Rock Bottom: Dark Moments In Music Babylon - Plot & Excerpts
In the early, early days, right in front of my greedy eyes, he would slink around the Sunset Strip, black leather unzipped, devilish grin, cocky and unremorseful. “Aaaahh,” we all whispered. “What goes on behind that flawless face? Where does he go when the lights go all the way down?” Tousled, tormented, and highly in demand, he led the parade with dangerous indifference. Even the naked facts do nothing to alter those early images: dark, messy ringlets, love beads, angry, penetrating scowl. Come hither, but be careful. The first time I witnessed Jim Morrison slither onto a stage, I was bombed out of my mind on a very early version of PCP called Trimar. My friend Jerry Penrod, the bass player for Iron Butterfly, smuggled it out of the hospital where he worked during the day. He got it in quart jars and handed them right to me. Wasn’t I just the lucky one? An itsy-bitsy vial sold for ten dollars on the street, so I was very popular that balmy night in Hollywood. The underground cavern club Bido Lido’s was packed.
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