1966 The Jimi Hendrix Experience

The Jimi Hendrix Experience made their live debut in the middle of October 1966 with four dates in France.

Upon his arrival in England, the guitarist’s manager, former Animals bassist Chas Chandler, introduced Hendrix to drummer Mitch Mitchell and bassist Noel Redding, the duo that would become the Experience. After a week of rehearsals, Chandler put the band on the road supporting the French singer Johnny Hallyday.

The opening date was at the Novelty in Evreux, France on Oct. 13, 1966, and the trek wound up five days later at the Olympia Theater in Paris. Also on the bill were Long Chris, the Blackbirds and, for the final date, the Brian Auger Trinity. Less than a week later, the Experience would make their debut in the U.K. 

Jimi Hendrix and Johnny Hallyday

The concert I saw in Paris on October 18, 1966, when The Jimi Hendrix Experience opened for Johnny Halliday, was their first performance ever recorded!  The band had only been together for about two weeks.

My friend, Roland, was a photographer for one of the Paris newspapers, and he invited me to go with him on his interview with this crazy new artists who played the guitar with his teeth and set it on fire.  Of course, I was thrilled.

We went to the Olympia and went backstage.  Roland and I went to a dressing room where a black man was sitting on a stool playing a guitar.  He looked up and said hello very quietly, then shook Roland's hand and shook mine.  I told him I spoke English if needed it, but Roland spoke pretty good English.  When he asked Jimi questions, I could barely hear his answers, and the whole time he was just strumming his guitar.  After a couple of minutes, someone told him he needed to get on stage, so Roland said they could finish after the show.

The curtain went up and there was a drummer and a bass player on stage, but no one at the mike.  Then the speaker announced "Ladies & gentleman"  and there was a terrific guitar noise, "from Seattle Washington" and there was another roar from the guitar that lasted a while, "the Jimi Hendrix Experience!" then Jimi came out, with his left hand in the air, playing the chords with his right hand.  It was incredible.  

We watched Jimi perform from the side of the stage.  The audience was spellbound and I was in shock.  The guitar alone was like nothing I had ever heard!  He played it with his teeth, yes, and he set it on fire.  

His set only lasted 15 minutes (though it seemed much longer) and he sang three songs ("Killing Floor", "Hey Joe", and "Wild Thing").  When he was through, there was dead silence for a moment then the entire audience went berserk!  Needless to say, we weren't able to go backstage again.  I wish I remembered more about the concert, but it was sensory overload.  
He wasn't very successful in the US and like many artists, found better luck in Europe.  But it wasn't long before he was a sensation there, especially after Woodstock.

Unfortunately, not so many years later, David and I had flown to Paris for a weekend and were at the hotel talking to some of the Rolling Stones.  Mick said he was heartbroken after Jimi's death, but that he hadn't been able to go to the funeral because there was an arrest warrant for him if he entered the US.

I really want to go visit his grave one day.  It's in Renton.

1966 Beach Boys

The Beach Boys came to Paris to start their European concert tour on October 25, 1966.  My friend Yves and I decided to try to find their hotel.  It didn't take long.  I don't remember now which one it was, probably either the Plaza Athenee or the Ritz.

Carl Wilson, Bruce Johnston, Al Jardine, Dennis Wilson, Mike Love

We stayed around the lobby.  Since I spoke American, it was easy enough to convince the hotel staff that I was connected to them in some way.  My mother taught me a lot.  Finally, a young American male came out of the elevator and I recognized him immediately.  

It was Bruce Johnson.  He was a cousin of the Wilsons and only joined the band on tour so he could play some of the instruments.  I went up to him and said something inane like "Hi Bruce!"  He gave me a big smile and said "You're American?"  When I confirmed that, he said "Great!  Can you come with me?  I'm going to record stores to see if they have our Pet Sounds album".  I grabbed Yves (who was dumbfounded) and said that we would be glad to!  

Arcades des Champs Elyees

He called to a limousine and we piled in.  We went to the Lido Record Store, which was in Les Arcades des Champs Elysées.  I went there all the time, and in fact had drawn a portrait of Brian Jones that hung in their window for a couple of months.  Bruce went to the front and asked if they had any Beach Boys albums.  No one recognized him.  This happened at four or five different record stores around the Champs Elysees.  They had the albums, but no one recognized him.  He was crushed.

Carl Wilson, Al Jardine, Mike Love
Bruce Johnson, Dennis Wilson

When we got back to the hotel, the others (except Brian) were in the lobby.  Bruce introduced Yves and me to Carl, Mike, and Dennis. Of course, Dennis was my favorite.  Bruce told them how handy it was to have me around since none of them spoke French.  They were heading to the concert hall, the Olympia, and invited Yves and me to go along.  We did, of course.  They did a sound check for their concert that night.  Yves was beside himself.  We went to the concert but couldn't get backstage that night, which didn't bother us too much, because Dennis had told us to come back to the hotel the next day.

Mike Love, Al Jardine,
Bruce Johnston, Carl Wilson

Dennis Wilson, Bruce Johnston,
Carl Wilson, Al Jardine, Mike Love

The next morning, we went back to the hotel and as requested, called their room to let them know we were there.  They came down with their suitcases, etc., headed to Germany for their next concert.  I was wearing my favorite red felt coat that had a hood and silver clips down the front.  Dennis decided he liked it and asked if he could try it on.  I took pictures of him wearing it, and a lot of pictures of all the others sitting on their suitcases, etc.  Yves took some of me with all of them, and vice versa.  

Then Dennis asked if I would do him a favor.  The previous year, he had met a German girl who was going to meet him at Orly Airport and go to Germany with them.  Was there any way I could ride with her and then act as an interpreter?  She spoke German and French and I spoke French and English.  I said of course I could.

A little while later, a sporty little car pulled up and out stepped a very pretty and stylish girl with platinum hair.  I can't remember her name, but it was obvious she and Dennis were close.  I explained my mission to her and she was fine with it.  The Beach Boys got into their limo and I got into her car, leaving poor Yves standing on the sidewalk.  

The thing that impressed me most about this girl was that she had a record player in the car, a turntable that slid in and out.  I had never seen such a thing.  She was really nice, and told me how she had met Dennis when they were on tour last year and had been waiting for them to come back to Europe.

When we got to Orly, of course there were tons of fans there.  The girl and I went to the First Class Lounge and found the Beach Boys.  That's the only time I ever saw Brian.  

It was an interesting experience.  Dennis had his arms around this girl and would murmur something to ME.  I would translate it and murmur it to HER, and so on.  Bizarre, but fun.  We all three got a kick out of it, to say nothing of the others.  Then Dennis turned to me and said, "Could you come to Germany with us?"  I was speechless.  Of course I wanted to say YES!  Travel with the Beach Boys?  But I knew there was no way.  I was still living with my parents.  My dad would have had Interpol after me.  It broke my heart to say no.

I stayed at Orly and watched their plane leave.  As with the Moody Blues, a few people asked me who I was.  "No one", I said, "I am no one, je ne suis personne" but they didn't believe me. 

Years later in 1983, when I heard Dennis had died, it was personal.  I remembered how much fun he was, how much he laughed, and how sweet he was.  But I wasn't surprised.

They say I live a fast life. Maybe I just like a fast life. I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world. It won't last forever, either. But the memories will 

... Dennis Wilson

1966 La Loco,The Animals, and The Streak

One night my friend Yves and I were at La Loco, the rock nightclub in Paris.  The band was Eric Burdon and the Animals, who were quite well known by then.

Eric Burdon and The Animals at La Loco 1966

La Loco 1966

La Loco 1966

Cream at La Loco 1966

The Hollies at La Loco in 1966

The Who at La Loco in 1966

As usual, during the performance, Yves and I sat on the dance floor, which was blocks of lighted tiles.  I was sitting on the edge right in front of Chas Chandler's amplifier.  They were rocking pretty hard, and the dance floor, and probably the stage too, was vibrating.

I was wearing my favorite outfit,  a cream-colored pantsuit made of fine wale corduroy, with a longish fitted jacket and slightly bell bottom pants.  I loved it.  As were were sitting there enjoying the show, suddenly I felt a stunning hit to my head, on the front, just behind my hairline, and just to the right of my part which was in the middle.  The next thing I knew, I was lying on the dance floor, Yves looking down at me, and the owner of the club pressing a napkin to my head.  The band had stopped.  

When I was finally aware of what was going on, the owner took me upstairs to his office suite and made sure I was all right.  He took me to his bathroom and helped me wash all the blood off my face.  There was blood all over my turtleneck and a few drops on the lapel of my jacket.  There was quite a bit on the pants.  I was traumatized by the blood.  When he got the bleeding pretty much controlled, he told me there was a fairly deep cut in my scalp.  He asked if I wanted him to take me to the hospital and I said absolutely not.  I had noticed some blood on Yves so I asked how he was.  Apparently, he just got a glancing blow on the shoulder - the blood was mine!

The owner made me drink some kind of alcohol and told me to lie down on his couch and he would send Yves up, which he did.   

Yves told me that Chas' amp had fallen over right onto my head.  The band immediately stopped playing and after they hauled me upstairs, they moved the equipment and started again (after they cleaned the blood off the lighted floor tiles of course).

We stayed upstairs for about a hour, then went back downstairs.  The Animals were done by then, and we sat at a table and took it easy.  When the club closed, the owner got me a cab and paid for it.  When I got home around 2:30 am, everyone was asleep of course.  I probably spent an hour in the bathroom trying to see my injury but I really couldn't so i went to bed. 

The next morning, I had my sister look at it and she thought it was bad.  My mother said I needed stitches and that I should have let the owner take me to the hospital.  My dad just shook his head.   I had a headache for a few days, but otherwise, I was fine.

My corduroy pants were ruined, but we were able to save the jacket.  In fact, David used to wear it on stage when he played with his band.

One added benefit was that I had free admission to La Loco for life!

About a year or so after this happened, I noticed something strange with my hair; in the area of the scar it was growing in white!  I loved it.  It was a permanent reminder of that night.  Ever since then, I have had a white streak in that spot.  I started parting my hair there, because it made a nice effect.  Now,even though my hair has a considerable amount of gray, I can still see my white streak.

In an odd twist of fate, Eric Burdon played at the one and only music festival held here in 2010.  I was excited, because I wanted to ask him if he remember that episode at La Loco.  The concert was good, and after he came offstage, I couldn't wait to go backstage and meet him.  My friend Jody and I stood in line to get into the tent they had set up, and we met one of the other bands who had played, Wishbone Ash.  They were very nice.  But then everyone was told that Mr. Burdon would not be giving autographs or talking to fans.  I asked for a special visit because I wanted to see if he remember something that had happened close to 45 years prior, but they weren't having it.  I was horribly crushed.

Eric Burdon 2010

Wishbone Ash 2010

 

1966 La Loco et le Metro

La Loco 1966

Every Saturday night, my 'gang' and I would go to a club called La Locomotive (knows as La Loco).  It was in the basement of the famous Moulin Rouge.  

Rock bands from England would come over and do shows there every week. There was a black and white checkerboard dance floor that was lit from underneath.  I didn't dance, I just sat with my friends and watched the bands and the dancers.  It was an incredible place.  

La Loco 1966

The Hollies at La Loco 1966

The Who at La Loco 1966

Cream at La Loco 1966

Some of the bands we saw were The Who; The Hollies; Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick, & Tich; Cream The Animals; probably a lot I have forgotten, and a lot of French bands and singers.  DD,D,B,M,&T were there so often that we called each other by name.  They had a hit called "Bend It" at the time.

Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick, & Tich

By the time they closed at 2:00 am, the Metro had stopped running for the night and didn't start again until 5:00 am.  


My friends and I (or usually Yves and I) would just wander the streets until it was time for the Metro to open.  Sometimes we would find a quiet doorstep and just sit and talk.  If the weather was bad, they let us stay in the lobby of Le Moulin Rouge.  Then at 5:00 am, I would get on my Metro and Yves and whomever else was with us would get on theirs and we would all go home.  I never felt at all afraid riding the Metro at 5 am.  It seems crazy now. 

One night in particular I remember Alain, Yves, and I were walking down a cobblestoned street after La Loco closed.  It had been raining and the cobblestones were shining from the water.  Somewhere, "Ruby Tuesday" was playing on a radio and I remember walking with my two friends, swinging our arms as we held hands, and thinking how perfectly happy I was.  The lyric "Goodbye Ruby Tuesday, who could hang a name on you, when you change with every new day, still I'm going to miss  you."  And it suddenly occurred to me that was Paris.  She changed all the time, and yet, she was so much a part of me.  I can honestly say that 50 years later, that is still true.  She always will be.  

Goodbye Ruby Tuesday

Who could hang a name on you?

When you change with every new day

Still I'm gonna miss you

There's no time to lose", I heard her say

Catch your dreams before they slip away 

1966 Witness

My dad worked outside Paris somewhere (I can't remember where now).  His drive home was fairly long, but usually uneventful.  One night, though, when he came in he was visibly upset, and he wasn't someone who showed emotion much.  Apparently, while he was on the highway and everyone was going at a high rate of speed, there was an accident right in front of him. He saw someone go flying from the car and onto the highway, and then be run over by several other cars.  He pulled over right away, but there were a lot of other people who had done the same, so he came home.  He was very shook up.

A few days later, the police came to interview him, I remember my mother acting as his interpreter because his French was not good.  A couple of months later, he had to testify at a trial.  Three people died in the accident.   It upset him tremendously.

1966 Richard and Tom

While I was living in Paris I often went with my friend Roland, who was a local photographer, to meet stars who came to play at the Olympia.  

Once I went to a hotel where Tom Jones and Little Richard were staying; they were having a concert that night.  Roland and I were the only ones there.  While we were waiting in the courtyard of the hotel, a limo pulled in.

The chauffeur opened the door and Tom Jones stepped out.  Roland took a few pictures of him, and Tom Jones stopped and posed.  

I walked up and asked him if I could have his autograph and he very rudely said "I don't have time for that now".  But he stopped again before he entered the building so Roland could take some more pictures.  

I was crushed.  I wasn't much of a fan of his, "It's Not Unusual" was okay, but not really my style.  My mother loved him though, and I was going to get the autograph for her.



About 30 minutes later, a car pulled up and Little Richard got out.  

I was blown away, he has been one of my idols forever.  

I wasn't even going to ask him for an autograph I was so starstruck. 


Roland took some pictures of him and then Little Richard turned to me and said "Honey, aren't you even going to ask for my autograph?"  His face was one huge smile.  I said "Of course I am" and when I went up to him, he gave me a big hug.  

What I remember most was how strong he was and how beautiful his skin was. I couldn't believe it, I was hugged by Little Richard - Little Richard!!!  I loved him.  And what a contrast.  A legend and an upstart.  There's a lesson in that somewhere. 

1966 Loved to Death

When I was in high school in Paris, for my English class we had to write an essay/short story about the dangers of fame.  My subject was Keith Relf, lead singer and founder of the Yardbirds, one of my favorite bands.  There was something mysterious about Keith. 

The story was written in a stream of consciousness style.  I got an A for content, an A for creativity, and a D for grammar.  My mother was so irate she was going to drive all the way to Louveciennes to confront my teacher.  I talked her into just writing a letter, which I never gave to my teacher.  I loved my story, so I really didn't care what anyone else thought.  Not only that, but I was one of three chosen by the teacher to read our stories out loud to the class.  It was not what the other students expected.  I wish I still had it.  

Keith Relf

"If there is any consolation to be taken from the tragic death of Keith Relf, it is that he died doing what he loves; making music.  The former Yardbirds frontman was playing an ungrounded guitar in his basement when he was electrocuted on May 14, 1976.  He was 33."

That isn't how he died in my story.  He was torn apart by his loving fans.

1966 Hamlet and Omelette

When we lived in Paris, my friend Alain (brother of David, who became husband #1), gave me a couple of baby hamsters.  

I had a red hooded jacket that I absolutely adored, and they would stay in the hood.  They lived in a small cage in my bedroom.  The cage must have been makeshift because they always escaped.  Usually they ran around my bedroom because I kept the door closed.  I didn't want our Cocker Spaniel, Benjamin, to eat them.  

At night, though, I usually left my door open so I could hear my dad's alarm (clock radio tuned in to a German station that played military marching music first thing in the morning).  

One morning, while it was still dark and before the alarm went off, I heard a bloodcurdling scream.  I jumped out of bed and ran into my parents' bedroom, where my mother was sitting up in bed, pointing at her pillow.  There, rignt in the middle of the pillow, were Hamlet and Omelette, sitting up looking at me.  My dad was still asleep, as was my sister in her room.  I grabbed the hamsters and ran back to my room.  Fortunately, I made it before a bellowed with laughter.  After that, the hamsters were threatened with death if they ever escaped again.  

Actually, not long thereafter, we realized that Hamlet was a male and Omelette was a female.  Omelette eventually had babies, and then Hamlet killed her and the babies.  It was a massacre.  He was alone after that, the murderer..

1966 Happy Birthday Mr. Dylan

I went to a Dylan concert in Paris on 5/24/1966, right after he went electric. It was actually his birthday. I got to go backstage with my friend Roland (who was a news photographer) and meet him and shake his hand. I wished him happy birthday and he lit up. He was wearing a green and black houndstooth suit, very spiffy and unlike his usual garb. 

Concert at l"Olympia in Paris on May 24, 1966

The first half of the show was acoustic, and the second half (after intermission) was , and half the people walked out or booed.

Ironically, about 5 years later, I lived around the block from him.  I lived on Houston Street and he lived on McDougal Street in Greenwich Village.

I had all his albums.  I had bought them in Paris, so the covers were all in French. I used to have a bunch of pictures taken by my friend, but I have lost them over the years.

During my classes at the American School of Paris, which was at the small chateau which had been the residence of Mme du Barry, mistress of King Louis XV, I would take Dylan songs and write new verses. My best one was "When The Ship Comes In", I wrote 12 new verses to that one. Then I would have my mother read them and see if she could tell which were his and which were mine. She couldn't.

And now HE's won the Nobel Prize for Literature.  And who would ever have imagined that 50 years later I can listen to that actual concert on my laptop (my what?)

1966 The Moody Blues

In 1966 my sister and went to a Moody Blues concert in Paris. 

While we were waiting outside by the stage door to see the band arrive, we were interviewed by a guy who said he worked for a radio station. He was intrigued because we spoke English and because my sister was carrying this huge stuffed owl named Ostrobogolus. She wanted to give him to one of the band, but this radio station guy said we should throw him onstage. 

Ostrobogolus

For the concert we sat in the 2nd row. The guys sitting in the front row turned around and talked to us a lot about Ostrobogolus, plus the fact we were American, etc. The one who talked the most was named Alain and my sister had an instant crush on him (he was cute for sure). When I told him we had been interviewed by the radio station guy, he cracked up and told us that was no radio station guy, that was his brother Claude and the tape recorder didn't even work, he was just trying to meet girls! We felt pretty dumb. 

I believe Alain is the one who threw Ostrobogolus on stage.  Denny, the singer, picked him up and set him on John's piano and he sat there for the whole concert. When they left the stage, they took him with them.  

Moody Blues 1966

Afterwards we went backstage (easy at the Olympia in Paris if you spoke English). That’s the first time we met them. John said they were going to take Ostrobogolus to their recording studio and keep him on their piano because the Paris concerts were so successful. 

We saw them several times after that.  

Denny Laine

The final time, I told Denny about a Union Jack shirt i had just bought, it was a shirt that looked like it had been made from a British flag. He wanted to see it, so I shot home in a cab (that he paid for), got it, and wore it back. He loved it!  At the concert that night during the show, he yelled "Long live the shirt". I’m sure no one knew what he meant but my sister and me!

The next day he asked if I wanted to go to the airport with them. Of course I did. I cut school (again) and we went to the airport from the hotel in a Plymouth Valiant driven by an English girl who had something to do with the TV show "Ready Steady Go!" but who lived in Paris.  (I think she was the one who recruited the dancers). It was a tight fit in that car, as there were the 4 of them, and her and me. 

I stayed at the airport for a couple of hours until they left, and gave Denny a big hug, then she drove me home where I proceeded to get a royal ass chewing from my dad because that absence was the one that caused me to be suspended from school.  I didn’t care; I was flying high at that point, I was so crazy about Denny. The next day i got on the metro and someone asked for my autograph because they had seen me with the Moody Blues and thought I was 'someone'. How crazy was that?  But that was the last time I saw Denny. 

Later, the Moodys came back to Paris, but Denny was not there, it was Justin. That’s when

Denny Laine

their sound totally changed to what they are more famous for (which I love also). 

I heard Denny had had a nervous breakdown and was in a mental hospital, but I think that was all crap because I can find no record of it. Then he was with Paul McCartney and Wings. 

The Moodys did a song called "Everyday","…every day, someone finds a love they say". I haven't heard it since the last time I saw them.  And, "Go Now" is one I cannot listen to - ever.   He left a hole in my heart and this song rips it open every time.  This video may well be from that Paris concert.  

Go Now

I know I will always love Denny. Maybe someday he will come around here and I can find out if he remembers Ostrobogolus and 'Long live the shirt'

*********************************************************************************

December  5, 2023

Rest in Peace, Denny, I will never forget you.  "Long live the shirt!"

1966 Samedan

Gare du Nord, Paris

We went to Switzerland in the summer of 1966 when we were living in Paris.  We took a train from the Gare du Nord at around 10 pm.  We had sleeping cars, but I couldn't go to sleep, it was too exciting.  I remember when we crossed the border into Switzerland, there were a lot of voices and ringing bells.  People came down the aisles of the train, but they didn't wake anyone up.  I guess we were stopped about 30 minutes. 

 

The Mountains

Then in the morning, we stopped and got into a really small train, it looked like a toy, and the track wound around the mountain.  I was sure we were going to fall off!  The snow was like nothing I had ever seen before.  It looked like whipped cream.  The trip in the little train was like something out of a movie, it was spectacular.
 
When we arrived at the town, we rented a car and drove to a house that was one of a group of several rentals in a valley. Then some friends of ours from Paris came to join us with their two daughters (Val and Irene Dale).  Val was Russian, and I always loved to listen to him talk.  

Samedan

One day my mother and Irene went to St. Moritz shopping.  We got mad at being left behind, so we started walking along the road, in the snow, with no idea if we were even headed in the right direction.  Finally, someone picked us up and took us back to the house.  

  

One of Val's daughters, Valerie, and I did not get along and she and I got into a horrific physical fight.  After that, our families pretty much went our own separate ways, only seeing each other in the evenings.  

One day, we went to a ski resort.  We didn't ski, but I remember sitting outside in the sun on a huge wooden balcony surrounded by the most amazing mountains.  It seemed like I could reach out and touch them, they were very tall and jagged.  One of the ski instructors came and sat down and talked to us, telling us about how the air was so thin that everything seemed very close.  He said the sun also felt very hot the reason.  He also told us we were very close to the area where Buddy Werner* had died two years before in an avalanche.  I remembered him as an Olympic skier I used to watch it on TV, and how sad it was when he died.  

Buddy Werner

Then we took the little toy train back around the mountain, and the big train back to Paris.  It was an amazing trip.  I remember my mother, before the trip, wondering if we should have stayed in St Moritz, which was a huge tourist area, but Val had convinced my parents to go to the small town of Samedan and I think we had a lot more fun.