"John was wearing shades, his chestnut hair glistening in the studio lights, big ones over his ears, sitting in a booth by himself, looking at his session band through a plate-glass partition, changing on a solid body electric, grinning, laughing,smiling, and chattering like some mad coachman who keeps whipping the horses, kerrraaack, kerrraaack, kerrraaack, scaring the shit out of all his passengers, except he knows perfectly well he's going to get everybody home safe. He's just in a hurry.
"Jim Keltner was bushed and didn't mind dropping hints about it. Klaus Voorman never loses his cool but he was starting to pale around the fringes. Nicky Hopkins always looks like you could blow him over but now he was invisible. Even Indian Ed (Jesse Davis) was starting to droop and you know what an ox he is. It was one of the most dynamite bands ever to put locker- room stink into a studio and how could John help but enjoy playing with them? The trouble was he was enjoying it too much.
"He had been running them ragged. They had been going for days: John, of course, looking as bright, cheerful, fresh, and alert as a toadsticker dancing on a cue ball. Mad coachman? He was Ben Hur winning the chariot race. When I walked in theywere doing the seventh international marathon take of some instrumental with a tricky break, and their speed left me, old fart, gasping. Over and over again they did it, sometimes blowing it in the middle somewhere, and John would just start counting
"Aaaaagh!" John cried out, his head jerking upward, like the executioner had just pulled the switch on him in the electric chair.
-- From an article by Aronowitz in the August 29, 1974 issue of Rolling Stone
On 23/05/2022 12:06 am, Norbert K wrote:smiling, and chattering like some mad coachman who keeps whipping the horses, kerrraaack, kerrraaack, kerrraaack, scaring the shit out of all his passengers, except he knows perfectly well he's going to get everybody home safe. He's just in a hurry.
"John was wearing shades, his chestnut hair glistening in the studio lights, big ones over his ears, sitting in a booth by himself, looking at his session band through a plate-glass partition, changing on a solid body electric, grinning, laughing,
Jesse Davis) was starting to droop and you know what an ox he is. It was one of the most dynamite bands ever to put locker- room stink into a studio and how could John help but enjoy playing with them? The trouble was he was enjoying it too much."Jim Keltner was bushed and didn't mind dropping hints about it. Klaus Voorman never loses his cool but he was starting to pale around the fringes. Nicky Hopkins always looks like you could blow him over but now he was invisible. Even Indian Ed (
doing the seventh international marathon take of some instrumental with a tricky break, and their speed left me, old fart, gasping. Over and over again they did it, sometimes blowing it in the middle somewhere, and John would just start counting off"He had been running them ragged. They had been going for days: John, of course, looking as bright, cheerful, fresh, and alert as a toadsticker dancing on a cue ball. Mad coachman? He was Ben Hur winning the chariot race. When I walked in they were
"Aaaaagh!" John cried out, his head jerking upward, like the executioner had just pulled the switch on him in the electric chair.
-- From an article by Aronowitz in the August 29, 1974 issue of Rolling StoneCoke or 'uppers' ?
geoff
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