My girlfriend, sister, and I arrived in Detroit from London on Saturday, April 17th, which was depressing. There were no more castles, quaint shops, fog, or cobblestones, but I could finally have a great cup of coffee and food and return to Detroit’s rock clubs for more music. The English bands were playing in America more than in England.
Since I haven’t spoken to some girlfriends in ages, I’ll refer to them as A and B. About a week after being in London, my girlfriend A called and wanted to go to the Eastown Theatre rock club in Detroit. I didn’t want to go out because I was still tired from jet lag and travel fatigue. I hadn’t caught up with my regular sleep pattern yet and loved my sleep, but I was the one with the car and didn’t like saying no to friends.
I drove to A’s house, and she had a girlfriend, B. She was someone I’d never met before. B was wearing short satin hot pants, high heels, and nice legs that caught a lot of attention from guys when we stopped for gas, and she got out of the car.
The girls seemed excited about something, but I didn’t pay much attention. It was something about Keith Emerson from the Nice playing that night at the Eastown with a new band. I had heard of him, and I liked his music. So, I decided to do my best to get through the night.
I wore my new brown crepe pantsuit with the bow in the back that I bought from Biba’s, pink suede boots, and pink sweater top. I would always dress stylishly but conservatively.
A little later, we entered the Eastown. A and B vanished somewhere, so I roamed around the crowd, looking for some friends to talk to. Strangely, I don’t remember watching the band play. Many times, I didn’t watch bands play. They were background music to walking around and socializing with friends.
At the end of the night, after almost everyone had gone, I waited on the dance floor area. I was dancing around under the lights coming from the ceiling. Then, in the distance, I spotted the girls talking and laughing with two guys, and they were all walking towards the door.
Then I thought, Are those two guys from the band? Then I quickly thought, Aren’t there three guys in that group? So, where is the third guy? My tired brain couldn’t keep up with it all. I felt like I was waiting again for someone I didn’t know, as I did at the Marquee in London. I felt stupid standing there on the dance floor, so I started spinning around with my arms out and looking up at the lights in the ceiling. Then I heard a voice, and I stopped and saw a cute, long-haired guy coming towards me with a big smile that lit up the dark. I fell in love immediately but quickly turned around and started walking away. I felt a broken heart was inevitable and wanted no part of it.
Then this guy said to me, “Don’t you talk?” And I said, “Yes,” and he said, “Well, say something”. I froze up and quickly tried to think of something to say, but I was so stunned that all I could think of was, “Do do goo goo da da.” I kept walking. It was like I had talked, but it was more like baby talk. It was funny, though. I can’t recall the following question, but I remember saying, “That’s all I want to say.” I felt I didn’t make a good impression.
He asked me who was driving, and I said, “I am.” And then he yelled out “Shotgun”. So we caught up with everyone and got into my car. I had a very roomy blue 1964 Mercury Monterey. It had a power-operated breezeway rear window. And when we drove down the road, it felt like a convertible as the wind flowed through the interior.
At that time, I still didn’t know the name of the guy sitting in the front seat with me. My girlfriends and two guys in the backseat seemed to know each other well and were having a good time from all the laughing I could hear.
We arrived at the hotel, and everyone got onto the elevator. Hearing the British accents of these guys, I figured they were the members of Keith Emerson’s new band, but I still didn’t know the names of the other two. I asked the guy I was with to say the word book. He said, “Book,” and I said, “Oh, you don’t say bewk like the Beatles,” then he laughed. In the movie “A Hard Day’s Night’, Paul’s grandfather’s words to Ringo were, “Would you look at him sitting there with his hooter scraping away at that bewk.” The experience of walking down the street, driving in a car, and riding an elevator with a funny British rock band, laughing and acting silly, was like hanging out with the Beatles in the movie “A Hard Day’s Night.”
The elevator door opened, and one of the guys got off with the hot pants girlfriend B. Then I realized that girlfriend A was with Keith Emerson. It was weird that I didn’t know these guys, but my friends did. I didn’t want to be a real prude and leave and drive home by myself. That would be even more dangerous, and besides, all the British guys I had ever met seemed harmless. The four of us went into Keith’s room.
I felt a little uncomfortable being there, but I liked the guy I was with. He smiled a lot and had a happy, easygoing personality. I was getting some pleasant vibes from him and wondered if he was getting them from me, too. He had a noticeable childlike quality of wonder and excitement, and I could relate to that because I still had mine, too. He wasn’t interested in having sex, which was good because I wasn’t either.
Then, finally, I asked him, “So, what is your name?” He seemed shocked and said, “You don’t know who I am?” I said, “No. I don’t”. He still couldn’t believe I didn’t know who he was. Then he said, “I’m Carl Palmer”. I shouted, “You were at the Marquee Club in London the other night, and so was I!” He smiled.
It was destiny to meet this guy; It was bizarre and evident. We were in the same place in London, then meeting each other several days later in Detroit. The strangest part was that I looked for him at the Marquee because I heard a guy say, “Carl Palmer is here,” I liked his name and was curious about who he was.
I can’t recall everything he said because my mind was in a whirl just talking to him. He said he had been in the band The Crazy World of Arthur Brown. Then I said, “I saw them at the Grande Ballroom in Detroit.” (Years later, I found out that Drachen Theaker was the drummer on the hit song “Fire” and that Jeff Cutler was their drummer at the Grande when I saw them.)
So, the band that I hadn’t bothered to watch that night was Emerson, Lake & Palmer. I also asked Carl which instrument he played because I didn’t know he was the band’s drummer. That night, April 23, 1971, in Detroit, was the band’s second gig of their first American tour as a supergroup.
We talked, lying on the bed with our heads propped up with pillows against the headboard, and he asked if I would care to take off my boots. And we laughed about that, so I took off my boots and jacket, but that’s all.
I didn’t want to tell him I liked him, but I know I gave it away by also smiling with my eyes. He said that I had fox eyes, and he acted afraid. I didn’t know what he meant, but I said, “The better to see you with, my dear.” He said that my eyes were green, but I said they were blue. He was 21, and I was 19, but we were both like kids giggling under the covers and reciting nursery rhymes. He kissed me, and it was lovely. I knew I’d never forget his brown eyes.
I don’t know when, but I fell asleep. Then, when I woke up, and it was morning, Carl was gone. Maybe he just wanted to go back to his room. He wasn’t a stranger to me anymore.
The next night, I was back to the Eastown in Detroit, and this time, I decided to watch the band play. I sat on the fire escape steps on the side of the stage. That area was always a great spot—no one to get in your way. I knew I liked Carl, but I wanted to see how well he could play. He went way beyond my expectations. I fell in love with his drumming, too. The band was excellent, and I sat there stunned and in awe.
There was something about his drumming that was so much more intriguing than any other drummer I’d ever heard. He incorporated a military-style into progressive rock music. As a kid, I loved to march along to the sound of drums in parades.
The band’s instrumental piece, “Aquatarkus,” from their second album, Tarkus, caught my attention. The title track “Tarkus” has seven movements, and “Aquatarkus” is the final. (By 1977, ELP improved on that piece, playing it much faster and making it much more complex, and Carl plows right through it with precision and speed.) I would have to say that that album was my favorite. They played tracks from the album before it was released.
That night, I was inspired to take up the drums. I didn’t care about getting in a band. I just wanted to learn how to play drums a bit like Carl. Watching him play from above was incredible.
My first drum teacher was a jazz drummer. So I had a good start learning all the rolls, flams and paradiddle rudiments. I loved playing and bought my teachers Rogers drum kit.
After that concert, I can’t recall what was said or who I talked to. I had fallen in love again, this time with the drums, and I was in a fog, probably from the joint I was smoking on the fire escape. I know I went home after the concert, though. I couldn’t wait to buy some drumsticks.
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One Saturday night at a party at the home of a friend’s brother, I was sitting on the sofa and was thinking about Carl when I looked to my right and saw his face on an album cover. He looked so cute. Many other albums were on a shelf, but the back of this album was in front. I picked it up and looked it over. The album was a 1970 British import, and the title of the album was Atomic Roooster and cover art were of a display case with a big green bird with a woman’s breasts.
The name of the band was Atomic Rooster. One band member was Vincent Crane, also from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown band, who co-wrote their famous hit song “Fire.”
I hadn’t recalled Carl mentioning being in this band, but it was cool how I found the album by coincidence. I ordered it at a record store. The music on it is brilliant. Years later, I wasn’t surprised that Carl hesitated to leave them to form the Emerson Lake & Palmer band.
He and Vincent Crane left Arthur Brown to form Atomic Rooster. My favorite songs on the album are “Winter,” “Decline and Fall,” and “Friday the 13th”. For me, this album first showcased the distinctive drum style of Carl Palmer. I still listen to this album today. Vincent Crane (Vincent Cheesman), a gifted musician and songwriter, played Hammond organ and piano and wrote several of the album’s songs.
I believe the date was May 14, 1971, when I and three of my girlfriends went to the Public Hall in Cleveland, Ohio, to see an Emerson Lake & Palmer Concert. I was going to see Carl, but his drumming and the music were a bonus. The two girls that had been with Keith and Greg when we first met them didn’t go with us.
When my girlfriends and I arrived, the band hadn’t arrived yet, but the promoters welcomed us to wait in the dressing room, which was pretty cool. It was a bit chilly in the hall.
I wore a lovely brown suede short coat with snakeskin trim and had a matching purse. My snakeskin boots hadn’t arrived from England yet, so I needed boots to match. I found a beautiful pair of brown suede boots that laced in front up to the knee. They were a bit similar to the style that Emerson usually wore. And under my jacket was my crimson velvet shorts pantsuit.
The dressing room had several tables with bright lights over the mirrors. We made ourselves comfortable. I was tired from all the driving, so I put my feet up on the table and started to nap when, suddenly, the doors flew open, and all the band members walked in. I quickly took my feet off the dressing table, sat straight, and smiled to show I was innocent for being in there. They were happy to see us, though. Carl immediately approached me and asked if I still had the car I had driven him in before. I said, “No, I have a new car”. He had an interest in cars and driving, that’s for sure.
The band started to get undressed, so I left the room. I was walking around backstage, and there were rows of thick velvet theatre curtains. And I started mindlessly walking up and down them, wondering whether Carl liked me. Then, I couldn’t find my way out, and I tried to find the opening. When I finally did, Carl stood there as if looking for me.
Without saying anything, he walked straight up to me. We were standing face to face and eye to eye. He moved forward and kissed me. We were the same height. It was a pleasant moment, even though I had an eerie feeling about it. But, with that kiss, he convinced me he liked me.
We walked together and talked. I remember telling Carl he was a great drummer and that their “Knife Edge” song was my favorite. I asked him where he would be playing next. I can’t recall much more.
When the show started, I stood on the stage side to watch Emerson, Lake & Palmer play. Then, during Carl’s drum solo, Greg Lake came over, stood close to me, and put his arm around my shoulder. I didn’t want Carl to think I liked Greg. Some of the people in the audience could see us. I’m sure some other girl would have been thrilled by it. I felt uncomfortable and feared that if I made Greg angry, he would have thrown me out of the place. You never know how some rock stars might react. Maybe he did it to make Carl mad so he’d play faster. I think it worked.
After the show in the dressing room, when Carl and I looked at each other, he quickly looked down at the floor. So I figured that he wasn’t interested in me after all.
Then Greg wanted a ride to the hotel, and he followed me to my room, where I was staying with my girlfriends. He walked right in with me, started looking around the room, and even walked on the bed. One of my girlfriends who didn’t go to the concert stood there with rollers in her hair, wearing one-piece pajamas with the trap door in the back. When she saw Greg, she screamed and ran into the bathroom. She was so mad at me.
The whole time, I kept asking Greg what he wanted. Then, finally, at the elevator, he rolled his eyes and left. Maybe he was looking for the girl he had been with before. But she didn’t come with us on this trip. Or maybe Carl was trying to pawn me off onto Greg so he’d have an excuse to dump me. But I was loyal.
So, I followed my heart and what I figured was my path. It was a music journey, and I was supposed to find something.
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Publius Enigma Solved 