On July 6, 1972, Emerson, Lake & Palmer had released a new album called Trilogy. The first song on the album is called ”Endless Enigma (Part 1)”. It begins with the sound of a heartbeat similar to the one in Pink Floyd’s Darkside of the Moon, released in March of 1973. (much more about Pink Floyd later in this chapter)
When I first heard the album, I thought the song ”From the Beginning” was pretty, and it evoked memories of my past, and ”The Sheriff” was a rather fun song. But, my favorite was the last piece on the album, which is an instrumental called ”Abaddon’s Bolero.” It has the same military snare drum pattern as ”Ravel’s Bolero.” Even though it’s the same snare drum pattern throughout, it doesn’t get boring. The entire instrumental is a march, and I loved the military sound. The synthesizer, mellotron, and bass guitar all play the melody along with the drum pattern of triplets, then the music gradually builds up, and it’s quite impressive.
It was later that month, and I was bored with my job as a secretary. My boss from my first job opened his own Life Insurance Agency, and I was the only employee in a small office. And there wasn’t much work to do. I was anxious to have Carl listen to the tape that I had made of the Led Zeppelin show, but at the time, there were no Emerson Lake & Palmer concerts planned for my area.
I never realized that when I was recording that June 6th, Zeppelin show, that I was committing a bit of a crime. I’m surprised we didn’t have an encounter with their manager Peter Grant. I didn’t know about him then, but I read that he was heavy-handed when it came to fans recording. I never even thought to profit off of it; I only wanted to play John Bonham’s drum solo to Carl. They were the very top drummers in rock music at the time. According to the UK’s Melody Maker magazine readers poll, Carl was voted number one in 1972.
I found out that Emerson, Lake & Palmer, aka ELP, would be playing on August 9th in Edwardsville, Illinois, at the Mississippi River Festival. I thought about how I could go, but I knew I’d need to travel clear across the state of Michigan to get there.
As luck would have it, at the office, I overheard Mr. Roth, a colleague, and friend of my boss. He said he was going to Illinois on business. I asked if I could get a ride because I wanted to go to a concert in the area. He said that it would be fine and that he wouldn’t mind seeing the show also. I knew I would be safe with him because he was older than my dad.
I was looking for another adventure because I was getting tired of going out with my supposed boyfriend, Rocky. His friends didn’t like me because they wanted their party boy back to hang out with him. But, I was also starting to realize that Carl didn’t care for me either, even though it seemed like he did initially. I was lonely and bored with my life at the time, but the excitement of watching a live rock concert and my favorite drummer play, kept me going. After all, I was a fan.
It was finally August 9th, and I was on my way to Illinois to see the concert. When we arrived at the area of the festival, we checked into; I believe it was a Holiday Inn. After that, we went to have lunch at an on-site restaurant there.
I knew there was a chance that the band was staying there, and for some reason, I wanted to remain incognito for a while, so that I could see if Carl had another girl with him. A bit like spying, but I thought I’d be more like a surprise.
I was wearing a long light blue and white gingham dress with red strawberry appliqués on wide shoulder straps crisscrossed in back. I looked like a cute country girl with my very long straight brown hair. Not my usual British style clothing, but it was August and quite warm. The dress showed off my very dark tan that I had been working on all summer long. I loved that dress.
We walked into the restaurant, and I was wearing sunglasses. Near the back of the restaurant, I saw a long table with many people sitting at it. I knew right away that it had to be the band and entourage. Mr. Roth and I sat down at a table in the middle of the room, and I immediately put the menu up to my face to hide. It was funny. I thought I was invisible until I heard a familiar voice, and I put the menu down, and Carl was sitting across from me! I said, “How did you know it was me?” He smiled and said, ”I knew.” I was so shocked to see him sitting there. I introduced Carl to Mr. Roth, and they began talking about Carl’s watch. Mr. Roth was a jeweler and was interested in it. I think it was an expensive travel watch that displayed the time in several countries.
After we ate lunch, I went to the outdoor pool area. I took my compact cassette recorder and several cassettes, including the recording of the Led Zeppelin concert. Carl came over and sat down next to me. I told him that I was at the Led Zeppelin concert in June and recorded most of the show. I played the track of John Bonham’s drum solo to him, and of course, he was very impressed. I think I may have mentioned meeting the band.
I didn’t realize that there we no audience sounds in the recording, which made it evident that I was backstage. I thought it was apparent that I went there specifically to record it for Carl, which I did. To me, musicians were like brothers in one music family. If you love one, you can’t be taken very seriously by another.
While we were sitting there talking, Greg Lake came up to us and said “Hi” to me, and I said ”Hi” to him. He was wearing that famous brown velvet jacket with the bluebirds on it. I remember it because I was thinking, Why is wearing a jacket in August? Then Carl stood up, and they walked several feet away to have a private conversation. I remember thinking, What does Greg want again? Why is he bothering us? And why does he seem so nosey? Then Greg left, and Carl stood there with his back to me as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Then he sat back down next to me. After 48 years, it’s difficult to recall conversations.
Later that evening, Mr. Roth drove to the concert, and he had backstage passes for us. I don’t know where he got them. The concert was fantastic. After the show, I stood outside the dressing room because I didn’t want to go where I wasn’t invited. All I saw was Carl laughing with others with a big smile on his face, but when he saw me standing out there, looking at him, his smile quickly melted off his face. He must have forgotten about me as usual. The next day, Mr. Ross went to his business meetings, and I caught a flight back to Detroit.
(Readers, now listen to the ELP song “Still…You Turn Me On,” written by Greg Lake from the album Brain Salad Surgery, released in the U.K. In November 1973 by Manticore Records)
These lyrics in particular:
You see, it really doesn’t matter
When you’re buried in disguise
By the dark glass on your eyes
Though your flesh has crystallized
When I first heard the song, I thought to myself, well, I don’t turn Carl on, that’s for sure. It was strange like I was replying to what I was hearing. The “dark glass on your eyes” made me wonder, but at that time, I figured lyrics came from some magical place somewhere I’ve never been. I never thought about or even dreamt that I could somehow be part of a song.
(I’m trying to tell the story chronologically, without jumping ahead, but I always wondered what Greg meant by “crystallized” flesh. I thought maybe it was about my skin being so brown from tanning. But, while writing this, I thought it could mean crystallized sugar, like in brown sugar perhaps. Maybe Greg got the idea for the lyric from the Rolling Stones song “Brown Sugar” the number one Rolling Stones song at the time in 1972)
ELP toured the U.K. for the remainder of 1972 and then toured more of Europe during 1973. It wouldn’t be until December 1973 that I would see Carl again. What happened to me was very sad. More about that at the end of this chapter
During the year 1973, I saw Pink Floyd play on these dates:
March 5, at Detroit Cobo Hall.
March 11, Toronto Maple Leaf Gardens
June 23, at Detroit Olympia Stadium
June 24, Cuyahoga, Ohio at Blossom Music Center
I was also at the Grande Ballroom, Detroit, when Pink Floyd opened for The Who back in July of 1968. That seems like an unbelievable lineup, but it’s true.
I was glad that my girlfriends’ taste in music was still the same as mine, but who didn’t like Pink Floyd in the ’70s? I can remember that there weren’t many female fans who were into the progressive rock scene as much as we were.
My girlfriends talked with the guys at the soundboard at a couple of the shows. Peter Watts, Alan Parsons, Arthur Max, and others, but I can’t recall how I first met Chris Adamson, who also worked for Pink Floyd. He seemed to like me. I recently discovered that he had worked for ELP. I remember chatting briefly with an ELP stage crew member in 1971, but I can’t recall if it was him. He was asking if we had any marijuana joints, and I did. It sounds like something he’d ask for because I gave him weed when he was with Pink Floyd. I also found out that he worked on the Faces tour. He may have seen me around with all those bands and probably thought I was a groupie looking for sex with rock stars. I was sort of, but only with one rock star, my friend Carl Palmer. But it was 1973, and I was tired of waiting for him to want anything.
The first song on the Dark Side of the Moon album is “Speak to Me,” and the first voice you hear, after the sound of the heartbeat begins, is the voice of Chris Adamson. He’s the guy who says:
I’ve been mad for fucking years, absolutely years,
been over the edge for yonks,
been working with bands so long, I think crikey
It’s strange how the song ”Endless Enigma,” which is the first song on the Emerson Lake & Palmer album Trilogy, also begins with the sound of a heartbeat. And Chris worked for both bands.
A cool thing on tour was the black DSOTM t-shirts with the rainbow prism that the road crew wore, and only people associated with the band had them. I asked Chris for one, and he gave me a Green DSOTM t-shirt. I said something like,” yuck, what is this green, don’t you have any black ones left?” I guess they didn’t. I should have kept it, though.
I stuck all my backstage passes on my car dashboard; perhaps he saw the ELP passes. Backstage passes had a sticky backing to stick on your clothes. They were like nylon material on the other side; some were like paper. I wish I had kept them; I didn’t know I’d be writing about it almost 50 years later.
After one of the Pink Floyd concerts, Chris wanted a ride to the hotel. He was carrying a briefcase, and before he got into the car, he looked side to side as if to see if anyone was around, and he got in. He banged the briefcase against my dashboard, and I said, “Hey, watch it; this is a new car.” Then he put the briefcase on his lap and held onto it with a firm grasp with his hands and arms around it. He seemed a bit nervous. He didn’t say anything about what was inside, and I didn’t ask.
Years later, I thought about it when I heard that bands got paid in cash from the ticket sales. Back in the ’70s, trusting a promoter to pay the band with a check wasn’t safe. So maybe there was money in that briefcase, a lot of money! I wouldn’t doubt it; my car was unknown to anyone associated with the band, and Chris was the most muscular guy on tour, and no one would mess with him to try to steal it. My green Ford Maverick economy car was inconspicuous and was perfect for the job to get away. It’s funny and purely a coincidence, but this little adventure reminds me of the lyrics in the song “Money.” Did Chris grab that cash with both hands, in my new car to get away? He was, after all, on the Floyd football team.
I’m not sure at which concert in Detroit that a bad accident occurred. It was during the explosion sound at the end of the song On the Run, like the explosion you hear on the DSOTM album.
In a feature article by Mark Cunningham from “Sound on Stage” magazine from March 1997, titled, Welcome to the Machine,” “The Story of Pink Floyd’s Live Sound, Part 1”, page 62, Alan Parsons discusses it.
”Parsons casts his mind back to an American tour date in Detroit when many of the system’s components were wiped out by pyrotechnics:”
”By mistake, the flashpots at the front of the stage had been filled twice with explosives. The result was a double-strength explosion, which ended up injuring several people in the front row of the audience. Unfortunately for us, it also destroyed about 60% of the horns and bins, so we had to struggle on for the rest of the show with less than half our PA rig. Of course, we had a gig the next night, and finding replacement gear was a major headache”. Alan Parsons.
I was afraid it might have been my fault for passing out marijuana. After that show, Chris gave me a job removing the duct tape from the electric cables taped on the floor and then winding up the cables. So, I guess I was a temporary roadie on the Pink Floyd Darkside of the Moon tour. Pretty cool.
I was doing a pretty good job winding up a cable by wrapping it around my hand and then going around my arm, and I just kept winding it up and going on and on until I was at the stage. I figured that the band had already left because it was late and no one was around me. So I went up on the stage. That felt weird. Once again, I looked around. I followed the cable to a microphone on a stand, one of the backup singer’s mics, and I took the microphone off it. I knelt down to put the coiled cable with the microphone, and I heard a noise. I looked to my right, and then I saw David Gilmour kick his foot right through the bass drum head! I thought, oh geez, here I am alone on the stage with Gilmour, and he seems madder than hell. I was afraid he’d see me and ask what the hell I was doing on the stage. But this was my one chance to say something to him, but what do I say to an angry Rock God? I reached into my pocket.”Do you want a joint”? I asked him while holding up a joint. Gilmour replied, ”No,”!
I thought, damn, that’s not a good reply. I never stopped to think that maybe it was my marijuana that caused someone to use double explosives in the first place. That’s why Gilmour was so angry. People were injured in the front row, and the PA system got wrecked, and they had to find a replacement for the next night’s show.
I don’t remember anything else that night. All I knew is that I got a big ”NO” from one of my heroes. Gilmour was everyone’s hero then, and he still is. For me, it wasn’t just his incredible talent; it was because he seemed like such a regular guy too. He was a very handsome t-shirt and jeans sort of rock star. I always dreamt of being in the front row right in front of him to pretend he was singing to me. But it was still so difficult to get near the stage when the band was playing. It was mostly guys jammed in and packed against the stage. Getting in free didn’t mean I had a good seat upfront, that’s for sure, but it was very cool being able to hang out around the stage.
During the concerts, whenever Gilmour would sing ”Breathe (In the Air),” my girlfriend and I would sing it out loud. That song was and still is pure magic, and I imagined that my voice would fly high up to the stage, and Gilmour could hear me. (I won’t jump ahead to 1994 yet, but it’s unbelievable what happens then)
The music of Pink Floyd at those shows was incredible, of course. Music was the soundtrack of my journey, and it even guides me when I’m writing now. It’s difficult to describe a masterpiece like the Dark Side of the Moon album, ranked the number one classic rock album of all time. Every listener gets a different experience from it, and by itself, the music will get you high.
On March 11, 1973, my girlfriends and I went to Toronto to see Pink Floyd. It wasn’t that far a drive from Detroit. They played at the Toronto Maple Leaf Gardens, and we stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel. I believe Chris told me in advance where they would be staying. Strangely I can’t recall the concert itself, probably because of what happened after the concert. It was one of my most awesome rock memories.
After the concert, we went to our hotel room, which had a view of the street. I happened to look out the window and saw a limo pull up. I knew right away that it was the band arriving. I thought I’d get a closer look at them, so I took the elevator down to the lobby.
Once I got down there, I didn’t see any of the guys, so I went up to a counter that had things for sale, and I pretended that I wanted to buy something, but a lady came up and said they were closed. Then I turned around to leave, and about 15 feet away, all of the members of the band were standing shoulder to shoulder as if they were getting their photos taken. Wow! Was it ever an incredible sight.
I had to pass by them to get to the elevator. I knew I had to say something, but what do you say to Pink Floyd? When I reached where they were standing, they all looked at me and probably wondering what I was going to do and say while they were all together. I glanced at them and said, “You guys were really great tonight,” and then I almost ran to the elevator, got in, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, but I was still very stunned. Then the whole band got on the elevator. Immediately I thought, I’m alone on an elevator with Pink Floyd! I stood to the side and stared at the floor. Then Roger said, “Where’s the party?” Then, looking back at the floor, I shrugged my shoulders and mumbled, “I don’t know.” Then when the elevator stopped at my floor, the doors opened, and I got out, and so did the band. I thought, are they following me to my room? It was starting to get funny.
I think it was Roger’s idea to have some fun. I was a calm fan who cared about their privacy and didn’t bother them for pictures or autographs. I think they appreciated that. Plus, they probably saw me with my girlfriends backstage at some of the shows and thought we seemed harmless enough, plus I was friends with Chris Adamson.
When I got to our room, I opened the door, and the guys walked behind me. My girlfriends got a bit freaked out but remained calm. I wanted to say,” look who I found in the lobby.” Maybe I did. When they walked in and closed the door, I finally looked, but Gilmour wasn’t with them. He must have gotten off on another floor. It was Roger, Nick, and Rick in the room with my girlfriends and me.
One of my girlfriends was a huge Roger Waters fan, and like him, she enjoyed the comedy of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, the BBC television series. So she brought the book Monty Python’s Big Red Book with her on this trip. The book was sitting on the table, and Roger saw it and picked it up. He made himself comfortable on the bed, propping himself up with a pillow, and then he started to read to us, and we all gathered around. The book is comprised of reworked material from the first two series on BBC. Roger held us captive with his sense of humor while reading the funny stories. He started singing “The Lumberjack Song,” Then we all joined in singing on the chorus while we laughed.
Then Roger read the sketch called “Spam,” and we all sang the choir lines:
“Spam! Spam! Spam! Spam! Lovely Spam! Lovely Spam!”
Rick Wright was nearby, and he came up closer and started talking to me. He was so kind and soft-spoken. He was very sweet when complimenting a bracelet that I was wearing. It was a wide black plastic bracelet with many large fake diamonds. It was the style at the time. I told him that the diamonds weren’t real, and we laughed. I’ll never forget our chat. It was heartbreaking to read in 2008 that he had passed away.
After a while, the phone rang, and it was Chris calling for me, and I left the room to see him. I still wonder if he heard the band talking and laughing in the background. They left a while after I did. All the members of the band had girlfriends or wives, but the three members of the band were very kind to us, and it was a fun time. It’s always been a very fond memory for myself and my friends.
While I was in Chris’ room, Gilmour phoned. I knew it was him because Chris said his name and Ginger’s name, she was David’s girlfriend at the time. He wanted Chris to get something for her. I knew Chris was a very busy guy with organizing the equipment, but he had many other jobs also.
He wanted me to go to New York City and meet him there. But when my girlfriend and I arrived in NY at the Navarro Hotel, there was a note from him saying he had to leave. I’m not sure if the concert was canceled. All I recall is that we didn’t go to the show, but my girlfriend Marg and I had a great time looking in the exclusive shops. I did manage to buy a snakeskin belt.
I finally found out where Chris Adamson has been employed for many years. I saw a photo of him on the Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers’ Facebook page. He’s been their tour production manager for over two decades and four decades with Fleetwood Mac. It was great to read that he has been enjoying his career. He was a hard worker, and for his work on the road, he received the industry’s highest honor, the Parnelli Lifetime Achievement Award in 2019.
I remember the Pink Floyd concert at Blossom Music Center, an outdoor amphitheater in Ohio, situated on several hundred acres of land. My girlfriend and I walked into the far General Admission grassy area, and the band was playing “Echoes.”
I haven’t forgotten the peaceful moments where, for me, the music became one with the land, and the sounds seemed to be echoing off the surrounding hills. There were sounds of wind coming from the music and nature. I could feel a cool breeze on my face. Even the song lyrics about the sun and sky seemed to speak about the open air and land where “everything was green.” And now my memories of it are “The echo of a distant time.”
Emerson Lake & Palmer played in Detroit on December 4th and 5th in 1973.
The first night my girlfriend was driving, and for some reason, we were very late getting to the concert. She was the same friend who was with me at the ELP dinner and rushed us out after we met Led Zeppelin. We arrived at Cobo Hall, and she said, “Well, the band is probably already playing now.” I said, “Stop the car.” I got out and went over to the backstage door and knocked. She couldn’t believe what I was doing. A guy came to the door, and I told him, “Tell Carl Denise is here.” Then when I was talking to her, she freaked out and saw Carl opened the door and he looked out. After that, he shut the door. I was wondering what he was up to, probably wanted to make sure I was the right Denise. After a few minutes, the roadie let us in, and he pointed to where Carl was.
He was standing in the concert hall in front of the stage to the side. I ran to him. I could have knocked him down the way I smashed right into him and hugged him and said, “Oh God, I missed you.” I forgot about where I was, who he was, and I acted on my feelings. We were, after all, standing right in front of the audience, but it was mostly dark.
I saw that he was looking at the stage with a smile. Then I looked at the stage, and there it was, the brand new custom-built, stainless steel drum set and the lights at the bottom of it were turned on, and they made it all sparkle. I bounced up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. I read about the drum set, and we talked about the hunting scenes and animals engraved on the shells. It was difficult to hear and talk with the loud pre-show PA music going. This was the tour for their fourth studio album called Brain Salad Surgery.
The concert was great, but Carl’s drum solo was the best part of it. During the solo, the drum platform revolved while he was playing the gongs. The gongs ended up in front, and there was a colorful dragon on them. The head was on one gong and the body on the other. When he played the gongs, they swayed, and it looked as though the dragon was moving. Then while the platform revolved back again, he rang the over-head ships bell holding onto the string with his teeth while he continued playing the gongs. He looked like a Martian landing on stage in a spaceship.
I always remembered how in 1972, he liked the hand-painted dragon on my red leather handbag. It caught his eye. In an interview, he said he got the idea for the dragon from a vase that he saw.
When everyone was ready to leave after the show, I was standing by the door. Carl came up and took my hand, and we ran out the door into a limo.
It was a wild scene with fans all around taking photos. They were even photographing while we were in the back seat, and the cameras were flashing in the dark was blinding. I tried to hide so they couldn’t see me. I covered my face and shouted, “Hey, I’m no rockstar” Then, Carl said, “Neither am I,” and we both laughed. Then my girlfriend stuck her head in the limo and said she was leaving. I forgot that she drove, and I wouldn’t have a ride home that night. So I told Carl I had to go and I started to get up, and he put his hand on my arm to stop me from leaving. Then I knew he wanted me to spend the night with him.
I was shocked and somewhat afraid and said, ”Will you take care of me and not throw me out on the street?” He smiled and laughed again. I was thinking about the night when he wanted me to go home, and another time he wasn’t there when I woke up.
The first thing he said was, “who was that old man you were with.” I laughed and said, “that was my boss’s jeweler.” A year prior, Mr. Roth drove me to Illinois to see the band. He should have asked me that question the year before.
I told him that I drove to Montreal to see him, but when we got there, I looked in the newspaper to read that the show was canceled.
It was strange that Greg Lake sat in the front seat with the chauffeur. I thought is he listening in on our conversation and being nosey again? I believe each member had a limo because Keith rode in a different one.
When Carl and I arrived in his room, it was the first time we were alone together. I said, “You were really good tonight,” and he said, “thanks.” I still didn’t think he liked me much, but I was hopeful. He asked me, “Will you always follow me?” I thought he was making a joke because I was a pest for following him for three years. ”I’ll probably follow you forever,” I replied. Then he said, ”Promise?” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
He was going through his things, and he put a pair of drum sticks on the bed next to me. I took them and started tapping on the bed. He seemed to get angry, and he grabbed them out of my hand, and it hurt my fingers. I guess he wanted me to ask if I could have them, but I didn’t. I wanted a drum lesson instead.
We got undressed, and I kept my underwear on, and so did he. I was still trying to be modest, and I wanted to keep talking to him. It wasn’t every day that I had him all to myself. We got into bed, and I got on top of him in a straddle position, and I held his hand. I wasn’t ready for sex yet because the conversation could end after sex. It seemed like an innocent move to me.
Still holding his hand, I said,” I remember when I first saw you, and I was twirling around under the chandelier on the dance floor.” He smiled and said that it was a glitter ball. There was a glitter ball on the dance floor closer to the stage but not above us. I always thought there was a chandelier because of the lights that shined down on the floor. I told him how I loved to watch him play from the fire escape steps on the side of the stage at the Eastown and how cool it was watching him from above. Then I read his palm and told him that his lifeline was very long. Then we put our palms together as if I were Juliet saying, ”Palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”
When I put my head on his chest, my long hair came down all around us, and I said, “my heart is beating so fast,” and he said, “what does mine say”? So I listened to it, and I looked at him and said, “wow, that’s really fast.” I asked him if he still kissed like a brick, so he kissed me, and I said, “that’s better.”
He slowly pushed me off him and put me in a position and tried penetrating me anally without a lubricant. I knew that wasn’t going to work. So I reached underneath and put it in where it should go, but he only lasted several seconds. It was as though I was the first woman he ever had sex with.
After that, I didn’t say a word, and I fell asleep and slept right through the night.
In the morning, when I woke up, he was there, but the first thing he said to me was, “You’re weird.” I thought, what the hell was that for? I got up to go to the bathroom, and I told him to piss off.
I guess all was forgiven later because he asked what I wanted for breakfast, and I said tea and an English muffin. He brought out a photo of his new villa on the island of Tenerife, the largest of the Canary Islands of Spain. The home looked pretty, and there was a cute black dog in the photo, a Bouvier, I believe. But why was he showing me his new home? Was he trying to get my hopes up about something?
I wasn’t asked, but I could have spent the day with him because there was another concert that night. But I wanted to go home, change, and take a shower. When I was about to leave, he asked if I was coming back that night, and I said, “I guess so.” I just didn’t feel that he cared for me. I had to ask for a kiss, and he barely touched me all night. I phoned my girlfriend to pick me up, then I left. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Carl anymore.
The second night Saturday, December 5th, after the concert, I overheard one guy yell out, “We’re going to Carl’s for dinner, ” the name of the restaurant was Carl’s Chop House. It was one of Detroit’s premier restaurants, with a reputation for excellent food and service.
After the show, everyone was getting into limousines and cars. I couldn’t find Carl anywhere. I thought he was already in a limo, so my girlfriend and I got into one. When we arrived at the restaurant, I looked around, and he wasn’t there either.
We all sat down at a table, and after a while, Carl walked in and stood in the doorway looking around for us. It was funny. I think the other band members played a joke on him. He said something to them as he walked by, and they laughed.
There is a similar story that was told to ELP fans about Greg and Keith leaving a concert in Japan while Carl was still playing drums on stage. They left him there and went to the restaurant without him, and when he finally showed up, he said to them, “You bastards.” Maybe they meant to say that it happened in Detroit unless they did it to him twice.
During the dinner, there was plenty of wine going around, and Carl was filling my glass. He picked up two spoons and started tapping on the table.
Then I picked up two spoons and played the very end of the band’s song called “The Sheriff.” And I received a big round of applause from people at the table, and my girlfriend asked, “how did you do that”? I’m not sure how. I never played the spoons before. Then perhaps the applause was because they may have known what was about to happen to me.
When we arrived back at the hotel, I was still feeling the effects of all the wine I drank. We were in the hallway, and Carl walked passed me on his way to his room. I didn’t say anything, but after he went by me, he turned around and asked, “are you coming”? So I followed him, and we went into someone else’s room. He almost pushed me into the bathroom and then handed me a t-shirt and told me to “put this on, ” then he shut the door.
I stood there in the bathroom, looking at the Brain Salad Surgery tour t-shirt he handed me. It made me feel sick inside like I was nothing and that I meant nothing. At that time, I didn’t even know what the album title and artwork even meant.
(The album title and the cover art represents oral sex with a man. The illustration initially had the complete phallus, but when the artwork was presented to the record company, it was rejected as being pornographic. The group had a different artist airbrush it into a shaft of glowing light)
I didn’t want to put that t-shirt on; I was very confused and hurt. So I left the bathroom, threw the T-shirt on the floor, and sat down on the floor. My head was still spinning from the wine I had. Before I sat down, I saw a woman in the bed and another man in the room. I believe he was the president of Manticore records who gave the album its name. He and Carl were both wearing black bikini underwear. The woman in bed was wearing a Brain Salad Surgery t-shirt, and she was mostly under the sheets.
Carl knelt next down by me, and he took off my top and bra and put the t-shirt on me. Strangely, I still trusted him. He unzipped my pants, but I kept my underwear on, and I sat there. I didn’t know what was happening to me—what a creepy nightmare.
Then Carl got in bed and got on top of the fat groupie and was mimicking having sex. Then he told me to get in bed, and I wouldn’t. Then the woman and the other guy were telling me to get in bed. They wanted me to be on one side of Carl with the woman on the other side. They were all badgering me to get in. I went and sat on the edge of the bed, and then Carl grabbed my arm real quick, and the other guy had a camera in my face, ready to photograph the scene.
Immediately I pulled away and started crying loudly. Then I realized where I was and didn’t want those idiots to see me cry. I calmed myself down and got dressed fast. The fat groupie in bed said to me, “What did you think was gonna happen here?” I didn’t reply. And Carl never even said a word to me about any of it.
I left the room as fast as possible, and I called out to my girlfriend in Keith’s room. I hugged her and cried and told her what happened. Keith heard what I said, and he didn’t say anything. I just remember saying, “I’m never coming back.”
I couldn’t believe that Carl wouldn’t come out of that room or say anything to me. He offered nothing, he wouldn’t defend me, and he didn’t care. He cared about his friend, who was also his karate teacher, more than me.
Then I realized I left my new silver lamé scarf in that room. I didn’t want any part of me left in there. So I went back and knocked, and Carl’s friend opened the door, and I walked in and went over to get my scarf. Carl called out my name from the other bed. I didn’t look, but I said loudly, “Carl, you’re perverted” then I smiled, and I walked out the door. Not only was I taking my self-respect and my scarf, but I was taking Carl’s secrets with me that he didn’t want people to know. One of which is his small penis.
It seemed apparent that the previous night was only to gain my trust, so I’d fall for the fake sex photo op he planned. At the time, I didn’t know about the band’s Manticore film or that I was in the restaurant scene. It was shown in the U.K. on Dec 24th. It was evident that they wanted a photo of another woman and me both wearing Brain Salad Surgery t-shirts and in bed with Carl to add it to their film.
Going back for my scarf took courage. I was proud of myself for not falling for their plan to take photos, which would have shown me in a bad light and would have been slanderous. I wasn’t that type of person at all, but with all the wine I was given, I could have quickly fallen for it. I was so close to a disaster that it was frightening. Since the band was so famous, the photo could have been seen all over the world. My heart was broken badly. At the very least, I thought Carl was my friend. It was a very traumatic event. I kept the silver lamé scarf all these years; I’ll never have the heart to throw it away like Carl threw my heart away. But it’s really what happens years later that was much more cruel.
(In upcoming chapters, I will talk about the Publius Enigma and how some of my stories are involved and what clues were placed in The Division Bell lyrics and artwork. Also, the words Publius and Enigma were placed in the album artwork for the A Momentary Lapse of Reason mini disc reissue released in November 1994. The first song on the album is the instrumental “Signs of Life” with the following spoken words by Nick Mason:
When the child-like view of the world went, nothing replaced it…nothing replaced it…nothing replaced it…
I do not like being asked to…..I do not like being asked to… I do not like being asked to….
Other people replaced it
Someone who knows
In my last story here, I did not like being asked to get in bed over and over by three people. My child-like view of the world went, and other people replaced it, and someone knows. Did my friend Chris Adamson find out what happened to me? And did he tell his good friend David Gilmour?
Recently I saw a photo from the ’80s of Chris talking to Carl’s good friend Mark backstage at a concert. Earlier in my story, I wrote about when Carl introduced me to Mark and how later that night, Mark told me Carl was weird.
Many things in this chapter remind me of A Momentary Lapse of Reason lyrics and artwork—the upcoming chapters about the 1980s connect also. I remember thinking years ago that it didn’t matter how many different beds Carl switched to, I was never coming back.
The cover art for the album with all the beds and a man on the bed breaking a stick in half, like a broken drum stick perhaps, because of my “Promises Broken”? I’ll let the reader decide on this one. I thought about the connection in 1994, but wasn’t sure. Now I see even more similarities and it’s very unbelievable. I had a difficult time believing in The Division Bell in 1994, but there was no doubt I needed a ”Coming back to life” at that precise time.)