| Page Two The immediate objective was to get him out of this environment. A ticket to Italy was purchased, and I made plans to distract him for as long as I could to help him through his depression. Suffice it to say, the trip to Italy was a bust, notwithstanding side trips to Switzerland, England, and other points. He drank an alarming amount of bourbon and was generally inconsolable. One of the few highpoints of the trip is the picture we took in the Alps that now graces this album. When he returned to the U.S. in the fall of 1972, he left Big Star. I was still worried about him. Over the next two years Chris managed a few visits to L.A. He spent time with Andrew Lauder and was encouraged by the likes of Bud Scopa and Greg Shaw. Unfortunately, none of this brought him out of his depression. He had attempted suicide at least twice during these years and had been hospitalized as a result. A brief reunion with Alex and Jody led to three songs on Big Star's Radio City ("O My Soul," "Way Out West," and "Back of a Car"), but the extent of Chris' involvement is sketchy at best. During the course of four or five trips to the States to visit family, I saw a slow deterioration in Chris. He had occasionally sent me demos which showed that he continued to grow musically and lyrically, but on the personal side, his sadness was a constant source of concern to me. It culminated in a horrific scene during a trip home in the summer of 1974. After a night on the town, I returned home and walked into my brother's room to find him pulling with his teeth on a rubber tourniquet, a syringe in his hand. I froze. Not wanting to harm him in some sort of struggle with the needle, I stood and watched. Now there was no choice but to get him out of Memphis away from the availability of drugs and onto something as happy and productive as possible. So I dangled a carrot in front of him. We should go to France to do some recording at the studios of the Chateau D'Herouville where Elton John had recorded Honky Chateau and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. I somehow had to make him feel like a star, like someone on the verge of discovery, especially with his recent track record of uniformly fabulous reviews for #1 Record. Arrangements were made for Chris to fly over in September with Richard Rosebrough. Richard had been instrumental in engineering and drumming on many of Chris' songs, and also an integral part of many of the earliest Ardent recordings. They arrived in Italy in mid-September of 1974 and after a holiday of about ten days in Rome and the north of Italy, we ended up at a garden party in the countryside out from Torino. Several Italian industrialists, guests of the party, continually asked Chris to play some songs. He complied, and, after finishing one number during which everyone continued to talk, he began playing Joni Mitchell's People's Parties. Singing in English, the Italian guests never understood the return of the insult. However, a teenage son of one of the businessmen got up and left in disgust. He was elated two months later when I presented him with a copy of #1 Record. The next morning we took a train to the studio. Arriving the following day at the station in Pontoise, some forty kilometers from Paris, we were met by people from the Chateau who drove us to the village of Heureville. The Chateau had been the setting for many a tryst between Chopin and Georges Sand. The reception was a nice stroke for Chris' ego, in that his reputation had preceded him. Several quality songs were put down on tape here, though his initial disappointment upon finding the exact same recording console he'd left behind in Memphis might have been disastrous. As recording progressed, we learned that our English engineer, Claude Harper, had been a technical engineer at Apple in London, working with Geoff Emerick. Geoff had engineered all of the Beatles' recordings from Sgt. Pepper onwards. Claude made a call to London and was able to arrange a few days for us in October at George Martin's Air Studios. Mixing tracks with Geoff at Air was a remarkable experience. Chris showed no deference to Geoff in spite of his impressive history, yet certainly respected his talent. He once wrote me that all the time he spent in England had been worth it, if only for that one mix Geoff had done of "I Am the Cosmos". On our last day at Air an acetate arrived from EMI and we were treated to a preview of Junior's Farm which interestingly enough had been recorded in Tennessee. With a not-so-subtle grin, Chris asked Geoff if he needed a tape delivered to EMI Studios that night. Not so coincidentally, Geoff was going to be doing a final mix of Junior's Farm there with McCartney. At first, Geoff seemed a bit ill-at-ease with the proposal, but said that we might stop by for just a few minutes. We were met by Geoff in the control room of Studio 2, where all of the Beatles' songs had been recorded until the time of Apple. In about ten minutes, a ruckus in the hallway announced Paul's arrival. He and Linda strode in and after about ten minutes of chit-chat Chris and I left to see Studio 1, which seemed so big that a football game could be played in it. We returned to Studio 2 and had a few more minutes generally centered around recording technique, with Chris asking how all the different vocals were achieved. Then it was over and we said goodbye. Stepping out into the hall I seemed to make out a radiance on Chris' face. He felt he had arrived! "One down, two to go," he said, in reference to Harrison and Lennon. Apparently he had no interest in meeting Ringo. The mixing ended and it was time for us to go our separate ways. He returned to the States and I to Italy. We met again in Memphis for Christmas and decided to meet again in the French West Indies. Italy had run its course with me and Chris still needed guidance. At this point it was more a case of the blind leading the blind, I'm afraid. On the first of February 1975, I arrived on the island of St. Maarten. Part of my reward for being in the marketplace in Italy wound up being an interest in a home on this lovely and at that time, remote island. Leaving the seeming stability and structure of a business without a clue as to what my next move would be, I was hardly prepared to guide my brother. But after two and a half months of false starts I knew that any business venture in the Caribbean was out of the question. The logical next step was to return to England and attempt to sell our best asset, the music of Chris Bell. next page previous page HOME |