(Part 23) Me, Mick, And Andrew In The Studio

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 2, 2008

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.

(Part 24) Why I Tell My At All

SATURDAY JANUARY 5, 2008


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 is 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

(Part 25) Thank Your Lucky Stars

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 9, 2008

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.

(Part 26) So Now What Do I Do? Number 2

TUESDAY, JANUARY 15, 2008

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.

(Part 27) Alcohol Saved My Ass

MONDAY, JANUARY 21, 2008


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.

(Part 28) A New Company And A New Start

FRIDAY, JANUARY 25, 2008


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.

(Part 29) The Glove "An American Pop Whore" In Lndon

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 2008

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.

(Part 30) "The Glove" Another TV Disaster

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2008



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.

(Part 31) American Pop Star Goes Home A Failure

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2008


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.


Please Mr. Mailman...1 of 2 different b-sides for the single Rum Pum

(Part 32) Looking Back Abd Moving Forward

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2008

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.