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Friday, August 01, 2014

Let's Play Mamas and Papas...

July 31st – That popular phrase;
It’s not what you know but who you know…and who you are.
is a rich seam in the music industry that’s mined to exhaustion. There was a time when (Oh, Christ…here he goes again; ‘In my day…’ “I’m not interested, Peter…”) there was a time when, to get anywhere in the business you had to do the rounds, cut your chops but, even with all that experience you still needed someone to show you the door marked famous…and if you also had someone who could switch on the desk lamp so’s you could actually read the contract you were signing, then all the better. It’s a measure of what makes the rock business function today to say that it used to be on talent and money…now it’s just the money. Now, instead of being paid to play, as support act you, the band, have to pay…it may be in the form of supplying the sound system, the back line kit or the catering (all to the headline act’s specification, of course) but pay you will or you don’t get on it.
Of course, if you had money and influence behind the band then favours could be called in, loans made, pay-back favours promised between friends in the biz, and this sort of back-scratching seeped into all sorts of situations where a deal needed to be done. I’ve lost count of the legions of stories that have filtered back to even a person such as me, a person on the very, very, very edge of the business. Where the agent or manager of an established star has called on friends in high places in order to quash a drug story, sex scandal, marriage violation, violent interlude or some such other misdemeanour, so you can imagine what those in the inner-circle get to hear about. The major political storms over sex, drugs, inappropriate fondling and inappropriate money manipulation have only surfaced because of one party (that’s as in involved person not political movement) because of one party or another’s feeling hard done by and, instead of deciding to talk it over and come to some agreement has decided to run to the press with a scoop, that or a dogged reporter finding the scoop for him or herself and in spite of pleadings and bribery has deciding to publish and be damned.
Do you remember The Mamas & The Papas? All but one dead and gone now. They had a huge hit in the 60’s with Monday, Monday. One of their number, Cass Elliot, (Mama Cass, I believe she was called) was renowned for her…her…difficulty with controlling her weight, so-much-so that she died at the tender age of thirty-five through a massive heart attack; no age is the right age to die, if you get my drift, but 35? No justice there. There were also, it has to be said, rumours around the band (considered to be a decidedly MOR collection of both songs and band members that you’d happily send your maiden aunt out on a date with) rumours of substance abuse, so that may have contributed to Ms. Elliot’s demise. It certainly contributed to the arrest of ‘Papa’ John Phillips on this day in 1980. Arraigned before the court for possession of cocaine sufficient to distribute and of running a useful line in false prescriptions with a local chemist’s shop, he was given a sentence commensurate with the seriousness of the crime: 8 years.
Strange then that before setting foot in the local pen, his sentence was reduced to 30 days and a bit of community service…
Like I said; It’s not what you know but who you know…and who you are. Mind you, they could have also done him over for incest and that would have warranted at least, oh, I don’t know…three days of picking litter? (Bet you’re interested now, aren’t y’!?)

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