THE TRIP

On the Sunset Strip

Fake IDs were easy to get when I was in high school because a California drivers license wasn’t difficult to counterfeit. Not that I was ever asked for mine. In fact, I was only asked for any proof of age when I was 26 and had a legitimate drivers license.

But having a fake ID helped me feel confident about going to places like The Lighthouse in Hermosa Beach when I was still in my mid-teens. Those early experiences also helped me navigate around the various venues in Hollywood and West Hollywood when I was older.

As a result, most of my celebrity interviews took place on ‘The Strip’. And most of those at The Trip, just up Sunset from the Playboy Club.

I’d done a few phone interviews as well. One with actor, musician David McCallum during his ‘Man From Uncle’ days. And one with actor Peter Falk during his “The Great Race’ and ‘The Trial of O’Brien’ TV runs. Both were good interviews but it was the face-to-face interviews that were the best.

The first interview I did at The Trip was with Barry McGuire while his ‘Eve of Destruction’ was flying high. I also interviewed The Trip’s house band ‘The Grass Roots’.

But of all the interviews I did at The Trip the one with The Byrds stood out the most.

That’s probably because of the way it came into being after a phone call from the Beatles former press officer, Derek Taylor.

He’d read a few of my interviews and liked the way I asked what he said were “intelligent questions and not about what bubblegum they chewed or their favorite ice cream.” He had a proposition for me and wanted us to meet at a place down Sunset called Pandora Box to discuss it.

Pandora’s Box was packed when we met. It was dark, loud and smokey. Derek was easy to spot propped up at the bar wearing tinted glasses and dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit holding a schooner of what looked like beer. Introductions done he offered me my first experience of Guinness Ale. “Doesn’t travel well but it’s still better than the local ‘weasel piss’.” He steered me to a quiet corner and casually took out his gold Dunhill cigarette case, clicked it open to a row of funny looking cigarettes and I took one. He explained they were Gauloises, French and “a bit stronger than your average fag.” All this before being “gay” stopped meaning merry and cheerful. (Years later I read where someone had described smoking a Gauloises like smoking camel shit. I thought it might be worse.) He lit my Gauloises with a flick of his gold Dunhill Lighter and I made a note not to whip out my Zippo and offer him a Pall Mall from my crumpled pack.

Unlike the habituates of The Trip, Pandora’s Box was filled with people who looked like they belonged in The Byrds or as backup for Sonny & Cher. Both Derek and I were the only ones dressed conservatively. Nevertheless I became aware that we’d been noticed and I realized that Derek was known in this place and being treated with a lot of respect and … awe. Yet despite his relatively formal attire, manicured fingernails, styled hair and association with music royalty there was nothing whatsoever affected about him. He was casual but confident, totally professional and put me, the new kid on the block, at ease.

Instead of cutting to the chase we simply talked. When I mentioned surfing he lit up and wanted to know more. His questions were perceptive and genuine. He really wanted to know everything about surfing and if it was too late for him to learn and enjoy it. We didn’t mention his time with the Beatles except for him saying that Brian Epstein was a “right pillock.”

When we got down to business it was brief. He was representing a group called The Byrds and wanted me to interview them for the KRLA BEAT magazine. It was to be an exclusive and not made available to any other publication. He warned me that some of the group members could be aggressively rude and uncooperative with interviewers and were generally considered to be very difficult to interview. “But I’ve set this up with them in advance so you shouldn’t have any trouble as long as you keep your questions relevant and focused on their music.” Instead of my usual 10 cents a word I’d be getting a flat $500 for the interview when it was published.

Although Derek had approved the list of questions I ran by him earlier I was nervous when the time came for the interview. I mentioned that sometimes answers would led to new questions and he repeated “Just keep your questions relevant and about music. Ask about their ‘message’.”

The KRLA BEAT wanted to assign one of their photographers but I insisted on my longtime friend, Darryl Kniss, because we’d worked together before and I knew he could get some great candid shots without being intrusive or interrupting the interview. Besides, this wasn’t the time to introduce a new component and Darryl’s calm presence would help ease my nervousness.

The interview took place backstage in The Trip’s small, stark dressing room. Some of the group seemed even more nervous than I was and I started to have doubts about this working out. Derek wasn’t there to do the introductions so I realized that it was going to be up to me. I introduced myself and Darryl but only Gene Clark and Jim McGuinn responded with their names. They looked over to Chris Hillman who seemed reluctant to introduce himself, followed by David Crosby who looked away from us when saying his name. Last to respond was Michael Clarke who’d been staring at his hands the entire time and appeared to be comatose. Stoned? I wondered to myself before he snapped out of his trance for a moment to sort of whisper, “Michael.”

I explained that Derek had asked me to conduct the interview for KRLA BEAT and that I’d heard their previous experiences made them uncomfortable around interviewers. I asked them to please let me know if any of my questions made them squirm or thought they were stupid or inappropriate. “We can stop the interview at any time … just let me know.”

That seemed to take the chill off the room, at least from Gene, Jim and Chris. David still seemed distant and Michael completely absent.

Gene was the most friendly, playful and talkative. Jim was the most profound, with refreshingly introspective and astute comments and answers.

Chris was intense, but brief.

David was surprisingly articulate and thoughtful. And And Michael seemed preoccupied elsewhere like a precocious child who’d been asked to leave the kids’ table join the adults. His answers were enigmatic.

Partway through the interview the door opened and in blew a flurry of energy named Donovan Leitch, wearing bright, cheerful clothes topped with a jaunty cap. He seemed a bit breathless and leaned on a small table to catch his breath before looking up and seeing us strangers. He looked around quickly, told Gene and Jim (who’d been sitting together at one end of the room) that he’d just popped in from his gig up The Strip to say hello, could see they were busy, would catch up with them and just as quickly left.

Gene told us that it was their friend Donovan from Scotland and that he was performing just up the road and that his music was great. Darryl had been snapping photos during all of this but was changing film when Donovan rushed in and out so missed that opportunity.

Later, I’d wished we’d had more time because the interview was just starting to percolate when they were informed by a voice at the door that their next set was coming up. Even Michael was showing signs of interest and I hadn’t had a chance to ask him any questions in his more awakened state.

While it didn’t surprise me that Michael Clarke’s life was cut short at 47, Gene Clark’s death at 46 did. And it saddened me. The effects of Michael’s excesses were obvious even back in the mid-60s. I didn’t learn of Gene’s substance abuses until after his death was announced. I’ll always remember his openness and his smile during that interview nearly 60 years ago.

The Trip © Robert R. Feigel 2022 – All Rights Reserved