record, people might like it and I'd make some money and change my life.

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SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2007

(part 3) They Just Laughed At Me

I didn't have many friends in Mesa, Az. as you might imagine. Let's face it, it was the early 60's like 1960 I'm talking about. John Kennedy was about to be president and the country was going to go through one of the biggest social revolutions in history, but I'm talking about the time that preceded it. The still lingering, black's didn't have the right to vote yet end of the 50's early 60's. A dark social fabric of middle america where husbands could slap their wife around and still beat their kids without being arrested. If I know anything, it was one of the root causes for the 60's social rebellion and I was part of it. The few friends I did have would laugh at me and say I was crazy when I'd try and tell them about my music. They'd look at me like I was from another planet and start to question whether they wanted to know me at all.

Because of this I didn't bring it up much until I had a few beers and got just high enough and brave enough to talk about it. They'd make fun of me and say things like, "Bobby thinks he's a rock n roll star, but he's really just an ass hole". Every now and then I'd have to fight one of these guys to keep from getting pushed around so much. Fighting was something I got better and better at as time went by. Remember, this was Mesa AZ. a town full of Mormon cowboys who went to church a lot and then drank and fought on the weekends. Very similar to the christian right in present time.

The more I had to endure this shit the more I made up my mind to get out. To get as far away from these kind of people as I could. I doubt I could have been more serious than I was and used it for motivation to succeed in doing just that. As luck would have it Francis Farr, the Mormon husband, and my mom weren't doing all that well which in the long run got her to leave Mesa and go to Glendale CA. where her brother Norm and his wife lived. God, I can't tell you what this meant to me. A glimmer of hope for the future. Away from the shit kickers and Mormon pricks who I'd learned to hate with a passion. There was a reason to hope. Something to hang on to. If I could just hold on long enough to get to California everything would get better.

I'd be closer to the magic city of Hollywood. A place where people thought and talked about the things I wanted to talk about. A place where they actually made records and movies and... My head exploded like a pumpkin being hit with a baseball bat. I had transferred myself into a dream world and clung to it like a starving animal. For the first time in a long time I felt as though there was really something to believe in. I understand looking back on it now how incredibly important it was for me to have something to dream of, live for, something to keep myself moving toward. I had to have a goal and I had found one. I knew for sure that if I could just get to California everything would be OK and I would get the chance to make my dreams come true.

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FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2007

(part 4) The Slowness Of Dreams

I had no idea how long it was gonna take to get out of Mesa AZ. I guess when you're in a hurry things that take a long time take even longer. My brother Bill had gotten out of Arizona state hospital, but was never the same. Once a powerful force in my life he now appeared to have been stripped of all dignity. He was timid and unsure of himself like a dog who'd been abused too much. It was the worst thing I remember about being a kid the day I watched through the wire mesh glass on the iron door at the state hospital. Two orderly's dressed in white hauled him away like a sack of potatoes from my view.

He was altered there, too many shock treatments. It was the old days of mental hospitals much worse then now. They didn't use much care in the application of electric shock therapy back then. They just wired you up and turned on the juice and bingo you were half a vegetable. I hated my mother for doing this to him I hated her for a long time. I just couldn't understand how you allowed that to happen to someone you loved. But over time I have learned that she was a victim as well of those times. She lived in the era when women barely had rights, hell they had to have a husband just to get credit and even then it wasn't their own. So over the years I have understood more clearly how that event troubled her as well.

Hoover High In Glendale, California

By 1962 I was enrolled as a junior at Herbert Hoover High School in Glendale California. The only persons I knew in Glendale, other than my family, was a girl I'd met and her brother who lived across the street from us. I was a fish out of water and knew it. The lingering southwestern cowboy environment I'd come from hung on like an ill fitting jacket. It was obvious to people as soon as I started talking. This became my training ground for reinventing myself lock, stock, and barrel. I learned to talk different, walk different, and look different than I had when I'd first arrived. I wanted to fit in and I was ashamed that I didn't. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to associate me with any redneck background so I dressed like a surfer.

You may be surprised to know that the first record I ever made was called "LET'S SURF" on Jolum Records in 1963. In my days at Hoover High the biggest thing going was surf music. like Dick Dale And The Deltones. Shortly thereafter it was The Beach Boys, Jan And Dean, and some Chubby Checker. Two years later I would be the opening act for all three of these artists. But in the meantime I had a lot of crap to go through.

Like every other teenager I thought I knew everything right then and there. I was just 17 years old and barely starting my life, but in my mind I had already been through the ringer. Family mental illness, failed marriages, and harsh surroundings had done their damage. Coupled with forced down your throat religion, multiple schools, towns, and fathers and I was kind of confused to say the least. Once again in my own mind music was the only thing that offered any hope to me of ever making my life any better than it had been in the past. It had been and still was the only thing I believed that I could do well.

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MONDAY, DECEMBER 17, 2007

(part 5) The Mystery Of Hollywood

I started drifting over to Hollywood in 1962. Whenever I got the chance I would go. I'd ride the bus over there from Glendale or if I got lucky hitch a ride with someone. It didn't matter how I got there just as long as I got there. The place in my mind, was the ultimate turn on. It was where all the magic happened. People who actually got paid to do stuff I'd do for free. I couldn't imagine how people like that lived so I wanted to find out. I just wanted to get the chance to meet someone like that and talk to them about how they got there and what it was like to live there. Everything I did and thought was geared to ending up in that town. I belonged there I thought, and nothing was going to keep me from being there.

Looking back on it now, I can see how the power of ones thinking can actually make things happen whether in the long run they're any good for you or not. To this day, I'm not sure I had any other choices, but the ones I made in the matter. It was more than a desire with me it was my obsession. Maybe if my life had of been better and our family wasn't so screwed up things could have gone in a different direction for me. But the way it was was the way it was, and I was just using the only thing I had at the time to solve my problem. I believed that I had the power and ability to end up where I saw myself in my own mind. I had a picture so clear in my head that nothing else could penetrate. No threat of any kind could or did sway me from my path once it got started.

I had seen where I was going back in Arizona and knew then what my path was to be. Time passed and here I was, standing on Hollywood Blvd. in total awe of my surroundings. I can also see looking back now how naive I was about the town, which I now know through my own experience, can be a snake pit. I guess when you're trying to blot out bad memories from earlier times anything looks better to you than the past, so it can fool you into thinking it's OK and safe. There was nothing safe about what I was doing at the time and I always had the feeling that if my mother knew where I was she'd be angry and try to stop me. I was 17 and roaming around the streets alone. I was a sucker for a complement and my judgement about people was piss poor. You could have sold me a bill of goods about anything.

Back in Glendale I'd go to school and pretend I was like everybody else, but inside I knew I was different. I think most of the kids knew I was different too. Even though I'd become pretty popular it was all a show to hide where I'd come from. I still had that feeling of being damaged goods from the past and it drove me to over compensate in everything I did. It was like if I could just keep moving no one would ever see who I really was. The guy with the mentally ill brother and the mother who couldn't stay married which in my mind meant I was screwed up too. I was always on. Like a performance every single minute of my life. Dancing and weaving trying to keep you off guard so you wouldn't get a good look at me. It was exhausting and sooner or later I'd crash and become deeply depressed and combative.

It was those episodes that separated me from others more than anything else. Whereas something that might have been a joke when I was in a good mood was now seen by me as a reason to go to war with someone. In that mood I was not afraid of anything and because of it I nurtured that part of myself for that very reason. I didn't like being afraid and when I was I was humiliated inside and wanted to escape. So that feeling of not being afraid, that came from depression and anger, was in my mind, a friend I could depend on.

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SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2007

(part 6) I Couldn't Have Done Any Better Or Any Worse

Even though the real story of Bobby Jameson/Chris Lucey is one big controversy from the beginning I continue to encounter an attitude of "Gee, why are you complaining you're kinda famous and people are rereleasing your records?" This particular take on my life is, at best, a staggeringly myopic view of what happened and what's happening now.

It appears that people want to know the story, but are afraid that I might say something negative about the record business and some people in and around it. This is an impossible straightjacket I'm being asked to wear should I attempt to be mindful of their fears.

The factual realities of the story run the gamut between incredible to tragic and are in fact impossible to relate without some, if not a lot of negative texture. I am 62 years old and I am trying to portray, in real terms, the true history of this person which just so happens to be me.

I am not trying to get into "People Magazine". Either your interest is in facts or fantasies. If it is a fantasy story about the 60's and only how wonderful it was then I suggest you find that somewhere else. The list of my dead friends and compatriots is too long for me to sell out now and attempt to please the god awful sensitivities some seem to demand.

Bobby Jameson/Chris Lucey Nov 7, 2007

Prior to the beginning of my story in 1964 I made a single record in 1963 in Hollywood. Below are both sides of that single on Jolum Records. Let's Surf/Please Little Girl Take This Lollipop. Elliot Engber is playing "Surf" guitar on "Let's Surf."

(part 6-a) I Couldn't Have Done Any Better Or Any Worse

The first time I ever used pills to perform was in 1964 when Tony Alamo was flying me around the country to do live gigs that he never paid me for. He used to tell me they were for promotion, but he was getting paid for what I was doing. We were promoting my record "I'm So Lonely/I Wanna Love You" on his record label TALAMO RECORDS.

From bobby jameson

I was exhausted and he had lined up another personal appearance for me to do in Cleveland or Detroit and I told him I was too damn tired. He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket and tapped a couple of light yellow tablets into my hand and said, "Take one of these now and save one for later."

This was to be my first experience with dexedrine. I went on stage and got a standing ovation. A drug addict was born! From that time on I began depending on drugs, booze, and pot to alter my condition. Pills to get up and booze and pot to get down, like a human yo-yo on a string, with Tony always providing the demand to work and the means for me to work it.

Later I wouldn't need anyone but myself to provide what ever I needed to stay high. My demand for the adoration of the crowd and to feel like I was finally important was all I needed to supply myself with anything and everything to keep it going. It was a dual sickness that fed on itself and just got progressively worse.

I'm sure that Tony Alamo, who is now a born again christian, will never admit to his part in the beginnings of my eventual demise, but I've come to know that the world is full of Tony Alamo's. I once spoke to Tony's brother and asked why Tony didn't pay me for what I had done, because Tony was now a millionaire. His bother said, "All that stuff happened in the past and was before Tony met the Lord."

What a load of crap! The only thing Tony met was Susan, and together they created one of the worst cults anyone has ever seen in America. Alamo did this in part with money he made off of me and "I'm So Lonely/I Wanna Love You" the part I never got paid for doing, and that is what I am going to write about here.

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MONDAY, DECEMBER 3, 2007

TONY ALAMO (part 7)

Tony and Susan Alamo a few years after I met Tony

I met Tony in Hollywood in 1964, probably at the "Carolina Pines" a local coffee shop hangout for struggling musicians, writers and actors. He was just another of the long list of "I'm gonna be somebody someday people, like myself, who scouted the streets, rumor mills, and hangouts for any info on the bizz. He owned a record mail order company called Mr. Maestro Records that sold boot legged oldies through the mail and I always figured that's how he got by.

I don't recall exactly when it started, but when I would see him he'd say things like "I'm gonna make you a star." I just figured he was mouthing off, but part of me wanted to believe this guy. I mean I was so hungry for fame I think I would have believed damn near anyone if they said anything good about me. That's part of the trouble with show business. People are in such need of being approved of that they trust others, who looking back at it now, shouldn't have been allowed to take out the trash.

Anyway, Tony pretty much had the magic touch when it came to bullshit so I began inching my way closer to him, the more candy he dropped in my ears. Again, looking back on it now I guess he was practicing for the Tony And Susan Alamo Christian Foundation which came about a couple of years later. When I knew Tony he was a pot smoking hustler from Hollywood via Montana. I was living in an apartment of his in Hollywood in 1964 when 2 Federal Postal Inspectors showed up at the door with guns drawn looking for him regarding an alleged mail fraud scheme concerning his record mail order business which he ran out of that address.

He must of worked it out, because it never came to anything while I knew him. It was just another example of how knowing him was like "What's next?" He used to keep plenty of pot around so me and a few friends Danny Whitten, Bruce Hines, Billy Talbot, and Ralph Molina could stay high and work on songs. In those days everybody smoked grass so we were just glad to have it. Hell it was free. Danny, Ralph, Billy, and Bruce were guys I'd met in Hollywood when I'd first gotten there and we started living together so everybody would have a place to stay.

We lived in an apartment on Franklin Ave. near Highland and used to talk about when we would "make it" a term relating to "making it in show business." Strangely enough Billy, Ralph, and Danny went on to become the band "Crazy Horse" and Bruce was their roadie. The three of them had come from Ohio and were a doo-wop vocal group called "Danny And The Memories" and they were damn good, I mean really good. And me, the scared kid from Arizona with a dream, I too went on to survive one of the strangest voyages anyone could ever imagine.

From the streets of Hollywood to London and back. From the nobody bottom to the nobody top and back again. I was still the human yo-yo on a string. Never sure of who I was, who I had been, or who I was becoming. From country to country and style to style I was Bobby Jameson the goddamned quick change artist always ready with another song, another look, and even another name.

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WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2007

(part 8) TONY ALAMO'S PLAN

Danny Whitten, Billy Talbot, Ralph Molina, Bruce Hines (Bruce Hines not pictured) and I were seated at a table in the "Carolina Pines" coffee shop one afternoon in 1964 when Tony Alamo approached us with copies of Billboard and Cashbox magazine in hand. He dropped them in front of us saying "take a look." Not knowing what he was referring to we began looking through both publications when we stumbled on black and white quarter page ads in both mags which stated "Bobby Jameson The World's Next Phenomenon".

These words were above a black silhouette of me. The ads were identical in both publications and purposely did not show my face. All of us pretty much lost it when we saw this and were at a total loss for words or any other response. Since all of us had pretty much decided Tony was just a lot of hot air we were forced at that moment to admit we had been wrong about him. We asked him how he had done it and frankly why since none of us had a clue that this was coming.

Tony glared at us and then looked directly at me and said "I told you I was going to make you a star." He owned me right then and there. I was his to to with as he saw fit at that point and he knew it. Tony was a master at getting to your weakest point and using it to endear himself to you. Once accomplished, he could pretty much get you to do anything he wanted and this is how Tony set me up to follow his every command. At that point he became the most important human being on earth to me, because he was actively making my dreams come true right in front of my very eyes.

I wanted to be a star and he was making it happen. He was God, or at least he had me believing it. The following week 2 more ads ran in Billboard and Cashbox except this time they were half page black and white ads. The words on them stated "Bobby Jameson The Star Of The Century" and again topped a black silhouette of me not showing my face. The noose around my neck tightened as once again I was mesmerized by my own addiction to seeing my name in print. Tony, ever the one to take full advantage of his own work, reminded me constantly that he and he alone would get me where I wanted to go and I didn't question that for an instant.

It was the most powerful addiction I have ever encountered, then until now. No drug, and I have used smack, pills, cocaine, and booze, has ever had any more control over me than that did at that point in my life.

2009-04-11T20:40:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2007

PART (9) WITH TONY ALAMO

For the next 6 weeks the ads kept coming out. I think it was the 3rd or 4th week when Tony dropped Cashbox and just kept the ads coming in Billboard. The 3rd week was a three quarter page ad. The 4th week a full page and so on. They went from black and white to three color and then to a full color four page pullout in the 8th week. No one had ever done this before so the whole world wide music industry was watching it. People were waiting to see how far it was going to go. Each week they'd check out Billboard to see if a new and bigger ad was in it and there was. It became kind of a game that everybody was playing.

I was blown away by the whole thing. You've got to understand that I was just some punk kid from nowhere that nobody had ever heard of and all of a sudden I was the subject of a lot of the industry. No one knew where the ads were coming from or who was doing this. People would speculate that it was a major label doing it from America as a response to Beatlemania which had taken over the US along with the rest of the world. The Beatles were the phenomenon so Tony named me "The World's Next Phenomenon". I had nothing to do with it. I just stood around trying to comprehend what was happening in and to my life.

In fact for quite awhile nobody knew that I was Bobby Jameson and when they found out they basically said "Well who the hell are you?" I didn't know how to respond so Tony responded for me. At first this was great, because he wouldn't let anyone screw with me, but later I found my own voice and trouble between Tony and I soon followed. We had no contract. To this day there is no contract. We had no record. I had to go in the studio (Nashville West) on Melrose Ave. in LA and cut one. We didn't even have muscians on most of the recordings. I wrote, arranged, played ,and sang everything. I basically produced 4 songs that are now the only 2 TALAMO RECORDS that exist.

"I'm So Lonely/I wanna Love You" and "Okey Fanokey Baby/ Meadow Green". There aren't any others, because I didn't have any other songs at the time. People think there are more secret Tony Alamo tapes of Bobby Jameson, there aren't. The 9th week Billboard ad was a black and white full page with my face shown for the first time. It also had the record listed "I'm So Lonely/I Wanna Love You" for the first time. There was no planning. Everything was done in a rush. The whole damn thing from beginning to finally having a record took 9 weeks. My whole life changed forever in 9 weeks. I went from dreaming it to being it.

I had no way of knowing what I was supposed to do next so I kept waiting for Tony to tell me and he told me. Do this, go here, go there, dress like this, act like that. Everything he told me to do I did, because I didn't know what else to do. He once looked at me and said "You are a star!, You need to be convinced that you are a star. Right now," he said, "you just want to be a star, but I'm telling you Bobby that you are already a star, now believe it and don't ever doubt it again." In the amount of time it took him to say those words to me was the amount of time it took me to accept them as the absolute truth. Bullshit or not, I was utterly changed forever by those words,"you are a star." Right,"I thought, "my name is Bobby Jameson and I am a star." I was forever doomed by that belief. Forever separated from others because of it. I have lived to regret it to this very day. Even now there is a part of me that still believes "My name is Bobby Jameson and I am a star." I am also alone.

2009-04-11T19:55:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 9, 2007

(part 10) ME, TONY, PETER, and GORDON

Peter Caine was a good guy. He was also a photographer who got hustled by Tony into taking most of the later photos for the Billboard ad campaign. Peter ended up being my only friend and helped me finally break away from Tony and go to England, but I'm getting ahead of myself. To this day there is still an unpaid bill at Billboard for most of the ads that were run. Somewhere between $13,000 and $14,000 I believe. You see Tony either couldn't or wouldn't pay for the ads. But what he did do was find someone else to guarantee to Billboard that the account would be paid for.

In this case that someone was Gordon Gessler the son of some wealthy diamond dealers in Beverly Hills. Gordon was kind of a goofy guy with a pretty good heart and Tony used him to accomplish Tony's goal which was to get the ads in Billboard. Tony succeeded as Tony was prone to do and then had a falling out with Gordon once the goal was accomplished. I am by no means blameless in all of this, because I ended up moving in with Gordon's soon to be ex wife Lois Johnston who was 29 and I was 19, wow was she hot. Part of the star game is beautiful women and I was sure I'd made it when I moved into Lois's house in Benedict Canyon.

As the ad campaign moved forward into it's climax my record "I'm So Lonely" began getting heavy airplay throughout the mid-west and Canada and started climbing the charts in places like Detroit and Cleveland, Ohio. There was a huge 50.000 watt station in Windsor, Canada called CKLW across from Detroit where a DJ named Terry Knight took it upon himself to single handedly break my record and make it a hit, which he succeeded in doing. CKLW was heard in a wide spread area of the mid-west and the record climbed into the top 5 and I believe made it to # 1 in a number of places. Whatever, the point of this is that now I was in demand so Tony could go to work on some more people, using the records success as leverage to bend them to his will.

First was Dick Clark at American Bandstand who Tony convinced to put me on the show. Following that a number of other more regional music shows became willing to put me on, because Bandstand had. Tony was no fool. He knew how to use one success to accomplish another. He did a lot of things right it was just that he always managed to do something that was so outlandish and make the earlier successes almost null and void. An example of this would be, I was out touring around the country and Tony sent me with some other people to Denver, Colorado and said we were booked into the Denver Hilton and that we were expected.

So all we had to do was go there and we'd be welcomed with open arms. All of this was true. We were greeted by the hotel manager and staff and taken to a suite of rooms. About five o-clock in the morning we were awakened by security and removed from the hotel for fraud. Here's what happened. Tony had telegraphed the Denver Hilton and told them we were coming and to treat us with care, because we were important friends of, Tony signed the telegram Conrad Hilton. Well when the manager of the hotel in Denver, who I believe was a Hilton himself, found out he had been bull-crapped by some Hollywood con man he was a little bit pissed off.

So when I say that Tony did a lot of things right, but always managed to screw it up this is what I was talking about. These kinds of off the wall scenarios continued throughout my time with Tony and I will discuss some of them throughout these writings. As you may well imagine I had a tough time trying to understand this man who on the one hand was making my dreams come true and on the other was scaring the crap out of me by doing things like The Denver Hilton fiasco. For a long time he was able to convince me that this stuff was just a mix up and not to let it bother me. My job, he said, "Was to concentrate on the music," and he would take care of the business.

All the while Tony was continuing to smoke pot and began having episodes where he'd say, "God was talking to him and telling him to except Jesus as his Lord or die." This too was bewildering to me, because it came out of nowhere and then would vanish as if it had never happened. Tony used to say, "it was just the pot talking and that he'd just gotten too high." The real trouble for me was that whether it was the pot talking or not I began to feel uneasy with Tony's explanations for why these things kept occurring. Looking back on it now I can see that these outbursts were the beginnings of Tony's eventual conversion into some dangerous cult like form of christianity.

I Wanna Love You/I'm So Loney Bobby Jameson 1964

2009-04-11T19:49:00.000-07:00

(part 11) "I'M SO LONELY/I WANNA LOVE YOU 1964

2009-04-11T19:37:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2007

(part 12) TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN

My record "I'm So Lonely" was a full blown hit in Cleveland and Detroit. So naturally Tony started booking me as the guest star at some big shows. I opened for The Beach Boys, Jan and Dean and Chubby Checker who at the time were all successful acts. I was never paid one penny for any of the live shows I did. Tony always told me they were just promotion and I was doing them for the exposure and to push record sales. Hell the record was in the top 5 all over the midwest why did I have to do free promotional gigs.

Of course looking back on it now I realize Tony was getting paid he just wasn't paying me. Once again I believed what Tony told me. I was 19 years old and this man had changed my life. It is far easier now to see the truth than it was back then. It was during this period of working hard that Tony first introduced me to dexedrine, which I have already mentioned. The point was to keep me going no matter what. Keep the train moving. Don't let a little thing like being exhausted get in the way.

I was flying around on airplanes and riding in limos. I barely knew what city I was in most of the time. The haze began to be my everyday life and the use of pills to get up and pot and booze to come down had become routine. Not only was I doing these live shows and not getting paid, butTony was booking me all over the country and parts of Europe with no intention of ever having me show up. He'd book me get the front money and that was that. I did not find out about this till sometime later.

One of the giveaways to this was when I was doing a live interview by telephone with a Cincinnati, Ohio radio station where people called in to talk to me. The trouble was that everybody was pissed off at me and finally I asked, "Why?" "Are you kidding me," the DJ asked, "No. Why are you people so mad at me?" The DJ said, "Because a couple of weeks ago the mayor of Cincinnati and 1100 kids waited at the airport for you in the rain with the key to the city and you never showed up."

It was like being slapped with a rope across the face. "I gotta tell you man," I said, "this is the first time I've even heard about it." there was silence for a moment at the other end of the line. "Are you telling us, because there's a lot of people listening to this show Bobby," he said, "Are you saying that right now is the first you've heard about this airport thing?" "Yes, that's what I'm saying. I didn't know anything about it or I would have been there, period. I feel awful, I don't know what else to tell you. I just wouldn't do that If I knew, I just wouldn't do that."

The interview ended and I could not believe what had just happened actually happened. What the hell was Tony doing? It was my name getting trashed, but it was Tony Alamo's plan. I began wondering how much of this was going on. If I didn't know about Cincinnati what else didn't I know? I begged Tony to get me a band to work with me on the road. I told him how hard it was just to go out on stage by myself and perform over and over again without backup. "They love you," he said, "You don't need a band. You're better when you're alone. A band would just take the focus off of you and you're the star. You don't need a band."

On and on it went. I could never get what I needed. I'd just show up and play until I started screwing up. That was a big deal! That was different! Tony had never seen me foul up while playing. It just hadn't happened, ever, until it happened. He changed his tune a bit. "Well maybe a band is not such a bad idea let me work on it." I never got a band. What Tony did was to start asking guys from other bands who were playing at the same shows to play with me. A lot of them were glad to do it and that's how it went. Tony always avoiding laying out money for anything. Always getting someone else to do the work and he collected the money.

In case the point hasn't been made enough let me be absolutely clear here. I was not paid one red cent for doing any of the things I have discussed here. "I'm So Lonely" sold a lot of records. I was told by the distributor in Detroit that the only record that he'd seen do better was Del Shannon's "Run Away". I am not saying "I'm So Lonely" was a mega hit, I'm saying it sold a lot of records. There were other people who did more shows than I did, but I imagine they were paid something at least I hope so. But I am still of the belief that Tony Alamo owes me money for what I did. Do I believe I will ever get it? No! I know Tony too well.

2009-04-11T19:33:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 15, 2007

(part 13) THE TALES OF TWO CITIES

I am doing my best to write factually about the events in the life of Bobby Jameson. There has been and continues to be enormous contradictions regarding what Tony Alamo has said about these events and what Bobby Jameson's (my) position is. There is widespread interest it appears from followers and ex-followers of Tony Alamo.

Some will not believe what is said here, because they won't ever believe anyone but Tony. Others will want to believe what is written here simply because anything that negatively portrays Tony Alamo fits into their way of thinking. I am not interested in either side's position. I have my own side to represent and it can only be represented honestly with facts known only to Bobby Jameson and Tony Alamo.

In the end there will be two different versions of the same events as described by the two individuals who were originally involved. While Tony has spent decades representing his version of these events it is only after 43 years that Bobby Jameson's side of this story comes to light.

Tony Alamo made millions of dollars with his brand of honesty and hurt countless human beings in the process. Bobby Jameson made nothing and has struggled for over 4 decades to make ends meet, while obtaining and maintaining 31 years of sobriety. It is only because of the internet's creation and growth that this opportunity to tell his (my) story became possible. Prior to the internet Bobby jameson was no more than an obscure fact of history.

2009-04-11T19:10:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2007

(part 14) TONY SENT ME I WENT

Toward the end of me being Tony's boy I was flown alone to a city I believe on the east coast. It could have been New Jersey or New york, but frankly I'm not sure. As much as I was moving around It could have been anywhere. The plane landed and I was met by a limo. The driver had been directed to take me to a lower middle class home in the suburban part of whatever city I was in. I had zero information about what was transpiring, but didn't think it was any different than what I'd been doing until we pulled up to a small house on a residential street.

There were a lot of people out in the street and on the sidewalks and in yards. The whole area was loaded with cops and a bunch of press. Flash bulbs were going off and police were trying to keep some kind of order as the crowd moved in on the limo. I asked the limo driver where the hell we were and what was going on, because this obviously was completely different than anything I'd expected. He could only say that he had been directed to pick me up at the airport and bring me to this address and that was all he knew.

At this point someone was tapping on the window and motioning for me to get out of the car. Without knowing what to expect I reluctantly did so. I was greeted by a number of very official looking people in suits who appeared to be very happy to see me which was somewhat of a relief. "Hi Bobby," came a voice from one of the greeters, "very glad to see you and thank you so much for coming. This will mean everything to the parents." Now I was really confused. What parents? What was this guy talking about? I was completely in the dark and tried unsuccessfully to obtain some info as to what the hell was going on.

"Bobby this is his honor the mayor," of wherever we were, "and he has been looking forward to meeting you personally." I reached out and shook his hand and could barely make out what he said to me. The crowd had begun to push it's way closer to us and I was keeping one eye on them and the other on all my new buddies. I'd been in crowds before that just all of a sudden got out of control, so I was none too comfortable being out in the middle of the street with these guys. A helicopter kept flying in circles above us making a hell of a lot of noise and this just added to my anxiety.

At last we made it to the house and in the front door where even more people were waiting. They were all trying to thank me at once for coming and I was just getting more and more uncomfortable and kind of angry, because no one was bothering to fill me in on any of what they all seemed to know about why I was there. Everybody was trying to touch me and shake my hand as I was escorted down the narrow hallway of this small house. We got to the doorway of a back bedroom and all of the noise around me suddenly grew quiet as I entered the room. Inside were more people and what appeared to be the parents of a sick boy who was lying on his back on a hospital bed in the very center of the room.

There was a priest and a couple of nuns or sisters holding what looked like rosary beads and they were all staring at me with a look that I find difficult to explain. Kind of like OK do something. I just stood there looking back at them not knowing what they wanted from me. I heard a voice begin to talk and it was the mother of the sick boy telling him that I was there in his bedroom. I looked over at the kid who had not moved a muscle since I'd arrived. The soft voice of his mother seemed to awaken him to the fact that I was in his room standing by his bed. He turned his head toward me and asked, "Are you Bobby Jameson?" "Yes," I said, "I'm Bobby Jameson."

All of a sudden out of nowhere this kid sits straight up in bed as if some invisible chord had yanked him upright. I was somewhat startled by this, because he had not moved at all since I'd arrived. His mother started speaking again telling him I was there to autograph his copy of "I'm So Lonely." God I thought! Why didn't someone just tell me that that was why I was here to autograph this sick kids record. For a moment I was relieved that I now knew what the big fuss had been about. But then the kid got even more animated and stood up on his bed and as he did there was kind of a gasp from those in the room.

He began jumping up and down on the bed yelling "Bobby Jameson's here, Bobby Jameson's here." I just stared at the kid jumping up and down not knowing what I should do at that moment and feeling extremely awkward and wanting to leave. Simultaneously the parents and a few others burst into tears and fell to their knees muttering words of thanks and I'm not really sure. I quickly signed the record and began my retreat to the door leaving them behind me and heard them still crying as I went. I did not stop or speak to anyone on my way out of that house. If they spoke to me I didn't hear them. I heard nothing. I was angry and confused that I had been brought there without being made aware of the circumstances.

I hit the street and again I spoke to no one. I saw the limo driver and motioned to him that I wanted in the car and out of this place now. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and opened the door to the limo which was still parked in the middle of the street. He drove me straight to the airport and on the way I learned from him the circumstances of the boy which he had learned from talking to people outside the house while waiting for me.

The kid was gravely iil and not expected to live and had not walked for 6 months until I showed up in his bedroom. I did not want to hear anymore and closed myself off to the world as we drove on to the airport. Before I knew it I was back on the airplane and was headed to, God I didn't know. I didn't know anything except that I was ready to tear Tony's head off for sending me there at all. Why in god's name did he send me there? And why didn't he tell me about the sick kid? What was he going to do next and how was I supposed to be ready for it whatever it was going to be? I didn't know the answer to that and it scared me. I had a terrible sense of uneasiness about Tony and I knew that I would not go on forever doing what he told me to do.

2009-04-11T19:02:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 18, 2007

(part 15) EACH TIME I HEAR THE NAME TONY ALAMO

There is no explanation for this story. There is no hidden meaning. It was just one more confusing day in my life with Tony. The reason I posted this is, because for 43 years I have not forgotten it. Like a mental tattoo it is just there in my mind brought to life each time I hear the name Tony Alamo. I still do not know why he sent me there.

I was promoting a record and then out of nowhere this turned up. It is of primary importance to me in that it preceded the eventual collapse of my relationship with Tony Alamo. This episode signaled to me in the deepest way possible that Tony was thinking in completely different terms than I was. He now appeared to be using me for some other purpose of his which I could only guess about, based on what I knew.

The ill child and my unwitting part in it caught me completely off guard and placed me in a no win battle with myself. What did it mean? I didn't and still don't know, but I know it meant something to Tony. It caused me to change in some final way my entire view of what I was doing with him. I began questioning deeply whether I should continue to do anything with this man who had single handedly put me in the life I was living.

This kind of cross purposes split me in half and left me with two completely different options to choose from. A crossroad! What was I going to do? How at 19 years old was I supposed to figure this damn mess out. Part of me still needed Tony and part of me was sure I had to get away from him before more weird things occurred. I knew for sure that Tony had been on some sort of God trip, but now I had to consider what that really meant.

I had been kind of ignoring it as best I could hoping that it was just some trip he got on when he smoked pot. But in light of the kid in the bedroom incident I began looking closer a lot closer at Tony's ranting about God. There had been spooky overtones about religion in that house and I had felt like a captured rat in that room with the priest and people falling to their knees. Hell I could have easily just assumed that the kid was excited to see me and was jumping up and down on an adrenaline rush. But those people seemed to take it to the next level whatever that was. They appeared to me to be assigning some greater meaning to it all. Anyway, that's why I pretty much just ran out of the place and didn't talk to anyone. I did not want to discuss what had happened. I was 19. I was a damn pop star not anything else. I was still that kid from nowhere who wanted to be famous.

2009-04-11T17:37:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2007

(part 16) THE TIDE TURNED

After the sick kid incident I rebelled against anymore of Tony's I'm in charge of everything without question. I began to openly disagree with Tony's ideas regarding my future. For example. I refused to let him book me into shows unless I got a band which I never did. I flat out refused to go and told him if he booked me I wouldn't show up. I brought up the long list of odd things he had done and confronted him for the first time. I had changed since he first met me from the hungry little kid to a more seasoned performer who'd been out on the road a bit and had learned a few things.

I asserted myself and my position and Tony didn't like it. The fear of being disapproved of by Tony which had always been the case, began to crumble in the wake of my new found willingness to stand my own ground and claim my own selfhood. Tony's iron clad power over me had shifted to a we better work together or else. Or else what? Therein was the dilemma. Tony's position had always been, "I made Bobby Jameson." He believed, or at least he claimed to believe that without him I never would have gotten off the ground and in large part that's true. But then I became me and when that happened I reclaimed myself from Tony.

My new position had become, "yeah you probably did make me Tony, but now that it's happened I am not the same willing little kid you could control with promises like before." It was a Mexican standoff and Tony knew it. Hell there was no way he could force me to do anything. It wasn't like he could refuse to pay me if I didn't go, because he wasn't paying me anyway. Everything he could have used for leverage didn't exist. You can't take away something if you never provided it in the first place. Tony had played himself into a corner with his own greed and lack of real fairness. So when it came time to use his chits he didn't have any and I damn well knew it.

(If you are reading this and have no real sense of a timeline, let me clarify briefly. Most of what I have discussed here only took about 6 months to occur. The beginning middle and eventual end to Tony and me was like a ride on a rocket ship in that it started and my life was forever changed in 9 weeks and then for 4 or 5 more months to a bizarre conclusion. Everything that occurred between us went extremely fast. No real plan at all. No time to consider anything before it was done. So in essence mistakes were common place.)

As I was saying, Tony was completely aware that the power he had had over me was now different. He could not command me like a dog any more without fear of getting bitten. He looked for new ways to gain control and one of them was a live performance in Los Angeles which I had never done other than American Bandstand and a few other local television music shows like Ninth Street West and Lloyd Thaxton. I knew that I would be performing by myself again, but Tony convinced me it was the last time I'd have to do it so I agreed.

He booked the old Ciro's night club on the Sunset Strip and put up a 35 foot black silhouette of me on the roof which said, "Bobby Jameson Here! One Day Only." I don't know how many people Ciro's (now the comedy store) holds, but it was full on the day I played there. It was invitation only and I did my job well. I played by myself for those people with my guitar and amplifier and a microphone. No band just me and I was good. That was the last time I ever went on stage alone again. It seemed to be a moment in time that just got stuck and hasn't moved since that day.

After I played I vaguely remember talking to people. I couldn't tell you who was there, but I remember leaving pretty quickly afterwards. I knew Tony would be making use of my work and make promises to people about my availability to perform somewhere. I knew he would get money in front from some of them and I knew too that he never intended for me to show up. He just made money by promising things, but the promises were only used to get the money. It was a quirk I discovered about him. He could have made so much more if he had done it right, but he seemed doomed to an addiction of always pulling something off on people. Like that was the point, when in fact that was the smallness of Tony.

He had big powerful ideas, but he always went for the chicken shit payoff. He had been offered a deal by just about every major record company there was for me, but he wouldn't take it. He wanted to be Col. Tom Parker who represented Elvis Presley. He wanted to be a big shot. The tragedy was that he damn near made it, but figured out a way to screw it up at the last minute. That was and I would guess still is Tony Alamo. It is easy for me to see this in Tony, because I have seen it in myself. Always getting so close to the dream coming true and then at the last minute doing something insane or just plain stupid to screw it up always with the tag they or he or something made me fail. This is classic alcoholic thinking I know because I am an alcoholic and I believe that Tony Alamo is too.

2009-04-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2007

(part 17) IF YOU'RE SURE YOU SEE, YOU CAN'T SEE
(For the followers and ex-followers of Tony Alamo)

It would be wise to understand if you are a reader of this, to read only the words I am writing and try to grasp the simple meaning. I have waited 43 years to relay this story which altered my life forever and was a central cause in my radical behavior that followed my split from Tony Alamo.

I by no means am the only one who suffered from things done by Tony, but this is my story and the followers of the Alamo's did not materialize till well after these occurrences. It is too easy to read into this what you want to believe. I am going to great lengths to accurately lay out what transpired. I make no other claims than the ones I write.

There will be no hidden intentions to imply anything not stated clearly by me as I write this. There will be things that I say which will be difficult at best to grasp without supposing that something has been implied by the mere reporting of my recollections.

I realize there is great interest, by some, in the office meeting spoken of in the past by Tony Alamo. I have already said that there were only 3 people in that office. Tony, me, and an investor. There was no press, no movie stars, no nothing other than the three of us. My version of this precise moment in time will be so far removed from what has been stated by Tony that once you read it you might not be so glad to have to try and explain it to yourselves and each other.

Try and remember that I had to live with this moment which was not easy from then until now. It was the day that changed my life forever and caused me to reject outright anything and everything that came out of Tony Alamo's mouth from that day until now. What I did after that day probably only occurred, because of that day. I have been left to wonder for over 40 years what might of happened to me if that day had never happened.

2009-04-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2007

(part 18) THE OFFICE, THE MEETING, THE END

Tony's position was always "Let me do the dirty work and the business." He kept me away from everything by playing to my one true weakness, which was, "you are the star. You are untouchable. I'll deal with these people, because I know how they think and what they want." I pretty much went along with that, believing I was a star. He never told me anything about what he was doing when I wasn't around and I was too inexperienced at the time to demand that kind of cooperation from him. It was Tony and me for sure, but with Tony always taking the lead when it came to deals and money. But the day came, when one of Tony's deals required my willing participation with him to accomplish it.

Tony set up a meeting in Beverly Hills with an investor and he told me I had to go with him and meet the guy. I agreed to go not suspecting that my entire world would be turned upside down by the end of that particular day. Prior to the actual meeting I have no recollection of how I even got there. I don't remember whether I went with Tony or met him there. I recall vividly being with Tony as we entered the building where the meeting took place. It was on a corner, south of Wilshire Blvd., but I don't recall the exact streets. No one was with us when we went into the office and no one, but the person we were meeting was there when we met.

The three of us were the only ones in the meeting. The man was kind of short, a little overweight, and balding. He was friendly and smoking a cigar. He appeared to be jewish, and I don't mean this in a belittling way, he just appeared to be a jewish guy from Beverly Hills pretty typical. His office was pleasant but not lavish. It was one large room, maybe 40 by 25 feet. At the far end of the room was a desk and chair where the man sat down and faced us. I don't remember if the Billboard ads were up on the wall, but it's possible.

I stayed at the opposite end of the room and sat in a chair a few feet from where we came in. I didn't know what to do so I just sat there trying to look like a star. Tony stood in the middle of the room between the man's desk and my chair. I don't recall what was said, because Tony and the guy were talking back and forth for a while. During this exchange Tony took a particular stance in the middle of the room which is hard to explain without sounding like I'm joking, which I'm not, but it kind of looked like a bad impersonation of Elvis Presley.

Tony stretched out one arm and pointed at me and uttered out loud "That is Jesus Christ and if you, now pointing his other arm and finger at the guy do not give him $50,000 he will point his finger at you and you will die!" I looked over at the man just in time to see that his face looked frozen. His jaw fell open and his cigar just kind of rolled out of his mouth onto his desk. Other than that he didn't move a muscle, but stared at Tony in disbelief who was still standing with his arms stretched out in the middle of the room. I could not believe what was happening. I had no way of knowing this was coming and had no way of dealing with it now that it was there.

I remember staring at the floor trying to decide what to do. I just stood up, didn't say anything and walked out the door as fast as I could. I reached the sidewalk and kind of walked around in little circles hoping that Tony would come out and tell me it was all a joke and that everything was OK. In a few minutes Tony did come out the door and down the steps toward me. "Why did you say that Tony," I pleaded, and stood waiting for some rational explanation to what I had just witnessed. "Because it's the truth," he said, looking right at me. I stared at him in a second wave of disbelief and was devastated by his response, knowing fully at that moment my world had just ended, "No it isn't Tony, no it isn't."

2009-04-11T17:09:00.000-07:00

MONDAY, DECEMBER 24, 2007

(part 19) NOW WHAT DO I DO?

From bobby jameson

Andrew Oldham

I'd already received a letter from Andrew Loog Oldham in England who was the producer of The Rolling Stones at that time in 1964, but I hadn't responded to it until after the last incident with Alamo. I'd grown wary of Tony over time, but now I was afraid of him. I thought he'd completely flipped out after what he'd said in the office and to me afterwards on the sidewalk outside. As I mentioned earlier, Peter Caine was the photographer on most of the later pictures used in Billboard. He had also become my close personal friend and I relied on him heavily, once I knew I had to get away from Tony.

The letter from England was an offer by Oldham of sorts that basically stated "If you ever get to London I'd be interested in working with you." My previous disregard to his invitation now looked like my chance to leave America and get as far away from Tony as I could. I believed and still do, that had I stayed, Tony would have tried and possibly succeeded in conning me into believing everything could be worked out and we could go on. I didn't want to stick around and find out so I implored Peter to find someway to get me to England.

I had no idea what to expect from Tony once he knew I wasn't going to talk to him. I avoided all contact with him and kept a constant eye out for him. I new Tony believed his golden egg was being stolen from him and he wasn't about to let that happen. His position was that I was his property, because he had made me into something of value, but after the office trip I was convinced that he was capable of just about anything. I had no money, but I was still living with Lois, the ex wife of Gordon Gessler, the guy Tony had conned into backing the Billboard campaign.

My life was like a hurricane and the only way to live in it was in the calm of the eye of the storm. Everything outside of that was madness. This meant that all my energy was directed at one goal. Get out of here, before something really bad happens. Tony had no contract with me another flaw in his thinking so he couldn't legally force me to do anything. This is why I was able to walk away from him in 1964 and there wasn't anything he could do about it. He had never paid me as I've stated so I wasn't suddenly going to be without money hell I never had any to begin with, again another flaw in the character of Tony Alamo.No leverage! He always managed to chase people away without having some sort of leverage to get them back.

As the weeks went by I kept hearing things about how Tony was not going to let people steal me away from him now that I was the star he'd made. The constant reports of these kinds of things just kept me on edge and I in return put pressure on everyone around me to get me the hell out of L A and away from this crazy bastard.

2009-04-11T16:56:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 27, 2007

(part 20) LONDON, A TOWN WITHOUT TONY

Peter Caine finally came up with a guy named Lee Karsian who worked at Ashley Famous Artists. Lee was extremely interested in becoming involved and had contacts in London who he notified about the Andrew Loog Oldham offer. Once the people in London were satisfied the letter I had received was indeed legitimate they agreed to finance me coming to London. They arranged pretty much everything and I assume, because I have never known that they were in for some sort of a piece of the action believing it was a sure fire arrangement with a substantial benefit for them in the long run.

Once again, no one ever brought me a contract to sign or told me any of the details of the arrangement to get me to England. Honestly I never asked, because I just wanted away from Tony Alamo. It wasn't important to me at the time how I got there it was that I got out of California and as far from Tony as I could. That's why I went to England. Most people thought, and I guess still think, that it was a big opportunity for me to go there and record with Mick Jagger. But what they don't know, is that by me going to England at that time I killed my career in America.

My record "I'm So Lonely" was left to die when I vanished and I do mean vanished. No one knew where I went except the small number of people who were involved with getting me there. It wasn't until I released a record in England that anyone really knew what had happened to me possibly no one cared one way or another except for Tony. Peter Caine, Lee Karsian, and I borded a Plane at LAX and my life changed again. It was still the year 1964 and I had already gone from no one to someone and now I was on my way to England to do something I had never intended to do. It would have been one thing to go there, because my record was doing well, but that was not the case. I was basically starting from scratch in a foreign country and had no idea of what to expect when I got there.

I barely knew Lee and Peter kept assuring me that it would all be OK when I got to London and met Andrew Oldham. I remember it took a long time to fly to England a lot longer than I'd imagined. It was the middle of the night and I stared out the window at the lights on the wing and listened to the engines hum out over the Atlantic Ocean. It was an eery feeling being up there at 19 wondering how it was going to turn out. I thought about Tony and all that we had done together and wished he hadn't screwed it all up. I felt kind of scared and alone, but I was glad that Peter was with me, because I knew he wasn't going to let anything get out of hand along as he was there to keep an eye on things. He and Lee seemed to hit it off from the start and that made things run pretty smooth.

We started the landing approach and I gazed out the window at the yellow lights all over. Lee said that they used yellow lights, because of the fog in London and I said, "Oh yeah, the London fog. I remember that. They gotta lot of fog in England." I was like a tourist making comments. We were met at the airport by some people and there were no crowds and no cameras. Just a few of Lee's associates and a driver who took us in to Knightsbridge I believe and dumped us at what I remember as being an Inn or Bed And Breakfast kind of a place. It was dark, damp, and cold and everything looked old and tired. I wasn't too sure what I'd gotten myself into, but it was a long way from California and Tony Alamo and that made it tolerable.

The next day was like coming to, after a bad drunk. All that time on the airplane and the times were all changed around so I started off confused and stayed that way for quite a while. I knew I was going to meet Andrew Oldham and I didn't feel to good. The jet lag and different surrounding played havoc with my brain, but I used what I'd learned on the road and just moved forward through the day. Peter and Lee weren't doing that much better and I think that helped, because we started joking about how screwed up we all were and got a good laugh out of it.

2009-04-11T16:39:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2007

(part 21) LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING ?

Andrew Oldham

The day was grey and drizzling. I remember it being like that most of the time I was in England, just cold and damp. For a kid from Southern California and Arizona it was a big change and it colored everything I did there whether I knew it or not at the time. Peter, Lee and I ventured out into London in one of those famous black cabs that forever roam the streets there. We did a little sight seeing and tried our hand at English food which was a shock in itself. I finally learned about Whimpy Burgers, but not soon enough.

This was not like the US where you could always find some place that had something you liked. It was a whole new ball game and most of the time a poor experience. I don't remember exactly where we were when it happened maybe Picadilly Circus or something, but a brand new 1964 Chevrolet pulled up and everybody on the street stopped to stare at it. They were gawking at it like it was the rarest thing they'd ever seen. While they stared at the car we stared at them.

It seemed to me that who ever was driving just parked it damn near in the middle of the street and got out. He was a young guy maybe early 20's when all of a sudden I heard. "Bobby, Bobby Jameson is that you Mate?" I figured out quickly it was Andrew Oldham. "Yeah it's me you must be Andrew." I said, "what an accent," he replied. That was something I had to get used to. Every where I went people would comment on my accent which was really strange at first. "I didn't have an accent they did," I thought.

"Ok, well let's get you out of the road so we can get properly acquainted," said Andrew. We all piled in the Chevy and he headed out into to traffic. Everything was going the wrong way and it was just something else to get used to. "Where'd you get this Chevrolet Andrew?" I asked, "I'd of thought you'd be driving a Rolls Royce or something?" He said he used to have a British sedan, but then he got the Chevy and it was like nothing he'd ever imagined. "People go wild," he said, "Everywhere I go." Man did he like that car. I watched out the window at London zipping by while Peter and Lee talked to Andrew about the schedule and what to expect in the next few days.

I was tired from the long flight and my sense of direction was nonexistent. I couldn't figure out where we were or where we were going. It always seemed like we were moving in circles. Andrew dropped us off at our hotel after an hour or so and we watched as the Chevy Belair drove out of sight. "Man he likes that car," we all said. and laughed as we went inside. Andrew was a tall lanky guy with longish curly hair and glasses. He looked like kind of a geek, but handled himself well and had an air of self assuredness about him that made you think he was on top of things.

From bobby jameson

He didn't hesitate when he spoke and had no shortage of opinions about everything. After the first meeting we all pretty much decided we liked him from what we had seen and we began to look forward to the coming events and meeting Mick Jagger. The jet lag was killing everyone so we thought we'd try and go to bed early and get ready for the next day. The trouble with that kind of jet lag is you're tired as hell, but your body won't go to sleep. This ended up in the long run as a major problem for me.

2009-04-11T16:22:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 2, 2008

(part 22) SHRIMPTON, JAMESON, AND JAGGER.

Jagger and Shrimpton

Meeting Mick Jagger was the agenda for the day. I was still wiped out by jet lag, but I pushed it aside as we rode the London taxi to our destination. It looked like an old warehouse when we got there, but then everything in England was old looking to me. I was used to California where something new popped up every day so London was an experience everywhere I went. Lee paid the cab and we found a doorway that appeared to be the way in as had been the instructions we were given for finding the place.

Peter, Lee and I walked inside and started guessing at how we were supposed to find anyone and finally reached a point in a hall that was blocked off by a metal fence of sorts with a gate or door for entering. Seated at a small wooden table on a chair was a very attractive girl with a notebook and a pencil, I guess taking names of visitors. It was Chrissy Shrimpton, Jaggers girl friend. She was the first one to greet us. "Hi," I said, "I'm Bob," "Bobby Jameson from America," she said, looking right at me. "We've been expecting you. My name is Chrissy." "Ah, well yeah, hello! This is Peter Caine and Lee Karsian and they came with me to England and." I felt like such a jerk.

I was mumbling and stumbling like some kind of dork. "Andrew's in the studio finishing up something, but he shouldn't be long. Would you like some tea or coffee?" she asked. We all gladly excepted are preferences. After she left we all looked at each other and Peter said, "God is she good looking." "Yeah," I said, "I think she's Jagger's girl friend. She's really pretty." I lit up a cigarette and dragged on it trying to look calm, but inside my nerves were on edge and the anticipation of what was coming next was beating my head in.

After a few minutes Shrimpton returned with a couple of cups and left to retrieve more. When she came back the second time Mick was with her. I stared at him for a moment trying to make sure it was him and just blurted out, "Hi Mick!" I reached my hand out and started walking toward him to shake his hand. Peter and Lee straightened up as if to appear at attention as Mick and I shook hands. Strangely enough he was really low key and kind of bashful it seemed. It surprised me, because the only picture I had in my head of him was The Rolling Stones playing "NOT FADE AWAY" with Micks vocal. So a low key Mick Jagger in person was pretty different than what I had expected.

After I introduced Peter and Lee Mick and I kind of moved off to the side to size one another up. After asking about our flight Mick moved directly to the subject of America where he'd never been with The Stones. He wanted to know as much as I could tell him in the short amount of time we would have to talk together. He asked about The Beatles and said, "They're really huge over there aren't they?" "Yeah," I said, "but you guys are just about as big." Then the strangest thing happened. Mick said, "No way man, no way." I said, "No, really Mick The Stones are just about as big there as The Beatles are."

He just stared at me as if he were trying to figure out whether I was bullshitting him or not. "You're having me on mate," he said smiling, "you're just having me on." I figured it was and English version of "you're putting me on." "No, I'm not," I insisted, "I'm telling you the truth." He now seemed to know I was telling him what I really believed. "Look," I said, "When I was in Cleveland, that's a big city in the US." I didn't know if he knew that or not, "they were running a contest on the biggest radio station there to see who was more popular The Rolling Stones or The Beatles and it was pretty much of a tie," I told him, "You guys are really big in America. Like it's The Beatles and you guys."

He just stared at me. He just seemed to be waiting for the punch line that never came. He could not believe what I was telling him, but then again he couldn't not believe it. I'll never forget how surprised I was to find out that day that he really didn't know at that time how incredibly huge The Rolling Stones were in America. The look on his face when I first told him will stay with me forever.

2009-04-11T16:07:00.001-07:00

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 2, 2008

(part 23) ME, MICK, AND ANDREW IN THE STUDIO

After sometime everybody ended up in the studio with Andrew. I had not heard anything up until then about what he wanted to work on with me and it was a burning question in my mind. For a couple of months, before ever coming to England I'd wondered about what we would do and now was the time! I was about to be told what Andrew's ideas were and what my part in it would be. He said he was going to play me a track that he'd already recorded called "All I Want Is My Baby".

He signaled the engineer to roll the tape and I listened intently to what came out of the speakers. It sounded a bit like a Phil Spector track, but not as well organized. In the middle of the song was a guitar solo on fuzz tone that at that time was pretty off the wall. You gotta remember this was before Jimmy Hendrix and the feed back guitars of a year or so later. I liked the guitar thing, but the song didn't sound like anything remotely close to what I did. The tape came to an end and Andrew and Mick looked at me in anticipation of my reaction.

"Well whatta you think Bobby, is that fucking great or what man?" asked Andrew. I was stuck. I didn't want to say the wrong thing, but I didn't want to be forced to lie about my opinion either. "Yeah, well that's pretty cool Andrew and I really like that guitar part, but I don't know if it's my kind of song I mean something that I'd do." There was an uncomfortable moment. "Well let me play it again and show you how the vocals supposed to go so you can get a better idea of what I want." said Andrew. "Ok." I said reluctantly. I felt the world shifting again and I didn't know what to do except go along with him. I eyed Peter and Lee to look for support, but they seemed unaware of my growing discomfort with the song.

Andrew again signaled for the tape to roll and the song boomed out again through the studio. Andrew had the lyrics and started singing them for me and Mick was filling in with back up chorus stuff. It was quite a spectacle. I tried hard to concentrate on what Andrew wanted and eyed the lyric sheet trying to sing what he was singing. I felt like shit inside and that old "I don't want to do this" part of me was kicking my ass. I just kept baring down on the work in front of me trying to latch on to the feel of the song, but it was no good.

I waved at Andrew to stop the tape so I could talk to him and the studio went quiet. "What's wrong Bobby?" he asked, "Look Andrew," I said, "I don't think this is my kinda song. Can't I play you a couple of things I wrote so you can get an idea of how I sing?" He looked at me and said, "No. I'm not interested in hearing your songs right now. I need you to concentrate on this song and get the vocal right, because I know you can." He'd said no and challenged me at the same time. He was trying to get me to go along with him so I said, "Ok play it again." The song played over and over and over. It got better, but I never thought it was much good. My vocals were just disconnected. I was jet lagged and miserable. I was ready to walk out, but stayed.

Andrew suggested cutting my vocal with the track so I could get a better idea of what it sounded like by hearing it. I agreed and we pushed on. At one point Mick and Andrew teamed up on background vocals as I sang the lead. After hours of working Andrew finally said that was enough. What a relief I thought, I felt exhausted. Andrew seemed pleased about what we had done, but I was not. We had also worked on the b side for a while just to change the pace. The song was Mick's and was called "Each And Every Day" and was easier to learn and sing than "All I Want Is My Baby" which Keith Richards had written.

As we gathered our stuff together I shook everybody's hand and told Andrew that I was starting to get it and with a little more work we could probably record it. He smiled and agreed and I felt somewhat better as Peter, Lee, and I departed. I don't remember if I ever talked to Andrew again after that day, but the rough track I was told was just for rehearsal was released on Decca records, as is, with a whole crap load of publicity and there was nothing I could do about it.

2009-04-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 2008

(part 24) WHY I TELL MY STORY AT ALL

Had it not been for the internet I would have remained little more than a blip in the history of rock n roll. But because the internet allows every conceivable fact and thought to be captured, saved, and reborn on the web I was swept out of my corner and reissued into the current world.

No one has ever gotten the story straight so I have taken it upon myself to carefully and methodically go through specific highlights from the (my) past and put them in order. I grew weary of reading the bullshit passed off as fact by so called music history experts. From what I can tell most of these people print rumor as a fact, because that's easier than getting the facts. I have contacted numerous sources who publish this crap and made myself available to them, but they have chosen to ignore me.

When written material that us inaccurate, will not be changed, because someone can't or won't admit they're wrong I would say that same material and those who write and publish it is just plain bogus. If someone gains a reputation for historical content, about music business history and it is found to be completely inaccurate I would have to say that their reputation is as false as the facts they have written. I don't particularly care if you like what I am saying, because I am not saying it to get you to like me.

I am telling my story, because it is my story. I have waited 43 years to set the record straight and if some toes get stepped on then so be it. My whole life was altered repeatedly by the events that I am relaying here. As a reader you have the right to decide whether you believe what I say or not. I have no control over the opinions of others. What I have here is an opportunity to give you my version of the facts as I remember them and frankly relive them as I tell my story. I am by no means a special case regarding the misrepresentations of these so called historians. I am just one of many whom I hope will likewise take time to set the record straight.

BOBBY JAMESON (aka) CHRIS LUCEY Jan 5 2008

2009-04-11T15:42:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 9, 2008

(part 25) "THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS"

The record came out "All I Want Is My Baby/Each And Every Day" preceded by a lot of promotion. I'll give Andrew Oldham and Decca UK their due they pumped the record hard, but that made it worse for me personally, because I had no faith in it. I felt like "Oh no! You're not goin' to put that out are you?" When I was doing "I'm So Lonely" at least I believed in the record, but this was entirely different. All of a sudden I was doing interview after interview and I didn't even like the record. I was torn between the hype and the fear that it would bomb which it did. I kept trying to get to see Andrew, but it was no use he was not talking to me.

I started making up things about myself to deflect the interest in me, but it just seemed to make things worse. I took to wearing one "black glove" as a goof and it got famous. I did a story with a London news paper on "the Glove" which it became known as and people took it seriously. Somewhere in this time frame I was lucky enough to meet with Brian Jones of The Stones and we liked each other right off. He came by my place one afternoon and we talked about a lot of things. Brian was an intelligent and extremely sensitive person who was not at all taken by his fame. He had a passion for animals which he conveyed to me while we smoked some hash. We just spent that day hanging out for the most part.

A year later by some quirk of the universe, Brian's picture ended up as the cover photo for the Chris lucey album "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest" which I wrote and recorded when I went back to America in 1965. I never spoke to Brian again, but I always remembered the day we spent together and consider myself lucky to have had that time with him. It is those kinds of moments from the past that I will hold on to for the rest of my life. They are the things that made it all worthwhile in the long run.

As the publicity increased I was introduced to a very popular club in London called "The Ad lib Club" where everyone who was anyone went at night. It was the "In Place" in 1964 and I was like the "American Pop Prop" along with P J Proby so it was easy to mingle with just about everyone. I used to sit at these little tables that lined the walls of the place and drink Matuse wine with the Beatles. Every time John Lennon saw me he'd say, "Eh, here comes The Glove. Hey Jameson whot's wrong with yer hand mon, do ya ave a diseese aye?" I think he got a big kick outta doing that, because he did it a lot. It was a real trip sitting there with The Beatles at 19 years old, because I'd always been a huge Beatles fan. So now here I was in London sitting right there with them and having John make jokes about my glove.

I was getting the star treatment alright, but underneath the outward appearances I was just plain worried about having to go on British television and lip sync the record. In my gut I knew it was gonna be bad, but when it actually happened it was worse. I tried everything I could think of to get those people to reconsider what they were doing. I told them, "Let's do the other side. "Each And Every Day" it's a better record." "No, we are not going to do that it's gonna be fine blah, blah, blah." It was not fine. It was a disaster. Have you ever been around people when they've convinced themselves of something even though they're wrong? Well that's the way this was. For whatever reason, and to this day I still don't know why, everybody was just locked into Andrew's track record and believed if Andrew said it was good, it was good.

The day finally came and I told Peter that I hated the goddamn song and wished that I'd never heard it or recorded it. Even he was trying to tell me it would be alright and I remember trying to believe it myself at that point. I mean what the hell was I supposed to do? I was gonna be mouthing this thing on live TV whether I wanted to or not so I tried to get with the program and give it my best shot. The trouble with a pre recorded dud is that it's still a dud even if you give it your best shot. I remember the announcer on "Thank Your Lucky Stars" or "Ready Steady Go" saying, "And our next guest, all the way from America is Bobby Jameson singing his hit record "All I Want Is My Baby."

As the music started I was directed by someone to move out on the floor into camera range and walk slowly through the set they had, while lip syncing the record. Good Luck! I had no idea which way they wanted me to go so I kept looking at the guy who was directing me and forgetting the words of the song while I watched him. I still didn't have the song down so I didn't remember where to come in at when it was time. I just kept screwing it up and knew it as it was happening. I had never been in that position before. I always knew where the song was, but not this time, this wasn't my song and it wasn't me. It was forced and I could hear it as I tried desperately to find my place. I sleep walked my way through the rest of the song and felt humiliated way down deep inside. I don't recall anything after that. Not leaving or speaking to anyone, it is just a total blank.

2009-04-11T15:26:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, JANUARY 15, 2008

(part 26) SO NOW WHAT DO I DO?

After the "Thank your lucky stars" debacle I felt like hiding underground forever, but the the publicity raged on anyway and I couldn't believe they were still promoting the record after what I had done on TV. I wasn't able to get Andrew to talk to me and I could only assume the worst. He had no plans to talk with me, ever. I complained to Lee and Peter, but they were unsuccessful at getting any response from Oldham. It began to become apparent that Andrew had done a one shot deal with his Bobby Jameson project and if "All I Want Is My Baby" wasn't a hit, which it wasn't, he was not planning to do a follow up.

The investor friends of Lee Karsian, the people who paid for me to come to England, began questioning Lee about the Oldham deal and any further plans regarding the next record. From what I could gather, because again I wasn't in on the original deal Lee and his partners made with Andrew to get me to England, Lee had simply trusted Andrew and there was no contract, or it was limited to a single release. I still don't know. So much for trusting the adults. In both the case of Tony Alamo and Andrew Oldham there were no contracts that I have ever seen or heard about.

It seems that people were just taking shots and releasing a record and seeing how it went. In the case of "I'm So Lonely" it did pretty well, but in the case of "All I Want Is My Baby" it did not. Tony and I could have continued, but he had flipped out as far as I could tell. Andrew on the other hand appears not to have had any follow up in mind unless my record was a hit, which over time it proved not to be. Although I had been treated pretty well since I'd come to England and lived in a extremely nice flat and was treated like a star things began to unravel over the next couple of months. the mood changed.

Lee had obviously pissed off his London contacts when they learned there was no real agreement to continue forward with Andrew Oldham and Decca Records and I was just someone who had cost them a lot of money and didn't pay off as they had believed I would. I was now just dead weight to them. A bad investment. Lee Karsian bailed out and went back to America, saying he had to leave because of pressing business in the states. I have never spoken to him since that day. I was notified that I still had the use of the flat, because of a lease, but that it would not last forever. As if things weren't going bad enough, Peter's girlfriend Susi came over to London with Lois Johnston out of the blue.

It seems as though Susi had come to London to tell Peter that he could either stay in England forever with me or go back to America with her it was one or the other Peter told me. He said he had no choice but to go back with her and within a week or so they were gone. I was now in London alone and was 19 years old with no one to turn to except myself. I had been at the top of the pile a few months before, but now found myself struggling to make sense out of what was going on. When I least expected it Lois showed up at my door. (In case you don't know or don't recall Lois was the ex wife of the man Tony Alamo had conned into guaranteeing payment for the Billboard ads.I'd been living with her in L A before I came to London.)

Anyway here she was standing at the door looking like a million bucks and I had mixed feelings about her showing up. Why? Because she had come with Susi over a week before and this was the first I'd seen of her. It seems, according to her that she had been a guest of Victor Loundes (not sure of that spelling) who ran the Playboy Club in London. So here she was coming over to visit with me. I told her I wasn't too happy about playing second fiddle to that guy and asked her, why she even bothered to come at all? Her reply was almost life threatening at the time.

I was already feeling like an abandoned child, because everyone had left when Lois lit in to me saying, "I was a failure and everybody knew except me and that she had decided that if no one was going to tell me she would." Her words hit me in the face like a hammer and I told her to, "shut up." She just kept going and going like a mother scolding a child. I lost it. I slapped across the face and told her to, "Get the fuck out and leave me alone." She refused to leave and I slapped her again. I had never hit a women in my life, but I hit her. I was not prepared to handle her verbal attack on me and hitting her was all I could come up with to make her stop. There is no justification for what I did. I am telling you what happened. It is for the reader to decide how I should be viewed in light of this information. Lois finally left and I sank into a state of depression like I had never known. I was totally alone and had no idea of what to do.

2009-04-11T15:15:00.000-07:00

MONDAY, JANUARY 21, 2008

(part 27) ALCOHOL SAVED MY ASS.

I remember feeling as scared as I'd ever felt. I had never been in the situation I found myself in that night in London in 1964. I was absolutely on my own and did not know what I was going to do. The guilt from hitting Lois was overwhelming, while at the same time the anger at her for attacking me after shacking up with some playboy mogul for a couple of weeks, was real. I went back and forth for hours until I'd worked myself into a frenzy of confusion and fear. I had no money to speak of and had nothing going in the way of any business contacts or opportunities.

I had always relied on others to do the business while I concentrated on the music. Even though the people I'd trusted had pretty well made a mess out of things I still wished there was someone who could take the reigns and guide me in the right direction. As I sat alone that night I thought I was going to lose my mind. I went and got a drink of scotch from a bottle we kept around and poured a big glass half full. This was to change my life, though at the time I didn't know it. I was just trying to calm down and gain some sort of control of myself.

As the alcohol began to take effect I found myself begin to think more clearly and rationally. I began to formulate a plan in my head about what I could do to help rectify my crumbling situation. First I thought, pull yourself together and act like somebody who knows what they're doing. I went and took a shower, washed my hair, and dressed to go to the "Ad Lib Club". I was a goddamned pop star I thought and I was going to goddamn well act like one and look like one. Honestly it was all I knew how to do. Kinda like a good whore dressing up to do business.

In essence, I was a good little "pop whore". I have nothing but admiration for whores by the way, cause I am one. I looked at myself in the mirror in the living room of my flat which was a full length mirror and I looked good. I looked like a "pop star." I finished my drink and headed for the street to hail a cab and go an sell myself to the highest bidder. That was my plan. To present myself at the "Ab Lib Club" and circulate the message that I was looking for new representation and a new record deal.

That night started a long time trend for me called have a drink and make a new deal. I became a professional at starting over and over and over. In fact I'm currently doing it again. As I milled through the crowd at the "Ab Lib" I looked for familiar faces as a form of anchor for my still fractured new reality of being alone. I got a drink, because I wasn't about to let the fear from earlier that night get a hold on me again. Alcohol was my friend and ally. I ran into the band "The Pretty Things" and some of there management that night and made it clear to them that I was seeking a new deal. They were interested right off and said so quite clearly.

I felt as though that was an ace in the hole for me and it relieved some of the pressure I'd been feeling, but remember I said I was a whore and like a good whore I was gonna keep on lining up clients of interest as long as I could. Even though I'd been abandoned by everyone I'd started with it didn't mean that there wasn't significant interest in me as an artist. Like it or not, I was very well known in London at the time and in the world of celebrity that counted for a lot." The Pretty Things" management were no fools they recognized the potential and voiced their opinion. I have always remembered them with great fondness for that.

2009-04-11T15:05:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, JANUARY 25, 2008

(part 28) A NEW COMPANY AND A NEW START

I left the "Ad Lib Club" that night with a changed mind about the current crisis I was living in. Even though I'd lost my connection with Andrew Oldham it had become immediately evident that there was and would be interest by others in me as an artist in London. I felt a bit more at ease, but vowed to stay on the job until I accomplished my task which was to secure a new deal with new people. I knew "The Pretty Things" people were serious and looking back on it now, that's where I should have gone. But at that point I was so scared I think that what I thought I needed were people who appeared more prominent and that's what I went looking for until I found it, and once again it turned out to be the wrong move.

"The Pretty Things" and their people were down to earth and straight forward. I incorrectly assumed that to be a negative at the time. I don't know why, but if I'm honest about it I was just wrong about them and have always regretted it. I foolishly believed that people in suits were somehow better than ones who didn't dress up to do business. It probably had to do with the appearance of money and since I didn't have any I wanted to be around what I thought were people who did. I was very insecure and it showed itself in many different ways now that I look back on it. Be that as it may, I finally was introduced, probably at the "Ad Lib Club", to a group of English business men who all wore suits and ties and talked all that high class bullshit I was searching for.

Chris Peers and Harry, I'm sorry I can't remember his last name, but they represented a new company at the time called Brit Records which turned out to be the forerunner of Island Records, Chris Blackwell's company. They had a hit with a girl named Millie Small called "My Boy Lollipop" and were out shopping for new artists. I was looking for a new company and they were looking for a new artist it was a match made in heaven or so we thought. They agreed to take me on and pay my rent and make sure I didn't starve to death. They agreed to give me a small allowance each month so I wouldn't walk around penniless. Now when I say a small allowance that's what I really mean. Probably 60 or 70 dollars a week. I never had any money. I was about to cut my 3rd record, for a 3rd company, on two different continents, in less than a year and I still hadn't made 10 cents,
so $60 or $70 dollars a week was like a windfall to me.

I ended up moving from Belgravia, where I was first located, kind of like Beverly Hills, to Knightbridge, still nice, just not as nice. I was seeing an English girl named Judy Foote(not sure of the spelling) who's father was in the House Of Commons, kinda like the House Of Congress here, anyway PJ Proby, who was an American from Texas and a big pop star in England when I got there, introduced me to her and we kept on seeing each other over the next few months. She had a thing for "American Pop Stars" as she called them and that was her interest in me an "American Pop Star". The story of the "one glove" I wore just kept getting bigger and bigger over time until it actually became part of my public persona as it were. I had thought that it was just some stupid thing I'd done, but people liked it and wouldn't let it go, weird. After getting moved and settling in a bit I began to work on songs that I wanted to record and believed I would have a chance to redeem my credibility with the English audience, this was not necessarily to be the case.

2009-04-11T14:54:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 2008

(part 29) THE GLOVE "AMERICAN POP WHORE" IN LONDON

I worked on various songs to record for Brit. They were more along the lines of "All Alone", "Vietnam", and "Gotta Find My Roogalator" which I recorded when I went back to America in 1965. I had zero luck at trying to convince the powers at Brit to go along with me which was another disappointment in my English adventure. I had also written a song called "Rum Pum Mum Num Dip Ta Dip" which was shortened to "Rum Pum" for the record. It was an overly cute song using old nursery rhymes strung together and Brit loved it. They also loved another better song called "I Wanna Know" for the B side. It was scheduled to be recorded with about a third of the players from the London Symphony Orchestra which ended up being how it was done for the record's release.

It was a long way from Bobby Jameson and his guitar in his bedroom singing Buddy Holly songs a few years earlier to recording in London England with an orchestra of that calibre. It was a hell of an experience, but once again it was not me. It was an overly exaggerated super teeny bopper pop thing and I had a hard time coping with it. As usual I gave it my full attention and the recording was good, it just wasn't me. The goddamn "Glove" thing was to be hyped up to the eyeballs with the new record's release and I kind of groaned about that, but had only myself to blame for starting it in the first place. I felt like a little dancing puppet all the time, running this way and that for whoever was paying the bills and it started to be annoying the more I looked at it.

It had been that way with Tony Alamo and again with Andrew Oldham and now it was happening again. I felt like a girl with a sugar daddy. Ok we'll pay your rent, but you gotta do what we tell you to do. Bobby Jameson the good little "pop whore." It was a trade off for sure. I wanted something so I had to provide something and "they" got to call the shots, because they had the money and the power. My life was like a crash course in the music business. In less than one year I had learned a ton of shit about myself and other people. Had it not happened to me the way it happened I reckon I would be a completely different person than I am now, but it did happen the way it happened and I'm still trying to sort it out.

When you're as young as I was at the time, you are transformed by things much more than you would be if you were older and more settled. I didn't know shit so all of these things effected me deeply. On top of that I didn't have anyone to rely on as a person you know that I could talk to about how I felt inside. I was always running around with that "pop star" look in my eyes so people never knew what I was thinking or feeling. Anyway, I was living in Knightsbridge during this time and every day, like clockwork a "Lady Grey" would come to my flat to see me and hang out with me for hours. When I say Lady, I mean like "Lords And Ladies" she was "Lady Grey". She showed up with her two little Whippet dogs and listened to me play music and talk. I never made love to her, although I believe I could have, I just never did. I can't really remember how we met, but I think it was through Peter Caine. I think she met Peter first and then me. I liked her a lot. She is in my memory for ever. Her and many other details of what it was like to be an American "pop whore" in London, in 1964 and 65.

2009-04-11T14:33:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2008

(part 30) "THE GLOVE" ANOTHER TV DISASTER

From bobby jameson

Brit's build up to their new release of Bobby Jameson on it's basically new label was as much for their own self promotion as it was for me. They calculated that making me into a star all over again would do nothing but good for Brit itself. I think they determined, at least in their own minds, that they could succeed where Andrew Oldham and Decca had failed. As I said, "The Glove" was now becoming a story unto itself. I had these custom made gloves with zippers on the back so I could get the thing on and off with out trouble. The glove was long and ran about 3/4 of the way up to my elbow. That was so you couldn't see where it ended. It went under my shirt cuff and just kept going. It was jet black and the zipper was silver so it stood out pretty good.

Everywhere I went people would look at this thing and wonder why I only had 1 and was there something wrong with my hand so I had to cover it? I gotta tell you that this was one of the stupidest things I ever did. It was a great gimmick, but I got tired of wearing it. I wanted to shit can it all together, but the guys at Brit wouldn't let me. They kept saying how important it had become and that they were building a publicity campaign around not only me, but "The Glove". I wore one only on one hand, but every now and then I'd switch hands just to see if people were paying attention. Every now and again someone would ask me about it in a kind of confused awkward way. "Didn't you wear that glove on your left hand"? "No man, I always wear it on my right hand."

This was pretty entertaining for me, because it gave me a way to put up with my own bullshit creation that I was now trapped into continuing. But I had to be careful and not end up saying what hand I wore it on to someone I'd previously said it to just in case my answer was in conflict with what I'd stated earlier to them. Pretty damn confusing, but even that became part of "The Glove" game. "What hand does Bobby Jameson wear his "mysterious black glove on?" This went on for months, if you can believe it, frankly I still don't know why. Christmas and New Years came and went and I began to feel a sense of loss not being in America at Christmas. I guess it was that I'd never not been in America at Christmas until then.

As the months wore on I moved again to Chelsea and I don't think there was a reason for it other than I conned the Brit guys into believing it was necessary for one reason or another. I must have played "I'm your little shining star" on them and they reluctantly agreed to it. Knightsbridge just wasn't where most of the "pop stars" were Chelsea was. So there I was in Chelsea, playing "I'm a pop star" once again. With a new record and a new label, but there was only one problem, I didn't like the record and I didn't like my image. I was as phony as a three dollar bill. I was caught again by my own dreams and chained to the "Dream Makers". They amongst other things had booked me on one of the biggest television music shows in England and I was set to lip sync "Rum Pum" for all of Britain once more as I had with "All I Want Is My Baby."

I think the first TV show I had originally said was "Thank Your Lucky Stars" was actually "Ready Steady Go" and that this second big TV shot was "Thank Your Lucky Stars" out of Brighton, England. The producers of the show had arranged with Brit, without my knowledge, to do some very elaborate stuff with me, but I wasn't let in on it until the day of the show when I arrived at the television station. They showed me a 30 foot ladder that I would be climbing up with a mirror at the top of it. The TV camera was on the ground and focused on the mirror at the top of the ladder so as I climbed up the ladder the TV screen shot, going out nation wide, would show my hands, "The Glove" coming toward the camera. In other words it would appear to the television audience that the camera was at the top of the ladder taking a picture of me climbing up.

These days with smaller lighter cameras they'd of just had a camera uo there, but back then the cameras were big huge floor only models thus their mirror gimmick. (If I didn't make that clear enough I'm sorry.) I thought the whole idea was pretty lame, but agreed to do it none the less. I was then ushered back to a dressing room to wait for my turn on the show. When I got back there I met another act from America who was also on the same show with me. John Hammond Jr., the son of Hammond Sr., who'd discovered Bob Dylan. John was strictly an authentic "Blues" guy and we hit it off from the gate. We were back in that room for at least an hour and a half and ended up loaded on "hash" and "whiskey" from a pint that john brought with him.

We were talking about what they wanted me to do on this TV show and laughing our asses off at the whole thing. I believe Donavan was in there with us, but wanted no part of our party even though we tried to get him to smoke some dope with us. At some point John and I decided the coolest thing I could do was not to wear "The Glove" , because the whole appearance was built around it. "Yeah," I said, "that's a good idea, I won't wear the glove." After a while someone came back to get me, saying that my spot was coming up next. I made my way back to the main stage and readied myself for their cue. We'd already run through what they wanted me to do so I just stood there waiting for the music to start. I kept my hands in my pockets so no one ever noticed that the glove was missing.

The music started and I began climbing, lip syncing the lyrics as I headed up the ladder. I could see my reflection in the mirror as I continued up the ladder putting one hand in front of the other. About half way up I could hear voices hissing below me saying, "Where's The Glove? He hasn't got The Glove on." At the time I thought this was pretty damn funny, but I soon found out that no one shared that opinion with me at all. When the stunt and song had ended I went back down the ladder to the floor where an incensed British TV producer greeted me with absolute scorn. He told me in no uncertain terms that I had destroyed his vision and that I would never be allowed to do that TV show again.

2009-04-10T22:56:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2008

(part 31) AMERICAN POP STAR GOES HOME A FAILURE

It was a big deal to both Brit Records and the TV show. I had crossed some line that you don't cross according to all of them and they were not going to stand for it. They demanded an apology from me and went on and on about how much they'd done for me and how insensitive I was and this and that and... That was it! I kind of lost it at that point, because all I'd heard for over a year was how much other people had done for me as if I hadn't done a goddamn thing. I told Chris Peers who was the big cheese ball at Brit that someone should have told me about what they were planning to do with me on the TV show before I got there so I might have had an idea of what to expect before they dropped it on me at the last minute.

"I thought it was a bullshit idea Chris," I said, "but nobody asked me. You guy's just expect me to do what ever you say and that's it. Well I guess you know now that that's not just it." I laid into him pretty good at that point and aired some of the feelings that had been building up for a long time. "When I was in America, I was singing live on stage in front of thousands of people. Ever since I came to England all I do is go in the studio and then on TV. I told you guys that "Rum Pum" was not the right song, but you wouldn't listen so I did it your way." "look Bobby, said Chris." We told you in the beginning that we at Brit thought it was the best way to to things. To gain a commercial success with a song Like "Rum Pum" and then you'd be able to do the kinds of songs that you wanted to do." "Well it's not working out Chris, I said, "You've got another TV record, just like before. Why don't you give me a band and let me put together a live show?" "Now Bobby, we've been through all that before and everyone agreed that the way we're doing it is the proper way to break you to the British audience here and now and." I interrupted him and said, "Chris I frankly don't want to do it your way or Andrew Oldham's way. All I know is that I'm the one going on television, not you, and that two of those times have made me feel like a fool for singing. I have never had that happen until I came to England and let other people tell me what and how to perform. It was just something that I always knew how to do, but for some reason no one in this goddamn country will let me do it."

At that point some of the other people in the room said it was time to end the meeting and let everyone have time to reflect in a calmer fashion. So there I was alone again, Bobby Jameson boy wonder pissing off the hand that fed me. I felt like shit and had no idea of what to expect or what I should do. I knew I didn't want to keep parading around like a "teen dolly" for the likes of Chris Peers and Brit Records and do some more absurd TV performances so what then? What should I do? I remembered what PJ Proby had told me when he was in a similar jam over splitting his pants and being threatened by the British Home Office with deportation for lude public acts as they called it.

"Bobby," said PJ, "You'll know when it's time to leave England, it'll just be obvious to you when it's there." That's the last time I ever spoke to Proby. But now, here I was asking myself if that's where I'd gotten to, was it time? Was that it? I had that feeling like "yeah fuck it" its' time to go home. My life had been like a buzz saw for over a year now and I was a completely different person than the one who was discovered in "The Carolina Pines" by Tony Alamo in Hollywood. I had seen and done things in the past year and I don't know how many months that a lot of people will never know about let alone experience. I felt displaced and lonesome for the states. I just wanted to get out of England and go back to America so that's what I set out to accomplish, no matter what anyone said and they had things to say believe me.

Brit refused to help me in any way and that was that. They turned their back on me and I understood why. I had no money and no friends. There wasn't one person in that whole country I could ask for help. The only way I ever got help was to put myself up for sale as I have already stated and that was out. I had no way to buy a plane ticket to get out of the country. Brit would only assist me if I continued to do what they wanted and that was out. So what was I supposed to do with this new pile of shit I was living in?

I didn't know and I don't remember now, but somehow I ended up at the American Council or something. You know, like a diplomatic US building in a foreign country that's where I went. I told them who I was, where I was from and how I got into England in the first place. I told them I had been brought to England by a bunch of people, both American and British, as an American pop star to work with Andrew Oldham and make records and that things hadn't gone too well and now I wanted to go back to America, but none of the people who brought me here had made arrangements to get me back they had all abandoned me.

The guy looked at me like I was from Venus. He got so mad I thought he was going to have a stroke right then and there. "What do you mean they abandon you?" he asked, "I mean they just left me here about 5 months ago and went back to America and I haven't heard from them since." I said. This guy got even more pissed off after I said that. He told me, "We'll bloody well see about that," and that I should go back to my flat. He asked if I could do that and I said I could and he'd contact me as soon as possible with news about what we'd do about my situation. He verified my passport and wrote down a lot of information and then politely sent me on my way.

In a couple of days, not very long, he contacted me and said there was a one way ticket for me to New York City and then on to Los Angeles and asked if that would be convenient for me? I told him, "yeah," a little bit startled that it happened so fast. I tried to get him to tell me who bought the ticket and all I could get was that it was paid for by the same people who had arranged to get me here in the first place and that they had not been given a choice in the matter something about International Law and responsibility regarding citizens on foreign soil and such. I figured they had threatened Lee Karsian and his rich English friend into getting my ass back to the US. I, to this day do not know what actually happened.

2009-04-10T22:47:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2008

(part 32) LOOKING BACK AND MOVING FORWARD

So there I was. After 3 records, with 3 different labels, in 2 different countries, I hadn't made 10 cents. The only one of the records that had really done well was "I'm So Lonely" which I wrote, arranged, sang and produced. Somehow at 19 years old and turning 20 I was to be blamed for each and every failure of Tony Alamo, Andrew Loog Oldham, and Brit Records not to mention Lee Karsian and his rich British friends who'd walked out when their failure at securing a follow up with Oldham put a damper on their ambitions.

Without representation of any kind I had secured a new deal with Brit to try and salvage the whole thing. It had failed for various reasons, but still I was the one with the finger pointed directly at me. In a foreign country without so much as lunch money I was somewhat concerned with my tenuous circumstance as I surveyed the closing chapter of my English experience, as well as my overall career to date. Whatever the final outcome was to be, I felt and still do, that I deserved more credit for persevering than I have ever received. What I learned was it's easy to blame the artist for failures rather than admit to any yourself if in fact management, producers, and record labels were responsible for many of those failures. Be that as it may I was headed back to the USA with only a tarnished reputation to show for the prior nearly year and a half of the Bobby Jameson story.

I would ask that the reader to be somewhat patient with me as I am experiencing dreadful headaches and find it somewhat difficult to remember and write clearly my experiences. I have tried to highlight specific parts while acknowledging that many details have been omitted from these writing though nothing of a pertinent nature has been left out. Admittedly I could have done many things better looking back, but I and the reader have to keep in mind that I was only 19 years old and completely inexperienced. I had no lawyer, no manager, and obviously no friends. I did the best that I could at the time of these events.

Here are the facts. Bobby Jameson and Tony Alamo. No contract of any kind that includes publishing. I never signed away the rights to any songs to Tony Alamo or anyone else who may be claiming to own my songs or any one of the songs that I recorded while with Alamo. That would include Kim Fowley Music.

Bobby Jameson and Andrew Loog Oldham no contract. I have never been paid one penny for the record I made with Andrew Oldham. "All I want Is My Baby/Each And Every Day." It has been released numerous times as a single and as an addition to numerous albums in 44 years, I have received nothing as the artist.

Bobby Jameson and Brit Records. Probably some sort of an agreement made with a 19 year old kid, on foreign soil, with no representation at the time of the signing. Questionable at best. Somehow Kim Fowley Music again claims ownership of the song "Rum Pum Mum Num". As I relive these facts from my past while attempting to clearly detail those events here I am forced to examine how it is that not one penny in royalties, due me, is of any importance to those who shared in the responsibility in the causation of the events. I have never made a penny from any of these recordings or songs.

2009-04-10T22:35:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 2008

(part 33) NO ONE TO SAY GOODBYE TO, NO ONE TO SAY HELLO.

I boarded the plane at London Airport (Heathrow, I think) and looked out the window at England for the last time. I hadn't had anyone to see me off and no one was waiting for me to arrive back in America. Other than looking like a "pop Star" I had become once more the boy from Tucson, Arizona via Geneva, Illinois who played songs he wrote on a guitar in his bedroom. I was leaving with nothing other than 2 failed records and 2 failed TV shows. I was the has been that never was. The big hype! Mr. publicity and not much else. It was a strange feeling to have done what I had done for the past nearly year and a half and to now be leaving as if nothing had ever happened. I had no idea at 20 years old what this all meant. I had no money other than about $20 on me and no plan for what to do when I got back to America.

No one on earth knew where I was at that moment and most likely didn't care, with the exception of my own family. I hadn't called anyone and asked for help, because I was too ashamed to. I believed that they thought I was doing great so I couldn't call and tell them I was coming back a failure. The use of the word failure has caused some people to scold me after reading what I have written. But "failure" is what I was. I hadn't succeeded at getting anywhere. I had just made a lot of noise and got my picture taken and my name printed. There was no hit record, no money, and no anything else. Hell I couldn't even find someone to take me to the airport. So if the word "failure" is out of place I'd like to know what else to put as it's replacement.

I had not succeeded and where I came from that is known as failing. I also learned "If at first you don't succeed, try try again." I had every intention of trying again. I didn't exactly know how, at that moment, but I believed that Bobby Jameson would always come up with something just like he always had. It was like some sort of magic to me. Something I couldn't explain, but something that I relied on no matter what the conditions around me looked like.

I landed in New York City many hours later and got off the plane. We had a layover till the next flight to L A so we were put up for the night at the Americana Hotel. After getting my room straight I went down to the bar to try and get a drink. People stared at me, because I looked the way I did and they thought, well you get it, they thought what they thought. I was dressed in a suit so I looked pretty good and had no trouble getting a drink at the bar. I was 20 years old, but no one asked me for any ID. As I was standing there two couples kept watching me and kind of whispered to each other and than laughed. I had no idea what they were saying, but eventually they came over to me and said, "You're one of them aren't You?" "One of who?" I asked. "Oh come on now," said this guy, "we know who you are." I started to correct him and tell him they'd made a mistake, but I stopped, because the guy wanted to buy me a drink. Hell, I didn't have any money and I still wanted to drink so I said "ok."

I was speaking with more of an accent than I had realized from being in England for nearly a year and coupled with the way I looked they had mistakenly decided I was an English "pop star". We were all getting along famously, but as I drank more my southwestern background and accent began to emerge. All of a sudden this guy starts accusing me of being a liar and tricking all of them into believing that I was somebody that I wasn't. It didn't do any good for me to explain they were just pissed off and insulted that I had duped them into believing something that wasn't true.

I landed in L A the following day. I arrived at LAX with zero fan fare. Nothing! No one to pick me up and no one to say hello. I will never forget it. Just this sense of aloneness like I didn't exist. Just another body pushing along through the nameless crowd to I didn't know where. I took a bus transport to the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel for $3, because it was all I could afford. I wasn't going to stay at the hotel it was just the closest place to Sunset Blvd. that I could get to. Once there I got a taxi cab, another 3 bucks to Ben Franks on the Sunset Strip near La Cienega Blvd. I got out of the cab and told the guy driving I was broke and couldn't tip him as I paid the fare. He was a black guy and told me not to worry about it that he understood. I watched him pull away and then turned to look at Ben Franks. I had no money and no where to go. I had no one I could call and no plans. I was just there standing like a statue in the parking lot of that coffee shop. I didn't know what I was going to do or where I was going to sleep that night. I just stood there and didn't move for a long time.....

2009-04-10T22:22:00.000-07:00

picture from Charles Phoenix.com

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2008

(part 34) THE WOMEN AND THE STREETS OF HOLLYWOOD

I still remember that moment like it was yesterday. Staring at my suit case and guitar case and wishing I didn't have to lug them around, but having no place to leave them. So there we were, me and the 2 cases. I stared at the blacktop covering Ben Franks parking lot thinking about how warm it was compared to London. I was over dressed for Southern California, but couldn't do anything about that either. If I took off my suit coat I still had to carry it or keep and eye on it so it just seemed easier to leave it on.

For the last year and a half I had stood on stages in front of thousands of people, been on television in two different countries, hobnobbed with the rich and famous, been written about, photographed and recorded. Now, I was just alone standing in a parking lot with nowhere to go. It was a moment that froze in time when you realize clearly that there are and will be no guaranties about anything. I was yanked out of my dreamworld, literally, by the sound of a girl's voice asking, "Bobby?" I turned in the direction of the voice and tried to figure out who it was. To this day I cannot remember her name, I am sorry, she may have saved my life, she certainly made it easier.

I didn't recognize her, but she knew me. "yeah," I said, "it's me." "Wow you look great," she announced. "Like one of the damn Beatles," she said. "Thanks, I just got back from London." I replied. "What were you doing there?" she asked. "Making records with Mick Jagger," I said. She stared at me like I was from mars trying to incorporate what I had just dropped into the conversation. "Really," she responded, not too sure I was telling the truth, "What was that like?" "It was ok I guess, but it didn't really work out too well." She had no idea of what I was talking about. "So what are you doing here in the parking lot? Why didn't you go inside?" She asked. "I just got here, just a little while ago," I said, "I was trying to figure out what to do." "Well where are you staying, are you here in town?" she asked. "I don't know," I said, "I don't have any place to stay." She looked straight at me and said, "My girlfriend and I have an apartment just a couple of blocks from here, you can stay on our couch if you want?" I still remember the relief I felt when she said that like a boulder had been lifted off me. One problem solved! "Yeah," I answered, "that would be great if, are you sure it's ok?" "Sure it's ok, my room mate will love you."

This moment in my life proved to be the beginning of how I would live in Hollywood and the surrounding areas for the next 20 years. It was the women of Southern California that saved my ass, literally, over and over again. I lived with them, I loved them, I fought with them, I got loaded with them, and every other "with them" you can think of. If it were not for them I would be dead, period. I bonded with so many different women in those 20 years that it would be close to impossible to recall or remember each one of them. But as far as I can tell not one of them ever hated me and there are none that I ever remember hating. To the contrary. I am still coming across many of them, because I am writing this and because of the internet in general. Some of them from 30 and 40 years ago.

They tell me stories, send pictures they still have, and all kinds of wonderful things. For this I am extremely grateful and happy. I'm sure the possibility still looms large that I have yet to encounter some who may not hold me in high regard. This too I will accept willingly.

After settling in on the couch for a day and having a place to stash my stuff I hit the streets. I had to get out and get something going. I was used to having a plan and then acting on it. If no one was looking for me then I'd go look for them. If no one knew who I was, and they didn't, then I'd tell them. It was like what I used to do before Tony Alamo found me. Just get out and circulate, like me and Danny Whitten, Billy Talbot, and Ralph Molina used to do. Find out where the action was and go there and stay there.

2009-04-10T22:11:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2008

(PART 35) CHRIS DUCEY BECOMES CHRIS LUCEY ?

There was a new feeling in the air. It was different from when I had been in LA in 64. It was partly due to the wave of British bands sweeping across America, but there was something else, something completely new about the atmosphere around the Sunset Strip and West Hollywood. I began to notice that people were more open and friendlier than they had been in 64. There seemed to be a genuine interest and level of acceptance between people on the street who were strangers. Instead of just ignoring each other they actually were taking time to stop and communicate. Petty differences seemed obsolete while curiosity in and about others seemed to be taking the lead.

You could quite literally walk outside not knowing anyone walk from Sunset and La Cienega to Sunset and Clark, where the Whiskey A Go Go was, and have a whole new set of friends. Really! It was a trip! And words like trip, groovy, right on, it's boss, far out, etc. were all being born out of this new sense of community. It was happening in a lot of places all over the country, but it would be a while before everyone knew how powerful and wide spread this social movement really was. The world was being changed right before my eyes. LSD was something I started hearing about as soon as I got out on the streets. Rumor was that you could find God on this stuff and alter your consciousness for the better.

Almost immediately, I forgot about my losses and began to assemble a new personality mixing the British pop scene where I had just been with newer elements of the psychedelic world springing up around me. Color and design began popping up everywhere. Peace signs were a new and powerful reminder to people that a war was going on and the country was taking sides for and against it. "Make Love Not War" was one of the best slogans I have ever heard in my life and was something 10's of thousands of young and not so young people practiced religiously, myself included. A new phenomenon called "Hippies" began appearing everywhere. Young people who thought dancing to good music, smoking weed, and making love far out classed the typical get a haircut, a job, and join the army generation.

These two factors would eventually clash violently on Sunset Blvd. in and around Pandora's Box and The Fifth Estate which were roughly located at Sunset and Crescent Heights Blvd. about a year or so later. Everywhere I went people were talking about music and new groups that sprung up like flowers out of the pavement. You could get some people together and just make a tape and walk in to countless record labels in Hollywood and get the damn thing released as a record. It was fantastic! Up at the Whiskey A Go Go Johnny Rivers was doing live afternoon shows and killing em. This would soon give way to bands like The Byrds. But I don't want to lose sight of my own story here, because just before this new wave of bands came ploughing through L A there was a transition period.

In between Johnny Rivers and The Byrds. I had begun to meet a lot of people and one of those was a girl named Pam Burns. I don't recall how we met exactly, we just met. That was the way of it then, you just ran into people everywhere and got to know each other it happened all the time. Pam worked at Mira Records, a company that was started by Randy Wood who at one time had been president of Vee Jay Records. He had offices on Sunset Blvd. west of the Whiskey and Pam was one of his personal secretaries. Pam liked me a lot and learned about my past quickly. She remembered the Billboard ads and asked me where I'd disappeared to. I told her the story and she couldn't understand how someone like me had just come along and then just vanished more or less. I told her that I didn't know either, but that's what had happened and here I was with not a goddamn thing to show for it and no work.

I played a lot of songs for her so she knew I could write and sing and wasn't just some over hyped no talent ass hole. She said she wanted to talk to Randy Wood about me and see if she could get him to give me a shot at working on this project of his that had run into contractual problems with and artist they'd recorded an album with named Chris Ducey. I told her thanks and to let me know if anything came up.

2009-04-10T21:54:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2008

(part 36) BOBBY JAMESON BECOMES CHRIS LUCEY

A couple of key things occurred before I ever stepped foot into Mira and Surrey Records or even met Randy Wood for the first time. The Rolling Stones had come to America and had been in LA. The reason this is relevant is because the cover of Chris Ducey/Chris Lucey's album "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest" is a photograph of Brian Jones of The Stones. They had gone to a club in West Hollywood called the "Action" for an afternoon jam session. I'd heard about it, but couldn't get in. I was outside the club in an alleyway and saw Mick Jagger with two girls, one on each arm, and had yelled to him. He'd turned and looked at me and I'd said "Hey Mick, it's me Bobby Jameson." He barely acknowledged me and turned and walked away up the alley with the girls. I stood there for a moment feeling like I'd been slapped across the face and then moved on.

As I said, the reason this event stands out and I mention it is, because Brian was inside the club getting his picture taken which ended up being used as the cover of the Chris Lucey album. I didn't know this at the time it was happening it's just another one of the weird details of this story that became known after the fact. I'd also run into to Lois Johnston somewhere during that time and she was making nice and wanted me to move back into her house in Benedict Canyon, where I'd lived before I went to England. I was surprised by this in light of what had occurred in London when she visited me there, but none the less I eventually moved back in with her, something I would repeat a number of times in the future.

Randy Wood had acquired, or thought he had, an artist named Chris Ducey. They, (Mira/Surrey) had an entire album with 10 songs of Ducey's ready to go. The cover was printed and there were thousands of them with the titles of Ducey's songs printed on the album covers. The album was already scheduled for a European release and part of the deal's success was strictly based on that particular album's cover the one with Brian Jones's picture on it. All of a sudden they'd run into contract problems with Ducey and he'd bowed out of the deal completely. There they were! An album cover with no album and 10 song titles printed on the covers and no songs. They had to use that cover or the deal was dead and there was all the cost already involved so they were stuck with that cover.

They couldn't use Ducey's name, but it was printed on the cover. The printer, who had done the original work on the jackets figured out that he could rerun the already printed covers back through his press and cancel out part of the letter D from Ducey's name and make it into an L, thus Chris Lucey was created on that premise. Now all Randy Wood needed was someone to rewrite 10 songs to the existing titles and record them all as a new album and he needed that accomplished yesterday.

Randy Wood was a demanding human being, but also a resourceful one. He'd lined up Marshall Lieb, ex Teddy Bear and cohort of Phil Spector, to produce the thing, but they hadn't yet found anyone to write the songs to existing titles and record them. Randy was also a cheap son of a bitch which is probably why he hadn't had any success finding anyone to do the dirty work. Pam Burns, Randy's personal secretary, had repeatedly pushed Randy to give me a chance at doing the work. He had been reluctant to even meet me, but was now running up against a deadline that he could no longer ignore so he told Pam to bring me around.

I didn't know any of the details about this until I met with Randy for the first time. I was flat broke and it was an opportunity, as far as I knew, to make a few bucks by writing songs. I said to Pam let's go meet him. Randy was a black guy that looked almost white. He was well dressed, all the time, and you could tell instantly that he was in charge of the entire universe and if you questioned it, even slightly, he would straighten you out immediately. I on the other hand I was a 20 year old washed up pop star who believed he could do anything if given the chance. We were a match made in hell which I was intimately used to.

He launched into the story of the Chris Ducey album and songs and drug me over to where the album covers were. As soon as I saw the cover I said, "Hey, that looks like Brian Jones." "It is," said Randy, "We got that shot at "The Action Club" when they were here in LA great picture isn't it?" "Yeah,"I said. "it's a real good picture. Why are you using that? I thought this guy's name was Ducey or something?" "It is," said Randy. He showed me the two different covers. Identical except for the "L" and the "D". He explained in detail what they had done and why and what they needed now to keep the whole thing from going down the tubes and losing a lot of money. He said that I was there only, because Pam Burns was relentless at promoting me to him. I said I knew that and turned and smiled at Pam who was quietly listening to how all this progressed.

Randy asked me again if I understood what he needed and that he needed it now. I told him I was clear on it and asked him how much money I'd make for doing it. That seemed to piss him off a bit, because I'd changed the subject slightly and had assumed that I had the job which he quickly straightened me out on. "I didn't say you could do it yet man, I don't even know if your the right guy." "Yeah, sorry," I said, "I just wanted to know if you did let me do it how much would I get?" He looked at me kind of disgusted and then looked over at Pam like, "Who is this guy?" We ended that particular meeting on somewhat of a sour note and I figured I blew it.

As I left with Pam I told her I was sorry for screwing it up and thanked her for trying so hard. "What are you kidding, you'll get it, don't worry." "Yeah, but," "Don't worry," said Pam, "You got it, at least you got the opportunity. Just write him a couple of songs and if you do that the way I know you can you got it." "How do you know?" I asked. "Because I know Randy and because you're all he's got and he's running out of time."

2009-04-10T21:42:00.001-07:00

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 2008

(part 37) WRITING THE SONGS FOR CHRIS LUCEY

Randy Wood and Marshall Lieb screwed around for another week or so trying to get someone they knew to do the work on the Chris Lucey album, but came up empty. Let me clarify something here which I have noticed in reading what has been written about this subject that is completely out of whack. Chris Lucey/Chris Ducey was not and was never intended to be a big album release. Surrey Records was a budget line label of Mira Records, rack jobber stuff. That means it was always destined for metal racks in super markets where you could pick up unknown records and artists for cut rate prices when you bought groceries. It was bottom of the barrel stuff.

The reason Randy Wood was so hung up on getting it released was that it was a key part of a bigger deal involving a whole line of Surrey releases in Europe. It was the maiden voyage of his Surrey Line and he didn't want the thing screwed up, because of one lousy album. So references to a big ad campaign regarding the release of the Chris Lucey album are completely inaccurate. The big ad campaign has already been discussed with regards to Tony Alamo and Billboard Magazine, in 1964. The two things have nothing to do with each other.

Pam Burns finally gave me the word to come back and meet with Randy again about the Lucey record. That was the first time I found out how much I would make for writing 10 songs and recording them all. I would make either $20 or $25 a song. That is for writing and recording them. It was either $200 or $250 I can't remember which. There was no contract and no discussion of publishing or any other rights. I would just get a couple of hundred for doing the job and Randy would get off the hook. He was still leery of me, because he'd never heard anything I'd done. He was going on Pam Burns word completely, but he trusted her and her judgement.

It was arranged so that each evening after the offices closed Pam and I would come up and I would work on writing the songs. This started immediately. Every night I'd pick out one of Ducey's titles and work out a song that could be construed to have been written with that title in mind. Some of them were matched pretty well others are a bit vague as to title and content of lyric, but that is why the album is like it is. Not only did I have to use some title of Ducey's I had to get this all done in less than 2 weeks. I finished 2 songs the first night and Pam said they were great. "Wait till Randy hears this, he'll be knocked out." She said. "I hope so," I replied.

Randy was knocked out and had no problem letting me know it. I guess it was partly a sense of relief for him that Pam Burns had come through with the goods and Randy's problem was solved. His attitude toward me improved greatly and he started treating me better. I never got too worked up about writing the songs, because I never had any trouble doing it. If I had of had more time Chris Lucey would be a better album. What I did was as well as I could do under the circumstances presented to me at the time. As far as the money goes, I was broke, I did it flat out for the money. It was not a career move it was just a job that I did. Who knew where it would end up decades later.

There are other inaccurate stories about the making of Chris Lucey that I would also like to clear up such as references to the group "LOVE" and Arthur Lee who I knew nothing about nor had I ever heard when I wrote and recorded this particular record. "Love" was known amongst other names as "The Grass Roots" in 65, but had to give up that name and changed it to "Love". There first record was in 1966. I met Arthur Lee after I made Chris Lucey in 65. If I copied someone's work I would freely admit it, but in the case of the Chris Lucey album it just doesn't apply. To this day I have heard very little of "Love's" work.Once again I leave it to the reader to decide for them selves what it is that they believe, I am just telling my story.

2009-04-10T21:30:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, MARCH 2, 2008

(part 38) FAST WAS NOT FAST ENOUGH FOR RANDY

As I began showing up at Mira Records offices on a daily basis I began to get a feel for the lay of the land up there. Randy Wood, who was a pretty good drinker, would spout off about things at the end of the day when he'd have a couple of cocktails at his desk. This became a time for me to pay attention to what he was saying. He did a lot of bragging about an attorney he worked with named Abe Somer. He said that Abe could write a contract that no one could get out of and that no one could understand until it was too late, meaning that by the time you signed a contract that Abe Somer wrote and figured out that you should not have signed it it was too late, because you already had. I took this seriously when I heard it and never forgot it.

Abe was a studious looking fellow, kind of like Bill Gates with the personality of an assassin. He used to eyeball me when ever I was around and I did not like Abe Somer at all. He was acquiring a reputation for changing the music business from a lot of small labels into a corporate structure which bought the little labels and made them part of a bigger structure, like it is now. Abe Somer did more damage to the music business in the 60's than any other one human being I know of. I was there when this was occurring. I warned people about this, but they just laughed at me and said I didn't know what I was talking about. Looking back now I knew exactly what I was talking about.

I wrote 2 or 3 more songs for the Chris Lucey album and Randy was even more pleased than before. He started telling everybody what a good writer I was and that he ought to get me signed up. I was putting the songs down on a 2-track tape recorder at night that they had in the office so Randy could listen to them the next day after I'd finished them. They were pretty rough, but it was a way for Marshall Lieb to hear what he would be producing and get charts written up for the players he was going to use on the record. I finally met Marshall and he was unimpressed by me or the songs, in fact, he was down right obnoxious. He did not want to do the album at all, but was beholden to Randy for something so he'd agreed to do it. But he made no attempt whatsoever to cover his feelings about me, my songs, and the project overall. He was a good producer, but a pain in the ass to work with. He always acted like the whole thing was beneath him and who knows maybe it
was.

While I was writing the songs for the album I enlisted my brother Bill (Jamie) and Bruce(Baby John)Heinz to take a whack at writing something for the record. I told them if Randy liked what they wrote it would be on the album. My brother came up with "That's The Way The World Has Got To Be" (part 2 or "Too Many Mornings") and he and Bruce Heinz came up with "I Got The Blues". Those two songs are stand outs on the record. I helped a bit on both songs, but Bill and Bruce for the most part wrote them. Bruce Heinz if you don't recall was a sidekick of Danny Whitten, Billy Talbot, and Ralph Molina and became their roadie for both "The Rockets" and "Crazy Horse" bands. Randy Wood liked "I Got The Blues" so much that he had it recorded with a full orchestra in England when he went there.

As I pushed on with the writing I encountered difficulties with some of the titles that I was forced to use. Trying to write new songs to somebody else's titles can be a real challenge at times and that was something I found out the hard way. If I didn't have new stuff for Randy every time he asked his personality would shift from I like you to I hate you. It seemed to be about the deadline in Randy's head regarding his overall Surrey agreement with Europe. So the Chris Lucey album getting finished was a priority and I, unfortunately, felt this pressure from Randy to hurry up and get done so we could go in the studio and cut the thing. Forget the fact that I had to accomplish this all in about two weeks, the writing that is, Randy was impatient and let me know it. I learned very quickly that Randy Wood could seem like your best friend one minute and then turn on you the next. I was always ready for his personality shifts and they would always show up.

2009-04-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 5, 2008

(part 39) RECORDING THE CHRIS LUCEY ALBUM 1965

Along with Randy Wood and Abe Somer there were a couple of others who shared offices in that suite that made up Mira, Surrey, Ranwood, etc. Records. Phil Turetsky, one of the best people I met in the music business also had an office there. Phil had, amongst other things, Pacific Jazz Records. He was also a business manager and his primary client and, music partner was Johnny Rivers who at the time was going great guns, both with live performances at the Whiskey A Go Go and with hit records like "Memphis". I got to know johnny pretty well later on through phil, but prior to that time phil just use to take it all in stride, in a very quiet and reserved way.

Phil new where all the bodies were buried let's say. He wasn't like anyone else I knew in the music business. He didn't make moves on you, or if he did, they were so subtle and well placed that you either didn't notice or didn't care. I liked Phil and we got to be very good friends over time as you shall see later. As I continued writing songs for Chris Lucey I ended up with nine completed songs and a tenth one without lyrics. It was good enough for Randy who was chomping at the bit to get into the studio and start recording them. Like I said, Marshall Lieb was not a pleasant guy to work with so when I would try to get him to talk with me about what his plans were for the album he refused to tell me and would not allow any input from me.

I complained bitterly about this and threatened not to cut the damn thing if he kept it up. Randy intervened to some degree, but not enough to give me much of a chance to have any real say, such as, who was gonna play on the damn thing. Marshall pretty much had his mind made up from the outset and I guess it worked out ok in the long run. I did not know any of the players that he got for the Chris Lucey album. To this day I can't tell you who played on that record. I don't know if it was a union date or was all done under the table. We recorded it at American Studio's, on Ventura Blvd., in North Hollywood. It had been a house and was converted into a recording studio by the engineer who I believe owned it. I do not remember his name.

This may all sound pretty vague to the reader, but that's the way this record was done. Everything about it was hit and miss. Randy was so cheap that I would assume the whole thing was done under the table and recorded at a relatively unknown studio on purpose. He just wanted a record any way he could get it. I was not paid any more for playing on the album or singing all the songs. All I ever got was the original $200 or $250 for everything I did on that record. As we began to lay down the first basic tracks I was pleasantly surprised to hear how Marshall had charted them out. They began taking on a distinct personality as we progressed and I was able to interact with the musicians more and more as it all continued to take shape.

Randy was pleased with what was happening and I think surprised that the whole thing was ending up being a lot better than what he'd originally anticipated. Marshall's choice of instruments was odd to me at first, but grew on me with each song, as we thought up different ways to use each instrument in the best possible way. Like the echo on the piano in "That's The Way The World Has Got To Be". "I Got The Blues" was distinctly folk rockish and was most likely influenced by the recently released Byrds version of "Mr Tambourine Man" which came out in 1965. The album's problem, in one way of looking at it, was that it couldn't decide whether it was blues, jazz, pop, or folk rock so what you get is a combination of all of those elements mashed together.

The song "Saline" has a guitar part that was played, by the engineer, directly through the mixing board so it has a distinct and very alive sound. The echo chamber in this place was an old tile covered shower stall with a stand up mic in the middle of it. Patch cords everywhere and things that worked and didn't work with great regularity. The song "I'll Remember Them" was the tenth song I mentioned that I hadn't written lyrics for. I told them just play the track and I'll make something up. So the lyrics to that particular son, were made up as I recorded it, one take, one song. That, more than anything else sums up Chris Lucey. If you don't have it, wing it.

The whole damn thing was "winged". It's also part of the magic, if there is any, to the whole damn project. Everybody was inventing it while we made it and that's what gives it it's particular feel. Various changes in music were occurring every day in the industry and Chris Lucey was being made while these change were happening. This is not an over statement! One day, no Byrds, the next day The Byrds, or Bob Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone". Everybody was scrambling to try and figure out what was happening musically. At the time this was a state of massive confusion. It is far easier to look back now than it was to see forward then. Anyway, in the midst of all this Chris Lucey was born out of a mistake with contracts with another artist and a printer who changed the letter D into an L. That's why and how Chris Lucey even exists. It was born out of a fluke and I became it's voice, it's music, and words.

2009-04-10T19:44:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, MARCH 7, 2008

(part 40) NO CONTRACT ON CHRIS LUCEY ALBUM

The Chris Lucey album is what it is. The people who worked on it worked hard. As I remember, everybody got wrapped up in this odd little album and gave it their all. It was a strange time and Chris Lucey seemed to capture that in a way. Music was in a state of massive change and not everyone was sure about what that meant. Even Marshall Lieb finally admitted that the record had it's own unusual charm and said it came out better than he'd expected. Randy Wood was a happy man and made no attempt to downplay his enthusiasm.

Pam Burns was hailed as a genius by Randy and there was a sense of relief at Mira/Surrey over the completion of the project that had had them so hung up. I was getting a lot of pats on the back for coming through and was accepted as having done a good job under pressure. Marshall Lieb and Randy seemed to have squared their differences, what ever they were with the completion of the Chris Lucey album. I never saw Marshall much after that and always wondered what happened to him. Pam reminded Randy that he'd said that if I got the Chris Lucey record done on time and that Randy approved of it he'd let me make a record of anything I wanted and he'd release it on Mira Records as a single under my real name.

Randy said, "Damn, you ought to be this guy's manager." "Just making sure you remembered," said Pam. She was always looking out for me. From the moment I met her she was on my side. I have the fondest memories of her she was a true friend, probably better than I deserved. There were still things to be done to the album like final mixing, a couple of overdubs, like the harmonica part I played on "That's The Way The World Has Got To Be", and then mastering. But for all intents and purposes the album was done and I was glad. It was hard writing songs to someone else's titles and I swore I'd never do it again.

I was now Chris Lucey, in an odd kind of a way, even though Chris Lucey did not really exist. He was a figment of the imagination of some weird destiny. No one, with the exception of Mira Records and the players, knew who Chris Lucey was or cared. They certainly didn't know I was him nor did anyone else ever know it for years to come. Chris Lucey was released in other parts of the world as "Too Many Mornings" by Bobby Jameson sometime after it was released as Chris Lucey "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest". It wasn't until 5 yeas ago that I even knew anyone cared about the album or knew that Bobby Jameson and Chris Lucey were and are the same person. I spent 40 years trying to forget that I ever made the album, because so many people had put it down as a worthless piece of junk.

At some point after most of the work on Chris Lucey was drawing to a close Randy and Abe Somer corralled me in Randy's office one evening saying they wanted to talk to me about my plans for the future, or something to that effect. I went in and Randy closed the door which he almost never did and started smiling at me and telling me what a good writer and singer I was in his opinion. I eye-balled Abe Somer, who was just standing there with a thick stack of papers in his hand grinning like a cheshire cat. I immediately felt uncomfortable, because this scenario was completely out of the ordinary. I was used to being treated like the odd man out most of the time so I sensed that something was up.

Randy went on and on about how surprised he was with my ability and that because of it he was prepared to offer me a contract as an artist and writer. I asked him if that included Chris Lucey? He said it did. I asked him about what the contract said and how long it was for. He told me seven years and that he would be willing to publish all and anything I wrote from then on. There was no talk of anything for me just what he and Mira would get from me. The feeling in that room was like a kid being ganged up on by two bigger kids.

I told Randy that this was totally unexpected and that I didn't know if I wanted to be tied up with somebody for seven years. Randy's expression changed immediately from that point on. "Whatta ya mean for that long, that's standard," he said, "for an artists contract." "It might be Randy, but I don't know if that's what I want to do or not I'd have to think about it for a while." I replied. "Think about it," he yelled, "I just gave you a chance to cut a whole goddamn album you ungrateful little prick what's there to think about?" I stood there looking back and forth between Abe and Randy trying to gather my wits as this whole thing seemed to be going out of control.

"Did Abe write the contract?" I asked, "You know he did. What's that got to do with it?" yelled Randy. "That's why I'm not going to sign it," I said. Randy moved in on me like a street fighter and grabbed the collar of my shirt with both hands and threw me up against the office wall with a thud. "Listen you little son of a bitch, I..." He trailed off realizing what he had just done. I stood there motionless until he released me from his grip. I looked over at Abe, who had not moved one inch since the whole thing began. Not because he was afraid, but because he was a steely little prick who was unaffected by Wood's occasional outbursts.

Randy kind of mellowed out as fast as he went off. He was like that. He'd change back and forth in a matter of minutes. "Go ahead, get outta here." He said. I pulled myself off the wall and headed for the door not saying a word. I remember thinking, "no one will ever do that to me again, no one, ever." I never signed a contract with Mira/Surrey for writing the songs for "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest" or performing as the artist Chris Lucey. To this day from that it remains the case. No one owns the Rights to those songs except me and I never gave them away, knowingly or unknowingly. I created them and until someone can come up with a contract with my signature on it, stating a legal difference, I own the rights to my songs on the Chris Lucey album.

2009-04-10T19:31:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, MARCH 14, 2008

(part 41) ZONE X

It has taken days of thinking and extreme reluctance before I could even return to this story at all. My music site on myspace was destroyed by someone who thought attacking me was in some way a good thing to do. I put up a new site, bare bones, and have 6 new songs. In my last post I received 1 comment where I was asked what I hoped to achieve. I thought about that for days. Nothing! That's my answer. That's why this is titled Zone X. I have never received anything from the music business but misery. The only people that ever helped me were the women of Southern California who put me in their beds and their hearts. So when I am asked that question, and I am in no way belittling it, I thought long and hard about an answer.

I am too afraid to ever think that anything good will come out of me telling this story. I am telling this story, because it has never been told and I grew tired of reading the lies and non-facts about me on the internet. I have nothing but my story. Other than my music, which I am not allowed to gain financially from, I have a story. I came here to tell my story for me. That is the only reason I am continuing at all. If I relied on getting anything else to continue writing it I would have to stop now. To think, which I have, that I would benefit in any way from writing this and then find out in the end that it was just like it's always been, and still is, I don't think I could stand it.

I think if my disappointment becomes any greater than it has been and continues to be I would just give up and disappear for ever. I am not a person who gets help. I am a person who sure could use some, but at 63 years old in April I have resigned myself to the completely concrete notion that I have never been helped and probably never will be. I can live with that. I can not live with false hope. Maybe you think I just need a better attitude or a more positive outlook, but you hopefully have not and will not have to live through my life or anything similar to it. If you have and are now living the way I have and do, then you are a brother or sister of mine forever.

My position is born out of bitter experience not a negative outlook on life. The reason I am still around is because I have never given up on Bobby Jameson. Pretty much everybody else did, with the exception of my family. On April Fools Day, 2008 I will have 32 years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol, so that is who I am, a story from the past to now, and a sober individual who is writing it all down. I am ZONE X. My life is ZONE X. I hate it, but it's the hand I have been dealt. Many people have sat in judgement of me and many still do. One would think that after all this time I could just share my story and music without getting my head beat in, but that is not the case as I have found.

For what ever reason, and if you use your imagination I'm sure you can come up with a couple, I seem to bring out the worst in some people. I have always done this. I brought out the worst in Randy Wood, Andrew Oldham and Tony Alamo and I am still paying the price. As I continue to relate my story you will see that it gets progressively worse. No matter how hard I tried I could not find one person who was worth trusting in the long run. I am in no way trying to imply that I did not share in the calamity that was my life, but I do believe that if I could have found one fair person to work with I possibly would not be here now telling you this story, the ZONE X story.

2009-04-10T19:18:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, MARCH 16, 2008

(part 42) CHRIS LUCEY, THE LITTLE ALBUM THAT COULD.

Chris Lucey was an album I made out of need for money. When it was finished I had an album that had somebody else's name on it and somebody else's picture on the cover. Those of you who like the album I'm afraid have missed the point of it's creation. I was Bobby Jameson not Chris Lucey, not Brian Jones, who's picture was on the cover. Think about it! What the hell was I supposed to do with an album that led people away from me as an artist to someone named Chris Lucey who really didn't exist, except within the context of that album?

I couldn't and didn't promote my own career with it, because, if you think about it, what was I gonna say, and believe me I tried. "Hey here's my new album and look it's not my picture and it's not my name, but it's really me." Well that's exactly what I was confronted with. People just didn't get it when I showed them or told them about it. They would simply ask me why wasn't my name and picture on the record if it was mine? I finally gave up on using it at all. It was 1965 and Chris Lucey did not exist as anything except a bailout for Randy Wood's Surrey Record deal. I'm sure this context does not fit into anyone's perception of Chris Lucey, but in fact that's how it was at the time. Randy realized I was a better artist and writer than he had given me credit for, once he heard what I could do, but no one was running around heralding Chris Lucey, as an artistic achievement.

It took 30 years for people to figure out that Bobby Jameson was Chris Lucey. The telling of this story is difficult for me in that I run into lack of perspective by everyone in regards to how the true facts were viewed at the time they took place. The view, from what I have encountered in the last few years, is so far off the mark that I have found myself arguing with people who don't know shit about the facts as they truly exist, as to what really happened. The so called music historians have written so much bullshit that people have excepted as fact that I am slowed to a painful crawl as far as clearing up myth.

The arrogance of some of these people who relate stories, as if they'd been there, is a pitiful attempt at self glorification on their part along with those who print and distribute this bullshit. I'm sitting around available to clarify facts, but have found that nobody is particularly interested in my opinion even though I am the only living person who was actually there. Some of you may wonder what is bothering me, because I at times become so frustrated that I threaten to just say the hell with it. Well! I am always ready to quit and say the hell with it, because it is the only protection I have. I do not have to do this if it's going to kill me.

I already lived through it once. Dragging the bottom of my misery so I can relate my past currently is one of the most truly painful things I will ever do. I am constantly remembering things that hurt so bad at the time that I found them difficult to digest as they occurred. To relive them again for the purpose of writing them here is not a pleasant task at all, but something I choose, a day at a time, to continue to do or not to do. There isn't any guarantee whatsoever that the whole story will ever get told.

Chris Lucey was a throw away album when it was created. Like it or not, that is a fact. It has, in recent years taken on a life of it's own and for that I am grateful, but it needs to be viewed in real context to see how it has risen on it's own merit to a position it never held when it was created. This in fact from a historical point of view makes "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest" better as a work and in no way diminishes it's intrinsic value. To attach a lot of untrue rhetoric to Chris Lucey is to belittle it as a work and as a part of minor musical history. Chris Lucey is what it is. A little album that could.

2009-04-10T19:01:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, MARCH 18, 2008

(part 43) LSD, DOWNERS, AND VIETNAM...A NEW BEGINNING

1965 was a big year for me. I took my first LSD trip and started using downers on a regular basis. My first acid trip was with Danny Hutton, who went on to Three Dog Night fame. It started in Hollywood and ended after dawn at Venice Beach and then back to Hollywood. When it was over I was different. My use of downers gave me a sense of well being like nothing I'd ever known in my life. The tension I was used to was gone when I was loaded and I loved it. I felt as if I could do anything. I was addicted from the very first time I used them. When I mixed them with booze I would fight anyone anywhere. This became a trademark of mine over the next number of years and got me into a whole lot of trouble.

After being bounced off the wall by Randy Wood at Mira's offices I vowed that no one would ever touch me again in the music business and I made that promise stick without exception. As far as LSD went it altered all of my perceptions about everything and I used way too much of it.

After Chris Lucey was finished I figured I was too at least where Mira Records was concerned, but Pam Burns kept after to me to go back and cut a single for Mira, telling me that Randy was ashamed of what he'd done to me and wanted to make it right by letting me make a record of my choice under my own name. I was being confronted with a number of issues and had received a letter from my mother containing my draft notice. The war in Vietnam was really starting to escalate and I was going to get sent there. " Jesus Christ man just what I needed," I thought, when I first saw it and found out I was 1-A which meant I was on my way there period.

This fact, as you may have guessed, was the reason I wrote the song "Vietnam". Randy Wood was not too keen on this selection, but said, "If that's what you want to cut then go ahead." I wrote "Metropolitan Man" as a b side and gathered the guys from "The Leaves" together to record the two songs. The Leaves were also on Mira and had recorded my song "Girl From The East" off the Chris Lucey album for their album after scoring a cover hit with "Hey Joe". I was lucky to have their help and the record came out pretty well I thought. There were 2 versions of "Vietnam". I wrote the song at the end of 65 and demo'd it with just me, guitar, and harmonica. The version with a band was cut in early 66.

As promised, it was released on Mira-Mirwood, but was never promoted whatsoever. Randy was reluctant to back an anti war song on his label so the record just died without ever getting a chance. I once asked a group of LA DJ's at the Whiskey A GO GO (REB FOSTER) why they never played any of my records in LA and one of them told me I was using the politics of anti war demonstrations to further my own career. He (Foster) was referring to the anti war demonstrations that were beginning to occur on the Sunset Strip with great regularity at the time. They all laughed when he said that and chimed in, "Yeah, you're too political." Then they all laughed some more and went back to talking to each other as if I wasn't there.

That was pretty much the story with LA radio and me, I never got any airplay. There was a lot of resentment toward me, because of the Tony Alamo days. The big ads and then nothing. People used to say, "Oh, you're the guy who had all that publicity and then blew it." I heard that a lot from music industry people in L A. I was kind of the has been who never was to them and they didn't let me forget it, ever. Randy had kept his promise alright, but had managed to kill the record anyway. I never knew whether he did it on purpose or just didn't get the point with "Vietnam". Hell there was a war going on and a lot of people didn't like the war so one would think that a song as relevant as "Vietnam" would have had a real shot if Mira/Mirwood would of gotten behind the record.

I don't recall the contracts if there were any regarding "Vietnam" and "Metropolitan Man" so I can't say much about it. Knowing Randy though I'm sure there's something about it somewhere, but I don't know what. Randy and I just kind of had a love hate relationship that went on for quite awhile. It was basically Pam Burns that kept any balance going between Randy and me. She was stuck in the middle, because she worked for and liked Randy, but she really believed in me so she was always the one who kept things from going out of control around Mira. As usual I made no money for recording or writing "Vietnam/Metropolitan Man" and unfortunately I was getting used to that so it kind of seemed natural. I just liked writing songs and making records whether I got paid or not and I just kept doing it whenever I got the chance. It proved to be a bad way to do business.

2009-04-10T17:46:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY, MARCH 22, 2008

(part 44) "MONDO HOLLYWOOD", FRANK ZAPPA AND PENTHOUSE RECORDS

Like I said, I just liked writing songs and making records so I kept at it for a long time. It was just what I did. If I wrote a song and liked it it seemed only natural to record it so I could share it with people, "Hey listen to this." That was what it was all about for me, the music. The music business was just a way to accomplish that, not the other way around. When I looked at what I had done and realized I hadn't made a dime I would tell myself, "just keep writing and recording Bobby, sooner or later you'll get a hit and everything will work out fine." I really believed that, so I just kept doing it.

It was early 1966 and a lot of things happened that year. When "Vietnam" was recorded with The Leaves, Bob Cohen filmed it for a movie he was making called "Mondo Hollywood". I never thought much about it at the time, it was just something I did, because somebody asked if I wanted to be in a movie, and I said, "yeah OK!" It was just about that simple. I signed a release form, not a contract, but a release form saying it was OK to show me in the movie and use my songs. "Wham Bam Thank You Mam" kind of stuff. You would have to get Bob Cohen to show you the piece of paper and I do mean piece (1) of paper. They put out a soundtrack album and I got nothing and they're still selling the movie and I get nothing. So who knows what that little piece of paper says?

I'd moved out of Lois Johnston's house again and was going out with a girl I'd met at "The Trip" on Sunset Blvd. It was a new rock n roll club on Sunset Blvd. and she was a cocktail waitress there, her name was Gail Sloatman. If you've ever watched "Mondo Hollywood", an depending on which version you watch, there is a scene at the beach where I am with a girl, that's Gail, I drive away with that girl in a Corvette. The Corvette was Pam Burn's car. It was leased by Randy Wood for Pam, because she worked for him. Pam used to let me drive it so I could look like a successful recording artist. Everything I showed up with was either loaned or borrowed. I owned my clothes and that was about it.

The interesting part about Gail is she became Mrs. Frank Zappa about a year later. But before I write about that there are a number of things that happened that are relevant to the whole story and it's factual context. I started living with Jeff and Stu Eisen up on Woodrow Wilson Dr. above LaurelCanyon. Stuie and Jeffie, as they were called, used to sell a lot of LSD and for the most part it was legal at the time. I moved into their house along with a lot of other people so I could be close to the source of acid. The trouble was that I was too close so I spent a lot of time loaded on it. It was during that time when my use of downers increased as a way to compensate for getting fried on acid a lot. It was in that house that I came in to direct contact with Arthur Lee and Johnny Echols from Love.

I used to sit on the living room floor of that house, there wasn't any furniture, and make up songs and play them. That is as close as Arthur Lee and I ever got musically. Me loaded on LSD and singing songs in that house. Another regular occurrence were the "love ins" that happened mostly at Griffith Park this was where I got to know Frank Zappa, because he'd show up just about everywhere and play. That is how he became known in the beginning. Try to imagine a time before Frank Zappa was famous that's what I'm talking about. Before the "Mothers Of Invention". Frank would show up at the Whiskey A Go Go if he could or a parking lot gig, which he did a lot. He'd just show up and play and that's how he got noticed.

I would pretty much go to all the same places so we just got used to seeing each other and started talking. I liked Frank and he liked me and we decided that we ought to make a record together, in fact we made more than one. I have to jump around here a lot, because a lot of different things all happened at the same time so I will try to be as clear as I can. After "Vietnam" Randy Wood got involved with the distribution of a new label called Penthouse Records that was started by Ken Handler and Norm Ratner. Ken Handler was the son of the people who started Mattel Toys and Norm Ratner was the son of the people who owned Troy upholstery, a well known business in LA in the 60's.

They were rich guys who wanted to be in the record business so they were. I was introduced to them through Randy Wood and Mira Records as an artist for their new Label. I guessed that Randy thought it was a way to keep me close, but have someone else pay for it and who better than a couple of eager rich kids who Randy made a deal with to distribute whatever they released. I made 2 records for Penthouse. The first was "Reconsider Baby" which I had written after hearing Percy Sledge's "When A Man Loves A Women". This is when I went to Zappa and asked him to work on the record with me he agreed without a hitch, because amongst other things Frank was a musician and an arranger.

He was a Union member and he did dates so I got Penthouse to hire Frank to work on "Reconsider Baby". Frank did everything. I played him the song and told him about the Percy Sledge record and he understood completely. He put together the band, got the girl backup singers, The Dixie Cups (I could be wrong on the name) and he wrote all the charts. He basically arranged and produced it, but received no label credit at all from Penthouse who printed on the label that the record was produced by Handler and Ratner which is bunk, they did shit.

Frank and I made the record along with the players and other singers. The record came and went like all the others, but to my surprise Penthouse didn't quit. Ken Handler said he figured he'd have to learn some things about the music business and that he wasn't going to quit just because his first record wasn't a hit. He told me he intended to be successful and that he wanted me to make another record for Penthouse and I agreed.

2009-04-10T17:31:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, MARCH 28, 2008

(part 45) "ROOGALATOR" WAY UP AND THEN WAY DOWN

As I stated, Ken Handler was the son of the Mattel Toy estate. He could do anything he wanted and what he wanted was me. He began buying me instruments, a tape recorder, amplifiers etc. He provided a small house in the valley where I could live if I wanted. He bought me a brand new BSA motor cycle to get around on. He said he was going to make me a star! I'd heard all this before so I wasn't as impressed as I would have been if it were the first time, but Handler was not all that up on my recent past history. I went along with it though, in hopes that it would lead to something concrete as opposed to just another story by someone trying to impress them self.

After Tony Alamo, it was going to be pretty hard for anyone to top his bullshit, but Ken did lay out some real money for the gear so I went along. One of my complaints, which I vocalized to both Handler and Norm Ratner, was that they had made a ridiculous mistake regarding Zappa. "Freak Out" by The Mothers had been released and had begun to make it apparent that Zappa was not just another run of the mill musician, but something special. I told them that not giving Frank any credit at all for his work on "Reconsider Baby" was about as stupid as anything they could have done. Ratner was not impressed, but Ken listened to what I was saying and took it seriously. He asked me if I thought Zappa would do another record with me and I said I'd ask him.

The name "Roogalator" was something I picked up from Johnny Rivers. Phil Turetsky, who was River's business manager had introduced us to each other along the way and Johnny liked riding motor cycles. He had a 750 Triumph and I had the 650 BSA so we started riding together. Anyway that's where I picked up the "Roogalator" thing. I believed it was similar to "mojo" like "I Got My Mojo Working." I started fiddling around with the word and told Johnny I had written a pretty good song, but never got him to record it. I think John may have written his own version, but I've never heard it.

I talked to Frank about doing another record and told him Handler was sorry for not giving him credit on "Reconsider Baby". Frank really didn't seem to care all that much about it, but I assured him he'd get credit if we did anything else. I asked Frank to listen to "Gotta Find My Roogalator" and he liked the song. He said he knew exactly who he would use on the session. Who he chose to use on "Roogalator" became known as the "Wrecking Crew". They were Louis Morell on guitar, Carol Kaye on guitar, Larry Knechtel on piano, Gene Estes on drums, and Jon Guerin or Hal Blain on drums. Frank played guitar and arranged the song. In reality, Frank and I produced the record, but of course were not given credit, but Frank was at least credited as the arranger.

We recorded it at HRT Studios and got a good sound out of the that room. Another song was cut with it which has never been released and that was my song "Girl From The East" off the Chris Lucey album. It has never been used so that is why "Low Down Funky Blues" is the b side of both "Reconsider Baby" and "Gotta Find My Roogalator". I must not have been too happy with the way "Girl From The East" came out or it would have been the b side of "Roogalator". "Low Down Funky Blues" was just a song I made up on the spot for the b side of "Reconsider Baby" when we cut that record, it got reused as the b side for "Roogalator", because we had a shortage of songs that I was willing to use. This is the best recollection I have of how that happened. Someday I will release "Girl From The East" by me and Frank.

My brother Bill, "Jamie" was staying at the house out in the valley that Ken Handler had provided. This proved to be a bad thing, because Bill was pretty isolated out there and started a downhill pattern of mental illness that eventually led to a complete psychotic break with reality causing me to have to put him in a mental hospital so he wouldn't hurt himself. This with many other things was one of the miseries of my life.

After "Gotta Find My Roogalator" was finished and scheduled for release, I had a long conversation with Ken Handler about promotion. I told him that if he didn't promote and I mean really promote "Roogalator" it was going to do exactly what "Reconsider Baby" had done, nothing. Surprisingly he agreed with me and said he wanted me to come to dinner at his house in Woodland Hills to discuss the details of what he had in mind. I immediately felt that we were on the same wave length and was eager to take him up on the invite.

I arrived at Handler's house on a Sunday afternoon, by myself and was greeted by his pregnant wife who was busy in the kitchen preparing food. Ken asked me if I wanted a drink and I said, "Yeah, a scotch and water." He made me a drink and asked if it were ok and I told him it was fine. He said, "Let's go upstairs to my office and talk about our plans for your future." "Wow," I thought, "This is going to be alright." I followed Ken upstairs as he yelled to his wife we were going to the office for awhile. She yelled back, "Ok" and we continued on to a small room on the second floor that had been furnished like an office.

"Go on in Bobby," he said, and I went into the room followed by Ken. He closed the door and stood there smiling at me for a moment and then said, "I'd like you to spend the night here Bobby." I looked at him closely and said, "Why, what'd you have in mind?" He said, "I want you to stay here with me." I was all of a sudden in a different world. He was asking me to sleep with him. "Well Ken, I appreciate the compliment, but that's not my thing." I said. He looked at me almost hurt in his expression and said, "Is that final?" I said, "Yeah pretty much Ken, that's final." "No chance that you'd change your mind in the future," he asked? "I don't think so Ken, sorry." "Well that's too bad Bobby, because my plans for you really depended on what you said at this meeting and you've been very clear." said Ken. "Yeah I'm pretty clear on this Ken, pretty damn clear." "Well you realize then." he said, "That my plans for you will have to change now." "I got it." I said. "I got it."

Ken just stood there looking at me with that, you can still change your mind look. When I heard myself say, "Well I guess I better get going eh?" As I opened the door to leave Ken said, "Bobby you know the things I bought for you will all have to be returned in light of our conversation here." "Yeah ok Ken, I'll make sure to bring all the stuff to your office at Mira." I said, wanting to punch his ass out at that point. "I'll make sure you get it all back." I stumbled down the stairs and looked for the front door not wanting to be in that house a second more than I had to. "Honey, Bobby can't stay for dinner this time, something important has come up." he yelled to his wife. "Oh that's too bad," she said back... I was out the door and said nothing. I remember the feeling, it was getting to be a habit, it was getting to be my life. Way up and then way down...way up and then way down...way up and........

2009-04-10T17:15:00.001-07:00

MONDAY, MARCH 31, 2008

(part 46) MATTEL TOYS, KEN HANDLER AND MY RIGHTS

So once again I did the right thing and the wrong thing happened. It was getting to be a world of backwards reality. It wasn't like I was screwing up back then. I did my work, but the outcome always seemed to depend on somebody else's agenda. Ever since Tony Alamo every thing I did came out like this. I didn't care if Ken Handler was gay, hell I'd been around plenty of gay people, the music business and places I'd been had plenty of that it was just a fact of life. The problem was that Ken Handler had a lot of power, because he was rich and was the son of the Mattel Toys family. He didn't have a damn thing to worry about he was covered no matter what he did.

I on the other hand was trying to do something with my life and get it up off the ground at 20 years old. I was misled by Handler and didn't find out about it until the last minute. He forced me to choose between giving him what he wanted, to get what I wanted, or to give up what I wanted, because I was unwilling to give him what he wanted. To him, I was little more than a piece of ass as it turned out, but to me it was my whole world at that particular point. It wouldn't have mattered if it were a man and a girl or a women and a boy or whatever configuration you could come up with, it was a chicken shit thing to do to anybody and that anybody was me.

I brought all of the gear Ken had bought me back to Penthouse Records at Mira's offices. The attitude of Handler was one of someone who placed himself above everyone else though I had not seen this part of him until I returned the equipment to him. He barely had time to acknowledge my presence as I recall and asked the whereabouts of the motor cycle. "I'm not giving it to you Ken, I'm gonna keep it cause I earned it." He started to object and I got very cold with him and said, "I'm keeping it Ken and that's all there is to it." I stared at him until he figured out that I was not kidding and I'm sure that he got to see a part of me that he had not been familiar with until that day. Anything said after that moment was pushed aside by me and I retained my position and made it clear that neither he, or Randy Wood, or anyone else would get me to change my mind regarding my keeping the motor cycle as some sort of payment for my work and time.

I had not been paid for "Reconsider Baby" or "Gotta Find My Roogalator" so keeping the bike seemed reasonable to me then, hell I should have kept everything. I had experienced too many losses at the hands of others in the past couple of years to just keep standing around at the end with absolutely nothing except whatever record I had made and the experience. I was tired of the Tony Alamo, Andrew Oldham, and Randy Wood's of the world so Ken became the first one I took something from. I took it and challenged him to do something about it and he did not, it was one small victory.

No one will ever convince me that in light of what the facts were as they relate to Ken Handler and myself that any contract I may have signed with Penthouse Records could be enforced. He and Penthouse dropped me and failed to fulfill even the most minimal obligations as a record label and or publisher. In a court of law I would dominate on law and facts alone, not to say anything about the fraud perpetrated on me personally by Ken Handler, regarding his sexual demands or else position. I was in a no win position and my choices amounted to non choices, as usual I had no leverage. I claim all rights to my songs "Low Down Funky Blues", "Gotta Find My Roogalator", and "Reconsider Baby".

I don't recall with great clarity, following the Penthouse fiasco, what Randy Wood's position regarding me was. I was probably blamed by everyone for screwing the whole thing up, because what I found was people won't take responsibility for their own actions. It has taken me many years to realize that many of the calamities in my past were brought about by the actions of others, at least in part. I have paid enough dues for these assholes and am determined to someday set the entire record straight. I have no plans to sit by and allow forever others to claim ownership of what I created and to profit from my work while I get nothing.

2009-04-10T00:54:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, APRIL 1, 2008

(part47) OLD DOGS LIKE ME

Excellent! Either my last post was completely uninteresting or I said something of an unacceptable nature. It doesn't matter I'm not trying to win a popularity contest I'm trying to tell a story. I am not trying to win you over or get you to agree with me. It occurs to me at times as I am remembering all this that I spent the last 40 some years blaming myself for everything that happened to me in the 60's. What I am learning, as I go, is that a lot of what transpired had nothing to do with me screwing it up. Don't get me wrong, I do a whole lot to screw me up later. My point here is that I always came up with the goods. I had the songs and I recorded them, how that was dealt with by record labels and music publishers was pretty much out of my hands.

I was 19 and 20 years old at the time this all took place. I had no power or control over anything except writing and singing the songs. From 1964 through 1966 I wrote and or recorded 7 or 8 singles and 2 albums. I'm So Lonely/I Wanna Love You, Okey Fanokey Baby/Meadow Green, All I Want Is My Baby/Each And Every Day, Rum Pum Mum Num/I Wanna Know, Please Mr. Mailman/I Wanna Know, Chris Lucey "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest", Vietnam/Metropolitan Man, Reconsider Baby/Low Down Funky Blues, Gotta Find My Roogalator/Low Down Funky Blues, All Alone/Your Sweet Lovin and Jameson "Color Him In".

For all that, I received $250 and a $650 BSA motorcycle. Both albums and 4 of the singles were written and recorded in less than the period of a year from the end of 65 to the end of 66. Although I was using drugs and drinking they had not done to me at that time what they later did which was to completely and utterly destroy my life. From 1964 through 1968 I always showed up and I always did my work what was done with that work was under the control of others. What is becoming clear to me is that the basis for my later complete freakout started earlier and that is what I am relating in these pages.

A growing frustration that occurred over a number of years and culminated into a very different person than the one who started out writing songs and singing for the fun of it. If you think I am attempting to heap blame on others you're goddamn right I am, as much as possible, but if you think that I am not willing to heap blame on myself you're wrong. I, in the long run will eat by experience every single disaster that is the history of Bobby Jameson/Chris Lucey. I have not escaped any of the blame and or criticism that goes with being me. I have lived with all of this and still do for over 4 decades.

You cannot know, other than me relating to you, what it has been like and remains as such to this day. I have nothing to show for my work other than the work itself, I live in poverty. I am not saying that for effect I live and have lived in poverty for a very long time. I have a computer, my very first one, because a bootleg record company sent me a $1,000 when they illegally released "Color Him In" about a year ago, thank god they did and they're the only one. I sit at this computer and break my ass and my head to recall and articulate the facts as best I can. I am not interested in anything other than putting forward, for the first time, my side of my story.

I have been asked what I expect to achieve or gain from this and I have answered nothing, nothing at all except to know in my own mind that Bobby Jameson"s version of Bobby Jameson's past has finally been put somewhere where a small bit of attention may be given to a story that has been so taken out of context that I could no longer sit by and accept it. My belief is that someone will probably steal what I am writing and give me no credit. That is the world I live in. I am so sure that I will never gain anything from anything that I have done that it is now second nature to me. Maybe you think that's why things go wrong in my life, because I expect them to, I accept that. But old dogs like me find it hard to trust humans, because those humans have beaten old dogs like me. I am not interested in a better philosophy I'm interested in better people.

2009-04-09T23:17:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 2, 2008

(part 48) "ALL ALONE" and "THE MONKEES" WHAT NEXT?

The next record was "All Alone" on Current Records. The company was run and partially owned by one Mike Goldberg. After Penthouse I went outside of Randy Wood's reach and signed a 1 record deal with Current. I was given label credit for arranging, as well as writer and artist and it was a good record. I cut that record in a couple of hours one afternoon and never knew the names of those who played on it. I am sorry for that, because they did a hell of a good job. J. Fisher is listed as producer and I have vague memories of who that is. It may be that J. Fisher is also playing guitar, I don't know. After the record was cut nothing was done with it. There it was and that was it. I went in to Goldberg's office and asked him why nothing was being done with the record?

He told me all the reactions by LA radio were negative and there wasn't much he could do about it. I had signed a contract that was going to tie me up for a minimum of 1 year and there was nothing he could do about it. I told him that was no good for me and asked him to release me from the contract which he said he could not do. I recall getting mad at him almost immediately, because this was just one more bullshit hangup in a long list of hangups, where my well being was involved. He finally said he'd let me out of the contract if I paid him for the cost of the session. Great! I was broke, as usual, and this guy wanted me to pay for my own session to let me out of a contract that he's using to hang me up. He won't work the record so it's dead and I gotta pay him to get out, man!

I was so pissed off I couldn't see straight. This guy had sweet talked me into signing the goddamn thing in the first place now he wanted money to let me out, cause he isn't doing his job and promoting the record. It wasn't that it was a whole lot of money, $500 or $600, but for me that was a lot. I had met a women named Carol Paulus who I still know to this day and she gave me the money to get out of that contract. The record says lightswitch Music is the publisher, but I will challenge that on similar grounds to those involving Penthouse and other claims by various publishers.

Record labels and publishers are bound, at least minimally, to do something more than record a song and publish it and then sit on it. A contract is between various parties and each party has some sort of obligation to perform some duty to make the contract binding. I challenge Current Records and Lightswitch Music on that basis. I would also like to see the contract again, because my belief is that it would be found to be insufficient as a legal document. Therefore I will again claim all rights to my songs, "All Alone" and "Your Sweet Lovin".

That's 4 singles in a row that I wrote and recorded for 3 different companies in a matter of months. In each case I was promised something which I never received. Mostly that those who were signing me were promising to do the best job possible with each record. This by no means was ever the case. In each of these circumstances the records were recorded by me using my songs. The records were basically shelved by those labels while their publishing arm claimed in each case the rights to my songs. It is because of this practice that I feel each of these agreements must be challenged at this time.

Back at Mira Records, Phill Turetsky was watching this absurdity unfold for months. He finally got me away from everyone and told me that he wanted to try and get me something more legitimate than what had gone on previously. I was surprised by this and welcomed Phil's involvement in my life knowing that Phil was Johnny Rivers business manager. The first thing he did was tell me about a new TV show that was being planned called "The Monkees" which he believed I had a real shot at. I was pretty much overwhelmed by this news and told him I was very interested. He told me that Burt Schneider and Bob Raphelson, at Columbia had based their idea for "The Monkees" on "The Beatles" movie "A Hard Days Night" so you know how excited I must have been about doing it.

A meeting was set up and I was scheduled to meet with the producers at Columbia. It seems to me that Phil Turetsky had intervened for whatever purpose in the black comedy he'd been viewing concerning the career of Bobby Jameson. I guess he thought that he could do a better job than what he'd watched others do without success.

I arrived at Columbia Studios down on Gower St. in Hollywood I think and was ushered right in without any trouble, that in itself was different from what I'd been getting used to. I met Raphelson and Schneider right off and then David Jones who had already been chosen as the first "Monkee". They were all extremely nice and very excited about meeting me it was a very positive experience. I asked if the show was really going to be as hip as "A Hard Days Night" and they assured me it would be that hip, but from the very beginning I kind of got the feeling that it was going to be exactly the way it turned out to be, kind of lame.

2009-04-09T23:04:00.000-07:00

(part 49) ZAPPA, GAIL AND BOBBY JAMESON

I had taken to going up to Zappa's house in Laurel Canyon and writing songs on his living room floor after Frank's and my attempts at making records together. Most of what I wrote up there became a lot of the stuff used in the making of "Color Him In" though at the time I had no idea that would be the case. I just liked hanging around with Frank cause all either of us did was work all the time. We didn't talk a lot because we were busy most of the time and were both pretty comfortable with that arrangement.

But on one particular day Frank did want to talk and it was about my girlfriend Gail. Gail use to go with me to Frank's and just hang out while we were doing stuff. I knew she and Frank got along real well and that was fine with me, but that afternoon when he asked if he could talk to me about something that was different than all the times Frank and I had been together. I could tell that it was something very important to him so I really gave it my full attention. Like I said, it was about Gail. I could see he was having a tough time getting to the point and realized it was because he didn't feel too comfortable bringing up the subject.

"I know Gail's your girlfriend," he said, "but I wanted to know how serious you were about her?" "I don't know Frank, I just kind a hang around with her you know. I don't think I'm too serious about her other than we just hang around together, why?" "Well," said Frank, "I really like her and I don't want to create any problems for you, so I thought I better talk to you about it and..." "Hey man, no problem. if that's all it is don't worry about it. You can do whatever you want. I'm not gonna be bothered by it, really" I said. Frank stared at me for a second or two and then said,"really?" "Really man," I said, "it's ok. If you like her and she likes you then whatever you guys decide is fine with me." He seemed immediately relieved and that was all that was ever said about it.

Gail was staying with me up at the house on Woodrow Wilson Dr. where all the LSD was being sold. I don't think I ever remember Gail getting loaded much she just happened to be around people like me who did. I had a bedroom at the house with a bathroom attached that was pretty much across the hall from the front door. On one particular night Gail was in the bedroom lying or sitting on the bed and I had gone into the bathroom to write. I used to sit up on the sink, it was big, and lean against the wrap around mirrors in there and write lyrics. On this one night I'd dropped some acid and was waiting for it to kick in. As I noticed the first waves of being loaded flooding in I heard this loud pounding on the front door which was about 12 or 15 feet from where I was sitting.

The next thing I heard was a huge crash coming from the hall outside the bathroom where I was now beginning to hallucinate. I jumped off the sink and went through the door connected to the bedroom where Gail was standing at attention it appeared and staring wide eyed at something. The look on her face was fear, but I didn't know about what. I was hallucinating so much at that point I couldn't figure out what was going on. I heard something like yelling, but I couldn't make out what it was or where it was coming from. I just kept moving around the room trying to put the pieces together when all of a sudden I heard clearly, "Stop moving or I'm going to kill you," the voice yelled. I looked in the direction of the sound and directly into the barrel of a 12 guage police riot gun which was aimed directly at my face.

The guy with the shotgun was shaking and screaming trying to get me to quit moving. If you can imagine, try to think what a 12 guage shotgun barrel looks like while your on acid. All of a sudden reality slammed back into my consciousness. We were in the middle of a drug bust and this guy was an undercover plain clothes narc! Fuck! What a trip! I was hallucinating on acid and was in the middle of a drug bust with a guy about to shoot me and I finally stopped moving. I stood deadly still at that point and glanced at Gail, who looked like she was gonna have a heart attack. This was one of the worst nights of my life and I'm sure Gail's too and it went on for hours while about 14 cops went through everything in that house. I sat handcuffed on the floor and just tried to keep remembering what was happening and that I was on a drug. I kept saying to myself over and over again, "Don't lose it Bobby, don't freak out or these guy's are gonna kill you. Keep it together man, keep it together." I think that was the last time I saw Gail until the 70's, when I ran into her and Frank at a recording studio she was then Gail Zappa and wanted nothing to do with me.

2009-04-09T22:53:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, APRIL 4, 2008

(part 50) WELL I DON'T GIVE A DAMN, NEXT STOP IS VIETNAM

The war in Vietnam was really starting to get out of control in 1966, and I was scheduled to be drafted into the army at any moment. There I was, trying to get my life to make sense while worrying about getting sent to Vietnam. The "Monkees" thing was still on, and I was still trying to get over being in my first major drug bust, which was as fresh as wet paint in my mind. I had to sit in jail for 3 days, thinking my life was as good as over, when out of nowhere I was just kicked loose without explanation.

To this day I'm not sure what happened, but I figure the police had done something wrong, like not get a search warrant, or violated some other provision of the law. LSD had been legal, but somewhere along the line in 65 they had written new legislation, and I guess it kicked in sometime in 1966. I learned to pay far more attention to things like that after my arrest. Everybody had heard about it, but because I was out on the street, and it was the 60's, it didn't cause that much trouble. What I'm saying is, that I was not avoided by anybody or blacklisted because of it. It didn't effect my position for example as a possible "Monkee".

My draft date came, and I was ordered to show up at the draft board and the military. I had no choice, and I hadn't come up with anyway to get out of it, so I just had to show up on the date specified, and that's what I did. I stood out like a sore thumb. I attracted negative attention from the wrong people, as soon as I walked through the door. "Well who the hell are you bright eyes, one of the goddamn Beatles?" This was a question hurled at me, amongst others, as soon as I arrived. I tried to hide myself in the crowd, which was large and not get noticed so much. I looked around at all these young guys of every color and description and it was not a pretty picture.

Each one seemed to be terrified on the inside, but trying hard to put on a brave face on the outside. I knew I was scared, hell I just didn't want to go to Vietnam period. I knew I'd get shot, or shoot someone on our side, for ordering me around. I was as piss poor at taking orders as anyone you've ever met. We were ordered to remove our clothes down to our underwear, and then put through a bunch of arbitrary jumping jacks, for what purpose I'm not sure, maybe just humiliation. It was similar to what had been done after I was arrested and there didn't seem to be much of a difference. I stood in line while a Drill Instructor screamed at us. I tried desperately to think of some way to get my ass out of the situation I was in. It was then that I heard the D. I. say, "Has anyone here been arrested in the last 6 months for a narcotics violation?"

I looked around the room and up and down the lines of these 300 or so guys, and didn't see a single hand go up. The whole room was silent and everybody else was doing the same thing, looking around to see if anyone was stupid enough to raise their hand. "Me," I said, as my hand went up. "I was arrested for drugs." All eyes were glued on me. "You what?" the D. I. screamed. "What the fuck makes you stupid enough to raise your goddamned hand and admit to a chicken shit thing like that you asshole?" I was scared, but responded to him saying, "You asked if anyone had been arrested and I had, so I told you."

The Drill Instructor looked at me in utter disbelief. The whole room was completely silent. "Why you cowardly little shit, you see this yellow line on the floor asshole?" he screamed. "Yes Sir I do," I said. "Well I want you to follow that yellow line where ever it goes until you can't go any further. Do you understand me asshole?" he shrieked. "Yes Sir," I said. "Well then move your ass and get out of my sight you goddamned little coward." I pulled on my pants, and hauled ass along the root of the yellow line. It went on for a long way. It was a big building in downtown L A. I walked Down halls and up a flight of stairs, and down some more halls until it stopped outside the door of an office. I figured I was supposed to knock on the door so I did.

A voice yelled from inside for me to enter, so I opened the door slowly and looked in. It was a tiny dark office with a desk and that's about it. Behind the desk was seated another guy in uniform who ordered me inside, and who had a similar personality problem as the guy who'd sent me there. This one wanted every detail about my arrest that I could give him, and he was just plain pissed off at me. I filled him in on the details of my arrest, and then he basically kicked my ass out and said I'd be notified by mail of a decision regarding my military status. That was it! I left the building and I was the only one who did. Every one of those other guys was still there when I left. I have always wondered about it, why I was out and they were in? I didn't know whether to be grateful or guilty.

Months later I received a letter from the government telling me that I had been reclassified as 1-Y. I didn't know what that meant so I had to find someone who did. After a long search, I found someone who knew about such things, and asked them what 1-Y meant? They said, "It's a National Security deferment." "Well what the fuck does that mean?" I asked. "It means that if the Russians attack Long Beach they'll take you, otherwise you're out." "You mean I don't have to go to Vietnam?" I asked. "Right! You don't have to go to Vietnam."

2009-04-09T22:44:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 9, 2008

(part 51) "THE 2ND MONKEE, LONG HAIR AND THE 60'S"

Each one of these posts and the content is written with a purpose. I do not talk about being busted or my drug use and who was with me just for the hell of it. Each part played a critical role in what actually transpired in the scheme of things and what occurred over time. For example, if I had not been busted for drugs, I surely would have gone to Vietnam. That fact that Gail Sloatman, Franks eventual wife, was with me will again play a specific role in how things turned out.

I went back to Columbia to participate in the planning of the "Monkees". David Jones and I went with someone from Columbia to "The Ashgrove, a folk club in Hollywood in the 60's. There was always new talent there and so we went to scout out other potential "Monkee" candidates. I was beginning to notice that what they expected of me was to be that shiny faced "pop star" personality that I had learned to dread in England. I had started growing a beard and my hair was getting longer and there were hints that they wanted me cleaned up.

It sounds like a small thing, but at the time I was extremely reluctant to be once again guided to a personality that was not really my own. A lot of things had happened to me in the past couple of years that had changed me. I was not so trusting and naive as I had once been and to me it was a form of protection to decide for myself who I was, rather than have that critical point determined by others. This began to push and pull me in two different directions at the same time. I knew I would benefit in a lot of ways if I became one of the "Monkees", but I also felt that being true to myself at that point was of equal importance, at least to me if to no one else.

I spoke to Phil Turetsky about it because he had gotten me the original audition for "The Monkees". He didn't make a big deal about it in fact he said he had someone else he wanted me to meet who was looking for a new artist who wrote their own songs to record an album with. His name was Steve Clark and he had a production company called "OUR PRODUCTIONS" that had a hit with "The Association" and the song "And Along Comes Mary" which I was familiar with. He told me that Steve had a genius kid he was working with named Curt Boettcher and thought I might get along with him real well. A time was set up for me to meet with Clark at his office in the tower at Sunset Blvd. and Vine, in Hollywood.

I had a lot of songs at that point, because like I said, I had done a lot of writing at Zappa's house and the other house where the bust occurred. Phil told me that Steve Clark was about as easy to get along with as anyone I'd ever meet. This was a good thing, because I was having trouble with the endless personalities and ego's of record executives and wanna be producers. I was leery at that point about who I met and how I would react to them. I was, needless to say, somewhat edgier than I had been earlier. I think at that point in my life I had a lot of frustration, anger, and disappointment bottled up inside me and was kind of a walking time bomb in the making. I used drugs and alcohol to steer myself in a particular direction. Drugs and alcohol were working for me at that point and had become a prominent part of my new personality.

I think I have to remind myself and possibly the reader, that this was the 60's. Everything was alive and electric. Things moved at a ridiculously fast pace. For a growing number of people drugs were not negative they were part of the mind alteration and a new philosophy and social understanding. Drugs were part of the mind expansion and new sense of freedom that was sweeping across America and the world and I was determined, in my own mind, to be at the front of the battle lines. These brave words nearly killed me in the end, but at the time they were deeply and sincerely felt by myself and an ever growing number of others world wide.

I still believe that the 60's did more to change the world than anything I have ever seen or heard about. I'm sure there are those who would agree, but believe that most of those changes were negative. Even though I was as much a victim as a survivor of those times, I believe that I also learned some of my most important lessons from those years. I am even now looking for the kind of openness and peace that many pursued with an earnest back then. The world would be a far better place than it has become with a whole lot more peace and love than now exists. Hippie girls to me were the most lovely of all creatures I have ever met. Every now and then I see someone who is that picture in my mind and I am instantly returned to the Sunset Strip, Griffith Park and the 60's.

2009-04-09T22:23:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, APRIL 11, 2008

(part 52) STEVE CLARK, CURT BOETTCHER AND BOBBY JAMESON

In 1966 I was at a crossroads in my life. The war in Vietnam was heating up in a big way and was taking it's toll on America with the split between anti war forces and pro war forces. Many of the arguments of today, I heard then and they were as wrong back then as they are now. There's one reason to leave and a thousand reasons to stay. It takes a lot of guts to leave, but it is the only way to allow what is going to happen to happen and then heal. In the 60's it was the same, and the streets of West Hollywood and Hollywood saw their share of huge violent street demonstrations against the "Vietnam War".

I don't think I missed one of them in all the time they occurred. I knew in my heart that I had been spared by being busted for drugs, but I couldn't just forget about Vietnam simply because I didn't have to go. Sometimes on the "Strip" guys just out of boot camp would show up to beat up on "hippies" who they regarded as "pinko commie fags". We actually had a gang of people who were always ready to go at it with these guys when this occurred so there was a lot of street fighting in the middle to late 60's over the war.

At the intersection of Crescent Heights Bvld. and Sunset Blvd. there was an island in the middle of the street. This is where "Pandora's Box" was located. Across the street from that was the "5th Estate" another well known 60's coffee house and "hippie" hangout. We fought with 1,000 LA cops and sheriff's officers there one night over the war and curfew's and loitering laws so it would make sense to keep this in mind when thinking back to all that the 60's offered. There were real people with real ideas about important things that swept this country into turmoil then. It was by no means a musical drugged out dreamworld only. The drugs and music were ever present but so was a lot of other stuff that represented the dynamics of the time.

I showed up at the Vine Tower to meet Steve Clark and Curt Boettcher at the arranged time and was unsure of what to expect. I had been told by Phil Turetsky, as I said, that Steve was an easy guy to get along with and that turned out to be the exact truth maybe a little too easy to get along with. None the less, I was welcomed into Steve Clark's world of OUR PRODUCTIONS as a long lost child and felt immediately at home in those surroundings. I told him about the "Monkees" thing I was up for and that I was going to have to make a decision about it pretty soon. He asked what was holding me back and I told him I was somewhat reluctant to end up a TV "bubble gummer" no matter how good it sounded.

Steve was somewhat aware of my past and asked about the Billboard ads and Tony Alamo. He was also interested in the fact that I'd recorded with Mick Jagger in London. We talked for awhile about my goals in the music business and then he told me he wanted me to meet with Curt who was waiting in another office. I waited while Steve went to round up Curt Boettcher and tried to anticipate what he would be like. When Curt showed up at the door and said, "Hi!" I knew that he was nothing like I'd envisioned. He was not an arrogant record guy at all. He was small and fragile looking like "Peter Pan" and had one of the most friendly interested smiles I had ever encountered.

He introduced himself and I returned the introduction of myself to him as we shook hands. His voice was almost like a child, but filled with interest and respect. He spoke to me as if he were thrilled to be there and appeared to relish every moment of the time we spent together that day. He asked about my music and I told him the best way for me to explain it was to play it for him which he was eager for me to do. We sat in that office for an hour or more while I played him song after song that I'd written in the past year or so.

There was nothing that I played for him that he didn't like. From "Jamie" to "See Dawn" and "Candy Colored Dragon" etc., he was just pleased about what he heard coming out of my mouth. He said, "We have to work together." "I can already hear the arrangements for everything your playing," he said. He was like some frantic genius in full animation in front of me. His excitement was catching and I began to get excited right along with him. I seemed to know at that moment that Curt and I were fated to work with each other from that time on and that OUR PRODUCTIONS would be my new home and Curt and Steve Clark my new best friends. When Steve finally came back to join us he could see how well Curt and I were hitting it off. "I guess every things OK eh?" He asked. "Every things wonderful," said Curt, "better than wonderful!"

There were a lot of details to work out before our new arrangement became a reality. I told Steve that I hadn't made a penny up until then and that I was bound and determined to get paid something before I said OK to any more record deals. He asked what I was talking about money wise and I told him I wanted a $100 a week for a minimum of a year. This may sound like a very small sum now, but from where I was coming from then $100 a week for me was a fortune. Steve looked at me and smiled a big "Dennis The Menace" smile, that's what Steve looked like, a 250 lb huge "Dennis The Menace" and said, "I don't think that's a problem."

2009-04-09T22:09:00.000-07:00

MONDAY, APRIL 14, 2008

(part 53) CURT BOETTCHER AND BOBBY JAMESON, THE MAKING OF COLOR HIM IN

From bobby jameson

The telling of the story, regarding the making of "Color Him In is different than the previous stories in that this particular record was more specific in it's intention than the other previous recordings I had made, with the exception of "Vietnam/Metropolitan Man". It was begun in 1966 just prior to the "Summer Of Love" time period in 1967, which has been well regarded as a central time frame and theme of the 60's. "Color Him In" was a psychedelic work of the times. Much of what is on the recording was inspired by LSD, Vietnam, the Peace Movement and the overall context of "Freedom From The Establishment" as it were.

It was basically a concept album. Songs like "See Dawn" deal with duality "what goes up must come down." "See dawn see dawn the setting sun" which attempts to look at things from opposite ends of a single spectrum. These pairs of opposites run throughout the work. Curt Boettcher was delighted by these kinds of things. My lyrics and melodies, according to Curt at the time, were like a playground for his arrangements. He would take the demos I made of me and a guitar and arrange vocal harmonies and instrumentation around them. He would come up with entire arrangements based on a specific lick of mine such as "Jamie", which was a piano chord progression I used in writing the song.

Curt built the progression into the dominate sound of the song. He didn't just have a chord progression to follow he made the progression stand out as a specific feature of the entire recording itself. The album was recorded entirely at Columbia or CBS Studios on Sunset Blvd. in Hollywood. These were very up to date studios in the 60's when we worked there and were entirely engineered by Union Engineers at the time. This was problematic not only for Curt Boettcher, but others such as Brian Wilson. These guys, Curt and Brian were better than the Engineers that were running the equipment, but the rule was only the Union Engineers could run things so what you had was two young genius's telling these old farts what to do and how to do it. It was a problem, but it also helped change things in the long run.

The cover art for "Color Him In" was thought up by Steve Clark and that cover has always stood out in a crowd. I have had people say they didn't really like the record, but they loved the cover. Another problem we encountered was that Curt was also finishing up an album with "The Association" who were trying to produce themselves and arguing with Curt all the time about who had the final say. So as you can see we were never just concentrating on one thing. We were always arranging time to suit numerous demands made by several different entities.

Staying for a moment with problems involved in the making of this record, We were constantly up against the money clock. We always had a limited amount of time to do everything. Steve would tell us ok you've got 3 hours of studio time on thursday to get something started or finished and we never really knew when these times were available until the last minute so it was always under stress that most of the work was done. Curt was surrounded by people who all became friends of mine such as Micelle O Malley, Jim Bell, and Lee Mallory. Fans of Curt Boettcher will readily know these names from other Boettcher works. At one point I moved into a house with all of these people and we tried living together, but it proved too difficult in the long run.

Too many dominate personalities in one place. Working together was one thing living together was another. Curt and I were very close friends while we worked on "Color Him In". We were never anymore or less than friends so those of you who are familiar with Curt's personal life can put your wonderings away. Curt and I were good friends. We liked working together and we inspired each other. We created a record in the 60's called "Color Him In". I have much more to tell you about the making of this record and the people who made it possible, but for now, I have set up a pretty fair groundwork for the telling of that story.

Before I go on with the "Color Him In" saga, I must tie up some loose ends regarding the other things that were occurring at the same time, such as what about "The Monkees"? I had to go to Phil Turetsky and tell him of my decision to go with Steve Clark and Curt Boettcher rather than become a "Monkee". Phil, who was extremely easy going, took it all in stride and said he'd figured that that would be my decision so he wasn't surprised. He told me that either one would have been the right one and that it was important that I felt comfortable with my choice rather than do what others thought I should do and be miserable. I thanked Phil profusely for his help at getting me pointed in the right direction and told him that without his help I would have just continued doing one thing after another without ever getting anywhere. He assured me it was his pleasure and kind of hinted that he wanted to keep being involved which was OK by me. He said he'd make sure that Columbia was notified about my decision to pass on "The Monkees" television show.

2009-04-09T21:32:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16, 2008

(part 54) "MY MUSIC IS WHERE I'VE BEEN" Jameson '67

Steve Clark was one of the funniest guys I ever meant, he was also an alcoholic and a gambler. The fact that he had some success with a number of hit records allowed him to pursue his habits openly, no one really questions you when you're doing well. When Steve agreed to pay me a $100. a week, it was for song writing. I became a SINCE MUSIC writer and that's what I got a weekly sum of money for. Since Music was the name of Steve's publishing company, at the time, and I wrote a lot of songs for him. All of what's on "Color Him In" is listed with BMI as published by SINCE MUSIC which is now defunct and Steve Clark is dead.

I learned to drink on a daily basis with Steve, I mean really drink. He would drink at lunch in a place called "The Room At The Top" which was on the very top of the building where OUR PRODUCTIONS and SINCE MUSIC had their offices. I hung out a lot with Steve, so if he drank I drank. It wasn't like he set out to make me an alcoholic he just drank a lot and so I drank with him. At the end of the day it was back up to "The Room At The Top" for cocktails and snacks. We did this every day 5 days a week for a couple of years.

As you can begin to see I had two distinctly different relationships going with two entirely different kinds of people. Curt on the one hand, who was gentle and creative and Steve on the other, who was a heavy weight drinker and all business. This paradox of personalities placed me directly in the middle of a strange tug of war that, at times, caused me great confusion. I was still only 20 years old when I entered into the world of CURT BOETTCHER and STEVE CLARK and was about to learn a whole lot of stuff about a whole lot of things.

One of the high points of my life was coming into contact with certain musicians that played on "Color Him In". Jerry Scheff, who is one of the world's great bass players was on "Color Him In" and a number of other recording I made. He is one of the very best human beings I ever met in my life and that never changed. Ben Benay, a world class guitar player for all time was another who did all the tracks on the album. I have worked on more records with Ben Benay over the years than any other musician I have ever known.

Mike Henderson played sax and did some keyboard work on a lot of the album. Toxi French drums. Jim troxell drums. Mike Deasy guitar. Butch Parker an assortment of instruments. Jim Bell oboe, horns and vocals. Michelle O Malley vocals. Lee Mallory guitar and vocals and of course Curt who arranged everything and played a slew of instruments and put together all the background harmonies and basically ran the show. The choice of songs used on the album was for the most part up to me and Curt, but there was input from Steve and others if they had any strong views on songs and or arrangements.

In a lot of ways it was pretty democratic when you get right down to it. These people all had a say if they felt strongly about something involving the making of this record. For example "I Love You More Than You Know" was a good doo wop song. Everybody liked it and liked playing on it so it ended up on the album. "Candy Colored Dragon" is a lot like Curt, like a child, who was visiting dreamland. Curt was "Peter Pan". If you listen to the song "Right By My Side" you can hear the track playing backwards in part of the song. This was something Curt and I borrowed from The Beatles and used on "Right By My Side".

"New Age" is a song I fought to put on the album against everybody's advice. I arranged and produced that song for the album. If you listen to my vocal you will notice that I have copied ARTHUR LEE'S vocal style from LOVE'S recording of "LITTLE RED BOOK". That was the only time I borrowed from LOVE and I am proud of it. "Do You Believe In Yesterday" is another one of the LSD inspired tunes that arose out of Universal questions of life and death. "Do you believe in yesterday and everything she gave you?" "Do you believe that anything can ever really save you from dying? Again, this album was inspired, rightly or wrongly, by the questions raised by the era of the 60's.

Everything in the world was being questioned all of the time. The war in Vietnam. The social structure of the entire country and for that matter, the whole world. Sex was accepted by the young as a good thing as opposed to going to Vietnam and killing people. I have read where people have made fun of what was printed on the back cover of "COLOR HIM IN", stating how foolish it sounded to say that "My music is where I have been, what I have seen, how I feel, and who I am. but I'll tell you that was the truth for me. It was where I'd been, what I'd seen, how I felt, and who I was in 1966-67.

2009-04-09T21:25:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY, APRIL 17, 2008

(part 55) "THE PLACES, TIMES AND THE PEOPLE"

SO MANY THINGS TO REMEMBER
AND SO MANY MORE TO FORGET
AND ALL THAT I REMEMBER
IS ALL THAT I'M TRYING TO FORGET

THE PLACES TIMES AND THE PEOPLE
A TANGLE OF MISFORTUNE I HAVE FOUND
LORD THE EAGLE CRIES HIGH ABOVE THE STEEPLE
TO THE PLACES TIMES AND PEOPLE ON THE GROUND

WHEN WILL THE PEOPLE
GO WHERE THEY'RE GOIN'
WHEN WILL THEY ALL COME BACK
THE PLACES THEY GO TO
THE TIME THAT IT TAKES THEM
MAYBE THEY'LL NEVER COME BACK

STANDIN' LOOKIN' OUT OF MY WINDOW
THE RAIN IS LIKE THE TEARDROPS I HAVE CRIED
LORD THERE'S NOTHIN' BUT A ROOM AND A WINDOW
AND THE TIMES IN THE PAST I HAVE TRIED

THE PLACES TIMES AND THE PEOPLE
A TANGLE OF MISFORTUNE I HAVE FOUND
AND THE EAGLE CRIES HIGH ABOVE THE STEEPLE
TO THE PLACES TIMES AND PEOPLE ON THE GROUND

Robert Parker Jameson 1966-67

This song as much as anything on "Color Him In" clarifies the questions of the times and the possible futility felt by many of the people, such as myself, who looked out across America and tried to explain the "Vietnam War" and their displeasure with what the "Establishment" was doing. It also is one of the pure reflections of myself personally, at the time, and my growing distaste with the world I saw before me. Coupled with the song "Jamie" which I wrote about and to my brother Bill, who had gone insane earlier in 1966, these 2 songs exemplified for me a bitterness toward fate and the questions I had regarding the stupidity of the war and my purpose on the planet.

The loss, to mental illness, of my brother Bill was a cruel reality that still haunts me today and has always been a source of anger for me. "Jamie" was a futile attempt, by me, to call my brother back from insanity and see him as whole once again. "Jamie", his nickname, was the most important song on "Color Him In" when the album was being recorded. I tried to believe, that if I could just will it hard enough, it would bring him back to reality.

2009-04-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, APRIL 18, 2008

(part 56) "COLOR HIM IN", THE FINAL MIX.

Making "Color Him In" was an act of love as well as being frustrating. All the potential in the world was there, but the frustration of always being dominated by the money clock, was a pain in the ass. We couldn't work when we were ready, we had to work when the time was available. I know I have already stated this, but it deserves repeating, because it dominated the way in which "Color Him In" was made. There were shortcuts where there shouldn't have been, such as in the song "Jenny". It's basically a lounge singers song, granted, but there are parts of the vocal where I and the background vocalists are out of tune slightly and this weakened the impact of the recording overall. Instead of fixing it, Steve Clark would say, "It' good enough for government work" or something similar and have us move on.

The trouble with this, and there are many, is that you start getting the feeling that the whole album is going to end up suffering as a result of that which it did. Likewise the ending of "Windows And Doors" has a crowd applause that Steve added, because again a note was missed by me at the end of the song. Rather than get it right dumb fixes were used to offset the mistake. What you end up with by doing that is the mistake plus another mistake so as you can well imagine there was frustration over having to work in this manner.

When "Color Him In" was being made there was no album deal at the time so the cost was fronted by Steve Clark's production company, Our Productions. If a label had been involved from the start we possibly would have had more freedom to do what needed to be done at the time, but the way it was had Steve looking over our shoulders and always trying to cut costs which hurt the album overall. Don't get me wrong "Color Him In" even with it's mistakes and weaknesses has held it's own over a period of 41 years. Like Chris Lucey's "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest" both albums have managed, on their own merit, to be regarded as viable period representations of the 60's.

It was my relationship with FranK Zappa that led the album to become a release on Verve Records, which Frank and "The Mothers Of Invention" were on. I have always assumed that Frank felt he owed me something because of my openness with him regarding Gail. I was never a problem for Frank, and his intervention regarding "Color Him IN" and Verve, were his way of saying thanks. It was Frank who asked Tom Wilson to take a personal interest in "Color Him In", which Tom did. So you see, even the deal itself with Verve, was handed to Steve Clark. He didn't have to go out and shop the record, the label came to him, via my friendship with Frank.

The on going difficulties between "The Association" and Curt Boettcher was another one of the problems that interfered with our work. Curt would get depressed over it and his creativity would suffer as a result. The way that showed up in his work on "Color Him In" was lack luster ideas instead of his usual genius and creativity. The clearest example of this would be on "Who's Putting Who On" and the horn parts which at best are annoying. Instead of using Jim Bell's talent to make those parts what they could have been it was past over and left as is, which was never adequate. These imperfect pieces of "Color Him In", which are some of it's weaknesses have always bothered me personally, but the main criticism of the album was the final mix.

It was always mushy! Too much bass, too little mid range, and almost no high end. This kept the record from ever having the clarity it could have had and the separation that was built into the original recording. It was a sloppy mistake and I complained about it from the very beginning. When the album was being mixed they would play it back on those goddamned "Voice Of The Theater" speakers at high volume. When you played it on those and mixed it there was no possible way that it would sound the same as it would when played back on smaller speakers, like people had in their homes or cars. It took years to get people to quit using those damn mammoth speakers for mix down. There is pretty much zero clarity of sound when that is done which would explain a lot of the muddiness in recordings from the 60's and 70's.

Because of Curt's personal clash with both "The Association" and Steve Clark the final stages of production for "Color Him In" suffered. You know how that goes. You work hard on something in the beginning, but as time passes your enthusiasm wears thin. If you add a few other major distractions to the mix it even gets worse. "The Association" had a hit and they understandably had to be dealt with by both Curt and Steve, but as a result of that "Color Him In" did not finish in the same way it started. It was as if we were just trying to finish it as fast as we could in the end.

I am not passing mere judgement on my own creation here. I am attempting, as best I can, to relay to you with some clarity how it was when this record was made. The ups and downs, the good and the bad, the successes and failures. I have waited 4 decades to explain some of the inner workings of the process and voice some opinion about what went wrong and what went right with "Color Him In". In the long run, the album is what it is, and some people hate it and others love it. My feeling has always been "Let me back in there so I can fix what is wrong." "Let me make it sound the way it could have sounded and the way it should have sounded, but alas, that was not to be and I have had to except "Color Him In" for what it is. "Color Him In" is a part of me. My life was changed because of it. The story about that part of my life is not ending here, but only beginning. The release of the album and what transpired over the next couple of years was as important to me, maybe more so, than the making of the record itself.

2009-04-09T21:09:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, APRIL 20, 2008

(part 57) TECHNICAL SCHMECHNICAL

I would like to clarify some of the points for those who are interested regarding technical problems encountered in the making of "COLOR HIM IN". There are differences in the MONO and STEREO versions of the album. When the stereo version was made the signals were split which drops the output considerably. If this is not dealt with at the time, which is wasn't, the output remains low and again clarity is lost, which in the case of COLOR HIM IN happened. When I say the album did not finish the same way it was started, it's things like this that I'm referring to. Rather than boosting the overall signal output on the STEREO mix, during mixdown and or mastering, it was just left as is.

The MONO mix is cleaner and tighter. The output has more thrust, because it was not split into two different channels, right and left, as it were. The mix on the MONO version is lacking in separation, but better on consistency of the delivery of sound at the output or speakers. The whole process was done with a lack of regard for the final product. It doesn't much matter what you cut in the studio if you can't hear it clearly or at all in the end product.

The process of mixing sound is like editing a film properly. You may have it on film, but it may be sitting on the editing floor or in this case lost in the mix or so muddy that it is hard to make out. CURT BOETTCHER himself, in an interview much later in time, stated that the mix was awful. It suffered because of the two things I mentioned in the last post. Rushed because of money and lack of attention due to other problems with other groups that Curt and Steve Clark were working with. The Association, Tommy Roe, and Joe South who were with Steve's Southern partner Bill Lowery in Atlanta, and were all demanding attention from Steve Clark and Curt Boettcher at the time "COLOR HIM IN" was being completed.

2009-04-09T21:02:00.000-07:00

MONDAY, APRIL 21, 2008

(part 58) "THE CHRIST COMPLEX"

The "Christ Complex" came with the use of LSD. To have a "Christ Complex" you don't necessarily have to think you're "JESUS" which I didn't, you just have to develop a sense of being something special, which I did. The use of drugs, particularly LSD, has a tendency, in some, to do this. If you look closely at the gaze of the original photo for the "COLOR HIM IN" cover art you can see that I am very concentrated on something, that something is the "CHRIST COMPLEXITY". It seemed to develop out of a sense of frustration and loss, and because of my ability to keep picking up the pieces of myself and becoming another version of me, which if you keep count were many.

This is not an easy subject to broach, but one I feel I must, to allow the reader to peer inside the person of Bobby Jameson, who in case you missed it, was now calling himself "JAMESON". The singular name and the dropping of Bobby was a very significant feature of the new character I was becoming. My sense, rightly or wrongly, of being connected Spiritually to the Universe had become a powerful new mechanism for me to use for the publicity of "COLOR HIM IN" and it's subsequent release. I believed, because I needed to, that all my previous failures and trials were actually part of a bigger picture that I was then beginning to see and understand.

It was a way to not only make sense out of what had happened, but to actually give it specific purpose by making it necessary as opposed to accidental in the overall scheme of things . You can see, I hope, that in doing this I was able to redirect the past into a purposeful focus for the future of JAMESON and "COLOR HIM IN". I did not have to question what had happened, because I had the perfect explanation manufactured or not. In telling you the reader this, I am hoping you will begin to understand how I later became the person I became. There has to be a basis set into this story that allows one to see, not only historical events related to the music business, but the other events more personal in nature, which have to do with emotions and thought processes.

It was not just about writing songs and making records. The 60's was a supercharged spiritual quest for many. It went far beyond the everyday living that most people attend to. I am in no way saying it was right, but conversely, I am in no way saying it was wrong. History will delegate to the 60's, and it's own phenomenon at socially restructuring everything, what history itself decides over time. My job, is to relay to you my story, good and bad as best I can on these pages. I hope there will be many instances where you have a hard time with some of what I tell you, otherwise I would have failed utterly, to convey truthfully what actually transpired.

My personal focus at the time of "COLOR HIM IN" was extreme. I had convinced myself to go where I decided I was to go. In an article, from KRLA BEAT, in 1967, the title is a dead give away, "PROPHET IN LEATHER". I leave you to decide what the intention was in calling it that. On the back cover of the album there's a picture of me standing on a small rock at the beach. It didn't work out, but the purpose, was supposed to be that the tide would come up and cover the rock making it appear that I was standing on the water. The only trouble was the tide was not coming in fast enough so the picture you see is me waiting on the rock for the water.

Every time I got the chance to promote this view of JAMESON as more than just a guy who made records, I did. I was like a method actor, so sold on my character, that I was my character. Everything I did and the way I looked was geared to the character I had become. The continued use of LSD, downers and alcohol, fueled the motor that drove me on. Prior to the actual release of "COLOR HIM IN", my time was spent convincing myself of my own purpose. In some ways I was a self elected social critic in other ways I was a self obsessed ego maniac, whose intent, was to enrich himself. What ever I was or wasn't there is one thing that is clear. The making and promoting of "COLOR HIM IN" was the launching pad for the eventual disintegration into alcoholism and drug addiction of Bobby Jameson.

2009-04-09T20:51:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, APRIL 22, 2008

(part 59) FRANK ZAPPA, TOM WILSON AND "COLOR HIM IN"

As I have already stated, it was FRANK ZAPPA who asked TOM WILSON at VERVE RECORDS to take a personal interest in the album COLOR HIM IN. Tom Wilson pressed Verve to lease the master from OUR PRODUCTIONS, who had produced the album, and release it, Verve agreed. In the original deal Tom got Verve to advance $10,000 to me personally, in the form of a check. I was not aware of this at the time, because neither Tom or Frank ever told me about it. When the contracts came to STEVE CLARK at OUR PRODUCTIONS the check was in with the rest of the paper work. I never saw what was sent by Verve at the time. Steve brought the check to me and said there was a mistake, that Verve had accidently put my name on the check, but that it was not mine. He told me that it was money to pay for session costs and asked me to endorse it so he could deposit it in the company account for use in paying studio costs.

Now get this, I believed him. I never questioned him for a moment, I trusted him. This is how I was treated from the beginning by Steve Clark. He was like a big brother to me from the first time I met him, and once again, as so many times before, I responded to how he treated me and not to what he was actually doing. It was not until years later when I ran into Tom Wilson that he made me aware of the facts. "Oh no Bobby, that money was for you, I made sure that Verve sent you the check personally." This was Tom's response after hearing what I have just written here about Steve Clark and his lie to me regarding the check.

As if that were not enough, Steve used that money to pay me my weekly salary for 2 years of writing songs for his publishing company SINCE MUSIC. So in essence, Steve ripped me off for $10,000 and then turned around and used it to pay me for writing songs for him. He got about 70 songs or more and it didn't cost him a penny to do it. It's a little hard to get ahead when your friends are doing this to you. Like I said, at the time I knew nothing about what had transpired between myself and my good buddy "STEVO". I was just glad that the album was getting released and concentrated on that aspect of the Verve deal.

I brought the label to Steve, the songs, me as an artist, and also paid myself with my own money to write songs for STEVE CLARK'S OUR PRODUCTIONS and SINCE MUSIC. Wow, what a deal! In copyright law there is something known as the law of copyright reversion. It is apparent to me, in light of what I have told you here, that any publishing deal I signed in 1966 with SINCE MUSIC and STEVE CLARK would be null and void on it's face, based on these facts. What Steve Clark did constituted a fraud against me as well as grand theft for taking my money. It seems that any claim of rights, by SINCE MUSIC and STEVE CLARK of my songs, would be clearly and legally beyond the pale of common sense at this point. I would be more than pleased to end up in a court of law, any where on the planet, to make my case for the rights to any and all of my songs that were and or are listed as property of SINCE MUSIC PUBLISHING. Therefore, I again lay absolute claim to each and every one of those aforementioned works, which would include all of "COLOR HIM IN".

As you have probably figured out by now, there was little in the way of fair play, when it came to Bobby Jameson and the business of music. I was unfortunate to a fault, when it came to match ups with different persons in the music business. These constant elements of trust and disappointment, over many years, were the ground work for a version of Bobby Jameson that was combative, forceful and destructive. I in no way will blame what I eventually did on others, but what I will do and am doing is lay out the impossible nature of what I had to contend with throughout the 60's.

2009-04-09T20:37:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 23, 2008

(part 60) BEHIND THE SCENES MEDDLING

As of a year ago, these pages were found for sale on EBAY. They indicate things going on behind the scenes that I knew nothing about. MIRA PRODUCTIONS (RANDY WOOD and ABE SOMER) maneuvering the situation to their own advantage. This attempt obviously put VERVE RECORDS off and the negative outcome was seen in Verve's reluctance to promote "COLOR HIM IN" for fear of having to fight over BOBBY JAMESON as an artist with MIRA RECORDS and RANDY WOOD'S publishing company. The fact that MIRA and WOODS didn't own my publishing or have me nailed down as an artist was irrelevant to the damage done by this kind of meddling by ABE SOMER, RANDY WOOD, and MIRA RECORDS and PRODUCTIONS.

What is amazing about this paper, is that RANDY WOOD is telling ABE SOMER an absolute lie here, in a document below. He states that MIRA PRODUCTIONS, according to the document signature area that's who this is from, have me as an artist and a writer under both BOBBY JAMESON and a fictitious name, CHRIS LUCEY I assume, or maybe CHRIS DUCEY. Either way it is a lie. He then goes on to say that he, RANDY WOOD, wants ABE SOMER, to get a contract, regarding me approved by the court, which is pretty interesting since I never signed one. That is a piece of paper that I would love to see.

This document is again from MIRA. Look at DEAR MARCEL. Just under it you can clearly see MIRA PRODUCTIONS INC. bleeding through from the page behind. So what I have here is a written statement by Randy Wood, telling Marcel Stellman from DECCA RECORDS UK, a label I was on (ALL I WANT IS MY BABY) that MGM(VERVE) has a deal with STEVE CLARK for me as an artist and writer and that he WOODS(SURREY) own the publishing to 14 of my songs, 10 of which were released as "'SONGS OF PROTEST AND ANTI PROTEST" by CHRIS DUCEY, not LUCEY, but CHRIS DUCEY. This is just a flat out lie! Anyway, it would seem obvious that MGM(VERVE) was potentially put off by this kind of back and forth between others who had worked with me in the past.

Only recently did I learn of how Randy Wood and Abe Somer harmed the Verve deal with "COLOR HIM IN". It was PHIL TURETSKY who had an office at MIRA and was friends with Randy Wood and Abe Somer who was the one who took me from MIRA to STEVE CLARK and OUR PRODUCTIONS. I have no way of knowing whether Phil Turetsky had any knowledge of this or not. It is sad to learn, some 40 years later, that nothing was as it appeared in 1966 and 67.

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

2009-04-09T20:28:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY, APRIL 26, 2008

(part 61) "THE GENERATION GAP" 1967

This picture is from a 1967 article in LOOK MAGAZINE titled "THE GENERATION GAP" by JOHN POPPY. It was brought on by the ever increasing and violent street demonstrations against the VIETNAM WAR and POLICE CRACKDOWNS on the demonstrators who felt it was their duty and right to take to the streets of HOLLYWOOD and WEST HOLLYWOOD and voice their disapproval.

The 60's was a mixture of contradictions and wonderment. Incredible music, drugs, social change and a whole host of other dynamics that altered AMERICA and the rest of the world. I was not just some doped up pop singer that went around causing trouble. I was very serious about my quest to become spiritually enlightened, as were countless others. It is far easier now, to pass judgement on the use of drugs to find God, than it was in 1967. All that we did at that time had purpose and meaning to us in our search for a better world, better than the one our parents had helped to build.

We clashed with every moral wall set up by older people and were determined to knock them down and erect something better and wiser. We could not and would not accept the assassination of JOHN KENNEDY, MARTIN LUTHER KING(1968) and ROBERT KENNEDY(1968) at face value. We knew there was, and still is, more to those stories than we were ever told. We believed that the war in VIETNAM was an example of people who had lost their way and were now dead set on forcing us to fall in line, which we did not. The government of the United States lied to the nation about THE GULF OF TONKIN, much the same way as PRESIDENT BUSH AND DICK CHEENEY lied about IRAQ.

This kind of coarse reality was what we faced in the 60's and our decision was to take to the streets of AMERICA and utterly refuse to permit it without a fight. It would do some of you a lot of good today to be as committed as we were then. "HE WHO WILL NOT QUESTION AUTHORITY WILL BE IT'S VICTIM." We, as a nation are now victims of our own weakness and self seeking. More than anything else the 60's was a time to learn. We lifted ourselves above the status quo and stayed there, willing if necessary, to be jailed, beaten and even killed, KENT STATE. (1970)

The fact that many of us became victims of our own enthusiasm is only clear now in hindsight. Even though, I still believe that what we did had to be done and was done, by children from the 1960's. MAKE LOVE NOT WAR was more that a clever slogan. We did make love and not war. We loved the world and each other with music and art and we changed it. Our fight was with those who doggedly kept up the lie of VIETNAM and their bull crap morality. We understood morality to be something more than talking about patriotism while killing people in ASIA. Morality meant far more to us than discussions about out of wedlock sex. It seems clear to me that we as a people and a nation have once again slid back into talking about morality while blowing up a country and it's people for the same kind of reasons that we fought in Vietnam. The 60's in so many ways is the text book lesson, against the war in IRAQ. The rhetoric about what will happen if we leave is identical to what was repeated over and over from 1965 to 1974, regarding Vietnam. If I never do anything worthwhile in my life again, I will always remember and cherish the children of the 60's, and know that I was one of them.

2009-04-09T18:30:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 30, 2008

(part 62) "PARTLY FACT AND PARTLY FICTION"

After the release of "COLOR HIM IN" in 1967, I started dating DEANA MARTIN, the daughter of DEAN MARTIN. I used to spend a lot of time at the Martin house and it was just another one of the many contradictions about my life. I spent so much time on the streets of Hollywood and West Hollywood that I became known as "The Mayor Of Sunset Strip" a position later given to RODNEY BINGENHEIMER and then KIM FOWLEY. I was having trouble at times fitting into all the different personalities that were forming in my life. I met TERRY MELCHER at the Martin house, he was dating GINA MARTIN the older sister of Deana and we did not much like each other.

Terry considered me another run of the mill singer song writer and I considered him a no talent son of DORIS DAY, who took credit for producing BRIAN WILSON'S work and the same with THE BYRDS. BRIAN WILSON produced THE BEACH BOYS and THE BYRDS produced THE BYRDS. Terry Melcher took the credit, because he could, and I let him know that's what I thought. At some point in 1967 I began to realize that "COLOR HIM IN" was not the resounding hit I had hoped for. Verve Records seemed to have fallen off on pushing the record and as usual L A RADIO was giving me 0 airplay. I bitterly complained about this, but to no avail so I turned my attentions toward the streets again and immersed myself in the culture of street demonstrations against the war and police brutality.

One would have thought that as much press as I was getting on the streets, LA Radio would have embraced me, but they did not, ever. My reputation with the inside crowd in Hollywood's music business sucked and still does today. I didn't much kiss enough ass, but I showed up at places like the Martin house so people like Terry Melcher and others were irritated by me and my ability to infringe on their ranks. It was like a high school click of special cases and they kept asking each other "who the fuck is this JAMESON guy?"

I was cutting some demo's one time for SCREEN GEMS MUSIC, something STEVE CLARK set up, and the son of LESTER SILL who was head of Screen Gems at the time, JOEL SILL was the producer. It was just a demo session and the players were JERRY SCHEFF, BEN BENAY, TOXI FRENCH and people like that really good players, but this asshole Joel Sill kept interrupting every take to tell us how to play. Finally I'd had enough and told him to "shut the fuck up Sill and quit fucking with us." Sill got back on the the talk back mic from the control room and started talking down to me and that did it. I threw down my guitar yanked off my ear phones and went after him, he vacated the area.

This was part of the ever growing personality of "quit taking shit from assholes" that I was becoming. The other musicians liked what I did but knew they couldn't do it. None of them liked Joel Sill, but they had to tolerate him, so they could keep on working. I on the other hand had taken more than my share of bullshit from ego maniacs and was now willing to take them on just about anywhere and anytime, I'm sure this did not help my cause. I was drinking all the time, dropping pills and taking LSD. I was volatile and mouthy and would fight damn near anybody who gave me a reason. I looked like a cross between, Jesus Christ and Wild Bill Hickock, so there was always some dumb son of a bitch who would say something stupid to me like "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

The reason for telling you these things is to keep reporting the changes in circumstance and personality that were occurring in my life. The context of what I was doing, where I was doing it and some of the people involved, is important to keep up with because each new thing and person played some role in what transpired. I was like a ping pong ball bouncing off each new situation and person I encountered. I never got settled into anything before it would change again and I would have to start over. If you look back at what I have already related it is obvious that no set of conditions, persons or circumstances lasted very long.

The only thing I could count on staying constant was change. I was getting arrested during street demonstrations and then getting out so I could show up at the Martin house. It didn't make any sense, my life was a pin ball machine. I was torn between the luxury of Deana's life and the hard edge of the streets. I was torn between the Terry Melcher's and Joel Sills and my own need to create music that stood for something. Everything always seemed to be at odds with itself. I could not get all the pieces to work at the same time, even though the pieces were there.

I was barely 21 and was a total maverick amongst maverick's. I am not blowing my own horn in making that statement, maybe it would be more accurate to say I was an outcast amongst maverick's. AL RUDDY once said to me, "If I knew what to do with you Bobby, I'd do it, but I don't." I thought that was a pretty honest remark, Al produced "THE GODFATHER", for 20th Century Fox in the old days. The more I defined myself the less defined I was in the eyes of those who had the power. They knew me but kept their distance, as Kris Kristofferson once wrote, "he's a walking contradiction partly fact and partly fiction."

2009-04-09T18:16:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY, MAY 1, 2008

(part 63) MONDO HOLLYWOOD, VIETNAM, NO AIRPLAY

MONDO HOLLYWOOD was released in 1967, as was BUFFALO SPRINGFIELDS "FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH", a song about the riots on the Sunset Strip, which were anti Vietnam War demonstrations. The local police forces in LA had taken to the tactic of using anti loitering laws in an attempt to stop or blunt the anti war movement locally. My song "VIETNAM" was in MONDO HOLLYWOOD and was about as meaningful to the current situation as a song could have been at the time, but while "FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH" was given massive airplay, which it was entitled to, "VIETNAM" was shunned.

I am going to take the time here to blow my own horn in defense of my own song "VIETNAM" and my performance of it. "VIETNAM" was one of the best goddamned Anti Vietnam War songs ever recorded in the 60's and other than it being heard in MONDO HOLLYWOOD, it was never heard by the general public. LOS ANGELES radio, at the time, was dominated by a fucking bunch of self appointed control freaks like, REB FOSTER, who decided against playing 'VIETNAM" or anything else I recorded. Not only did it and it still does piss me off, but it kept "VIETNAM", a relevant work, out of the picture completely. From 1965 to 1967 I had written and recorded CHRIS LUCEY "SONGS OF PROTEST AND ANTI PROTEST" and got no airplay.

"VIETNAM/METROPOLITAN MAN" no airplay. "RECONSIDER BABY" with me and ZAPPA no airplay. "GOTTA FIND MY ROOGALATOR" with ZAPPA no airplay. "ALL ALONE" no airplay and "COLOR HIM IN" with no airplay. When "MONDO HOLLYWOOD" came out and "VIETNAM" still got no airplay, even though the streets were filled with thousands of anti war demonstrators, I felt as though it was intentional to keep "VIETNAM" and BOBBY JAMESON off LA Radio. As you might well imagine looking back on it now I was beyond pissed off and completely fed up with the clickish punks in LA's radio and music scene.

Once again, this only fueled my attitude problems that were increasingly becoming something of a well known topic in the localized community of Hollywood, West Hollywood and Beverly Hills. As I look back on this now I'm not all that sure that I was wrong in taking on the personality traits of a gunslinger prophet. In my mind there was a concerted effort to thwart me and all of my work. To this very day BOBBY JAMESON and LOS ANGELES have never come to any understanding of each other. For a place and a person to each play such a key role in each other's existence in the 60's, I am still at a loss to understand or accept that history. COUNTRY JOE AND THE FISH and their absolutely perfect song about the Vietnam War was another of the milestone efforts, of some, to put words and music to the feelings of many toward one of this nations sorriest mistakes. I personally am utterly pleased that works such as this were not overlooked and unheard.

2009-04-09T18:10:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, MAY 2, 2008

(part 64) A VERY BAD TRIP ON OSLEY ACID

I had very good luck with LSD until I ran into some of the very first OSLEY ACID to hit Southern California. I knew a film director named HENRY JAGLOM and he had obtained this batch from San Francisco. He had been warned about this stuff and told that it was not your run of the mill street shit that had been floating around LA for the last couple of years. Henry was a bit worried about the warning so he contacted me and said that he'd gotten this high quality LSD from San Francisco but didn't know how strong it was, so if I was willing to test it for him, he'd lay it on me for free. Like an ass hole I agreed figuring, "how bad could it be, I've taken a lot of acid and never had a problem?"

I met up with Henry and he gave me a big fat gelatin capsule of this stuff. Without so much as batting and eyelash, I dropped it in my mouth and smiled. I told him I'd get back to him the next day and tell him how good or bad I thought it was. I then drove to Bel Air and went into JERRY DOFF'S house, he was a lawyer I gotten to know, and where I occasionally hung out. It was a huge mansion inside the gates of Bel Air and I settled in to a small bed room off the kitchen, which was used as kind of a utility room and playroom for Jerry's kids. I didn't much think anything about the fact that I'd just taken this stuff without any information about it and was curious as to what kind of trip it would provide.

I was laying back on the bed and started noticing crayola marks the kids had made on the wall. As I stared at one of these marks on the wall it started to multiply. I looked away thinking I was just getting blurry eyed and then looked back at the dot like marks. Again they began multiplying on the wall and then began flying off the wall into the room around me, filling the air with thousands of flying dots. Pretty soon the whole damn room was filled with literally tens of thousands of furiously spinning dots that seemed to be attacking me. I became lost in my war with the dots, when all of a sudden I realized it was the acid kicking in and that I was hallucinating. I got off the bed and stood up trying to clear my mind and gather my senses.

I was beginning a trip that I knew nothing about and was entering a zone I had never known and was totally unprepared and ill equipped to deal with. As I stood in the middle of this small room all the depth to everything ran together as if the room and everything in it had become like liquid, as opposed to solid. It is difficult to find the right words to explain the enormity of the hallucinations I began to experience. I had hallucinated before but this was completely different. This had an edge to it that dwarfed my senses and caused me to go in and out of deep psychosis. I was completely losing sight of myself, within myself. This will take no more than minutes to explain but it took hours to occur, so keep that in mind, as I describe to you part of what happened.

I left that room, because the smallness of it was unbearable. It felt, and appeared, that the walls, ceiling and floor were all moving in towards each other, and that I would be crushed within them when they met. I ended up in the hall and it looked like it went on forever. As I stared down it's endless length, I had no idea of where I was, or for that matter, who I was. I was just a thing thinking things that had no connection to anything. When I was sure I was lost I would suddenly reappear to myself and realize how powerful the drug I was on was. I had no capacity to control in the slightest way what was happening to me.

I understand that using LSD is a form of giving up control and just tripping out, but this was ruthless. This was like losing your mind and being a witness to the fact that you were losing your mind. I finally made my way to Jerry's bedroom. which was massive, and tried to speak. He looked up at me and said, "Oh hi Bobby, how's it going? I stared at him and tried to speak but no words came out. I couldn't make my mind formulate thoughts and turn them into words. Jerry realized something was wrong and said, "What's wrong Bobby? Is something wrong?" I looked at a coffee table on the floor in front of a small sitting area and watched it disappear. It started at the ends of the table disappearing and just moved from both ends to the middle and was gone, it just went away and then all of a sudden it reappeared by the same procedure in reverse.

I was mesmerized by this visual phenomenon and I guess my silence started to scare Jerry. "Are you on some drug Bobby?" he asked. I motioned as best I could to the affirmative, which visibly pissed him off, I can't blame him because the whole damn thing was pretty weird and I was in his house. He finally got that I was in deep shit and called UCLA Medical Center in Westwood, at the University. He was able to get a psychologist on the phone and described to the guy what seemed to be happening to me. The doctor wanted to talk to me and Jerry handed me the phone. I managed to mumble something incoherent when a voice came out of the ear piece asking, "Are you hallucinating now Mr. Jameson?"

As the sound of this guys voice echoed in my ear the telephone began to melt in my hand, and I remember distinctly, the sense of realization that the guy on the other end of the line was in no way any more equipped to deal with the situation than I was. I sank into a deep sense of loss and disintegration of my mind and recall vividly just plain giving up to the madness. At that point I was sure I would never come back from what was happening to me, and in fact, it took 20 years to get over it and feel as though I had gotten beyond it. I am again telling you something that is intricately involved in the changes that occurred in me during the 60's. I feel obligated to report specific moments in time that I know were turning points for me, and because this trip was so different and frightening for me I increased, once again, my dependency on other drugs. My ever increasing intake of more and more powerful drugs was the eventual downfall of Bobby Jameson. Although much that was negative arose out of many of the things that I have shared and will share with you, in the long run, much good was also gained.

2009-04-09T17:57:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, MAY 7, 2008

(part 65) TOM WILSON, ZAPPA AND JIMI HENDRIX

I am going to try and remake a point that I believe has not been fully understood regarding my description of a bad acid trip. I received emails and comments that led me to do this because I didn't just tell that story for the telling sake. Following that trip I was informed by HENRY JAGLOM, the person I got the LSD from, that it was a multiple hit of dry OSLEY ACID and was enough to get a number of people extremely high. I was pissed off by this information after the fact but in essence I was the one who took it. There was no gun to my head, I made the choice. Ok! What's the point? The point is that this changed my life. It left me so shattered at the time paranoid, with a sense of something irreversible having taken place, and a peculiar knowledge of the power of the human mind that I had never glimpsed before and was sure I didn't want to again.

When I write it on these pages, the sense of it is lost in the words inability to correctly describe the point I am attempting to make. It was in the aftermath that the real point lies, not the trip or the hallucinations themselves. I hallucinated big time many times before, but this stuff and the fact that I took way too much of it, was totally different. It would be like somebody who used heroin for a long time and then getting something close to pure and dying from it. This was not just an acid trip. This was a life altering experience. It caused more than anything else the major upswing in my use of other drugs and alcohol, for the sedation effect they had, regarding the anxiety I was left with after this experience.

This traceable lineage of what happened, and caused other things to occur in a line of progressive events that led from where I started to where I ended up, is key to the story of these events as they unfolded in my life. Without context what I write becomes a series of stories without a point. There is a point to everything I write because each thing written about was central in some way to the overall context, like dot to dot drawing. The music I wrote after this experience was completely different than what I wrote prior to it. The music was altered as was I. Before I recorded "WORKING" in 1968 I wrote and recorded a number of songs that I worked on with Steve Clark, but which were never released. The titles of these songs indicate to some degree the text of these unknown works. "HOLY HOLY HOLY" "HITLER AND JESUS" and a number of other songs I have little recollection of. I will try and discuss as best I can how these songs came to be and what events preceded and followed their creation.

As "COLOR HIM IN" began to fade out of my consciousness, as the thing that would make my life better, I ended up in New York City at Verve Records. I wanted to know why they weren't working the album better and I wanted to see TOM WILSON, which I did succeed in doing. I found Tom in a recording studio working with JOHNNY NASH. I told Tom that I wanted to cut another record and that I needed his help. Tom was gracious as always and tried to get me to see that he was busy at the time with the NASH record and that I was putting him on the spot, which I was. I told him I had come to New York and it was a big deal for me and I had to get something going with him while I was there or my coming would be for nothing.

As I said Tom was extremely respectful of me and literally stopped the NASH session and said ok let's hear what you got in the way of material. For the first time in my life I was unprepared to whip out some songs to record. I stood there like an ass hole and knew it. Tom told me to go put my music together in LA and that we'd get together on it at a later date. As I left the studio feeling awkward and foolish for not having any tunes ready, both JOHNNY NASH and TOM WILSON made me feel that it was ok and that I hadn't done anything to hurt them and what they were doing. I have never forgotten how well they treated me in light of my forcing myself into their important work at the time.

As I wandered aimlessly through the streets of New York, following my time with Tom Wilson at the Nash session, I began writing a song called "BLACK BRICK WALL", which I eventually recorded but it was never released. The title speaks for itself in that I felt like I had hit a brick wall and that it was indeed black. After a couple of hours or more I ended up In GREENWICH VILLAGE where ZAPPA was playing with THE MOTHERS OF INVENTION at the GARRICK THEATER. It was in the summer of 1967 so it was warm and sticky in New York City. I found Frank and he was glad to see me, which was a relief. I told him about Tom Wilson and what had happened and he told me not to let it get me down and just go and write some songs.

I told him I had already started and recited some of the lyrics I had been working on for the past few hours. He nodded his approval and we let it drop. Frank said he wanted to take me to a little club near by so I could hear this guy play guitar and I agreed. When we got there a short time later I heard this thundering sound coming out of the place. When you touched the door handle to open the door it was literally vibrating. As we walked inside the club there were three people playing on a small stage making more noise than I had ever heard in my life, when I use the word noise I mean it in the most positive way. I looked at Frank and smiled my approval and Frank yelled in my ear. "This guy's going to be the next Elvis Presley," he was referring to popularity not sound. "What's his name?" I yelled back at Frank, "JIMI HENDRIX!" Frank yelled, "His name is JIMI HENDRIX."

2009-04-09T17:47:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY, MAY 8, 2008

(part 66) HENDRIX, ZAPPA AND LEAVING NEW YORK

After seeing and hearing Hendrix on that muggy afternoon in the Village Frank took me to the Le Figaro Cafe nearby to introduce me to Jimi, but when we got there Hendrix was already at a table with two or three girls and otherwise occupied. The place was pretty empty so even from across the room you could see everybody who was in the place. At one point Hendrix looked up and caught sight of Frank and me and acknowledged Frank's presence with a smile and a wave. He was so loaded, that at best, it was a half hearted attempt to be cordial. I told Frank it was ok and that it was obvious that he was in no shape to meet the likes of me or anybody else at the time. "It's cool Frank," I said, "I don't think he needs to be interrupted right now." Frank agreed and we left the Le Figaro and I carried away my memory of Jimi Hendrix, Frank Zappa and me, on that hot muggy afternoon in Greenwich Village, New York in 1967.

I remember hearing, as Frank and I walked and talked, about the Monterey Pop Festival a month or so earlier and some guy who had blown everybody's mind along with Janice Joplin. It was this guy I had just seen and heard with Frank, Jimi Hendrix. I always remembered what Frank said to me, "This guy's gonna be the next Elvis Presley." It stuck in my mind as an odd way for Frank to put it, but I never forgot it and in some ways it turned out to be true.

When I got back to LA I was all hyped up about writing new songs, promising myself, that what had happened in New York with Tom Wilson would never happen again. I started writing all kinds of heavy duty lyrics that were extreme versions of the opposing parallels I'd used in songs like "Sea Dawn" from "Color Him In". Somehow I got it in my mind that the point of "Sea Dawn" was right but that I needed to make the point more like a sledge hammer. Two of these songs were, as mentioned, "HOLY HOLY HOLY" and "HITLER AND JESUS". If you go to the links at the top of this page and click on Robert Parker Jameson you can hear two songs that I cut with JESSE ED DAVIS in the early 70's that are similar to what I am talking about here.

"JUNKIE JESUS" and "JESUS WAS AN OUTLAW TOO". Nobody was too sure about what I was doing but I just kept writing whether they liked it or not. I managed to convince STEVE CLARK, at the time, to record a couple of these songs probably telling him if he didn't TOM WILSON would. What ever it was that I told Steve it worked. I ended up in the same studio where I'd cut "COLOR HIM IN" with a 30 or 40 piece orchestra and recorded "HOLY HOLY HOLY" and possibly others. I say possibly because frankly I don't remember. "HOLY HOLY HOLY" was about the hypocrisy of the church and the priests in the church, according to me. We cut the track with no problem, but when it was time for me to put down the lyrics the engineer got up and walked out of the studio about half way through the song. (GO TO PARTS 96 and 97 FOR THE TWO SONGS REFERRED TO HERE.)

The session stopped and Steve went running after the engineer who we found out was a good Catholic. He told Steve that he couldn't be a part of something like that because it was blasphemy according to this guy's belief. After about 40 minutes or so Steve and the engineer came back in together and the session went on. I later asked Steve how he got the guy to come back and Steve said he reasoned with him that this was art and that I had a right to express my opinion, artistically, even if it offended some people. The guy thought about that and decided he agreed with Steve's reasoning and was willing to finish the session, but wouldn't do any more if they were like this. I thought that was pretty clever of Steve to bring up this particular point of logic which I fully agreed with.

2009-04-09T17:37:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY, MAY 10, 2008

(part 67) "HOLY HOLY HOLY" ON THE AIR IN SAN FRANCISCO

What I am writing about here in regard to religious beliefs or lack there of was an extremely important factor to me back in the 60's. There was no evangelical movement then like there is now so religion was viewed somewhat differently in the 60' than it is in the 21st century. There was no TBN (Trinity Broadcasting Network) on cable TV or anything else like we have come to take for granted these days. There were no cell phones, no cable news channels etc.. Newspapers and magazines, network news in the evening, and AM radio was where we learned about our world, unless you were part of what was making the news, which we were, we being the anti war pro peace hippie movement.

Religion represented the establishment and all that the establishment stood for, which was the war, fear of sex drugs and rock n roll, guilt and fear of self expression. Religion and government were intertwined in a way that set up a false moral structure which was assumed, by it's creators and supporters, to be the last word on all things moral and important to the whole collective body of America. The hippie and peace movements, which was embraced by much of the music and it's creators at the time had specifically different ideas. Not all of these ideas were shared by those in positions of power within the music and radio broadcast mediums, so this would be one of the driving forces behind FM radio in the 60's.

The tension that existed between this duality of forces was what I was attempting to get at by writing the kinds of songs I was writing at the time. Like Hitler and Jesus, a perfect metaphor for a pair of opposites. Yin and Yang, positive and negative, light and dark etc.. I saw HOLY HOLY HOLY as a way to draw a distinction between the supposed goodness of religion and religions inability to produce members who could see that blowing up Vietnam was not a net positive to the world.

I saw that people who were going to church and proclaiming their moral high ground were also supporting a war which I was against. They were afraid of braless hippie girls but seemingly unmoved by the wars increasing body count. The priests I saw as leaders within religious structures, whatever the denomination, that had a moral obligation to speak out against the ongoing slaughter of human beings. I should add that I am aware that what I am saying was not true across the board in all cases. There were many, but never enough, who did speak out such a Martin Luther King in his brilliant speech against the war in April of 1968.

My need, which was to articulate through music and lyrics my growing dissatisfaction with the world around me, was met with animosity and skepticism by many and down right hatred by some. The more I worked at capturing through art what I believed to be the truth the further I was pushed to the side of the "money for music" business. A lot of people said, "Yeah, the guy's real talented, but why doesn't he write something commercial." This infuriated me because I had written things that were commercial and they had complaints about that too. I pretty much decided that if they were going to keep me out I might as well write the kind of stuff I wanted to, at least I knew I was serious when I did that, and I'd already had my shot at "bubble gum."

A while after I'd cut "HOLY HOLY HOLY" and had a tape copy in my hands I ventured up to San Francisco to see a friend of mine name GREG THOMAS. Greg introduced me to the guys in BLUE CHEER and we told them about the tape of HOLY HOLY HOLY which they thought was a real trip. One of the guys in Blue Cheer said he new the girl who was a DJ on the first FM rock station on the west coast and that she was on that afternoon and that we ought to go to the station and see if she would play the tape on air. We all thought that sounded like a good idea so we loaded ourselves into the car and ended up at the station. The girl who was the DJ was on the air when we got there but she invited us in anyway feeling loved by all the attention she was getting.

It seems this particular lady liked downers so we asked her if she wanted a couple, which she instantly said,"yes" to. I pulled a couple of 3 grain "Rainbows" out of my pocket and handed them to her and she promptly swallowed both of them. We all broke into laughter exclaiming, "Damn girl, you really do like those things." As we joked and laughed for twenty or thirty minutes it became apparent that the DJ lady was getting high and a bit slurry in her speech. At that point we brought up the tape and without batting an eyelash she said, "You got it with you? Gimme it, I'll put it on." I handed over the tape and she threaded it through the machine and picked up her mic and hit the cut in switch.

Now you have to remember that this was a live broadcast at the time. "Hello all you.." She broke in to what ever was playing and said she had an exclusive and was going to play it for everybody for the first time anywhere and she did. About half way through the song the telephone switchboard lit up like a christmas tree and all hell broke loose. The tape got yanked and the lady DJ handed it back to me saying, "You guys better get out a here cause the owners on his way and we got big trouble." We all apologized to her as we left, saying we hoped she didn't get fired or anything like that and thanked her for playing the tape. As we all trampled down the stairs to the street below we didn't know whether we should be guilty, happy, or impressed that the song had caused such a huge reaction. "Yeah, and they didn't even hear the whole thing," somebody yelled.

2009-04-08T23:09:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, MAY 23, 2008

(part 68) VERVE RECORDS AND FREE SPEECH

Fortunately or unfortunately, as the case may be, I am telling my story. The argument I am having with myself and some of you is a carbon copy of the kinds of arguments I was having with VERVE RECORDS and Steve Clark and others, in the beginning of 1968, over the direction my next album for VERVE would take. I am not talking about "free speech" as a side issue to the story, it is a central issue of the story. Verve Records was the label I was on, but VERVE wanted to decide what I could or could not do on my follow up album to "COLOR HIM IN".

I have often wondered how an album such as "COLOR HIM IN" could be so widely distributed across this planet, but never have sold that well, according to VERVE RECORDS. In 40 years I have become aware of how many people either know the album or have the album, but it didn't sell that well? I have never had an accounting from VERVE as to how many records actually were sold. In 1967 into 1968 you could find "COLOR HIM IN" in any record store in America, I knew this, so I felt from my standpoint that the record had done better than I was being led to believe by the people I worked with, namely VERVE.

Because of this I wanted to have a say about the construction both song wise and production wise of the next album. VERVE was unwilling to grant me this freedom of expression. It became the battle of free speech as an artist. Freedom, and the right to it, is a central point of what this story is actually about. I suppose if all you want to do is talk about CHRIS LUCEY "SONGS OF PROTEST AND ANTI PROTEST" and "COLOR HIM IN" then in essence the story is over, but on a far wider spectrum the story has only gotten half way or less.

When I cut "ALL I WANT IS MY BABY" in England, for ANDREW OLDHAM, I had no say in anything. On returning to America I was relegated to writing songs to someone else's titles for CHRIS LUCEY there was no free speech involved in that, I was merely a hired hand. "VIETNAM/METROPOLITAN MAN" was an act of free speech, but they were censored from the onset and would have been forced into obscurity if not for their appearance in the movie "MONDO HOLLYWOOD".

Each of the following recordings after that were never really given an opportunity on merit to be heard or judged by the public at large, so to question a discussion about free speech seems to fly in the face of a problem I was constantly dealing with. By the time I got to the follow up album to "COLOR HIM IN" "free speech" was the entire matter personified. I wanted, in fact demanded, the right to say what I wanted to say on the second album. I had paid enough dues, in my opinion, by that time to be given some sort of artistic freedom with which to create a work that was not only controversial, but ground breaking in it's concept and execution.

I had gone along for years doing almost everything the way somebody else wanted. In 1968 I made a decision that would change that it was an exercise in "free speech" and also one of futility. VERVE was afraid of what I wanted to do. To this day they have the tapes of those sessions and I am not even allowed to have copies. In the past 2 years or so VERVE was contacted in my behalf and would not agree to give me a copy of my contract with them, their excuse, their contract was with STEVE CLARK and OUR PRODUCTIONS, not me. So this is not some vague ranting by BOBBY JAMESON on his blog, this is a 40 year old continuing controversy about the rights of an artist/writer and the moral obligation of an industry to make right a very old wrong.

In the end neither I nor VERVE RECORDS would agree to the others demands.To this day I do not know the legal ramifications of the split between VERVE, OUR PRODUCTIONS and BOBBY JAMESON. I have never been paid one penny for "COLOR HIM IN" and I have never been given an accounting, nor was I given access to my final work with VERVE and OUR PRODUCTIONS. The break between these factions in 1968 is the basis for my album "WORKING", although much in the way of anger and resentment permeated my existence from that time forward.

2009-04-08T22:27:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, JUNE 3, 2008

(part 69) ASSAULT ON A PEACE OFFICER, 2 COUNTS

I haven't felt much like writing here in a while. I guess all the trying to stick up for what I was saying just finally got to me. It's a work in progress and I don't have a lot of the skills that it takes to withstand what I'm already use to and that's criticism, a lifetime of it. I have many things to say, but I don't know if some of the people dropping in here can really handle the story of Bobby Jameson. I haven't even gotten to the bad part yet and I feel as though what I am moving toward is more than some will be able to handle. What I mean is, that every time I tell something that will make me look like I am an asshole, which I am sometimes, there will be those who use it against me and others who say that's not the part I want to hear, while still others will want to argue about it.

I am trying to accurately keep on track, but unfortunately I have lost sight of what I was doing here. The only one who this is personal to, is me, it's my personal confession in a lot of ways. I am the only one who knows where this is going and believe me it's going to get ugly. I'm probably reluctant, because I know what that really means. The disintegration of my life, based on repetitive losses and failures left me broke and resentful at best. Adding alcoholism and drug addiction to that equation is not a moral argument whatsoever, it is a factual depiction of how I changed from a kid who played guitar and made up songs to the guy who ended up fighting with the police in the streets of L A in the 60's and 70's.

Whether or not record companies did the right thing, which they don't most of the time is irrelevant to what I thought, believed and said at the time. Most of what I said and did was not a good idea, but it was what I said and did. The record and music industry is in a world of shit, because it made and still makes lousy choices about art, music, and lyrics. They are not just companies, per say, they are business's that deal in art, the emotion of art, which is different than selling tractors. Art is special and artists are special people, but when you ask art to conform to business instead of business conforming to art, you've got it backwards which the music industry is finally paying the long awaited price for.

I was a pioneer in standing up for what I believed in at the time and it cost me everything. I have no plans to argue with anyone about the price I paid for being Bobby Jameson/Chris Lucey. Most people could not and would not have done what I did. I don't need to pay anymore of a price than I already have. You go do what I did for as long as I did it and then come and tell me what you think, because I suspect if you live through it that you'd be worth knowing and I'd want to know you, but if you don't do that then maybe I know some things that few others know, because I did do that.

In 1968 at the corner of Sunset Blvd. and Clark St., that's where the Whiskey A Go Go is, I and some friends were crossing the street going away from the Whiskey. We encountered 6 white guys in suits walking towards us and a few words were exchanged between both groups. My people asked these guy's if they were cops and they said they were insurance agents from out of town in L A for a convention and wanted to visit the "Strip." More words were exchanged and a brawl started right in the middle of the intersection. People were knocked down and some were lying in the street hurt. One of these was nearly unconscious and was being approached by one of the suits who was about to kick him in the head.

I ran at the guy, about to do the kicking, and shoved him off balance to keep him from carrying out this action, at that point the suits all announced that they were Los Angeles undercover cops and that we were all under arrest. They said I assaulted a police officer and I was charged with 2 counts of felony assault against a peace officer which carries a sentence of 1 to 5 years for each count, so I was looking at 2 to 10 years in a CA state prison, if convicted. I was on trial for over a year and I beat it, as I should, but it took a lot out of me and it was more reason to get loaded and frustrated, which I did.

It was this event and the year long trial that set the stage for what became the environment for my album "WORKING". During these times I found myself always living somewhere different. There was always someone who wanted to manage me, or fix me, or just have me around for a variety of reasons, but one thing was for sure, I was like a walking time bomb always ready to go off and never sure of when it would happen. During that time I lived in a guy's house for a few months whose name was Howard Gilliam. He was rich and used to say, seriously, that he controlled the world wide soy bean market at the time.

I never knew whether he did or not, but I lived with Howard. He thought he could manage me so I let him have a shot, so I could stay at his house, that is how I lived, I had no home, I was basically homeless for half the 60's and most of the 70's. I looked like I was doing pretty good because I always drove some one's nice car and lived in someone else's nice house or apartment, but in reality, I was just broke and loaded.

2009-04-08T22:21:00.001-07:00

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 4, 2008

(part 70) NANCY HARWOOD

From bobby jameson

This is Nancy Harwood. She was a Playboy Centerfold in 1968 and my favorite of all the women I have lived with. I met her at Howard Gilliam's house in 68. She was arrogant and pushy and I asked her to leave, she refused, I asked her again and she said no. I then told her to get out and again she said no. She was used to getting her own way and it became a test of wills which she was determined to win.

I stood up and walked over to her where she was seated in a chair and said, "Goddamn it get the fuck out of my house." "I don't want to," she said. I reached down and grabbed her by a handful of hair and lifted her out of the chair. She was like a cat being grabbed by the nape of the neck as I drug her to the front door and opened it. I continued dragging her out onto the front landing and let her go and then turned and walked back inside and slammed the door.

In about 45 minutes the front doorbell rang and I went over to open it, thinking it might be the police. As I opened the door I saw Nancy standing there looking kind of sheepish and a lot less aggressive. She said, "I'm sorry I was so rude can I come back in?" I let her in and she didn't leave my side for the next year and a half this was the way things happened in my life. Nancy had been the girlfriend of JOHNNY ECHOLS, from the band LOVE, I never knew how she ended up at Howard's house that day, but I never forgot it and I'll never forget her.

If there was ever a woman that I actually loved, it was her, she was a special creature and I mean that in the very best of ways. nancy and I loved hard and fought hard but no matter what she would not leave me, she was loyal to the bone with me, I can not speak for JOHNNY ECHOLS. Everywhere I went with her people would just stare at her and then look at me, wondering why someone like her was with me. I used to get a kick out of watching guys try to get her attention and leave me. It happened all the time and went on for as long as we were together, I got into a lot of fights because of that, but in a strange kind of a way I liked it, it met I had something everybody else wanted and couldn't have.

2009-04-08T22:14:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, JUNE 13, 2008

(part 71) IT WAS THAT SIMPLE FOR ME

In 1968, 3 very important things happened in America. In April of that year Martin Luther King was assassinated in Memphis, Tenn. In June of that year Bobby Kennedy was assassinated in Los Angeles, and in August of 1968 there were huge riots in Chicago, at the Democratic National Convention, which assured that Richard M. Nixon would be elected the next President of The United States Of America. The level of depression and anger that was felt across this country and the whole world for that matter, following these events, was thick, as 1968 moved towards it's final months. Because the shock of what had happened was so complete that year, it was responsible for altering the lives of millions, forever.

It was hard to put your finger on exactly how much changed as a result of the years volatility exactly, but I know that I had a feeling deep inside me that never left. It was if you finally knew that the power was never going to let certain things happen. If you looked to change things too much, too fast, that power would rise up in one form or another and take you out. We had seen this happen and then happen again and again. It was like it was beaten into us through repetition. Life changed! There was a sense of paranoia that started creeping in in 68.

The freewheeling open mindedness of the early 60's began dissipating like a slow leak in a tire. It took some time, but the paranoia was definitely there to stay. During that time, I was kind of reevaluating my own position in life when STEVE CLARK came to me and said that he was having financial difficulties and couldn't continue paying me the $100. a week salary for writing songs for SINCE MUSIC. This was a devastating blow to me, but Steve said he was trying to get BOB ROSS, who owned HARMONY RECORDING STUDIO, to take on my publishing at Bob's own company, TERESA MUSIC.

Had I known at the time that Steve's reason for putting me with Bob Ross was because Steve had used up my VERVE advance, that he'd stolen from me, my whole life might have gone in a different direction. I liked Bob Ross alright and he had a genuine interest in me so it was ok for a while, at least I could keep getting a $100. a week, which I totally depended on. CURT BOETTCHER had basically worked himself out of Steve's grasp and was slowly but surely making new plans for himself and Michelle O Malley, Jim Bell and other Boettcher loyalists who had previously worked with Steve.

I just stayed where I was, because Bob Ross was going to pay me and I didn't want to be completely broke again. There was talk of a new album but there was no label offering to foot the bill at the time. I had brought the Verve deal to Steve Clark the first time around, but now I was no help as far as interested record companies. Possibly Steve's reputation coupled with mine was more than some people wanted to chance at the time, who knows, but Bob Ross wasn't afraid and he kept the idea of an album alive and had his own studio where we could cut the record which would make it easier than having to go out and rent studio time somewhere else, which was expensive.

Between Steve and Bob cutting deals with each other using my writing and publishing and me as the artist for chips, they somehow managed to strike up a deal between them that they both could live with. Once again, I just stayed around because of the 100 bucks a week, it was that simple for me.

2009-04-08T22:06:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, JUNE 17, 2008

(part 72) CHOOSING THE SONGS FOR THE ALBUM "WORKING"

I was drinking Southern Comfort when I began thinking about making "WORKING" and of course I was still taking pills. The reason that I got started on Southern Comfort was because of JANICE JOPLIN, who drank that stuff by choice. In 67 or 68 I had watched BLUE CHEER and JANICE do a gig at the WHISKEY A GO GO. Afterwards I ended up at a cabin style motel in Hollywood, on Sunset Blvd., east of La Brea I think, with two members of BLUE CHEER to see Janice, who was staying there. We waited around for a while and she finally showed up with a quart of Southern Comfort in her hand. She was laughing and joking with the two guys from the Cheer, who she knew well from San Franciso, and kinda glanced over at me like a candy bar.

I remember watching her put that bottle to her mouth and chug a lugging an amazing amount of alcohol on the spot. I was so impressed by her ability to consume that much booze that quickly, that I became a fervent user of the stuff, and always told people about Janice when they asked how I could drink that shit. The reason we were all at the motel to meet with Janice was kind of a cattle call for her, somethings guys have been doing forever. In Janice's case it was in reverse. She wanted to look the goods over and pick one as her choice. On that particular night I guess I didn't strike her fancy, I didn't know whether I should have felt lucky or insulted.

Anyway that's why I started drinking Southern Comfort, which is a lethally sweet alcohol, in your choice of 86 or a 100 proof, I drank the latter. As the possibility of making another album became more and more a reality I thought long and hard about the enormous amount of controversy some of my song writing had created. I thought that possibly using other people's songs might be a worthwhile change if I actually did do another album. I can't really remember how much I discussed this with Steve Clark and Bob Ross, but as a fact it became reality.

There was another fact that played in this outcome and that was that I used to sit at the piano and actually play these songs and sing them like a live solo performance. COLOR HIM IN had been all overdubs. That means, if you don't know, that the musicians played the music track without me singing and then when they were done I would listen to what they did on earphones and sing along after the fact. It's a common way of recording, but a lot of the time it just kills the performance of live recording. So in the case of "WORKING" one of the things I wanted to do was to make it more "live." The fact that I could and did sit down and play these songs was one of the reasons the selections were chosen in the long run.

There were three songs written by me, "PALO ALTO" "BROKEN WINDOWS" and "BOUT BEIN YOUNG" that no one could be upset by for being "out there". If anything those three songs were as easy going as I could get. "PALO ALTO" was my answer to JIMMY WEBB'S "WICHITA LINEMAN" which I thought was a masterpiece by WEBB. "BOUT BEIN YOUNG" was my Dean Martin impression after hanging around his house for all those months and "BROKEN WINDOWS" was just a country song I wrote for the hell of it.

The rest of the songs were things I liked and played, with the exception of "GENTLE ON MY MIND". The reason that I cut that song the way I did is because of JOE COCKER'S version of THE BEATLES "WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS". If you know that rendition you'll know that Joe Cocker made it into a soulful remake that was a hit, so that's how my version of "GENTLE ON MY MIND" came into being. Don't get me wrong I actually played this song a lot before I cut it, but the GLEN CAMPBELL version was hard to top, so I reworked the song on the basis I outlined for a different approach and feeling. The rest of the songs on the album all have a story and I will go into them as best I can in my next post.

2009-04-08T21:51:00.000-07:00

SUNDAY, JUNE 22, 2008

(part 73) GETTING THE TEMPO RIGHT???

The other songs on "WORKING" are "DON'T THINK TWICE IT'S ALRIGHT" by Bob Dylan, "AIN'T THAT LOVIN YOU BABY" by Jimmy Reed, "SINGIN THE BLUES" by Melvin Endsley, "NORWEGIAN WOOD" by Lennon and McCartney, "I'LL BE YOUR BABY TONIGHT" by Bob Dylan, and "THE WEIGHT" by Robbie Robertson. These 6 songs plus the 4 previously mentioned, Gentle On My Mind by John Hartford and Palo Alto, Bout Bein Young and Broken Windows by me, make up the 10 songs of the album. As I said before these songs were songs I used to play at the piano by myself. They weren't just songs I picked out of nowhere. Many of the songs I have written were just written and demo'd or recorded and that was that.

Each of these songs were things I played over and over so they had a performance history in my life. The trouble with this, where the album was concerned, was that I learned to play these songs the way I played them not the way they were written. So when it came time to record these particular songs the players would tend to play them in the meter or tempo that they believed was correct. I on the other hand had developed a live performance tempo and meter that was at odds with the musicians reading of the songs for the basic tracks.

One of the drummers, JIM TROXELL who ended up not on the album and I had a pretty good fight in the studio about this. Jim, who I'd recorded with before, refused to alter his meter to my way of doing the songs. He kept telling me not to tell him how to play and I kept telling him to play what I was doing as opposed to telling me how to do it. This was the first time I'd ever stood my ground with musicians I'd always considered to be better than I was. It so offended TROXELL that he packed his stuff and left. TOXI FRENCH then became the drummer on everything.

No one else seemed to think this was a reason to quit and it was a small but significant victory for me in that I refused to have the meter changed for the sake of perfection. I was more interested in the recordings sounding real as opposed to perfect. I have played with some incredibly gifted people, but studio players have a tendency to almost be too good. THE BAND and CRAZY HOSRSE would be two examples of play it for real not for perfection, the perfection comes from the "real." This subject of tempo and or meter presented ongoing problems in constructing the basic tracks or musical tracks for the album.

Every time we'd get into playing the tracks prior to cutting them I'd notice that the tempo was changing and the songs were sounding different than the way I wanted to play them. All my vocal inflection would have to change to suit the tracks rather than the tracks supporting the way I sang the songs. In "COLOR HIM IN" I allowed this to happen and was never satisfied with the final results. In other words the songs ended up not being the song I had written but a version of the song I had written.

On "WORKING" I was bound and determined to sing the songs the way I sang them, not sing them the way they were played. Many would say that the album suffered because of this but I would disagree. The arrangements on a number of the songs were not to my liking, but the vocals on a number of the songs are dead on for my purposes. Had I been able to have more time constructing all of the elements to enhance each other, the album would have been markedly better, but at the time the goddamn money clock kept running and I was limited to doing the best I could.

My way of solving the meter problem once and for all was to play all the songs on the piano, by myself, and record them. Once that was accomplished the arrangers, there were 3 of them, and musicians could do their stuff to what I had done rather than visa versa. This was completely ass backwards, but the more it was discussed the more everybody seemed to think it could be done. Fortunately most of the players had played with me before and were willing to go the extra mile to get it right. Jimmy Burton, who played Dobro guitar on the session had never played with me before, but was willing to go along with everybody else.

The "WORKING" sessions in 1968 were the first time JERRY SCHEFF and JAMES BURTON had ever played together, this later resulted in Burton contacting Scheff to play bass In ELVIS PRESLEY'S Las Vegas show band, which Burton put together. Another first timer for me in those sessions was the legendary Steel guitar player RED RHODES who did some incredible work with James Burton on "THE WEIGHT" and "BROKEN WINDOWS".

2009-04-08T21:43:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 25, 2008

(part 74) "WORKING" THE 1968 SESSIONS

The musicians on the "WORKING" sessions in 1968 were MIKE DEASY guitar, JERRY SCHEFF bass, TOXI FRENCH drums, BEN BENAY guitar and harmoica, JAMES BURTON dobro guitar, RED RHODES steel guitar, strings and horns, SID SHARP, BILL KURDSCH, LEONARD MALARSKY, HAROLD DICKROW, TIBOR ZELIG, JESSE EHRLICH, ARMAND KAPROFF, ISRAEL BAKER, NATHAN GERSHMAN, BOBBY BRUCE, RAY KELLEY, JERRY GRANT, JAMES HORN, ROY CATRON, OLIE MITCHELL and DICK HYDE. The arrangers were SID FELLER, BEN BENAY and MIKE HENDERSEN. Produced by STEVE CLARK, engineered by FRED BORKGREN and recorded at BOB ROSS'S HARMONY RECORDING STUDIO in Hollywood. Piano and vocals by BOBBY JAMESON.

JIMMY REED'S "AIN'T THAT LOVIN YOU BABY" and BOB DYLAN'S "DON'T THINK TWICE IT'S ALRIGHT" were arranged by Mike Hendersen who played sax on "JENNY" from "COLOR HIM IN". The New Orleans string and horn arrangements for those two songs were similar to the arrangements of Bob Dylan's "EVERYBODY MUST GET STONED". The vocal I did on "Ain't That Lovin You Baby" was a flat out half drunken rendition of the song that if nothing else gets your attention. "Don't Think Twice It's Alright" is a bit more relaxed, but again, is colored with the fact that I was pretty well wrecked when I did these two tunes.

The vocals give a lot and are lacking a lot simultaneously. If nothing else they are live recordings and not overdubbed, so they don't have the control factor of rerecording each vocal till it's perfect. The quality is more like a stage performance than a studio recording. Some people hate this album for that reason. The vocals on "PALO ALTO", "BOUT BEIN YOUNG" and "BROKEN WINDOWS" are far more controlled and have a studio quality to them. "Palo Alto" was a song I wrote about my mother and the fact that I didn't believe we knew each other too well and I wondered if we ever would. I placed the lyrics in a what if situation regarding life and death and questioned whether anything would ever change.

"PALO ALTO" was arranged by SID FELLER who also did the arrangements for "GENTLE ON MY MIND" and "BOUT BEIN YOUNG". "TO RAMONA" was the fourth song arranged by Sid Feller and I have already stated it did not make the album. That was a choice by GRT executive RON CRAMER who decided the album was too long. GRT stands for GENERAL RECORDED TAPE, the label that released "WORKING".

Sid Feller had done arranging for RAY CHARLES in the past, but I was not satisfied with his work. I felt that he over arranged the songs and that they would have been better if they were leaner in the overly lavish string and horn arrangements. Once again I was not in control of the album and had no say about this at the time of the recording. I am of the belief that my vocal on "Gentle On My Mind" is one of my best efforts and wish that the arrangement was more like a JIMMY WEBB arrangement.

Sometimes less is more when it is used surgically. Sid's arrangements were overbearing at times and fought with what I was doing vocally. On the other hand everything but my voice and piano was overdubbed so I guess it was hard for them to write their arrangements after the fact as opposed to before which I know they were used to. It was the only way I could get the songs recorded the way I wanted though, so on one hand it works and on the other it doesn't. The one thing I could say about WORKING was that I could sit down at a piano and play the whole damn album the same way it was recorded, that was not the case with "COLOR HIM IN".

2009-04-08T21:27:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, JUNE 27, 2008

(part 75) MY LAST DITCH EFFORT

Trying to make "WORKING" work was my last ditch effort as a recording artist in 1968. Parts of the album are in a way desperate, when I listen to how hard I was trying to make things work. Some of the vocals are exactly what I wanted some are attempts at it. As alcohol and drugs continued to play a larger and larger roll in my life during the recording of this album I would reach higher and fall lower than I had at any time previously. On some days I was completely ok on others I was prone to violent outbursts depending on what I had in my system and how much of it I'd had. I

n 1968, the past years had begun to take a serious toll on my ability to gage how loaded I was or how loaded I was getting. Trying to record in that self imposed environment was hit and miss to say the least. Because I was not only addicted to drugs and alcohol, but to fame as well, I lived at times in a world constructed of unreasonable demands and bitter resentment about my past dreams and current failures. My need for attention and my demands for it continued to wreak havoc with my personality throughout the making of "WORKING".

Unfortunately I was again putting all my eggs, as it were, in a single basket in the hope that this time was the time and that this record was the one, which it was not. I always seemed to do the same thing over again, as I'd done before, expecting a different and better result than I'd had in the past. It seemed to be the only way I could do things. I had never learned how to deal with anything, I just learned how to make records and write songs and then do it again and again. My skills at being a person were limited to being a recording artist and a song writer in search of fame and fortune.

To be honest, I didn't ever understand anything outside of that view of the world. There it was and here I was and my job was to get the world to accept me, rather than me finding a constructive way to fit into the world. So in essence, I was always at war with everything around me, unless it went my way. The drugs and alcohol just tended to magnify all of it and that is why "WORKING" was so important to me, then and now. It was my last cohesive attempt at getting the world to accept BOBBY JAMESON, which they never did.

I will attempt to make as clear as I can the ins and outs of constructing "WORKING" and the time spent with some extremely generous and talented musicians who helped me create the last album I released in 1969. The album is shot through with my then growing interest in suicide as an answer to my life. It was my fear of another failure at the time the "WORKING" album was recorded that is the source of the desperation and tiredness in these vocals.

2009-04-08T21:24:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, JUNE 27, 2008

(part 76) THE WEIGHT from "WORKING" 1969

This is one of my favorite songs from the album WORKING. It was originally done by The Band and written by Robie Robertson. The dobro guitar by James Burton and steel guitar by Red Rhodes playing off each other are a stand out.

2009-04-08T21:21:00.000-07:00

(part 77) GENTLE ON MY MIND FROM THE ALBUM "WORKING"

2009-04-08T21:17:00.000-07:00

MONDAY, JUNE 30, 2008

(part 78) TO RAMONA CUT IN 1968 FOR THE ALBUM "WORKING"

As I mentioned this Bob Dylan song was cut in 1968 during the sessions for "WORKING" but was pulled from the album by Company Executive Ron Cramer, because he thought the album was too long.

2009-04-08T20:52:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY, JULY 3, 2008

(part 79) BROKEN WINDOWS

"WORKING" is the most obscure of the 3 Jameson albums. Because of this far less attention has been paid to this work, which continues to be the case today. Other than my friend at "ECHOES IN THE WIND" and a couple of other music blogs almost no one has ever heard this recording until now. There is no built in interest for this album like there was for "COLOR HIM IN" and CHRIS LUCEY'S "SONGS OF PROTEST AND ANTI PROTEST". The other two recordings have been re-released on CD "WORKING" has not. As I have moved into this particular segment of the Bobby Jameson story, aka disaster, the interest has fallen off, proving that there is more interest in certain parts of the story than there is interest in the whole story.

Kind of like a buffet rather than a meal. People have stopped in to sample what they have a taste for and then leave with a doggy bag of scraps for later. Unfortunately for me, I am stuck with the whole thing, not only telling it, but living through it only to relive it again in the telling of it to you. Because there is such little interest in "WORKING" and what is contained musically "between the grooves" as it were, there may be some sort of shock value at hearing a country song like "BROKEN WINDOWS" which is one of the 3 songs I wrote on this album.

I'm sure if you take a chance and listen to some of this music from "WORKING" you just might find what my friend "WHITERAY" found, a highly personal creationby and artist, and an album cut in 1968 by the same human being that made "COLOR HIM IN" and "SONGS OF PROTEST". This is the only complete and accurate information and music resource on the planet regarding the musical career and life of Bobby Jameson(aka)Chis Lucey that exists. It is not here to make you like me or agree with me, it is here as an ongoing record of factual information. It's more like a museum than a blog for passers by. If you hear clicks and scratchy noises on all of the recordings from "WORKING" posted here, it's because they have been taken directly off 40 year old vinyl. Once again I must thank RED RHODES, JAMES BURTON, JERRY SCHEFF, BEN BENAY and TOXI FRENCH for their wonderful work.

2009-04-08T20:39:00.000-07:00

FRIDAY, JULY 4, 2008

(part 80) NANCY, ME AND THE ALBUM.

As I struggled through the making of "WORKING" Nancy Harwood and I subletted an apartment from Timmy Rooney, one of Mickey Rooney's sons. It was across the street from the Shoreham Towers where Diane Linkletter lived on the 6th floor. I had moved out of Howard Gilliam's house when he found he could not make me do what ever it was he would decide that I should do. I had argued with him about performing solo at the WHISKEY A GO GO and he had lost patience with me over my position, that if he would help me put a band together, I'd do it.

His position was I didn't need a band, which was the position Tony Alamo had taken, that I'd grown weary of. Anyway, that led to a break between Howard and me and Nancy and I moved on. We ended up with a roommate in the new place, because he already lived in the apartment, his named was Ed Durston. I didn't want another roommate, but it was the only way Nancy and I could live there. It was on the second floor of the building and underneath us lived another musician named Jimmy George. Over the next number of months I would get to know these people pretty well, plus a number of others, and they would all play a major role in another turning point in my life.

Ed Durston was a shady dude, to say the least, but was highly intelligent and very quick witted, so if nothing else he was fun to spar with mentally and verbally. I had to keep my eye on him though, because his interest in Nancy was obvious. Along with just about everybody else during those times, Ed was a loady, and to some extent that was more of a convenience than a problem. Ed always knew where to get drugs so he served a purpose in the long run. Timmy Rooney and his brother Mickey Jr. were always dropping by and they were already friends with Diane Linkletter, so within a short amount of time both Nancy and I would also get to know Diane quite well.

Parts of "WORKING" were heavily affected by the constant drugging and drinking that had become synonymous with the personality of Bobby Jameson. Some of the albums weakest points are the vocals which were perfomed by me while drunk, such as, "SINGIN THE BLUES", "AIN'T THAT LOVIN YOU BABY" and "NORWEGIAN WOOD". There is no other way to say it except I was "fucked up". "I'LL BE YOUR BABY TONIGHT" and "DON'T THINK TWICE IT'S ALRIGHT" don't suffer quite as much as the 3 just mentioned, but it is obvious there is some weakness with those performances as well.

This may all seem repetitive and boring as sin to some, but it is indicative of the physical and psychological slide I was on. There is and was a reason for everything, and what I am relating here is important as fact to the overall story as it truly unfolded at the time. Each successive decline contributed to the next decline etc. So to continue, the making of "WORKING" and it's strengths and weaknesses became a reflection of my life and visa versa, or, so went the album so went I, and so went I went the album. They were never separated from each other, they were one thing. This is why I ultimately crashed and burned as a human being. I had no ability to put each in it's own place. If one failed the other failed right along with it and that was the case with "WORKING".

Both "PALO ALTO" and "BOUT BEIN YOUNG" were well done performances, which is not to say you should like them or not, they were just handled with a lot more care than some of the others. If in fact the whole album was a piece of garbage, as some seem to think it was and is, then I would have crashed even sooner than I ultimately did. It was the hope that there was enough good about the album to override it's apparent weaknesses that kept me hanging on by a long thin thread. Nancy was always by my side during these times, reenforcing my value as an artist and person, even when I was not capable of doing the same for myself. She knew how important she was to me and I knew how important I was to her. We were connected together by some invisible bond that was impenetrable by the world around us.

Nancy saw the absolute best in me no matter what anyone else said or thought, it was absolute. There was no question for her about me and likewise was my reliance on and for her. We walked through some very heavy shit together and to this day I have nothing but the highest of praise to offer her. If the world had more people like Nancy Harwood it would just be a far better place for everyone, period. She gave far more than she ever tried to get for herself and I was extremely lucky to have known her and to have had her with me during those times. When the world came crashing down on top of me, and it always did and still does, Nancy was there to help scoop me up off the pavement, that's just the way it was then and it never changed.

2009-04-07T23:15:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, JULY 15, 2008

(part 81) DIANE LINKLETTER, TIMMY ROONEY AND HOLLYWOOD PARK

Our apartment was on Horn Ave at 1211, directly across the street from the Shoreham Towers where Diane Linkletter lived. Both Nancy and I became friends with her and used to say she was one of the least screwed up people we knew in Hollywood. Timmy Rooney was the other one who seemed to have his head on straight in a Town where just about everyone and everything was bent to one degree or another.

Diane used to talk to me about her father Art Linkletter quite a lot. Her main problem with him, according to Diane, was that he was always trying to control her life and who was in it. Every time she'd get involved with somebody Art would show up and give the guy money to leave and then say to Diane, "See, he just wanted money and I proved it to you by giving him some and now he's gone, see honey that's all they want from you, your money and your name". Diane would get really depressed about this and say if he would only stop and let me live my own life everything would be ok, "If he would just let me pick my own friends and have a boy friend."

As 1969 rolled along and "Working" finished being cut, there was not much hint of what label was going to release it. Bob Ross had pretty much fronted the entire cost of the recording and had also been paying me the $100 a week, ever since I'd moved over to TERESA MUSIC from SINCE MUSIC. Physically we hadn't gone anywhere different, it was just a change on paper and a matter of who signed the check. Bob wasn't rich or anything, but I guess he was comfortable at his age, even though there was still the need to get things wrapped up and signed to a label, so he could hope to recoup some or all of his investment. Bob Ross Music was a music copying service that had been in Hollywood for decades. He had a good reputation and a good business that was next door to the Vine Tower, where Steve Clark's office was, at Vine and Sunset Blvd.

Bob's business was in a old Hollywood frame house, that had been on that lot for a long time. It was the old verses the new. The little frame house and a 25 or 30 story highrise next to it. It symbolized the ever changing nature of old Hollywood and the new go getter bullshit artists, like Steve, in the new Hollywood. Where once your word was your bond, like with Bob Ross, your word now became a matter of convenience for the moment, like with Steve, who was the king of bullshit and one liners. Steve was a master of deception and always stayed one foot in front of everybody, in the end this would prove to be fatal for him.

"WORKING" was acquired by GENERAL RECORDED TAPE or GRT Records as it was called. The head cheese ball on the west coast was another murky individual named Ron Cramer, who was one of the worst record company executives I ever met. Steve and Ron worked out some sort of deal in the dark about "WORKING" and to this day I have no idea what actually transpired. I do know that on the day I found out the deal was being done, at the 9000 Building on Sunset Blvd., I raced up to West Hollywood and caught Steve just as he was leaving the building with his "bookie". I told him if he didn't pay me this time, for cutting the goddamn album, "I was gonna kill him."

Right there in broad daylight, on the steps of the 9000 building, I told him to his face, while he and Tony, the bookie, stared at me in disbelief. We all just stood there for a minute looking at each other and I said, "I'm not kidding you Steve, I'm tired of getting fucked by you and working for free!" I was not moving from my spot and Steve seemed to be confused by my direct assault on his integrity. "Well how much do you want?" he asked. I said, "A $1000 and he agreed. We went back in the building, where there was a bank, and we walked out minutes later buddies. From there, Steve, Tony, and I all went to HOLLYWOOD PARK race track together.

2009-04-07T22:55:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY, JULY 15, 2008

(part 82) ART LINKLETTER, CONTROL FREAK

From bobby jameson

This is a picture of the SHOREHAM TOWERS, the building where Diane Linkletter lived. To the left of this shot is Horn Ave. where Nancy and I lived with Ed Durston. As I mentioned earlier, Diane had a major problem with her dad, Art Linkletter, who was a control freak and attempted, successfully, to intervene in every single attempt by Diane to have a boyfriend. When I got to know Diane, she had met and was extremely happy about it, a guy name HARVEY DAREFF, who I found out in the long run was a good guy and saw more in Diane than her famous name and bank account.

When her dad found out about Harvey he pulled his usual bullshit and appeared on the scene to carry out his dirty work. Art Linkletter showed up to meet Harvey one day and shoved a $10,000 check in Harvey's face and told him to take the money and stay away from Diane. Harvey took the check and tore it into little pieces and threw it in Art's face and said "No" thus canceling out Art's theory that all any guy wanted from Diane was her money. When I learned this about Harvey, I accepted him as a friend and someone who cared about Diane as a person not just a meal ticket. I never changed my opinion of Harvey.

On the street we would call him a "righteous dude" implying that there was more to Harvey than met the eye. Art Linkletter was incensed that his crappy little game had backfired and set out to get rid of Harvey one way or another, which again he was successful in doing. Art liked CONTROL, he would go to any length to get his way, period. More than anything else in Diane Linkletter's life, this incident proved to be the final straw and catalyst that pushed Diane over the edge. In conversations with me she complained that her life was not worth living in, unless she could get her father to stop fucking up every relationship she attempted to have. She told me she had even started having relationships with other women, because she was so goddamned lonely, that too proved to be another ticket to more of Diane's sorrow.

The trouble with people like Art Linkletter, is that they have constructed a false image of goodness about themselves, and use it to manipulate the world around them to their own satisfaction. Prior to Diane's death, Linkletter's oldest daughter's husband also committed suicide by shooting himself. Maybe someone ought to ask what the fuck was going on in that family that caused 2 young people to end their lives in rapid succession. Art Linkletter used his daughter's death to blame all things on drugs and thus removing himself as any possible cause for the tragedy. My experience in 1969 with Diane, was that her father Art had more to do with her death than any other single factor there was.

2009-04-07T22:41:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, JULY 16, 2008

(part 83) "WORKING" AND NOT "WORKING"

1969 sucked! It drug itself along like a carcass looking for life. GRT RECORDS released "WORKING", but no one ever knew it. It was like it didn't exist at all. No promotion of any kind, no nothing. It just got pressed up as a piece of vinyl and put into a jacket and that was that. As the reality and facts of this drained into my consciousness I just started giving up as a person way down deep inside myself. I began to realize at depth, the pathetic nature of my time in the record business. With the exception of "I'M SO LONELY", everything that followed had been, at the time, a dismal failure. I'm not talking about what people ultimately felt and thought about my work 40 years later, I'm talking about the sixties, when all this happened.

At one point I had Bobby Darin hear "WORKING" so I could get his opinion about it. After listening to the album he began chopping it to bits and telling me why it was bad here and why this didn't work etc. I left even more deflated than ever. All I wanted to do was get loaded and stay loaded. I was tired of my life and trying to fit into a business and town that didn't seem to want me on any level.

At some point Bob Ross announced to me that he would NOT continue to pay me the $100 a week for writing songs for his company, TERESA MUSIC. My response to this, was to go to Bob Ross Music, in the little frame house, and take the 24 track master of "WORKING" and walk out the door with it. I was met by a guy named Howard, who was Bob's lackey, and confronted at the door. "What are you doing with that tape?", he asked, "I'm taking it!" I said. "I can't let you do that Bobby that belongs to the company." Howard said. "Fuck you and the company." I replied, "Now get the fuck outta my way." Howard knew about me and was none to eager to get into a direct conflict, because everybody pretty much thought I was nuts by that time and they were afraid of me. Howard let me pass and I left with the tape, which I still have in my possession today. The only thing I regret is not getting both tapes, I have half of the entire "WORKING" master on 24 track, I do not know which half.

I was busted for grand theft auto in 1969, in Benedict Canyon, by LAPD Valley Division, along with Ed Durston and Harvey Dareff, Diane Linkletter's boyfriend. We didn't steal a car or anything, we were driving a rental car that no one had paid the rent on, which we did not know at the time we were driving it. I was the driver. It was a Cadillac and I had gone up to Benedict Canyon to show these guys where I used to live in 1964, with Lois Johston. I had continued up through the canyon where we were stopped by the police and arrested.

3 days later they got the story straight and let us all go. The reason I tell you this is because Benedict Canyon is where the Tate Murders occurred some time later, which is why I'm mentioned on the Manson site along with Harvey Dareff. We had been in the vicinity prior to that event. The two things were not connected, but the record of our having been nearby caused us to be looked at by the police. I in no way believe my explanation will satisfy you, but I offer it anyway, as factually accurate.

After going through the last year of my life I no longer believe in the good intentions of human beings. Some people are fine, but many more of them are looking for every crappy thing they can dig up on me, as has been the case for decades. This is my story and I have to expect the worst and hope for the best in telling it, but I need to reiterate my dismay at the human condition, which has not improved at all since I dropped out of sight 23 years ago and then returned only 1 year ago, to pretty much the same old shit, but worse.

2009-04-07T21:05:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY, JULY 17, 2008

(part 84) SHARON TATE AND DIANE LINKLETTER GONE

In the early part of August 1969, we all woke to the Murder of Sharon Tate, Jay Sebring and others. At that particular time, it was unknown who had committed this act, but it none the less ran through the Hollywood and surrounding area like ice water on a cold day. This slaughter was followed a short time later by another equally morbid multiple homicide of innocents. It was the mind set, in late 1969, of the town we lived in, as well as all of Southern California and for that matter most of the world. A totally negative view of Hollywood and L A in general. You couldn't escape it, it was just there, and it hung in the atmosphere for a long and persistent period of time.

In my mind, it summed up the way I felt about life itself. That at any moment, it could just fold up and die. I am not trying to be morbid or unnecessarily grim, I am just telling you exactly how it was at the time following both those killings. As I have stated earlier, I was already on my own downhill slide into a personal hell, so this occurrence, as you might imagine, just added fuel to the fire. I knew by then that everything in my life was caving in and I knew Nancy and I couldn't afford to live in the apartment On Horn Ave. any longer.

I wasn't getting paid and Nancy wasn't working, because up until then she didn't have to, but all of a sudden we were forced to scramble and that's what we did. We had about a month or so left to live at the apartment and then we didn't know. Being that we all were piss poor at dealing with reality on a day to day basis, our choice for coping with this mess, was to get extremely loaded and act as if everything was gonna be fine, which it wasn't. So that was how we dealt with the sinking ship, we moved the deck chairs to the upper deck and ordered cocktails. Unfortunately this process of refusing to take responsibility for my own life and that of those around me, who were affected by my self centered choice, led to an overwhelming sense of defeat within me that was lethal in the long run.

I couldn't find what I'd always used in the past, a sense of "fuck it" I'll just make another record and get on with it. This time was different! I just didn't care. I could not get it going, because the nagging sense of "what's the use" had for the first time in my life taken refuge in my thinking. It was the most debilitating sense of hopelessness I had ever encountered and was being magnified by current events and drugs and alcohol. The only relief at the time was more drugs and more alcohol to blot out reality, which of course made it that much worse.

I have no recollection whatsoever of Diane Linkletter being a big time loady, to the contrary, she would be around all of us at times when we were fucked up, but she was not fucked up. I am not saying she never got loaded what I am saying is that she was not excessive. We all admired her for that, because she kept her shit together, that's how I remember her, as dignified and together within a framework of utter distraction perpetrated by the rest of us. Nancy too was not chaotic, but indulged more than Diane. I knew Diane was prone to become depressed and forlorn over her problems with her father, but I never thought it was something to get overly concerned about.

Right before Nancy and I left the apartment on Horn Ave. for good I spoke with Diane privately for the last time. She had just inherited a quarter of a million dollars for her 21st birthday and told me it didn't mean shit to her and that she really didn't want to take it because it just made her feel more controlled by her father Art. I told her "fuck it, take the money Diane, and then go do what you wanna do." She agreed that that made sense to her and I believed she was ok when I left her, I had no idea of how wrong I was going to be.

Nancy and I moved into an apartment on Sweetzer in West Hollywood. I had agreed to be the gardener for the building which was managed by a guy named Joe Steck, who had written the screenplay for WATERHOLE #3 a movie with James Coburn. I don't remember how I met Joe or why I agreed to be the gardener but Nancy and I needed a place to go and that's where we ended up in late 1969. Joe and his wife Judy, who had once been a go go dancer at the Whiskey, said we could give out their phone # to a few people so they could contact us. I still remember the day I got the phone call from Timmy Rooney. "Hey Tim", I said, "How's it goin?" "Not so good", he answered, "I guess you didn't hear." "Hear what?" I asked, "Diane." "Diane what?" I asked, "Diane, she committed suicide." There was dead silence on the phone. I had no way to incorporate what I had just heard into my brain, it was stunned silence.

2009-04-07T20:41:00.000-07:00

MONDAY, JULY 21, 2008

(part 85) ME, JIMMY GEORGE, ED DURSTON AND DIANE

My friend Terri reminded me to remind the reader how old I was when this all happened, and I agreed that was something I needed to do. It was 1969 and I had started all this record making in 1964, so it was only about a five year period that I have covered. I was 19 years old when I recorded "I'M SO LONELY" for TONY ALAMO and I was just a kid. 5 years later I felt a hundred years old and I was still only 24 years old and a full bore addict alcoholic.

I went up to HORN AVE. to talk to Ed Durston, after Timmy Rooney told me he was in the apartment when Diane jumped from her 6th floor kitchen window a few days earlier. I also wanted to see Jimmy George, who lived underneath where Nancy and I had lived with Ed. From what I'd learned, Jimmy had actually been outside his apartment and had seen Diane falling to the pavement below. At first he'd thought someone was playing a practical joke and had thrown something out the window, but then realized it was a person. He hadn't know at first that it was Diane, but had seen her hit the ground. He was pretty much in shock, but he ran over to where the person had hit the pavement then realizing it was Diane.

He told me that he could not do anything and it made him feel like an asshole. He said she was still alive when he reached her and that she looked up at him, but couldn't speak. He said she was bleeding a lot from her head and he wanted to help her, but didn't know what to do. I knew Jimmy and he was a happy go lucky guy, but on this day he was broken in a way that is hard to describe, just broken. I tried to tell him there wasn't anything he could have done, but how do you tell somebody that, after what he'd seen. He was the only one on the planet who had seen it, how the hell did I know how he felt or what it was doing to him? It was the last time I ever saw him and to this day I still don't really know how that may have altered his life.

When I got to Ed, he was doing better than Jimmy, but he still looked like he'd been through the ringer. I asked him, "What the fuck happened Ed, what the fuck was going on?" He looked up at me from where he was sitting and said, "I don't know man, I really don't know. We were just there, talking for a long time about life, you know, like half the night and everything was ok and then she just started acting crazy," he said. "What kind of crazy?" I asked. "Well, we were sitting on the couch and she got up and went out on the balcony and just started climbing up on the railing like she was gonna jump off and I ran out there and drug her off and pulled her back into the living room and pinned her down on the floor and said what the fuck are you doing Diane, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Ed was ringing his hands as he related this story to me and was obviously having trouble recounting the event. "So did she tell you what was wrong?" I pleaded, "No!" said Ed, "she told me she was just screwing around and everything was ok and to let her up, because it was just a joke." Ed kept rubbing his hands together like he couldn't get them clean, so he just kept rubbing them together. He continued on, saying, "I made her promise me that if I let her up she wasn't gonna do anything crazy and she said I promise. I let her up and she said she was going to go in the kitchen and get a glass of water and I said ok." Ed looked like he might start crying at any second and I didn't blame him, because it was all too awful to comprehend.

Ed continued on, "She walked into the kitchen and I turned around to watch her. She just climbed up on the countertop, by the window over the sink, and I ran into the kitchen and tried to grab her, but she just went out the window before I could get there." He paused for a moment, as if to get his courage up and said, "I had a hold of her ankle man, I had her by the ankle, but I couldn't hold her, I just couldn't hold her man." I stood there in front of Ed with this clear picture of Diane's kitchen in my head with her going out the window and Ed trying to hold her by the ankle and I just broke down like a little boy, I just couldn't believe that this had happened. I stood there in front of Ed for I don't know how long and just sobbed, because there wasn't anything I could do about it either.

2009-04-07T20:24:00.000-07:00

WEDNESDAY, JULY 30, 2008

(part 86) THE DAY MY WORLD ENDED

From bobby jameson

This is my brother Bill. In 1969, following Diane Linkletter's death, Bill was living with our father in Radnor Pennsylvania Bill Jameson senior and wife Loiuse. I was in L A with Nancy on Sweetzer, in West Hollywood. My entire life was sinking into some sort of dark forbidden place and I was unable to stop the emotional and psychological demise. I began drinking enormous amounts of alcohol because I could not get hold of any drugs. The death of Diane had gotten to me on a level I had no prior experience with, so I was unable to rationally deal with the aftermath in any constructive way. The Manson Murders, Diane's death and the loss of everything in my career, were coupled up in a destructive atmosphere, which overwhelmed and enveloped me.

Nancy was with me, but was powerless to help pull me out of this destructive state and at some point I knew she was going to be dragged down with me. I began telling her she had to get away from me because I was worthless but she would not go. She had decided somewhere inside herself that where I went, good or bad, she would go with me, even if that meant dying. I was doing just enough yardwork at the building on Sweetzer to maintain the right to the apartment Nancy and I lived in. We didn't eat much and any extra money, of which there was little, was spent on alcohol and small amounts of food. My hope was, and I mean this in the most desperate way, that I would be allowed to join my brother Bill in Penn. and get the hell away from L A.

That did not happen, to the contrary, I was contacted at some point by my mother, I think, and told that the message from my father was, "don't send Bob." This single act was like a hammer in my head. "DON'T SEND BOB!" Once again I felt as though the forces of the world were stacked against me and that I was no match for them. What once had been a proud person who was able to overcome any obstacle in my path, was quickly becoming a person crushed by each new challenge that arose.

1969 turned into 1970 and the darkness of the times came right along with it. Nancy and I wandered through the haze together with little help from anyone other than Joe Steck and his wife, who managed the building where we lived. Fortunately at the time, Joe saw me in a light that was not as negative as the view most others had of me. He was more philosophical about it, which allowed me a place in the building. He understood the pain and misery I was engulfed in from a different vantage point. To him it was a massive learning experience for me rather than the ultimate end to Bobby Jameson.

Conversely, both Joe and Judy, his wife, were concerned, as I was, for Nancy, who was determined not to leave me. I am a bit foggy on a fact here regarding Nancy, and that is, at some point I got her to leave. It was one of the most unselfish things I had ever done. I was more concerned with her well being than my own. The fact that I am having trouble remembering, is whether I managed to get her to leave before or after the next god awful event that came crashing into my life. On a sunny California day in 1970 I was told that my mother was trying to reach me by Joe. I walked south, on Sweetzer, down to Santa Monica Blvd. where there was a Mayfair market and a telephone booth. I called my Mother and asked her what the trouble was and this is what I heard, which I will never forget as long as I live. "I don't know how important this is to you Bob but your father Bill committed suicide."