Conversations With Rock Stars

Can I pick the next record?

December 3rd, 1971

I truly loved rock 'n' roll, but I had also dabbled a bit in the folk-rock scene. I went to see The Mamas & The Papas at a beach concert in Santa Monica. I pulled on a tiered, red, swing skirt and a white blouse. I picked up my friends Shirley and Rita on the way.

I absolutely loved the beach with the sunset, and it was warm and breezy. Most of the people who came were sitting on the beach, but a few were up dancing or waving sparklers. I sat and watched the band sing; they had the most beautiful harmonies and they sang some of the songs off of their newest album. I got up and walked to the water, leaving Rita and Shirley swaying to the music. Someone handed me a sparkler and I stood staring at the setting sun, letting the water wash over my feet. The lyrics came to me on the breeze:

"But now you've got to realize
There's just one broken heart, not two
It's only happening to you, it's true
Don't you know what he would do?
He's out having some fun
While you stay at home, having none
He doesn't even know, he doesn't even care
It doesn't even matter if you're even there."

•••

May 13th, 1972

I was scheduled to go to England in May, so I called Casey Ladner, per his last request from our first meeting, to let him know that I was coming again. He met me at the airport and drove me to his flat, where he lived with the other three members of his band and an artist.
"I know it's not much, but you're welcome to stay here if you'd like," he said, after he'd given me a tour.
"Probably only a week, because I'm scheduled to go up north for my assignment," I replied carefully. I didn't want this to get blown out of proportion. Luckily he didn't press. The lead singer walked into the tiny kitchen where we were.
"Well hello there," he said, coming to lean himself on the counter next to me.
"Hi," I said and looked at Casey, who smiled and shrugged.
"Max Gardner's the name," he said.
"Beverly Madden," I replied. He raised his eyebrows.
"Are you the chick Casey was talking to at Watered Down?" I nodded. He looked up and over, saying "ahh" as he went, with his gaze coming to rest on Casey.
"She's here on assignment. She writes for an American magazine, about rock music." Casey said.
"Groovy," Max said. "What's your assignment?"
"I'm going up north to observe a band record their next album."
"Uh-huh." When I hesitated he gestured with his hand to continue. "What band?"
"Led Zeppelin," I said. Casey, who'd been drinking a soda, spit it out in surprise and said,
"Far out! You actually get to be with them?" I nodded. Max looked just as surprised.
"They're rock gods. You must be good at what you do." He said. "Are you gonna stay here then?"
"Only for a bit," I said.
"You're welcome to sleep with me if you'd like," Max said grinning. I shook my head.
"No thanks," I said.
"Your loss." He grabbed a soda from the fridge and left the kitchen.
"I'll bunk with Max and you can have my room," Casey said.

Evening rolled around and the boys went to Watered Down because they were scheduled to play, but I stayed at the flat, not feeling up to go out after traveling most of the day. They came back around 11:00 and grabbed snacks and drinks before dispersing.
"Do you want to listen to some records?" Casey asked.
"Sure," I said and followed him to his room, which was slightly bigger than a closet.
"I managed to get last pick when we found this place," he said rolling his eyes. The bed was against the right side, there was a window straight in front of me overlooking the street below, and on the opposite side were shelves with records and knick-knacks. Casey gestured for me to go in, so I walked inside to stand by the window. He came in and crouched in front of the bottom shelf. I looked around at some of the pictures he had taped up. There were some with the band, him as a kid, and various rockstars and bands. I heard the crackle of the needle being set down on the record and Van Morrison's voice filled the air.

"Half a mile from the county fair
And the rain came pouring down."

We visited as the album played and he pulled out a box from under his bed filled with drawings.
"You're an amazing artist," I said studying the one I was holding.
"Thanks," he said. "Do you draw at all?"
"I watercolor occasionally." He grabbed a sketch pad from the shelf and started scratching away.
"Can I pick the next record?" I asked.
"Sure," he said absentmindedly, leaning against his pillow. I thumbed through the records.

"Here's one of your old rock 'n' roll favorites, friend
Shuffle on down to Broadway
1, 2
1, 2."

"I love this one," Casey said.
"You know J. J. Cale?" I asked. He nodded and sat up from where he'd slowly slid down the pillow. He added a few more lines and then turned the pad towards me so I could see what he'd been drawing. It was a rough sketch of me in front of the record player. I smiled.