(part 42) MONDO HOLLYWOOD, FRANK ZAPPA, AND PENTHOUSE RECORDS

Like I said, I liked writing songs and making records, so I kept at it for a long time. It was just what I did. If I wrote a song and liked it, it seemed only natural to record it so I could share it with people. Then I could say, "Hey listen to this." That was what it was all about for me, the music. The music business was just a way to accomplish that, not the other way around. When I looked at what I had done and realized I hadn't made a dime I would tell myself, "Just keep writing and recording Bobby. Sooner or later you'll get a hit and everything will work out fine." I really believed that so I just kept doing it.

It was early 1966 and a lot of things happened in that year. When "Vietnam" was recorded with The Leaves, Bob Cohen filmed it for a movie he was making called "Mondo Hollywood." I never thought much about it at the time, it was just something I did because somebody asked if I wanted to be in a movie and I said, "Yeah OK." It was just about that simple.

I signed a release form, not a contract, but a release form saying it was OK to show me in the movie and use my songs. "Wham Bam Thank You M'am" kind of stuff. You would have to get Bob Cohen to show you the piece of paper and I do mean a single slip of paper. It was not a contract. Cohen put out a soundtrack album on Tower Records and Sidewalk Records called "Mondo Hollywood" and I have never received a penny from it. The movie was on VHS tape, and is now a DVD, but I have never gotten a penny from either, nothing. So who knows what that little piece of paper says?

I moved out of Lois Johnston's house again and was going out with a girl I'd met at "The Trip" on Sunset Blvd. It was a new rock n roll club on the strip and she was a cocktail waitress there. Her name was Gail Sloatman. If you've ever watched "Mondo Hollywood," and depending on which version you watch, there is a scene at the beach where I am walking with a girl, that's Gail.

I drive away with that girl in a Corvette in the movie and that was Pam Burn's car. It was leased by Randy Wood for Pam because she worked for him. Pam used to let me drive it so I could look like a successful recording artist. That's how it got in the movie. Everything I showed up in or with was either loaned or borrowed. I owned my clothes and that was about it. The interesting part about Gail was she became Mrs. Frank Zappa, about a year later. But before I write about that there are a number of things that happened that are relevant to the whole story and its factual context.

I started living with Jeff and Stu Eisen up off Woodrow Wilson Dr. above Laurel Canyon. Stuie and Jeffie, as they were called, used to sell a lot of LSD, and for the most part it was still legal at the time. I moved into their house, along with a lot of other people, so I could be close to the source of the acid. The trouble was I was too close, so I spent a lot of time loaded on it. It was during that time when the use of downers increased as a way to compensate for getting fried on acid a lot.

It was in that house that I came in to direct contact with Arthur Lee and Johnny Echols from Love. I used to sit on the living room floor, there wasn't any furniture, and make up songs and play them. That is as close as Arthur Lee and I ever got musically. Me loaded on LSD singing songs in that house.

Another regular occurrence were the "love-ins." They happened mostly in Griffith Park. This was where I got to know Frank Zappa, because he'd show up just about anywhere and play. That's how Frank was in the beginning. Try to imagine a time before Frank Zappa was famous, that's what I'm talking about. Before "The Mothers Of Invention." Frank would go to the Whiskey A Go Go if he could play, or to a parking lot gig, it didn't seem to matter. He'd just show up and play and that's how he got known.

I would go to all the same places as Frank and we just got used to seeing each other and started talking. I liked Zappa and he liked me so we decided we ought to make a record together, in fact we made more than one. I have to jump around here because a lot of different things all happened at the same time. I will try to be as clear as I can.

After "Vietnam" Randy got involved with the distribution of a new label called Penthouse Records that was started by Ken Handler and Norm Ratner. Ken Handler was the son of the people who owned Mattel Toys, and Norm Ratner was the son of the people who owned Troy upholstery, a well known business in L.A. in the 60's. They were rich kids who wanted to be in the record business, so they were.

I was introduced to them by Randy Wood and Mira Records as an artist for their new label. I guess Randy thought it was a way to keep me close and have someone else pay for it, and who better than a couple of eager rich kids who Randy made a deal with to distribute whatever they released.

I made 2 records for Penthouse. The first was "Reconsider Baby" which I had written after hearing Percy Sledge's "When A Man Loves A Women." This is when I went to Zappa and asked him to work on the record with me. He agreed, because amongst other things Frank was a studio musician and arranger. He was a Union member and he did dates, so I got Penthouse to hire Frank to work on "Reconsider Baby."

Frank did everything. I played him the song and told him about the Percy Sledge record and he understood completely. He put together the band, got the girl backup singers, The Dixie Cups, (I could be wrong on the name) and wrote all the charts. He basically arranged and produced it but received no label credit at all from Penthouse, who printed on the label that the record was arranged and produced by Handler and Ratner, which is bunk. They did shit.

Frank and I made the record along with the players, most of whom became The Wrecking Crew. The record came and went nowhere like all the others, but to my surprise Penthouse didn't quit. Ken Handler said he figured he'd have to learn some things about the music business, and that he wasn't going to quit just because his first record wasn't a hit. He told me he intended to be successful and that he wanted me to make another record for Penthouse and I agreed.

(part 41) LSD, DOWNERS, AND VIETNAM... A NEW BEGINNING

Original seession for Vietnam by Bobby Jameson. Don Conka on drums and members of The Leaves on the track.

1965 was a big year for me. I took my first LSD trip and started using downers on a regular basis. My first acid trip was with Danny Hutton who had come into prominence with a single record "Roses And Rainbows." He then went on to Three Dog Night fame. Our trip started in Hollywood and ended after dawn on Venice Beach and then back to Hollywood. When it was over, I was different.

My use of downers gave me a sense of well being like nothing I'd ever known in my life. The tension I was used to was gone when I was loaded and I loved it. I felt as if I could do anything. I was addicted from the very first time I used them. When I mixed them with booze I would fight anyone anywhere. This became a trademark of mine over the next number of years and got me in a lot of trouble.

After being bounced off the wall by Randy Wood at Mira's offices, I vowed that no one would ever get physical with me again in the music business. I made that promise stick without exception. As far as LSD went, it altered all of my perceptions about everything, and I used way too much of it for way too long.

When Chris Lucey was finished I figured I was too, at least where Mira Records was concerned. But Pam Burns kept after to me to go back and cut a single for Mira. She told me that Randy was ashamed of what he'd done to me and wanted to make it right by letting me cut a record of my choice under my own name.

I was confronted with a number of issues in 1965 and received a letter from my mother containing my draft notice. The war in Vietnam was starting to escalate and I was going to have to go. "Jesus Christ man, just what I need!" I complained, after seeing the notice and finding out I was 1-A. That meant I was eligible for military induction and on my way to Vietnam, period.

This fact, as you may have guessed, was the very reason I wrote the song "Vietnam." Randy Wood was not too keen on this song but said, "If that's what you want to cut then go ahead." This was of course prompted by his promise to Pam Burns regarding my work on Chris Lucey.

I wrote "Metropolitan Man" as a b-side and used Don Conka on drums and some of the guys from "The Leaves" to record both songs. The Leaves were also on Mira and had recorded my song "Girl From The East" for their album. The Leaves had a hit with the song "Hey Joe" at the time and I was lucky to have their help on the record. It came out pretty well I thought.

There were 2 versions of "Vietnam." I wrote the song at the end of 65 and demo'd it with just me, guitar, and harmonica. The version with a band was cut in early 66. As promised, it was on Mira Records as a single, but was never promoted by the company. Randy was reluctant to back an anti-war song on his label so the record just died without ever getting a chance.

I once asked a group of L.A. DJ's at the Whiskey A Go Go during an afternoon radio promotion for something unrelated to me, why they never played my records in L.A.? Reb Foster accused me of using the anti-war demonstrations to further my own career. He was referring to the demonstrations that were starting to occur on the Sunset Strip with great regularity.

They all laughed when Reb said that and chimed in, "Yeah, you're too political." They laughed some more and ignored me as if I weren't there. That was pretty much the story with L.A. radio and me. I never got any airplay. There was a lot of resentment toward me because of the Tony Alamo days. The big ads and then nothing. People used to say, "Oh, you're the guy who had all that publicity and then blew it." I heard that a lot from music industry people in L.A. I was kind of the has been who never was to them and they never let me forget it.

Randy kept his promise alright, but managed to kill the record before it could get off the ground. I didn't know back then whether he did it on purpose, or just didn't get the point of "Vietnam" and refused to promote it. Hell there was a war going on and a lot of people were pissed off about it, so you'd think a song as relevant as "Vietnam" would have had a real shot if Mira would have gotten behind the record.

I don't recall any contracts regarding "Vietnam" and "Metropolitan Man," so I can't say much about it. Knowing Randy though, I'm sure there was some sort of agreement about it somewhere. Randy and I learned to have kind of a love hate relationship with each other that went on for quite awhile, but it was Pam Burns who kept any balance going between Randy and me. She was stuck in the middle of course, because she worked for Randy and loved me. Pam was always the one who kept things from going out of control around Mira.

As usual, I made no money for writing or recording "Vietnam/Metropolitan Man." Unfortunately I was getting used to that. It kind of seemed normal to me. I just liked writing songs and making records whether I got paid or not, so I kept doing it whenever I got the chance. It proved to be a bad way to do business.


Metropolitan Man b-side of Vietnam Mira Records 1966

(part 40) CHRIS LUCEY, THE LITTLE ALBUM THAT COULD.

Chris Lucey was an album I made out of the need for money. When it was finished, I had an album that had somebody else's name on it and somebody else's picture on the cover. Those of you who like the album, I'm afraid, have missed the point of it's creation.

I was Bobby Jameson, not Chris Lucey, not Brian Jones, who's picture is on the cover. Think about it! What the hell was I supposed to do with an album that led people away from me as an artist to someone named Chris Lucey who really didn't even exist except within the context of that album? I couldn't and didn't promote my own career with it, because, if you think about it, what was I gonna say, and believe me I tried.

"Hey here's my new album and look it's not my picture and it's not my name, but it's really me." Well that's exactly what I was confronted with. People just didn't get it when I showed them or told them about it. They would simply ask me why wasn't my name and picture on the record if it was mine? I finally gave up on using it at all.

It was 1965, and Chris Lucey did not exist as anything except a bailout for Randy Wood's Surrey Record deal. I'm sure this context does not fit into anyone's perception of Chris Lucey, but in fact, that's how it was at the time. Randy realized I was a better artist and writer than he had given me credit for, once he heard what I could do, but no one was running around heralding Chris Lucey, as an artistic achievement.

It took 30 years for people to figure out that Bobby Jameson was Chris Lucey. The telling of this story is difficult for me in that I run into a lack of perspective by everyone with regards to how the true facts were viewed at the time they took place. The view from what I have encountered in the last few years, is so far off the mark that I have found myself arguing with people, who don't know shit about the facts as they truly exist.

The so called music historians have written so much bullshit that people have accepted as fact, that I am slowed to a painful crawl as far as clearing up myth. The arrogance of these people who relate stories, as if they had been there, is a pitiful attempt at self glorification on their part, along with those who print and distribute this bullshit.

I'm available, but have found that nobody is particularly interested in my opinion, even though I am the only living person who was actually there. Some of you may wonder what is bothering me, because I at times become so frustrated that I threaten to just say the hell with it. Well, I am always ready to quit and say the hell with it, because it is the only protection I have. I do not have to do this if it's going to kill me. I already lived through it once. Dragging the bottom of my misery, so I can relate my past currently, is one of the most truly painful things I will ever do.

I am constantly remembering things that hurt so bad at the time, that I found them difficult to digest as they occurred. To relive them again, for the purpose of writing them here, is not a pleasant task at all, but something I choose, a day at a time, to continue to do or not to do. There isn't any guarantee, whatsoever, that the whole story will ever get told.

Chris Lucey was a throw away album when it was created. Like it or not, that is a fact. It has, in recent years, taken on a life of it's own and for that I am grateful, but it needs to be viewed in real context, to see how it has risen on it's own merit to a position it never held when it was created.

This, in fact, from a historical point of view, makes "Songs Of Protest And Anti Protest" better as a work and in no way diminishes its intrinsic value. To attach a lot of untrue rhetoric to Chris Lucey, is to belittle it as a work and as a part of musical history. Chris Lucey is what it is. The little album that could.

(part 39) ZONE X

It has taken days of thinking and extreme reluctance before I could even return to this story at all. My music site on myspace was destroyed by someone who thought attacking me was in some way a good thing to do. I put up a new site, bare bones, and have 6 new songs.

In my last post I received 1 comment where I was asked what I hoped to achieve. I thought about that for days. Nothing! That's my answer. That's why this is titled Zone X. I have never received anything from the music business but misery. The only people that ever helped me were the women of Southern California who put me in their beds and their hearts. So when I am asked that question, and I am in no way belittling it, I thought long and hard about an answer.

I am too afraid to ever think that anything good will come out of me telling this story. I am telling this story because it has never been told, and I grew tired of reading the lies and non-facts about me on the internet. I have nothing but my story and my music from which I have not gained financially. I came here to tell my story for me. That is the only reason I am even continuing at all.

If I relied on getting anything else but that to continue writing, I would have to stop now. To think, which I have, that I would benefit in any way from writing this, and then find out in the end that it was just like it's always been, and still is, I don't think I could stand it. I think that if my disappointment becomes any greater than it has been and continues to be, that I would just give up and disappear for ever.

I am not a person who gets help. I am a person who could surely use some, but at 63 years old in April, I have resigned myself to the completely concrete notion, that I have not been helped much and probably never will be. I can live with that. I cannot live with false hope.

Maybe you think I just need a better attitude or a more positive outlook. Hopefully you have not, and will not, have to live through my life or anything similar to it. If you have, or are, then you are a brother or sister of mine forever. My position is born out of bitter experience, not a negative outlook on life. The reason I am still around is because I have never given up on Bobby Jameson. Pretty much everybody else did, with the exception of my family.

On April Fool's Day I will have 32 years of sobriety. Free from drugs and alcohol, so that is who I am, a story from the past to now, and a sober individual who is writing it down. I am ZONE X. My life is ZONE X. I hate it, but it's the hand I have been dealt.

Many people have sat in judgement of me and many still do. One would think that after all this time I could just share my story and music without getting my head beat in, but that is not the case, as I have found in the last week. For what ever reason, and if you use your imagination I'm sure you can come up with a couple, I seem to bring out the worst in some people. I have always done this. I brought out the worst in Randy Wood, Andrew Oldham, and Tony Alamo, and I am still paying the price.

As I continue to relate my story, you will see that it gets progressively worse. No matter how hard I tried, I could not find one person who was worth trusting in the long run. I am in no way trying to imply that I did not share in the calamity that was my life, but I do believe, that if I could have found one fair person to work with, I possibly would not be here now telling you this story, the ZONE X story.

(part 38) DUCEY/LUCEY CONTRACTS?

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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)

(part 37) NO CONTRACT ON CHRIS LUCEY ALBUM

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Original Surrey album and logo

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.