DEMIAN'S STORY
At the Spicewood Springs House, early spring, 1970-
We've made
the decision to move to Los Angeles, and
Chaos
rules our lives. Incoming, all directions…
I.A. has
threatened to claim our equipment-amps and
p.a.- bought
with the advance that lured us back into
their studio
for the "What Do You See" sessions.
Let's
fill in the blanks, shall we?
Equipment
advance, $8k, previous advances, maybe $iok,
and I'm
being very lenient here. So, say $18k- like we've
stolen this
from 'em.
John
T Potter, Sr- Todd's dad, has filed legalities to force
A true accounting--
now, I.A.'s idea of an accounting turns
Out to be
the first class in"How Badly We'd Been Taken."
In
Johnny's words "apples and oranges in the same column"
Now, JTPotter,Sr-
Todd's Dad-- was secretary to the State of
Texas' Legislative
Council for many years, and this fiasco
Was beyond
endurance. As I've said, lawsuits flew…
My
point, however-- even if advances totaled$30K, what's
That , compared
to the profit take from a six-week, global
#1 hit?
Peanuts!
So, then- the stage is set--Amid this insanity, like some crazed
Norse mariner
we pack the pieces of our lives in a tandem
U-Haul trailer
and our faithful '68 Dodge van and head west.
The
standard Texas- California drill--too long, too far, too
Hot…. But
we'd left our Senior Roadcrew Chief, my high-
School best
friend Gene Corbin, to follow in two weeks
With the
bulk of our equipment……back to that in a moment.
In
due course, we arrive in the city of angels, take rooms at
(where else)
the Tropicana Hotel- Omaha Beach for all the
incoming
rockstar hopefuls, as well as groups like ourselves
--upper-echelon
rockers come to break into the L.A. scene.
From
that base of operations, Nick steered us toward our
Balance---
and booked us a week at the Valley's "Showcase
Club"…Irma's
Hotel?
Now,
I'd lived out there before--Pop was a topgun aircraft
Mechanic,
and from Lockheed to Rocketdyne, I spent my
Tender years
moving from Burbank to Chatsworth, some
Five years.
Pop loved to see the country, so every weekend
We'd check
out some new spot; it was cool then, I guess I was
Young enough
to appreciate the good stuff and forget the
Smog and
traffic. So I wasn't particularly intimidated by LA,
As such,
however, my life experiences didn't prepare me for
Irma's Hotel….
A small
room in the Valley, maybe 150 people, max. Out the
Gate, we've
got a large problem--our amps are sized to fill
2 to 4 thousand-seat
halls, and now we're expected to do
our fine--tuned
act in what was, literally, a coffeehouse .
Nick
rented some small amps, and we somehow managed to
Pull it
off. So much ,for so little--- the gig payed $90 a night
For the
whole band…
we looked
amongst ourselves, wondering…..
Still,
as Nicky said we would, we got oue ABC/Dunhill deal!
That label's
A&R hotshot, Marv Helfer, came several nights
And was
made to believe.
Gods,
Irma's was brutal for us, but like all else in LA, good
With the
bad. Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong shared the bill
With us
once or twice----very sweet people indeed.
On,
then--now the recording contract looks like a done deal,
still we
must attempt to secure legal aid from our Musicians
Union, Local
One. Please, let me back up for a moment here.
In the past
year or so, at all of our performances in Union-
Strong states,
the AFM would have a rep. At the door to
Collect
the AFM's share of the take(it was never like this in Texas)
and as we'd
done many, many east& midwest shows, the
AFM certainly
got their share.
With
these things in mind, we approached the Local One
Business
office with a plea for help. In due course, we're
Ushered
into top-floor sanctum of the Local#1 President
A large
man with a very large cigar. We state our case,
Making sure
he understands our faithful union standing,
And the
money the Union's been allowed to take at so many
Shows. He
hears the tale, then makes a phone call……
(does anyone
remember the three reptilians at IA?) yeah,
I thought
you might-- He hangs up, looking remorseful.
Says
Boys, I wish we could help, but there's nothing the AFM
Can do in
this matter. We say, what about our loyal contri-
Butions,
our years of faith in the AFM? Sorry, we just can't
Help you
in this---SLAM…..
Back
to Nick's..what now?? But Nicky has a plan! We'll
Change our
name to Demian (like Steppenwolf, another
Herman Hesse
novel), sign with ABC/Dunhill, and fuck 'em
Cool--an
assumed name! And so it was done…BubblePuppy
Is masked
as Demian for the sake of legalities.
Now, Gene's
story…..
Almost
the LostBoys--our #2 Crewmaster, Lynn Leas, some-
How sees
what's coming and decides he's done all that can
Be
done. Lynn won't do the LA thing for any money, not that
Money was
ever a point of reference. In my heart, I believe
Lynn had
given all his great heart could give, and wished to
Walk away
before the ugliness he saw coming could tarnish
The purity
of his service. A good man, Lynn-and a very close
Friend.
Strangely, to this day, he vanished completely….
Gone, as
if he was an Imagined being. But, I wander--
Consider
Gene's plight. The band's in LA, and he find himself alone
with the
rather large responsibility of somehow
Getting
all the equipment to LA as well. Somehow, he meets
Mark, aka
Electric Leon-- for he's from the other side
Of the fence,
so to speak. In '67, Austin had two distinct
Cultures--
the Longhaired Queers and the Goatropers. Now
Smarkus
was both, a cowboy attitude with a passion for hot
Rocknroll--a
groundbreaker, that one…very soon, most of
The Texas
dogfans were like Mark, country hearts, rockn
Roll souls.
Brutal, as I've said before. By '70, a good part
Of our carnivorous
fans were beerdrinkin', acideatin', speed
Snortin'
rednecks who loved our music!
Point
of fact, Gene now had an apprentice-- one who didn't
Know dick
from downtown Dallas, but would challenge
Anyone to
the death for BubblePuppy's good name.
Pay
attention! Comes a day at the Spicewood House….five
Members
of another IA band, Endel St. Cloud and the Rain,
Come down
on our home, sent by IA to take our gear. As you
Might imagine
Gene and Mark told 'em to bite and begone, but
Much sad
crap ensued, the Sherriff came, oddly enough,
Gene was
jailed, but our equipment wasn't stolen.
Years
later, Alan Mellinger called me to apologize for that
Day. He
told me(and I don't doubt it) that the company told 'em
We'd gone,
and anything they could grab was theirs. Alan
Was much
shamed by these things. When he called me in '73
He'd quit
music and was working with disabled children, a
Licensed
therapist-- it's a strange world, don't you think?
Now,
when Gene was arrested for guarding our gear, and
Word reached
us of the fiasco at our former home, it was
Very hard
for us to remain in LA (as one might imagine), for
We all wished
to claim bloodfeud, and return to fight!
Still,
Nick calmed us- and soon Gene, Mark, and all our gear
arrived
safely. We rented a small house and began the "Long Wait".
What I mean
by this is, simply put, we'd been so used to
Our brutal
rehearsal/performance regime for years. We
Truly knew
nothing else. Now, here's the sprawling LA met-
Ropolis,
in which we must RENT a place to rehearse. No more
Freedom
to wake up in the morning and play- now ideas must
Be saved
for a specific time… the ultimate heartbreaker!
Still,
we held faith, and the Demian sessions at the Record
Plant came.
Initially,
the label had tagged a young producer, Bill
Szymzik
of Eagles fame, to pilot the Demian recordings.
Sadly,
Bill and Nick didn't mesh- Bill walked , leaving Nicky
As producer.
Now,
as you know, we'd done this shit many, many times, and
An LA topflight
studio situation was one, if not the main
Reason for
our move to the coast. Sadly, the available time
Slot was
10pm to 6am…still, we took 'em as they were given.
Stay
with me for a minute, this is guitarplayer stuff- - at that
Time, very
few players had been given the knowledge of the
Lubricated
nut(Top of the neck) that would enable almost
Any guitar
to hold it's tuning. The "Hot Smoke" Gibson 335
Pinged and
popped for lack of lubrication, and in my blind
Ignorance,
the '35 had let me down…. In rage, I slammed that
Axe to the
floor, trashing the guitar that had given us "Hot
Smoke"….."Windy
City" is the last track done on my Longtime
Friend.
Nick
bought a black '67 LesPaul "fretlesswonder" custom
That suited
my new tastes very well indeed, and on the rest
Of the Demian
LP, that's the guitar Rod played. A fine axe it
Was, and
like all else, we moved farther away rom the Puppy
Feel, and
began to create Demian from the wishes of our
Dreams.
Ah, it was hard, hard to unlearn the Puppy method-
But
in LA , that just wouldn't work-- this wasn't a familyband
Town.
So, predictably, we brought our ladies to join us. Still,we
were used
to our free lifestyle in spite of what LA had done
to us.
The strictures imposed on us by simply living there
caused the
first rifts we'd ever known. Suddenly, four sep-
arate dwellings
materialized. Me, Betsy, and the crew- Roy
and Mickey-
Todd and Vicky, etc, etc. Instead of our former
communal
arrangement, each faction (and we'd become a
set of factions
by then), must have it's own separate space--
miles away
from each other.
Now, this
was an affect of the LA scene; by this time I think
We'd all
given up hope of any continuation of the old ways.
Our thoughts
were turned more and more inward as the LA
Blight sank
deeper into our souls.
The
Demian album was done, and for that time, was as close
As we'd
yet come to capturing our live performance on tape.
There was
a mood on us, like suicide almost…now or never--
Bring it
on!
Sadly,
the promo money wasn't there--like IA, our opening
Tour as
Demian was "send 'em to Texas, play the bars".
In truth,
we were happy to come home, our turf,y'know?
But we still
couldn't seem to lose the distance we'd wrought
Among ourselves
in LA, and very little was achieved.
In
six weeks time, ABC/Dunhill had cast us adrift promowise.
Our old
fans didn't understand our loss of heart, and Chaos
Ruled all….
Roy
and I managed to stay close, however-- our songwriting
Magic was,
and is, undimmed. We recorded demos for the 2nd
Demian LP
in Austin, and sent 'em west, hoping for a decent
Recording
budget.
In
the past months, our remaining Crewmembers had taken
All the
could stand, and walked away with their sanity un-
Dimmed (well,
no dimmer than it ever was! Rod loves you!)
After this
passing, things got truly out of hand.
Without
Gene to mediate, our petty grievances against each
Other began
to achieve epic proportions. Rod did this…Todd
Did that…Roy
did both, Fuzzy didn't--- as before, Chaos!
Now,
you must understand our level of frustration--- to give
Up a lucrative
lifestyle, musical freedom and success, loves
And hopes
still acknowledged without strife, our "group
Entity"
to mediate all disturbance. Gods! To have had that
And lost
it was truly unbearable to me, and I know the Dog-
Brothers
felt the same.
So,
we come to an afternoon in Hollywood, and in the best
Very best
Déjà vu style we find ourselves at the Tropicana
Hotel. In,
of course, the restaurant. (deadly cuisine, doncha
Miss it!)
In hand is the check for the proposed 2nd Demian LP
Budget.
I remember looking around the table for signs of
Life---in
truth, we'd been so battered psychologically that
There was
nothing left of the fierce Puppy spirit, the"against
All odds"heartset
that had held us up through the worst of
Times.
The moment reached climax, Todd tore up the budget
Check and
threw it to the floor----the last die was cast, and
The Puppy
was no more…..
Rod Prince---- 8/18/00
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