I have just (or rather my boyfriend did) move all of my vinyl albums from storage to where I am currently living with the intention of selling them. So many memories to each of them.
Anyway, I also found my gold disc of John Waite's EMI solo album, No Brakes, with the single, "Missing You". John personally presented me with this disc and I treasure it, and will not part with it.
I also remember very clearly that Jeff Aldrich head of A & R at Chrysalis bet me that "Missing You" would not go to number 1, which I said it would.
And it did!!
John has a great voice, is a good bloke and I am glad he's out there performing again.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Billy Idol and Steve Stevens
The sad death of Bill Aucoin, who as I have written, I loved dearly, brought me to thinking about Billy Idol, and of Steve Stevens.
Billy I first met in the UK, when he was still a member of Generation X, a fantastic band.
The group arrived and they were all so polite and delightful! Having only recently met another to be left unamed punk band, who had come in with their delightful producer and were just being rude (if you were punk, you were supposed to be rude!). I politely told them that there was no need for this and to stop, which they did.
Shortly after I went to the famous Wardour Street Marquee, and saw them perform. I was incredibly impressed that they had chosen a steel band to open for them. Great.
Billy's performance was electrifying and while I had got used to the exuberance of punk audiences, the one that night was just way, way great. I didn't quite get the idea behind the spitting from Billy, however, it was all part of his great showmanship. Fantastic show! I stayed far back.
Anyway, the second time I was to meet Billy was a while later after I had moved to Los Angeles. There was a Chrysalis party and Billy and I ended up on the patio chatting at first quite happily, before we got into a heated argument about who came up with punk bands first, the US or the UK and I definitely disagreed vehemently with his then opinion that there were no real punk writers/performers in the US. I named Gary Valentine as one of the foremost at that time. I suppose it's a British thing, but we don't really treat stars (except for Her Majesty and Royal Family, where protocol plays a large part in one's behaviour) with any difference. They're people too. I think that some of the Chrysalis US staff were rather aghast at my having a full on argument with one of the artiststs. Nevertheless, that argument sealed a great relationship between Billy (when I saw him, which wasn't that often) and me.
Now to Steve Stevens!
What an amazing guitarist and the albums that he and Billy created together are still among my most favourite music.
Eyes Without A Face is among my top 20 favourite songs. (And discussing this as potential release in an A & R meeting, someone pointed out that you couldn't dance to it [!!], Terry Ellis got up put his arms around me and to the chagrin [as usual] of Jack Craigo, we danced.)
My funniest and most favourite memory of meeting with Billy was going to the hotel where he and Bill were staying to discuss business, and Billy asking me if I would please try on the lingerie he had just bought for his girlfriend! Not quite part of my job as head of his publishing company, was my response with a laugh.
Steve, always dressed as a punk, yet was one of the most polite and affable men I have ever met.
Back in the UK one time and staying with Nick Lowe and Carlene Carter, we had a party and finding that Steve was in town I invited him to join us. As soon as he walked in the house dressed all in black plastic and earrings, etc, I saw the look on Nick's then current drummer, and before the latter had a chance (there was always a thing between pub rockers and punk bands), told him in no uncertain terms that Steve was one of my good friends and, please, do not be rude to him.
I am glad that Steve and Billy are back together and I hope one of these days to get to see them perform again.
Billy I first met in the UK, when he was still a member of Generation X, a fantastic band.
The group arrived and they were all so polite and delightful! Having only recently met another to be left unamed punk band, who had come in with their delightful producer and were just being rude (if you were punk, you were supposed to be rude!). I politely told them that there was no need for this and to stop, which they did.
Shortly after I went to the famous Wardour Street Marquee, and saw them perform. I was incredibly impressed that they had chosen a steel band to open for them. Great.
Billy's performance was electrifying and while I had got used to the exuberance of punk audiences, the one that night was just way, way great. I didn't quite get the idea behind the spitting from Billy, however, it was all part of his great showmanship. Fantastic show! I stayed far back.
Anyway, the second time I was to meet Billy was a while later after I had moved to Los Angeles. There was a Chrysalis party and Billy and I ended up on the patio chatting at first quite happily, before we got into a heated argument about who came up with punk bands first, the US or the UK and I definitely disagreed vehemently with his then opinion that there were no real punk writers/performers in the US. I named Gary Valentine as one of the foremost at that time. I suppose it's a British thing, but we don't really treat stars (except for Her Majesty and Royal Family, where protocol plays a large part in one's behaviour) with any difference. They're people too. I think that some of the Chrysalis US staff were rather aghast at my having a full on argument with one of the artiststs. Nevertheless, that argument sealed a great relationship between Billy (when I saw him, which wasn't that often) and me.
Now to Steve Stevens!
What an amazing guitarist and the albums that he and Billy created together are still among my most favourite music.
Eyes Without A Face is among my top 20 favourite songs. (And discussing this as potential release in an A & R meeting, someone pointed out that you couldn't dance to it [!!], Terry Ellis got up put his arms around me and to the chagrin [as usual] of Jack Craigo, we danced.)
My funniest and most favourite memory of meeting with Billy was going to the hotel where he and Bill were staying to discuss business, and Billy asking me if I would please try on the lingerie he had just bought for his girlfriend! Not quite part of my job as head of his publishing company, was my response with a laugh.
Steve, always dressed as a punk, yet was one of the most polite and affable men I have ever met.
Back in the UK one time and staying with Nick Lowe and Carlene Carter, we had a party and finding that Steve was in town I invited him to join us. As soon as he walked in the house dressed all in black plastic and earrings, etc, I saw the look on Nick's then current drummer, and before the latter had a chance (there was always a thing between pub rockers and punk bands), told him in no uncertain terms that Steve was one of my good friends and, please, do not be rude to him.
I am glad that Steve and Billy are back together and I hope one of these days to get to see them perform again.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
BILL AUCOIN
I have just learned via Facebook that a very dear friend, Bill Aucoin has just died from prostate cancer.
I loved Bill, and I use the word "love" sincerely.
And I am sorry that I did not even know he was ill.
I met Bill pretty soon after I moved to LA in 1978, and I could tell party stories, however, I shall not.
Bill loved life. I never saw him angry, always smiling and though he was not tall, he filled the room.
He let me stay with him at his wonderful apartment in New York next to St. Patricks (I could have stayed in a hotel courtesy of my Chrysalis job), however, it was a pleasure to spend time with him.
It was way up there and I remember one evening spell bound by the ballet dancing of papers caught by the varying breezes, and that's how I shall think of him.
Bill always treated me with respect both as a woman and as an astute business person. No boys club' treatment from him ever.
I believe he was a great manager. I didn't know him when he managed Kiss, however, he was with them for some time and I expect that they will each miss him too.
And he managed Billy Idol really well.
He sometimes got in his own way. However, I don't think I ever saw him not smiling, except for one afternoon, when after a hard day's night, he trusted me enough to take a nap in my LA office.
I joined him as his date one night when his mother and sister were in town and he was taking them to the theatre. A fun night and a privilege.
Bill, I am sorry we lost touch except via occasional FB contact.
love, ann
I loved Bill, and I use the word "love" sincerely.
And I am sorry that I did not even know he was ill.
I met Bill pretty soon after I moved to LA in 1978, and I could tell party stories, however, I shall not.
Bill loved life. I never saw him angry, always smiling and though he was not tall, he filled the room.
He let me stay with him at his wonderful apartment in New York next to St. Patricks (I could have stayed in a hotel courtesy of my Chrysalis job), however, it was a pleasure to spend time with him.
It was way up there and I remember one evening spell bound by the ballet dancing of papers caught by the varying breezes, and that's how I shall think of him.
Bill always treated me with respect both as a woman and as an astute business person. No boys club' treatment from him ever.
I believe he was a great manager. I didn't know him when he managed Kiss, however, he was with them for some time and I expect that they will each miss him too.
And he managed Billy Idol really well.
He sometimes got in his own way. However, I don't think I ever saw him not smiling, except for one afternoon, when after a hard day's night, he trusted me enough to take a nap in my LA office.
I joined him as his date one night when his mother and sister were in town and he was taking them to the theatre. A fun night and a privilege.
Bill, I am sorry we lost touch except via occasional FB contact.
love, ann
Monday, June 28, 2010
Going to visit the ocean
I have (I hope) enough gas (petrol in British parlance) to get me there and back.
There is something about the ocean, which has always soothed me. Which in some ways is odd, because I sink rather than swim and have nearly drowned three times.
It's the sound,and the scent and during the week, the lack of people.
The Pacfic ocean does not sound as huge and ominous as the incredibly strong North sea off the coast of Norfolk (which although it does sound ominous and you can't see anything, did not frighten me), where for a brief while I shared an over 200 year old cottage with a walled in garden with my ex husband. [This contained fox gloves and wonderful wild flowers and I could hear the sound of the sea from there, as well as smell it.]
Still working for Elton and as usually having had a crazy week, I often had to stop off on the Friday night 6 hour drive to the cottage. Once slept way into the early hours of the morning, quite safely. But when I got there, no matter what time or whether it was sheeting rain, my first desire, aside from parking my car was to walk down the very nearby slipway on to a vast beach in the darkness. And would wander along near, but not too close, to the sea. The sounds were so powerful, and you could palpably feel it. The huge waves crashing in and slowing to a gentler swoosh as they met the beach, just calmed my heart and made everything seem well with the world.
I loved that small cottage, which had withstood many gales without damage, while other new houses around it had. Although I could have done without going into the garden one time I arrived home, to one of the outhouses and being completely startled and horrified at the two pheasants hanging there! You can only hunt pheasants at certain times in the UK, but if they happened to run in front of your car, which they often did, you could keep them. Pheasant is okay (unless it has been shot, in which case, you might bite hard down on a piece of metal!) and is good for you, as is venison. No fatty substance to clog your arteries, as they run a lot.
Particularly remember the small (Munford) village pub; where I was generally one of only a few women; playing darts against the locals. And stunning them all into silence when to win the current game, I actually hit the bullseye to finish the game!
Now being a woman in the music biz boys' club, I did learn how to play darts as well as the small table poole/whatever, with mushrooms. Beat quite a few men at that too. Never got into streaking, however!
Anyway, instead of doing what I should be doing, which is listing more CDs on Amazon or Half.com, I shall take my camera and warm clothes and just walk and enjoy the ocean.
It's a measure of my limited budget that I rarely get to the coast, and one of my reasons for returning to Los Angeles, was to be near the ocean!
I am tired. Did not have a good night's sleep, having to sit to do so, because of damage to my left sinus after a fall into a bath tub! Run out of nasal spray, and I do have some percussion going on in my head, but that's ok.
I shall wrap up warmly and hope to come back refreshed and invigorated.
There is something about the ocean, which has always soothed me. Which in some ways is odd, because I sink rather than swim and have nearly drowned three times.
It's the sound,and the scent and during the week, the lack of people.
The Pacfic ocean does not sound as huge and ominous as the incredibly strong North sea off the coast of Norfolk (which although it does sound ominous and you can't see anything, did not frighten me), where for a brief while I shared an over 200 year old cottage with a walled in garden with my ex husband. [This contained fox gloves and wonderful wild flowers and I could hear the sound of the sea from there, as well as smell it.]
Still working for Elton and as usually having had a crazy week, I often had to stop off on the Friday night 6 hour drive to the cottage. Once slept way into the early hours of the morning, quite safely. But when I got there, no matter what time or whether it was sheeting rain, my first desire, aside from parking my car was to walk down the very nearby slipway on to a vast beach in the darkness. And would wander along near, but not too close, to the sea. The sounds were so powerful, and you could palpably feel it. The huge waves crashing in and slowing to a gentler swoosh as they met the beach, just calmed my heart and made everything seem well with the world.
I loved that small cottage, which had withstood many gales without damage, while other new houses around it had. Although I could have done without going into the garden one time I arrived home, to one of the outhouses and being completely startled and horrified at the two pheasants hanging there! You can only hunt pheasants at certain times in the UK, but if they happened to run in front of your car, which they often did, you could keep them. Pheasant is okay (unless it has been shot, in which case, you might bite hard down on a piece of metal!) and is good for you, as is venison. No fatty substance to clog your arteries, as they run a lot.
Particularly remember the small (Munford) village pub; where I was generally one of only a few women; playing darts against the locals. And stunning them all into silence when to win the current game, I actually hit the bullseye to finish the game!
Now being a woman in the music biz boys' club, I did learn how to play darts as well as the small table poole/whatever, with mushrooms. Beat quite a few men at that too. Never got into streaking, however!
Anyway, instead of doing what I should be doing, which is listing more CDs on Amazon or Half.com, I shall take my camera and warm clothes and just walk and enjoy the ocean.
It's a measure of my limited budget that I rarely get to the coast, and one of my reasons for returning to Los Angeles, was to be near the ocean!
I am tired. Did not have a good night's sleep, having to sit to do so, because of damage to my left sinus after a fall into a bath tub! Run out of nasal spray, and I do have some percussion going on in my head, but that's ok.
I shall wrap up warmly and hope to come back refreshed and invigorated.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
It's after 4 am on my 61st birthday
My mum died when I was young, and Dad could only remember that I was born in the early hours of the morning, or late in the night, whichever you prefer.
So 61 years ago, I was a few years old. Or as my Dad liked to say, I have entered my 62nd year.
My boyfriend has been at odds with me (he rebuilding a motorcylce carbutor - brave of him I thought since he has not done that kind of mechanical work for many years) and I have given up and returned to my own bed.
I think perhaps older women, like cats, like their quiet and solitude more than men.
I have been working on my first portraits from photos admitedly, however, ones I took. And I am thilled. My art can only get better, and that's exciting. I may not ever be commerically succesful, however, my passion has been ignited and I would rather draw and paint then anything else, except what's necessary.
I am going to bed now. Reading Red Cardinal - good book.
So 61 years ago, I was a few years old. Or as my Dad liked to say, I have entered my 62nd year.
My boyfriend has been at odds with me (he rebuilding a motorcylce carbutor - brave of him I thought since he has not done that kind of mechanical work for many years) and I have given up and returned to my own bed.
I think perhaps older women, like cats, like their quiet and solitude more than men.
I have been working on my first portraits from photos admitedly, however, ones I took. And I am thilled. My art can only get better, and that's exciting. I may not ever be commerically succesful, however, my passion has been ignited and I would rather draw and paint then anything else, except what's necessary.
I am going to bed now. Reading Red Cardinal - good book.
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