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02/06/2006: "FLASHBACK - HOLLYWOOD 1984"

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THE WELCOME TO LOS ANGELES


Or was it ’85 ? no, I think it had to be ’84. giant sandworms had their final split in ’83. I had finally figured out how record a record for almost no money ($400) and what to do with it. enigma records were going to license the first giant sand record: ‘valley of rain’. The French label new rose was about to release the first the band of… blacky ranchette record, which was supposed to be called ‘code of the road’ but instead just got self-titled somehow. So, I was going to move out of Tucson for a while; Hollywood. Swimming pools. Movie stars. I loaded up the van. It was a ’76 chevy. I had it decked out. I had divided the interior into 3 sections. The cab had some custom switches I had mounted on the dash. They turned stuff on and off. Like the Christmas lights on the ceiling serape in the mid section where the couch and moon roof was. It sound good back there too. in the back section was the elevated wooden frame that allowed the gear to be stowed under it and a bed to be set on top. It was separated from the middle section by an entry way I had built that was adorned with a ton of black and white post card photos of some favorite old black blues players and white country singers, plus a sofia loren, for good luck. A bridget bardot too, just to make sure.

So nack then, scot garber also wanted in on the move to los angels. He had been picked to play bass for the sandworms by bill and dave, the other guys left in the band after rainer split. This happened after our year of living dangerously in new york: avenue B and 3rd street at a time when taxis would not even venture there. 1981. after a year in new york, I had hired on with ned sutten to play in his country band on a string of summer gigs up in the black hills of south Dakota. Spearfish, Rapid city, Deadwood. From the badlands to the black hills. Even red river in Wyoming. It wasn’t until casper did things go terribly wrong.

Anyway, I was away when they asked scot to come play.
Now the two of us was all that was left of the old band and we headed out to continue on with this new band. Ok then.

I had been invited by the folks at enigma to come to the premier show of one of their newest bands; the screamin’ sirens. That’s where I first would see rosie flores play. She would later be the reason I ever wrote that song “cracklin’ water” cause I had invited (years later) over to the house to sing and play on something, but had nothing written yet for her. So while she was on her way to the house I hurried up and barely finished that one for her. That’s her singing and playing amazing guitar on the “hisser” version.

So, I pulled into LA, unpacked my stuff at my brother’s apartment (having learned a thing about city living from nyc) and headed over to club lingerie where the show was. After that long drive through the desert I was horribly thirsty. When I parked the van I had that gut feeling. I turned to scot, who had not lived in any big city yet and had still not unloaded his stuff out of the back of the van, that I had a vibe the van was going to get ripped off. He chuckled.

After we were done with the lingerie show, and suitably trashed, I climbed aboard the van and wondered why the little side window was gone. Oh yeah, oh no. we’d been hit.
Cleaned out. All of scot’s stuff was swiped. Drag.

We drove to cantor’s to sober up and commiserate. It hit be suddenly over my potato latkas: all 4 master tapes of my first 2 records were still in the van. I had forgot to unload them with all my other shit. I was frozen there for a bit. I had just altered my future by that little unforgivable forgetting. I went out then to see what my fears anticipated.

I had searched behind the couch where I left the reels, and they were gone. I was sunk. But then I noticed the cactus I had stuck on the side of the couch. (I had agreed to deliver the thing out here to friend from jon rosen in Tucson). That cactus saved 2 of the 4 reels. Whoever broke in must have gotten stuck hard in the dark there, and 2 of the reels had managed to hide behind it. but which ones ?…I knew I could still lose an entire record. But the fates said no. There was the reel of rough mixes of what would be the first blacky record, and the pre-mixed master reel of the first giant sand record. I was saved.

But now the only thing that disturbed me was the fact that the idiot who broke into the van had taken my address book.
That made no sense. But the contacts I had for enigma and the French label, among whatever other connections and friends I had then and there, were gone. That was a problem.

So I decided I would head back down to where the van was broken into and have a look around. Maybe I would find the book tossed in a trash can. An who would want the reels of tape ? Maybe we would even find some of scot’s clothes too.

When we got to where I parked I noticed the dark dangerous apartment style crack hotel there. We had mistakenly parked right in front of it the night before like we were handing the van over to any junky feeling lucky. I meandered around some of the trash bins on the street. Nothing. Then I saw a skinny old black dude coming out of the freaky hotel. Scot was all nervous at this point. He wanted to give up on finding his shit, but I was still thinking we needed to give it a good going over in daylight. So I approached the feller, and told scot to hush and let me do the talking. I locked eyes with him the whole time, trying to see his reaction and figure if he knew anything. I asked point blank that if he knew who ripped off our van last night and where my address book might be. “ address book ?” he asked… “yeah… wait right here.”

I was stunned. Felt an impossible glimpse of anticipation that all them numbers might actually return to me. Impossible as it may seem. Scot shook me out of my little space out there, “hey… did you see the shirt he was wearing …did you see the shirt ?” Well no. I had never looked away from his eyes. “it was my shirt !!!!!” scot shook me harder. Ok ok ok .

The dude came back out and it was then I noticed his black sleeveless t-shirt that had the subtle white lettering over his heart that read “GIANT SANDWORMS”. There was an address book in hand. It was like winning the lottery. There were all my numbers and only the fake leather binding was gone. Ha. He said when he came downstairs this morning there was a pile of stuff scattered at the bottom of the back stairs. Well ok then. “ is there anything more there ?” I asked. “sure.. come on” he said.

Now it gets tricky. We walk into this hotel/apartment building and it is very very dark. A man at the front desk is behind a thick smudged glass you can’t really see through. He looks at us like he knows we are going to die. Or get high. We follow the feller down the deep dark hall way. I am readily aware of attack. When we get to the end there he motions to a dark pile of scattered clothes there at the bottom of the steps like he said. I push around a bit for the tapes. No good. Scot does not want any of his clothes anymore. He does not even want the shirt off the guy’s back.

We head back out into the sweet sunlight. I am in a great mood. Not only did we make it out of their alive, but I might also have a chance at him finding the reels of tape. I offer him 50 dollars for the reels if he can find them. as appreciation for the address book I am handing him over ten bucks. That’s exactly when the squad car bleeds its piercing siren and I hear the shout: “ hands above your head, HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD NOW !!!. I turn to see two cops getting out of their car with loaded weapons, 9 mm semi-automatics I believe, aimed with both hands extended at our heads. They think we are making a drug deal. We are busted. Spread eagle on the side of the car. I think it was around then I was able to lose the joint in my pocket, which was also for good luck back then.

Anyhow. That was that. And that was how we all ever heard those first 2 records again. They never did run us in. Couldn’t find anything on us. And when I tried to tell them what we were really trying to do there, it just made me not believe it either.