A written history of Bobby Jameson and his search through the past.
Working my way back through the jungle of drug addiction and booze. My family life as a kid was the breeding ground for addicts. No self worth, no help, and one chance to get out alive. Music was the horse I rode out on...and the music business was the horse I rode into hell. Pronounced dead twice from drug over doses, I lived to tell how the pursuit of fame is as deadly as any narcotic I have ever used.
click The Leaves album with my song GIRL FROM THE EAST
Because there was no contract for Chris Lucey, Mira/Surrey was left in much the same situation they'd been in with Chris Ducey's contract problems. The difference was that I, unlike Ducey, had no legal or any other representation at the time.
Randy Wood was not about to hold up the album's release and stop Surrey's move into Europe again. He and his partner, Betty Chiapetta, along with Abe Somer, decided to go ahead with the scheduled release, based on their assumption that no one would question me or Mira/Surrey about contracts back then. That of course proved to be accurate at the time and true as well for ensuing decades.
Had Mira/Surrey offered me a contract with even the slightest of benefits given to me I probably would have signed it, but in Randy Wood's mind I was due nothing. I was simply expected to roll over when asked. But I'd already played that part with Tony Alamo, Andrew Oldham, and Brit. I was unwilling to go along with Wood's and Somer's demands after completing Chris Lucey. In my mind I had saved their ass and believed they owed me much more consideration than they were offering.
Mira/Surrey was focused on their deal in Europe not on whether Bobby Jameson was treated fairly. With or without a contract they moved ahead, dismissing any problems with me as details that could be sorted out later. It was not as if anyone expected the Chris Lucey album on it's own to be a hit. It was just one of the cogs in a larger wheel.
Randy Wood was such an ego maniac that he in essence dismissed me and my rights as irrelevant to his forward motion. The fact there were never any legal agreements between me and Mira/Surrey for the Chris Lucey project was literally buried in a box that had "Who Cares!" stamped on it. Business was business in Randy's mind and no little piss-ant like Bobby Jameson was going to get in his way.
The history of Randy Wood had already been written by the time I worked for him. Long before there was any Mira/Surrey, Wood's reputation as President of Vee Jay Records had been well established along with his partner Betty Chiapetta. The addition of Abe Somer was just another black mark against the likes of Mira/Surrey's reputation of questionable ethics and business practices.
In the picture above you can see my song Girl From The East, from the Chris Lucey album, on the Mira release of The Leaves record which followed Chris Lucey. It says that Girl From The East was published by Mirwood Music another of the many companies belonging to Randy Wood and Betty Chiapetta. The songs from Chris Lucey have been moved and moved again for decades, creating an endless trail of "hide the pea."
I have never been paid a penny for Girl From The East no matter which version or record we are speaking of. Nothing! Ever!
(single releases) Hey Joe / Girl from the East: Mira 222 (1966)
Too Many People / Girl from the East: Mira 227 (1966)
The Chris Lucey album is what it is. The people who worked on it worked hard as I recall. Everybody got wrapped up in this odd little record and gave it their all. It was a strange time in 1965, and Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest seemed to capture that in some a way.
As I said before, music and the music business were in a state of massive change and not everyone was sure about what that meant. Even Marshall Leib 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 at downplaying his enthusiasm.
Pam Burns was hailed as a genius by Randy Wood 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 under pressure, and Marshall Lieb and Randy seemed to have squared their differences, what ever they had been, with the completion of the Chris Lucey album.
I never saw Marshall much after that, and have 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 Randy approved of it, he'd let me make a record of anything I wanted and release it on Mira Records as a single under my own name.
Randy said, "Damn! You ought to be this guy's manager." "Just making sure you remembered what you promised," said Pam. She was always looking out for me. From the moment I met her she was always 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. A couple of overdubs, like the harmonica part I played on "That's The Way The World Has Got To Be," the final mix, 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 sort of a way, even though Chris Lucey didn't really exist. He was a figment of the the printing press and imagination of some weird destiny. No one, with the exception of those at Mira Records and the musicians, knew who Chris Lucey was or cared. The public certainly didn't know I was him nor did anyone else 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" in 1965. Although both albums are identical, they were seen as separate from each other until many years later. The album was also released on Crestview Records in the 70's, another Randy Wood label, and in a box set of Vee Jay masters as well.
It wasn't until 2003 that I even knew anyone cared about the album or knew that Bobby Jameson and Chris Lucey are the same person. I spent over 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 got me alone in Randy's office one evening. They said they wanted to talk to me about my plans for the future or something to that effect. After going in to his office 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.
I eye-balled Abe Somer who was 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 if I signed. 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 artist's contract." "It might be Randy," I said, "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."
"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 the whole meeting seemed to go 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, remembering what I'd learned from Randy about Abe Somer contracts.
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 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 that remains the case. No one owns the rights to those songs except me. 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 and performance on the Chris Lucey album.
Along with Randy Wood and Abe Somer there were others who shared the offices that made up Mira/Surrey Records. Phil Turetsky, one of the better people I met in the music business, also had an office in that suite. Phil had, among 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 doing very well with both with live performances at the Whiskey A Go Go, and hit records like "Memphis."
I got to know Phil pretty well. I would watch him sitting behind a desk reclining in a chair like he was on vacation. He seemed to know 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 pretty close over time, as you will see later.
I continued writing the songs for Chris Lucey and 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 to me about what his plans were for the album he refused to tell me anything and would not allow any input from me.
I complained bitterly about this and threatened not to cut the damn record 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 about who was gonna play on it. Marshall 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, and to this day I can't tell you who played on that record. I don't know if it was a union date or if it was done under the table.
We recorded it at American Studios 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 non-union and recorded at a relatively cheaper studio on purpose. He just wanted a record any way he could get it. In the end I was not paid any more for playing on the album or singing all the songs. All I received was the original $200 or $250 for everything I did on that record.
As we began laying down the first basic tracks, I was pleasantly surprised to hear how Marshall had charted them out. They began taking on a distinct personality from the beginning, and I was able to interact with the musicians more and more. Randy Wood was pleased with what was happening. I think he was surprised that the whole project was ending up a lot better than what he'd originally anticipated. Marshall's choice of instruments was odd to me at first, but created a unique texture for the songs. We thought up creative ways to use them 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 a way, was that it couldn't decide whether it was blues, jazz, pop, or folk rock, so what you get is a combination of all those elements mashed together. The song "Saline" has a guitar part that was played, by the engineer, directly into 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, which 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 song 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 record was "wingin' it." It's also part of the magic, if there is any, to the process. Everybody was inventing it as we made it, and that's what gives it it's particular feel.
Various changes in music were occurring everyday in the industry, and Chris Lucey was being created as these changes 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 back then. Anyway, in the midst of all this upheaval 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 and it's music and words.
I would like to say to the reader that if you sent a comment to me it is appreciated in a way that you may not understand. I am gratified by any comments, good or bad, because they indicate an interest in this subject which gives me strength on bad days to keep going. I am determined to see this through, but the comments really help. Thanks to each and every one of you. If you want to send a crappy comment, I accept those too. Bobby Jameson aka Chris Lucey 2008
As I began showing up at Mira/Surrey Records daily, I began to get a feel for the way things worked there. Randy Wood, who was a pretty good drinker, would spout off about business at the end of the day when he'd had a couple of cocktails in his office.
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 an Abe Somer contract and figured out you shouldn't have signed it, it was too late because you already had. I took this seriously when I heard it and never forgot those words.
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 quickly concluded that I did not trust him at all. He acquired a reputation for helping change the music business from a lot of small independent labels into a larger corporate structure, which bought out the independents thus creating a larger structure, whose sole goal was to own and control more and more publishing and master rights. Abe Somer was one of those who did as much damage to the L A music scene in the 60's as any human being I know of. I was there when this was occurring. I warned people about it, 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 was in the office, so Randy could listen to them the next day. They were pretty rough, but it was a good way for Marshall Lieb to hear what he would be producing, and get charts written 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, reluctantly, 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) Hinds 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) (Too Many Mornings) and he and Bruce Hinds came up with "I got The Blues." These two songs are stand outs on the record. I helped a bit on both songs, but Bill and Bruce, for the most part, wrote the them.
Bruce Hinds, if you don't recall, was a sidekick of Danny Whitten, Billy Talbot, and Ralph Molina's, 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 it. 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.
Randy Wood and Marshall Lieb screwed around for another week or two, 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, and 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 and such, where you could pick up unknown records and artists for cut rate prices when you bought groceries and things. It was bottom of the barrel merchandising. The reason Randy Wood was so hung up on getting Chris Lucey 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 for his Surrey Records line and he didn't want it screwed up because of one lousy album. It was a European release date with a deadline, and the whole deal revolved around the European's fascination with the album jacket of the Chris Ducey/Chris Lucey record. It was the album's visual appearance that they wanted for display, the music was secondary. So any 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 in connection with my relationship with 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 new songs and recording them all. I would make either $20 or $25 a song. That was for writing and recording them. It was either $200 or $250, but 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 dollars for doing the job and Randy would get off the hook. This was not an artist/writer deal whatsoever.
Randy was still leery of me because he'd never heard anything I'd done. He was going on Pam Burn's word completely and trusted her judgement. It was arranged so that each evening after the offices closed Pam and I would go upstairs 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, but others are a bit vague. The title and content of the lyrics I wrote sometimes seem disconnected, and that's why the album is the way it is. Not only did I have to use Ducey's titles, but I had to get it 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 Pam," I replied, "I really hope so."
Randy was knocked out by my songs alright, 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 being 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 doubts that I could do it. If I had had more time Chris Lucey would be a better album. What I did though was as good as I could do under the circumstances. As far as the money went I was broke. "I did it for the money!" It was not a career move. It was just a job I got. Who knew where it would end up decades later?
There are other inaccurate stories about the making of Chris Lucey that I want to clear up as well, 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 Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest. The band "Love" was known as "The Grass Roots" in 65, but had to give up that name because it belonged to another group. They changed it to "Love." Their first record was in 1966. I met Arthur Lee after I wrote and recorded Chris Lucey in 1965. 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 readers to decide for themselves what it is they believe. I am just telling my story.
Original Chris Ducey album jacket 1965 Surrey Records
Chris Lucey album jacket 1965 Surrey Records
A couple of key things occurred before I ever stepped foot into Mira/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 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 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 jackets. 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 artwork on the jackets, figured out that he could run the already printed covers back through the presses and cancel out part of the letter D from Ducey's name and make it into an L. This is how Chris Lucey was created. Now all Randy Wood needed was someone to write 10 new songs to the existing titles, and record them all, as a brand new album. 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 it. 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, 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 deal 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 said 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 you're 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."
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