Conversations With Rock Stars

Starry Nights

Saturday, October 13th - Monday, October 15th, 1973

I drove down to Santa Barbara alone, except for a small dead frog I found halfway there underneath the passenger seat in my car. It was a very short drive from my family home in Ventura to Santa Barbara, which I had stopped by briefly after my long saga in England. I arrived at the University of California where the Faces were going to play later this evening. I hung out backstage while the band arrived and warmed up during the opening acts. Laneole had left four months earlier, fed up with the bad reviews of their fourth album and Rod's lack of commitment to the band. He had been replaced by a Japanese bass player, named Tetsu Yamauchi. When they arrived I found he spoke barely a word of English, but I did discover that he held his drink extremely well. I sat next to Woody, who had his arm draped around me. Rod wore a white tank top, low rising white silk pants, a striped scarf, and bracelets coiled around his upper arms. Woody had on a multicolored shirt tied up high on his torso and multicolored pants to match. It was warm out and the concert was held outside. 

"Bevie, rumors have spread like wildfire that you're a lot closer with Zep than you are with us," Woody accused me, leaning his head down on my shoulder. 

"I haven't heard that one," I said, batting my eyelashes.

"So is it true or not?" He asked, flirtatiously playing with the edge of my dress, but I had to flick his hand away from wandering too high. 

"I suppose it probably is true," I replied. *Mock gasping,* to which I rolled my eyes at. He pulled his arm away and played a moody melody.

Two days later Rory Gallagher joined them and I was able to witness his glorious guitar playing in action.

"Like a cat that's playing with a ball of twine
That you call my heart
Oh, but, baby, is it so hard
To tell the two apart?
And so slowly you unwind me
Till I fall apart."

•••

November - December 1973

I returned to San Fransisco after the concert and fell back into the routine of work. There had been more pressure and tension at the firm lately because Rockstar Reads was being absorbed into the larger company, Rolling Stone Magazine. The young man in charge of this magazine was strict and had a quick temper, which lead to many people being laid off. I found that I was very jumpy and stressed when I was at work and had to bring my research and notes to the table.

I was sitting at my desk, editing my draft article for the upcoming issue. Sharon clicked away at her typewriter on my left. To the right, I noticed the young man, Mr. Lee who was now in charge, talking to Rob. Mr. Lee lifted his arm and pointed towards the door. I watched as Rob gathered his things and quickly walked past me, his head facing the ground. Mr. Lee saw me watching and I hurriedly went back to work. But his footsteps approached my desk and my heart began to race with fear. I glanced up and tried to smile.

"Beverly, is it?" He asked. I nodded.

"Fred Lee," he said, extending his hand for me to shake. "I hear you have a real knack for being in the right place at the right time, is that true?" He questioned.

"I believe so, sir," I replied. Sharon piped up from next door.

"She's always able to get the scoops. Best journalist to send for those British bands," she said, giving me a wink. I squirmed uncomfortably.

"Excellent information to have," he said. His eyes bore down on me and then he turned sharply on his thin legs and strode around the office, occasionally stopping to question someone.

"I didn't mean that as a bad thing," Sharon said quietly.

"No, it's ok." I said. "I just hope it doesn't come back to bite me. You know how the bands hate to have the truth stretched." She nodded.