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Electric Lady Studios: A Jimi Hendrix Vision (2024)

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Electric Lady Studios: A Jimi Hendrix Vision (2024)

Post by bunniefuu »

When you hit a guitar...

...it starts at this point

and just amplifies out,

and it just envelops with

this beautiful, fat, gorgeous sound.

It's a unique-sounding room.

I have to be honest with you, I don't

really know that much about studios,

but we spent the next year of our lives

designing and building this studio.

This was totally creative chaos.

The challenges were

a lot of challenges.

When Electric Lady was completed,

that was our studio.

Oh, it was something,

it was personal.

Oh, he loved it, he loved the idea.

He was really looking forward to it.

It was to be his living room,

his bedroom, his house.

He knew he had something special.

And you go,

"Number one, boy, was that unique.

Number two, boy, was that valuable."

And hopefully you can say

we handled it well.

We created a vibe in there for Jimi

that is so apparent.

And his spirit still is there.

People walk into the studio and hair

stands up on the back of their head.

One of my great loves with Jimi

in any situation,

is you could be in the armpit

of North Carolina, or wherever,

you can have a lousy gig,

you go back to the hotel or motel,

and Jimi would say,

"Hey, so and so is playing up the road."

And we go and play.

It's what happened after the gigs

that made up for a lot of the trials

and tribulations of the road.

He just took his guitar with him

everywhere.

One night we went to see

Albert King at the Village Gate.

And he brought his guitar

and got up on stage with Albert King

at the end of the show,

which was always a surprise

to everybody.

I didn't know who in the hell

Jimi Hendrix was.

Anyway,

I was at one of these wild things,

the place was packed

and they were screaming.

And all of a sudden someone was

hollering, "There's Jimi, there's Jimi!"

He was crawling up on the floor

with this wah-wah pedal and his guitar,

With his big hat.

And I said, "So, what the hell,

who is Jimi?"

And that's the time we met.

He would always take his guitar with him

and go listen to music

and then get up

and be on stage and jam.

So, that was really

what was important to him, his music.

I was the general manager

of a night club called The Scene.

It was a hotbed of music in those days.

It was half disco and half live music.

I met Jimi one night when he came in

with The Experience and wanted to jam.

I said, "Sure, fine, let's do it."

It was hard to get him off stage.

He was magnetic, he was fantastic.

We really got to know one another

when 05:00 am he was still jamming

and I was now an hour over

the allowed time in New York City

to operate a liquor establishment.

So I had to cut the power.

Afterwards he said,

"Why'd you do that?"

I said, " | had to, Jimi, sorry,

that's management for you."

It was the beginning

of a long relationship.

I'm a young architectural student

having just graduated from Princeton,

I'm 22 years o/o', and made a decision

not to go to graduate school

but to move to Manhattan

and start working.

Pretty quickly,

a strange event happened one night.

I was literally standing on line

waiting to get some ice cream

and answered an ad in the paper out

of boredom, just picked up the paper.

And the paper had a want ad that asked,

"Wanted: Carpenters to work for free

on an experimental nightclub."

I said, "Well, that sounds like fun."

And I found myself 3O minutes later

in an apartment on the Upper West Side

with some g*y guys,

actually I'd never met a g*y person

in my life, wanting to do this club.

They had a little model in a shoe box

that was gonna take place

with somebody's trust fund money

in a loft in SoHo.

I'd never heard of the word 'SoHo'.

And I said, "Well, that's interesting."

And three months later,

I'd essentially re-designed the club,

led the carpentry crew,

worked at nights, kept my day job,

kept my band job, and the club opens.

Now it's November of 1968

and this club does open.

It was called Cerebrum,

it was very well known.

It's a super-electric, turned-on,

far-out fantasy land called Cerebrum,

where anyone can play.

Lived for about nine months,

in a I01' 0f books.

Marshall McLuhan read it,

everybody loved it.

It was one of the 'in' things

to come to.

It was kind of a sensorium

that you entered, changed your clothes,

and was a cross between a club

and theatre.

And you lived in these little

floating pods,

and smoke came up,

and projections were on.

It was way ahead of its time.

Everybody would go to this club

when they came to New York,

including, one night, Jimi Hendrix.

Now the story

gets a little more interesting.

Jimi Hendrix at the time was also

apparently going every night

to a blues club in the Village,

in the basement of 52 West 8th Street.

It was called The Generation.

It became the site

of Electric Lady Studios.

Jimi loved to jam

and it was a beautiful club.

And he said to Mike,

"Why don't we just buy this?

So I can have a place where I can jam

and maybe we'll put a little tiny studio

in the back?"

He basically turned to his manager

and said,

"Find the person who did this club

in downtown Manhattan

and let's see if we can get that person

to do my club."

And one night I got a call

from Michael Jeffery

to design a club for Jimi Hendrix.

Jimi was hanging out in the club

and his personal manager, Mike Jeffery,

would come through on occasions.

I became friendly with them both.

Jimi's idea was to extend his holding

and go into a joint venture with Mike

doing a nightclub

down in Greenwich Village.

They saw a prospective club called the

Village Barn originally, in the village.

They bought it up when it went bankrupt

for $50,000 in a bankruptcy sale.

It was called the Generation

at that time, not the Village Barn,

because Barry lmhoff, the owner,

was bringing in rock music

like we were at the Scene

and had Sly & the Family Stone appearing

regularly and lots of R&B groups.

But he couldn't get his liquor license.

Jimi jammed down there frequently

and got to love the club.

But when it couldn't make money

and went broke,

because of the lack of a liquor license

to generate the sales

required to substantiate the overhead.

Jimi bought it at 50,000 and thought

that he could have a better go at it.

He asked me if I'd come

into the corporation partnership

and build a club for him.

They buy the club

and it sits there for six months,

they're doing nothing with it.

Finally they say,

"Well, let's design this nightclub."

Of course I accept the job.

And now I'm moonlighting

to design this club, which I did.

Jimi's directions were to make it very

soft, he wanted the lights to change.

He actually wanted a lot of the things

he saw in Cerebrum.

The idea was, "Hey, Jimi wants to be

able to record with an 8-track machine,

a little thing, stuck in one corner.

Kramer, do you wanna come down

and check it out?"

I remember very clearly

going down to 52 West 8th Street.

I opened this funky door,

walked down the stairs

into this very dark club.

It was basically demolished.

There was holes in the floor

and parts of walls had been ripped out.

And there was a little office where

Jim Marron had made his home

with, I guess, industrial-type lights

above him.

I started talking to him, I said,

"This is the space

that Jimi wants to have a nightclub?"

He said, "Yeah, yeah, and he wants

to put a studio somewhere over there."

And I'm thinking to myself,

"That's crazy.

He '5 spending a bloody fortune

in stud/o time, $ 750 f0 $200, 000 a year.

Why don't we build him

the best studio in the world?

A place where Jimi could call it

his home."

And then we had to convince John Storyk,

poor John.

I got a call from Jim Marron that said,

"The club is being scrapped.

It's now gonna become a studio."

And he was pulling his hair out

because he knew nothing about

recording studios, or how to build them.

So I watched this incredible commission

disappear right before my eyes.

Jim blamed it on Eddie Kramer,

so my first meeting with Eddie

was not a very good one.

Eddie was like, "Oh my gosh,

you just cost me a very exciting job."

But the next day,

or a few days later,

we met, "Jim, Eddie Kramer."

"How are you doing?"

And, "We'd like you to stay on

and do the studio."

I said, "I have to be honest with you,

I don't really know that much

about studios."

They basically said,

"You're gonna work with Eddie."

I agreed at the time to leave my job

and work for free as an intern

with another acoustician, Bob Hanson,

whose specialty was radio stations

but knew a lot about isolation.

Based on that,

Eddie Kramer, and a few other people,

we spent the next year of our lives

designing and building this studio.

The recording studio

was very important to Jimi.

He would book a studio

for hours and hours.

He probably spent most of his money

in recording studios.

He would have a different musician

come and see him and play with him

and they would jam in the studios.

Jimi was spending a lot of time

at the Record Plant.

They would let the clock run

and bill him for everything.

It was a lot of money.

He would book it

from 09:00 pm until 07:00 am.

He would spend

hours and hours in the studio.

He would play, he would edit, he would

produce, he would do everything.

Jimi and Eddie

had a very nice connection.

Eddie was like his engineer of choice.

Eddie was his man, really,

they had a very good connection.

There were really two forces at play

to complete the story, one was Eddie.

Eddie, I know this now for a fact,

had no interest in the club.

The club was, what does Eddie

wanna have anything to do with a club?

And here he is watching Jimi

spending a lot of money

with a small control room

in the back 0f a club,

but this is not really meeting

Eddie's dreams and goals.

He would like to have

his signature studio.

Now he was nibbling away in Jimi's ear,

which he had,

to convert this incredible space,

with the high ceilings and no columns,

into a world-class studio.

But there was another force at play too,

and that's Jim Marron.

Jim had club experience,

he had operated a club called The Scene,

another club where Jimi used to go

but a bit uptown.

When I explained the facts

of life in New York City

and that Jimi was neither

Italian or white,

and that he would have

a great difficulty

operating an establishment

of that nature on 8th Street,

they asked for my recommendation

on what they should do

because they had already bought

the existing premise

at a bankruptcy sale for $50,000.

So, I proposed that we could build

a recording studio

that was like a nightclub,

that it would be a place

he could entertain his friends

and open for private parties.

They hired me on as president

of the corporation,

to put the studio together

and make it a reality.

Jim knew that this would not make

a lot of money.

Clubs are a nightmare.

They look like they make

a lot of money but they really don't.

So he "s also nibbling away saying,

'L4re you real/y sure you Wanna do this?

Anyway, the two of them, they must have

been successful in bending the tale,

because the club

literally became a studio

and the story unfolded

and we never looked back.

No one ever looked back ever since.

My friend and I went out

and we found an apartment for Jimi,

a lovely apartment on 12th Street.

It was a very happy time for him.

His apartment was

a very comfortable place.

We'd sit up there

and eat strawberry upside-down cake,

watch TV, and then practice.

Jimi was a very humble guy.

He wasn't wild about spending

and having this and having that,

and a lot of material things.

He wasn't worried about that.

He could walk four blocks,

he was on 12th Street,

he would walk carrying his guitar, with

his hat and his bag over his shoulders,

walking down the Village

straight to the studio.

People would say, "Hi, Jimi."

He would nod.

They would acknowledge him

but they would never bug him.

Yeah, pass me that bottle again.

Unlike most studios of that era,

the concept was to make

the control room big,

make it an artist's room.

The idea that the artist

was on that side of the glass,

was a relatively new idea.

Most control rooms were small,

they were for engineers.

Artists are on the other side

of the glass.

They come in, they go out,

have a nice day.

This was completely different.

The room was big, big, spacious,

a lot of glass.

That was Eddie's idea.

The shape of the studio was with

the sloping ceiling going up to a point

and the beauty of that room.

John designed the control room,

it was on two levels.

In front of the control room desk,

it dropped down about four or five feet

and there was a bench

that was covered in cushions

so that the friends of Jimi or the

friends of the artist could sit in front

not disturb what we're doing,

out of our sight line.

And to my right

was a beautiful booth with glass,

so that I could just turn my head,

I could see the singer on my right.

If I looked straight ahead

I could see the whole band.

It was cocoon-like, that's what it was.

It felt like when you walked in there,

"Ah!"

I'm enveloped

by the warmth of this room.

Well, let's do it straight right now,

you can overdub all that.

We'll call this one "Drifting", OK?

- The tape's running, Jimi.

- OK.

Two, three, four...

Jimi's idea was to leave the acoustics

and the technology to,

"You guys, you figure it out.

I just want things to be soft and curvy.

I want things to be white,

and then I Want the light

to be able to change it.

Jimi wanted some way

to control the atmosphere,

some way to control the aura

of the room, the vibe of the room.

and I could see Why.

So they came up with this idea

of putting white carpeting on the walls,

and then up, recessed up

in a valance was colored lights.

Jimi adored that,

this was something that...

We would play games about that.

He would say to me, "Hey, man,

I want some of that purple on the wall,

and green over there."

And we would just dial in the various

colors and we'd start laughing about it,

and then, "No, make it darker, darker."

"OK, fine, I got it, I got it."

It was fun.

We could make an atmosphere

that he felt comfortable in

and that he was able to direct and say,

"This is what I want."

No one had ever seen anything like it.

When other artists would come

to the studio they'd say,

"OK, blue,

let's put on some blue today."

Well, see, Jimi had that

way before anybody else.

And that's just a spark of creativity.

Jimi had some interesting ideas

that none of us would have come up with.

- That's the entire front?

- Yeah.

It was my job to create the staff,

put them all together,

get the finest engineers you can find.

I was the drummer

for The Am boy Dukes.

That's how we all met Eddie

for the first time, he was our engineer.

I get a call to do an album with a band

called Ted Nugent & The Am boy Dukes.

This drummer comes to me

after the session and says,

"Hey, I got this tape,

I'd like you to have a listen to it

and tell me what you think of it

technically."

So at one point I play him the tape

of "Hey Jude", this little doo-wop song.

And Eddie was kind of impressed.

He said, "You did this

down in the basement?"

I said, "Yeah,

two little Sony tape recorders."

And Eddie went, "Hmm."

So Eddie says, "Hey, Dave, this weekend,

how about you stay in town with me?

You can stay at my place,

I wanna show you something."

That's all he said,

and I went, "OK."

The next day we went down

to 8th Street in Greenwich Village

and kick open this little cement door

and we walk down the stairs.

He goes, "This is gonna be

Jimi Hendrix's recording studio.

We're gonna call it Electric Lady,

this is gonna be Studio A."

It's dirt and concrete

and Eddie's all beaming,

he's all, "This will be Studio A

and this will be Control A

and down the hall will be Studio B."

And I'm going, "Oh, OK."

Eddie says to me,

"Dave, I think you'd make a better

recording engineer than a drummer.

How would you like to come and

work for me at Electric Lady Studios?"

I just loved being in the studio.

And the more I saw Eddie work,

the more I respected what he was doing.

He had a whole new slant

to how to get things done.

He'd give you a scream

every once in a while

if he didn't think you were doing

as best as you could do.

That's another thing I learned

from Eddie.

Then, of course I learned there's times

when not to scream at the artist.

I learned that too.

And after a while,

Eddie let me run the tape machine.

Then Eddie would take me out in

the studio and show me some mic set-ups.

I was eating it all up.

And Eddie let me be his second engineer.

Then I hired Kim King,

he was my next choice.

Kim was great, we had some of the best

up-and-coming assistant engineers.

In 1966, when he was Jimi James

& the Blue Flames at the Cafe Wha?,

- we jammed together on a daily basis

- Whoa!

Because it was free hamburgers

at the Night Owl to any musicians.

- And we were all broke.

- Free hamburgers at the Night Owl.

At the Night Owl, he had this set

of changes that he was working on

and we'd just jam on it every afternoon.

Then he disappeared, went to England,

and the next thing we knew,

"Hey Joe", Lothar was the house band

at The Scene.

Jimi kept a guitar at the Scene.

If Jimi was there and wanted to play,

that guitar would appear.

I jammed with him

a couple of times there.

We talked for a minute or two

and he said,

"Oh, right, you're that slide player

from the Night Owl."

So there was that connection

and he said, "Right,

you're the guitar player, I know you."

Jimi and I are at Juggy Sound

in New York on 54th Street,

and we're mixing the "Band of Gypsys".

Now, we all know

that Buddy Miles loved to jam.

Buddy liked f0 improvise

and he liked f0 scat sing.

I just remember this one track we're

mixing and Buddy is going on and on.

And I'm looking at Jimi

out of the corner of my eye.

He's sitting next to me and he's wearing

his hat and Jimi's head's going down,

finally, he's on the desk

and he's like this.

And the hat's over his head,

and I can just hear him mumbling,

"Oh, I wish Buddy

would shut the f*ck up."

So we had to do a lot of edits.

And Kim King,

who was the assistant engineer,

I gave him a task of cutting

a lot of Buddy Miles' stuff out.

My instructions were to pull it together

so it was guitar

and to eliminate the excess drums.

It was 20-some odd minutes

and we had to get it.

That was more than you can fit on a side

in an LP at that point.

It was an audition.

And he did a damn fine job.

I said, "Kim, would you be interested,

by any chance,

in coming down to see this new place

that we're building for Jimi

and becoming an assistant engineer?"

And I think he jumped at the chance.

In terms of people that Eddie hired that

he could train up, he went to musicians.

It was just smart on his part.

They picked two people who were

already good, accomplished musicians.

As a result they were easy to train.

He gave them a little bit of training

and they both set sail.

I gravitated towards musicians,

being a musician originally myself.

And I liked the way they thought.

It was music first

and then learn the engineering.

So much cooler if you have musicians

who are engineers.

They get it right away.

"Hey, can you take it back

just two bars?"

They know what two bars is as opposed

to ten seconds or whatever it is.

Ah, just go back a bit.

- Just do it, 'cause that was good.

- Where, where?

I needed a great assistant engineer who

could come in and help me with patching.

I'm recording, this is now edit 12.

Zeppelin were in town to do an amazing

show at the Fillmore East in 1969.

After the show I got asked by Page,

"Hey, we've got a bunch of tapes

that we've been hauling around with us.

Would you like to help us with that?"

I said, "Absolutely, I'd love to."

And I picked A&R Studios.

So in walks this guy,

and he's built like a tank.

He's an ex-Israeli paratrooper,

and he is their chief engineer.

I said, "Hey, Shimon,

I got some problems here.

I need this reverb, I need delay,

I need this, I need that."

Within minutes he had patched me up,

and I thought, "This guy's smart,

I like this guy."

"Hey, Shimon, we're building this studio

for Jimi Hendrix downtown.

Would you be interested

in coming on as chief engineer?"

And I think he looked at me like,

"You must be crazy."

Jimi Hendrix was a very

interesting person when I met him.

He was working

in a different studio with Eddie.

When he came, he was very gentleman

and he'd always say "Hi."

And so and so forth, he was very shy.

Coming from A&R, a beautiful studio

that we built over there,

and here I'm going into a dump,

sorry to say it, it was really bad.

So, it was a little bit strange for me

to start from the beginning.

My wife said, "Take a chance."

And I did.

The challenges were a lot of challenges.

I was a military guy and I said,

"There's nothing that I can't do."

There 's a great' story about console in B

when it was put' in.

You could get to the electronics

with a door in the front,

but the back you couldn't get at.

So he asked one of the carpenters

to put two doors in the back.

The guy took a circular saw

and cut two doors out.

He cut thousands of wires.

He thought he was gonna be more gentle

doing that.

Shimon, apparently

didn't say anything.

He just got his solder and his tools

and crawled into B and stayed there

for a couple of days fixing that.

I'd probably do something like this,

shaka-oo, shaka-oo, shaka-oo,

shaka-boom-ki-doom-doo.

Jimi, for me, I saw the quiet,

shy, extremely polite Jimi,

always very pleasant, very low key,

but knew exactly what he wanted.

He'd come down but he'd often

come down at odd hours.

One day he came in during construction.

All the doors were installed,

these are pricey acoustic doors.

We had windows in them

because we wanted people

not k*ll themselves

when they open the doors.

They were rectangular windows and

he said, "Couldn't we make those round?

Couldn 't we just change

the windows to round?"

We were looking at each other and said,

"Well, yeah, anything can happen."

And eight acoustic doors

disappeared into New York

and they were replaced

with doors that had round windows.

This is how Jimi worked.

The reception was downstairs.

The first thing when John Storyk

made that curve of the wall

outside as you come in,

he made me a window.

I put a camera in there

with a wide angle.

You can see anybody there.

Everybody that came

had to be announced.

There were hundreds of people

that when they found out

that this is Jimi Hendrix's studio

they really wanted to go down.

When they recognized staff people,

they'd buzz them in.

If they didn't recognize you, you'd say,

"Well, who are you here to see?"

And it was,

"Oh, I'm here to see Jimi."

"Well, what's your name?"

He goes, "John Doe."

So, "Hang on."

"No, John Doe ain't gettin' in."

Every once in a while,

the receptionist would call,

"You gotta come and hear this."

Someone would be auditioning.

Someone would be outside going,

" | know you're listening and watching,"

and would be singing and playing guitar

out there in the street.

Electric Lady Studios was private,

that was the one thing

we wanted to make sure.

And this was great,

Jimi felt really safe.

The original club design had

this curved wall that curved onto itself

and ended up going into

this spiral shape in the ceiling.

Most of those ideas

were continued in the studio.

Even though some of those curves

were not the ideal acoustic shapes,

we made them work.

To this day the ceiling

is completely unchanged.

It's like this flat propeller shape.

We used then a home-made version

of air-entrained plaster,

in other words we made plaster a little

bit more absorptive than normal plaster.

Now you can buy this product, then we

had to make it in a home-made fashion.

We knew that we would need

extraordinary isolation

between the main room

and the second studio in the back.

To this day those walls are unchanged,

sand-filled, 12-inch solid masonry walls

that had to sit on footings.

And of course that leads us

to the river under the studio story,

which of course was discovered

when we were digging the footings

for these heavy walls.

We just dug too deep one day

and boom, it exploded.

Underneath the floor of the Studio A

was a tributary of the Minetta River.

What we didn't know was that,

after the main wall separating Studio A

and Studio B was built,

some of the clay pipes had cracked.

The flooding was a very disturbing thing

beoa use Studio A was full of Water.

I walked over and put my foot on it

and I heard squish.

I thought, "We've got problems."

We had to start

almost from the beginning

with a lot of things

because everything was with water.

The whole bloody floor

had to be taken up,

we had to dig down,

repair all the pipes.

So those are the things that happened

to knock us back on our feet.

But, hey, you repair and you go on.

I think he saw it es a home for him

but he was extreme/y frustrated

about the amount of time it took

to build that home.

He wanted to get in the studio

and play

but things like that

don't get built overnight.

A lot of the technology that was

being used at the time was fairly new,

the consoles and that

were being built.

It was a frustration on his part

but I don't think things could have

moved much faster.

This is a complicated studio.

If you were to build that studio today,

the studio would take

six to eight months to build, today.

With seasoned construction veterans,

40 years of studio design knowledge,

go back to 1969, 1970, there is no

studio construction industry.

There are really no books,

there's very few guidelines.

So actually, in the scheme of things,

given the fact that it stopped

and started a few times,

it didn't really happen that slowly.

The construction of Electric Lady

was a nightmare.

We were always running out of money.

Poor Jimi had to go back out

on the road, make some money, come back,

then we could pay the crew, 'cause

we would lay them off for a month,

and that was not the right thing to do

when you're building a studio

of this nature.

I remember once we were really down

and out and I couldn't make a payroll.

I had artists working for me

that were doing trade work,

working as carpenters and masons

and plasterers, and when Friday came,

they were living week to week

so they had to get paid.

I'd have to go over to Max's Kansas City

and ask Mickey Ruskin, who ran it,

to float the cheque of $4,000 or $5,000

to cover the payroll.

And Jimi would have to go do a concert

that Saturday to cover the cheque.

He'd fly back into town Sunday night

with a suitcase full of $100 bills

and say, "OK, cover the cheque."

His background was clubs

so he knew all about cash and money

and how to get things done.

I remember on two different occasions

literally seeing bags of money.

Once when he went out to the LA Forum

and brought back $100,000,

we could work for about four weeks

without a cash-flow problem.

But it was hard.

What originally was gonna be

maybe a $500,000 or $600,000 project

ended up costing a million dollars

in 1970 dollars,

that was a lot of money in those days.

Studio A was gonna be Jimi's studio

and that had to get completed first.

Jimi would call up every two days

or every day,

"Well, can I come over, is it ready?"

And Eddie would go,

"Well, I'll let you know, not quite."

But the anticipation was,

"We're getting close, I can smell it."

Oh, he loved it, he loved the idea.

He was really looking forward to it.

It was to be his living room,

his bedroom, his house.

When it came time for ordering the gear,

I knew exactly what I wanted.

I certainly wanted to expand

the technical horizon

by going 24 tracks of Dolby.

Then it came time for the console.

In 1968 when I was working

at the Record Plant,

I became very familiar with a console

made in New York City.

It was called Data mix.

Data mix to us represented the cutting

edge of recording technology.

The actual slide faders were lit up,

which was quite novel in those days.

I figure a', 0K lknow this board,

it's got a pretty decent sound,

Jimi's familiar with it,

let's go with this guy.

Boy, did we have trouble with that,

'cause the guy who designed the console

was, shall we say, a little 'fugazi'.

The board was still at Data mix.

Eddie Kramer and Jim Marron went almost

every week to look at the console.

And they saw a lot of lights

and they got very excited.

Studio A console looking fantastic,

a great, massive console with

all the modules, it looked beautiful.

What we didn't know,

behind that with a big cloth over it

was the Studio B console.

When I went over there,

I looked underneath the console,

there was nothing there.

He would be taking the modules out

of the B console

and dropping them into the A console

and then hiding it away from us.

So when he finally got shut down

for not paying taxes,

we got word from the Sheriff's Office

this place was gonna be raided.

So eight o'clock on a Friday morning,

we went in and stripped the place bare.

We took every piece of gear.

And Shimon had the job

of re-building Studio B's console.

I learned about Electric Lady

from Eddie Kramer.

It was a chance meeting.

I worked at Gotham Recording

and he was on his way to Gotham Audio

and we actually met in the elevator.

The elevator doors opened and this

very beautiful lady got on the elevator.

Dark hair, very good looking and nodded.

She got off at another floor.

He stopped me and he said,

"I'm looking for you."

I'm like, "Why?"

He said, "Well, I'm building a studio

with Jimi Hendrix."

And I was like,

"Yeah right, another nut job, no."

We talked and he wanted to set up

an interview for me to see Jim Marron

about being studio manager.

That's how it all started.

I thought, "It would be really cool

if you have another lady

running Electric Lady.

Why not Electric Lady

have a great lady studio manager?"

Linda was great, she was the

Electric Lady, she did all the bookings.

Yeah, she kept everybody happy,

and it was a thankless job.

The building was still going on,

so it wasn't even nearly completed.

In the beginning

this was totally creative chaos.

They split the second floor in half.

Half of the floor

was Electric Lady offices,

the other half was Michael Jeffery's,

Jimi Hendrix's offices.

Michael Jeffery is being Jimi's manager,

he had Bob Levin as his assistant.

Upstairs in their offices, it's now...

we have an administrative wing upstairs

and then the engineering

and the creative stuff downstairs.

I think Michael did see it as a way

to not only grow

his own management business

and so that he would

establish himself even more,

but also for Jimi to have a home.

It would attract people

because it was Jimi's studio.

It really did make a difference.

Building Electric Lady

was a real challenge.

To bring those forces together

was a very difficult task.

Michael and Jimi

had their own difficulties with it.

Jim Marron was really taking care

of business during that time

and did it, as I recall,

with a very light touch.

There's a lot of franticness going on

between them both

because remember Michael was also

looking at "Rainbow Bridge"

in those days

and it drained him.

The studio, again,

was a great difficulty to finance

for Michael as well as Jimi.

They both wanted to experiment

and go out in other directions,

and at the same time they wanted their

cake in New York and be able to eat it.

It was frantic

trying to raise the capital

while they were experimenting

in these various directions.

Jim Marron was the balance

between the top floor,

with all of the craziness going on

with Michael Jeffery

and the bands that he was doing,

and the downstairs, which was

all technical and music and all of that.

He definitely kept Michael Jeffery

out of our hair.

Michael is a strange guy,

and not too many people like him.

I loved him because he wanted

to do things, do this, do that, do this.

There was always a distance

between myself and Michael Jeffery.

We just never really hit it off.

I always felt he was very cold,

very calculating.

He was a very astute business person

and very smart.

On the other hand, he could be ruthless

and sometimes very ugly.

Michael used to ask me,

"Do we really need them,

Jim Marron and Eddie Kramer?"

He was telling me.

And I said,

"Michael, what are you saying?"

He was always not trusting,

that's what he was.

Looking back on it now,

it's almost funny.

It was just almost

like cartoon-like at times.

Michael doing his thing,

you know, management.

It was Jim trying to juggle

personalities.

Shimon in the back

trying to get the equipment done.

It was very hard because,

don't forget, I came into the studio

and all of a sudden we had a pause

because of the money.

All of the employees were gone

and I was the only one in there.

Late in '69,

we just hit a wall financially

and the place just shut down.

There was nothing going on

and Jeffery just had to figure out

what his next move was.

When we finally got tapped out

of the finances

and we had to shut down

the building operation in '69.

Things were looking pretty grim.

I was trying to figure out

a way to complete this project

'cause I wasn't gonna be deterred

by just a thing like money.

We came up with a scheme

to borrow against Jimi's royalties

from Warner Bros.

He borrows against the future earnings

of Jimi's royalties

and we're off to the races.

All right, well, if Kim can go upstairs

to the second floor, in the box,

there's a mic cable in a separate box,

and bring me an 86 and an 87.

We had just gotten

a Yamaha grand piano in the studio.

Eddie, unbeknownst to me,

Eddie plays piano.

It was one evening, and I was there,

and I think this was the first time

that we were gonna put tape

on the machine, push the red button,

the red lights were gonna come on,

and Eddie was gonna play something

on the piano.

We were thrilled

when we first opened up the mics

and listened to the piano

for the first time,

the first recording session

for Electric Lady.

I think Eddie at some point

had talked to Jimi.

And Jim, "Well, is it ready?

Can I come now?"

Eddie said something like,

"The piano played back, it's ready."

So...

In the beginning,

Jimi and I were auditioning the tapes

that were in the tape library

in the hallway, Jimi's tape closet.

We would bring it in, listen to it,

catalogue it, figure it out,

and Jimi would figure,

"OK, this tape, not that one.

We need to work on this song."

Then we would pick through them

and start to assemble the record,

which was gonna be a double album.

This was Jimi's focus,

was this record that he had in his head.

He wanted to pursue that.

I think the interruptions were,

"Oh, I gotta go out on the road.

I gotta go to this gig or that gig."

In order to keep funding

what was happening at Electric Lady.

I think building that studio, he thought

would give him an incredible freedom

to be able to create as much music as

he wanted to create, which was enormous.

He just had music all the time.

And to have that energy,

which was the business energy,

it was not the creative energy,

that was not always harmonious.

I think the business part of it

was the root cause.

He just wanted to play his music.

Then there were too many contracts,

there was too many deals to be made,

and he was the golden goose.

I think there was always

this constant feeling of,

"OK, well,

we have this amount of material,

and it's owed,

and there is a pressure to deliver."

There was a ton of work to be done.

What an incredible track,

it's "Freedom".

We've got all the cool sounds.

Check this out,

for instance, on the drums and bass.

That's Jimi on piano.

The guy's such an amazing musician,

and he's using these...

I used to show him a couple of chords,

and that's like a modification

of one of the chords I used to show him.

I used it on "Crosstown Traffic",

that augmented 9th chord.

Jimi's attacking that piano.

I would be fooling around

in the studio sometime,

you know how I used to get in there and

jam around and stuff and play chords.

He'd say, "Hey, man, I love

those chords, you play on the track."

I'd say, "No, no, no,

I'll show you the chords, you play it."

"Oh, OK."

Well, plus the fact that this was

a Yamaha grand piano.

A nine-foot concert grand,

one of the best.

It was amazing for rock 'n roll

because it cuts through the track.

All the time.

Now, what's really cool about this is,

if you isolate what Mitch is doing.

He's evolved his style

and there 's a definite change

in his approach f0 drumming.

'Cause you can hear the R&B influence

coming out a lot more,

he's probably figured out,

"OK, well, Buddy Miles did that,

but I'm gonna do this."

See, what he's doing

with the bass drum right there

is something that these days

a keyboard player

- would play on a drum machine.

- Right.

But a live drummer

necessarily doesn't have the stability

to play what Mitch is playing

right there.

When the studio first was running

and Jimi would come in,

a lot of that time was spent

writing as we go.

Jimi would have some ideas

for some songs

but he didn't really have them

officially set up.

Where's this from?

The last...

Ta-da-ta-ta-ta...

/ know, but' we 're doing that biz',

We just' did I! again.

We're not doing anything again,

we're just only doing that

ta-da-ta-ta...

The plan of the studio was, here's

a creative space where we can come in

and we can just jam it out for a while

and see how it goes

as opposed to just hearing it

in your head as you're writing it.

He could get the guys together

and actually create,

and then, two minutes into the thing,

he'd say,

"Oh, stop, wait a minute, no, that's not

working, let's try this."

But he did have what he wanted

in his head,

it's just that now

he had the opportunity

to actually hear it live, real time.

For a man like Jimi Hendrix,

that was a creative artist',

he had to have a place

like Electric Lady Studio.

So it became his and our laboratory.

Before we knew it,

we were creating songs

and building songs

and really moving along.

After a short period of time

we had a lot of stuff.

The use of unison.

You can hear how Jimi

has shown Billy,

"OK, this is the part

I want you to play."

Then Billy has

added his own stuff to it.

There's an extra couple of

notes at the end of the phrase

I'm sure Billy put in on his own.

- On his own, yeah.

- And it works.

Eddie every once in a while

would just get on the talk back and say,

"Look, guys, this is meandering."

Do you wanna pick it up

and do an edit, Jimi?

And he'd say to Jimi,

"Jimi, you got another angle on this.

That other angle

that you were playing before.

Man, you should try that,

go back to that."

- Let's just try it one more time, OK?

- One more time?

We had it on tape,

so we could roll the tape back and play.

Jimi, he'd have so many ideas going on

and he'd go,

"Oh yeah, that one, that lick."

It was interesting that your ideas were

also being recorded for later look-back.

And that was kinda cool.

How did you feel when they actually...

- Proud as hell.

- ...when you said, "That's the take?"

Just being in the studio,

getting excited, watching him play

and watching him smile,

I'm thinking to myself, "Damn,

it doesn't get much better than this!"

- This is what it's all about.

- It is what it was all about.

Ghetto fighters.

Now, Jimi is actually in the studio

singing in there as a blend,

as a part of that and

there's that lock again.

But the sound of Jimi's voice with them

is a perfect fit.

That's a song for today, isn't there?

There were times when Jimi

would be doing guitar overdubs

against a track that was already cut.

Jimi asked Eddie one time, he says,

"Can I come and sit in the control room?

Can I get a long guitar cord

and come and sit in the control room

to hear what it actually sounds like

coming out of the speakers as I play?"

I don't know

that a lot of people did that.

What we did later on was we installed

a special jack in the control room.

And it was just known as "Jimi's jack".

That was unique, that was kind of cool.

Eddie was never afraid of

anything new and neither was Jimi.

Solo.

So that solo is a nice ripping one.

Jimi was so excited.

There's a live vocal performance,

and from the performance

on the floor he's going, "Yeah!"

Because he knows

the track is going great.

He commands the whole track.

Rhythm, lyrics, vocal performance,

"What's the band doing?"

It's all locked.

I recall the day before, Jimi had played

another solo that knocked us all out

and we thought, "That's it."

So we all went home, Jimi came back

the next day and said, "Eddie...

"Put that up."

Put that up one more time,

I got an idea for another solo."

You encouraged him to do that,

but I think also you were saying,

"We're gonna hold the solo

from yesterday, we're not losing..."

- Just in case.

- "We're not losing that one."

And it turned out

this solo that we're hearing now...

- Is the better one, because he knew.

- ...is the better one.

- And it was the next day.

- Absolutely.

Inevitably, there' | | be this thing,

"You know, I think I can do that,

I know I can do it better,

I know I can do it better."

We'd have to find

a track and maybe ditch one.

And, "Which one do I lose?"

- That was you and J/m/ doing this.

- Doing that, yeah.

And, trust me, I was in the room

sitting in the back observing.

You're getting me embarrassed now, so...

- Finally.

- Finally.

There was a sense of achievement

with Electric Lady Studios.

He was very proud of it.

He gave some ideas

for the decors in there,

and some people said,

"OK, we'll try this, we'll try that."

It worked out great.

He was always proud of it,

always bragged about it.

He'd let me know,

"Now, before you come in here,

it's not complete, it's not finished,

they're still working on it."

That was it, he apologized somewhat,

because it was still in progress.

That day when I was there,

they had some partitioned off

where there was work going on.

He said, "You're gonna like it."

And I did.

When Jimi would show the place

to other musicians there was pride.

You could see.

He'd bring in Steve Winwood or whoever

and he'd just open up

the door and let them go in.

He'd just stand there,

give it a minute to soak in,

and then he'd start pointing out,

"Well, here's the lightings,

and here's the round windows."

There was a time when it was only big

corporations that had recording studios,

and then suddenly there came a time

when either musicians

would buy into the recording studio

or they'd actually buy

the equipment themselves

and have it set up

in a space of their own.

That laid the path

for a different sort of recording,

to try things out, and to jam,

to jusz' make accidents happen,

and with the tape rolling

and try and develop those.

It was something

that we all wanted to do

was to have this equipment on hand,

so that if at 2 o'clock in the morning

we felt like playing,

it was just a question

of hitting a button

and hopefully

everything went down onto the tape.

The address of Electric Lady Studios

was 52 West 8th Street.

I was at 49 West 8th Street.

I loved the fact that it was

right across the street from the studio.

At midnight, the phone rings

and I'm just going to bed.

It's Eddie, and Eddie says,

"Come on over here."

I said, "Eddie, I've been working

all day and I gotta, I gotta..."

"Palmer, get your a*s down here!"

He says, "Jimi's here with

Steve Winwood and they need a drummer."

"Hendrix needs...

We need some drums."

And he goes, " | f you wanna come

to work tomorrow,

you'd better come over here tonight."

"OK, man, I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes, sir!"

He would come

tail-as sing across the street.

He rued the day that

he lived across the street.

That's not the thing

to do when you're an engineer.

That was either the goodwill

or the curse

of living across the street

from Electric Lady Studios.

I was just so entrenched

in trying to make it work

that I didn't really have any doubts,

because the reputation the studio

would build, not only for the sound

once people used it, but because again,

it was Jimi's studio.

So, this is a track that originally

was cut as a demo in England in '67.

It was nice, it was great.

A lot of the ideas

were established at that point.

But when we got to Electric Lady in 1970

and the idea of this song came up again,

a great idea to re-cut it.

Jimi saw in Eddie

that Eddie cared about Jimi's music.

Eddie ween '2' afraid

e very once in a while to give a lift/e,

"That's really good but, you know what,

that thing you did before, try that."

Eddie would suggest,

and Jimi would go right along with it

because Jimi understood

that Eddie was paying attention,

that Eddie was a creative person,

and that Eddie cared about Jimi.

I'm in the back but

I'm watching you at the board,

and I'm watching Jimi out in the studio.

He said, " | t's gonna

be like this from now on."

It is.

What's going on here,

you can hear Billy playing.

Of course Mitch is setting off canons

there and then you've got this lovely...

Doo-doo-doo-do

Apparently Jimi loved

Billy's playing too, specially...

Very much so.

I think he relied on Billy because

Billy was such a solid character,

and he could rely on him to play

in time, locked up with him.

Well, not just a solid character

but his musicianship was solid.

Yeah, exactly.

And I think Jimi felt good

about being able to rely on that.

It was our workshop, it was our passion.

Not only our hobby,

but it was our living too.

It was great just hanging out

and being who we were, musicians.

It was a naturally free, creative

exercise, because Jimi was the leader.

You see, we weren't in a group where

you say, "We don't like that leader..."

Jimi was the leader

and we respected him.

We respected him, we loved him,

and we were a part of

the Jimi Hendrix Experience,

'cause it was his experience.

We enjoyed that,

and we were very supportive.

Jimi would come in

to listen to a playback.

He would sit in the chair,

Eddie would slide over

and let Jimi come

and sit at the console too.

He would encourage Jimi to, "A | | right,

move the faders around a little bit.

You wanna hear more echo on the guitar,

or you Want more bass ?

Jimi got into that and he liked that,

because now he's really controlling

his music.

Eddie let him do that because Eddie knew

that Jimi knew what he wanted to hear.

I thought that was really nice.

You saw that happening live

and you'd go,

"There's two guys that trust each other

and there's two guys

that understand each other

and care about each other,

creatively and musically."

- Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

- What's up?

- You think that's gonna work, though?

- That's sounding out of sight.

- Uh-oh.

- Uh-oh.

Don't get carried away, Hendrix.

In terms of how big the operation

was and the number of people involved,

I was shocked when I came to work there

about how few people were on the scene,

doing the job

of a major recording studio.

In 1970, when the studio was hitting

its baby steps,

starting to walk, standing up,

the staff was relatively small.

There was Eddie, Kim King,

it was me, who was the baby of them all,

but I was rapidly working my way up

to being full second engineer.

The staffing at Electric Lady

became a big issue

because we were running

ourselves ragged, 18, 20-hour days.

"Guys, we need staff,

let's go, let me audition them."

But we need a couple more people

to assist Eddie,

who basically was running the boat.

No matter what was going on,

Eddie was sitting in the big chair.

In the next wave of engineers

that we hired,

there was one in particular

who I really took to,

was a guy named John Jansen.

I lived in SoHo,

which was near the Village.

I got to be friendly

with a receptionist there,

and I was there a lot

before I was hired.

Apparently I came in

one time and she said,

"Eddie just fired somebody,

he'll give you an interview."

S0 I got the interview

and he gave me the job.

That's how I started working there.

My feeling was it was Jimi's place and

for rent, there was a business as well.

Jim's main concern was to make sure we

had enough bookings to make the payroll.

Yeah, I remember we did an early session

with Led Zeppelin

and we mixed a couple of tracks.

They loved the place

and they kept coming back.

It was definitely

that we were like a family

trying to do something for a star.

We helped each other, whatever it is.

Financially, especially in

the beginning, it was really difficult.

We held our breath sometimes

from week to week,

until we could get better flow,

cash flow.

We did a very strange session once,

actually, it was "The Joy of Sex".

There was a narrator

reading excerpts from the book.

Simultaneously they were

doing a string and horn session.

That was weird, that was strange,

'cause the producer would stop and go,

"OK, let's back up, let's take it

from bar 32 at masturbation."

It was kind of a surreal session.

I don't know how many that sold.

It was a double-edged sword

because on one hand, it was

Jimi's studio but it had to make money.

The original idea was that Studio B

would be for outside, other clients,

but Studio A was mainly Jimi's room.

But, what happened was the studio

started to get really popular.

Once that was happening,

I was working 16, 17, 18 hours a day,

'cause I'd be working with Jimi

from 07:00 pm till three, four, five

in the morning.

Sometimes I'd get four hours sleep

and come back in and

work the rest of the day.

So it was tough in the beginning.

We had a sort of understanding

that Jimi only worked weekends.

He didn't work during the week.

I think the weekend thing

was good for him.

It was good to be in the studio,

yes, but not seven days a week,

because he didn't get

a chance to play other than in a studio.

Jimi just wasn't a great guitar player,

Jimi was one of those rare occasions

when he was a great guitar player in

the studio and an entertainer on stage.

So, he needed to get on stage sometimes.

We did work a lot in the studio

during the week.

On the weekends

we were out touring and having fun.

We cou/dn '1' waif to get back.

I think Electric Lady meant

something very special to us.

I think Jimi was really frustrated

with the fact that he had to have

his gear taken down then put up again.

He said, "Well, why?

This is my studio."

"But, Jimi, we're trying to make money,

we're trying to keep the place going."

But if he had his way, it would

have been, "Just leave my sh*t in here.

I just wanna leave it

so that nobody touches it

and I can just

record whenever I want to."

There'd be times when Jimi just said,

"I need a break,

I'm not coming in these two days."

Well, then the studio is sitting there.

So we opened up Studio A for some select

clients to come in and do some recording

when Jimi was out of town

or doing something else.

However, I remember Jimi

coming into the studio at 07:00 pm

and we weren't finished

a session that we were doing.

He would stand in the corner

in the doorway,

and he would stand there like this

and just go...

and watch what was going on.

I'll always remember this.

If there was a lady in the control room

who was walking around

and didn't have a chair,

Jimi would find

a chair and bring it over for her.

I thought that was

so cool that he would do that.

Other clients, they would

wanna come to Electric Lady and record.

It was a badge of honor, it was,

" | recorded at Jimi Hendrix's studio."

One of the first artists working

there with Eddie was Carly Simon.

Eddie and I worked on her first album,

"That's The Way I've Always Heard

It Should Be."

Jimi had to go to Hawaii,

he had shows there

and he had some work

to do with Michael Jeffery

and go to Maui and maybe make a movie.

So all of a sudden,

we had a window of a couple of weeks,

and we could book in a new client.

She was so happy to work

with someone of Eddie's caliber.

In fact, they wrote together too.

A different vibe entirely in the studio.

Carly and I put our heads together

on that one

to find session musicians in New York,

figure out who are the right folks

to make this sound that she is hearing.

And we started cutting.

I think we got pretty much

the whole album tracked in about a week.

This is a track that we all really

got into and it's called "Dolly Dagger".

Absolutely.

This track was

created on the floor of Studio A.

It's a point where Jimi

has total creative control.

Yeah, that's definitely

the Ghetto Fighters

helping out Jimi on the backgrounds.

...Donut boys

- I'II tell you what, hey, Kim...

-Yeah.

A little address to our friend here.

If Jimi said,

" | wanna do something tonight,"

and if he asked for me, he'd get me.

Dave Palmer was the drummer,

so he was more involved in tracking.

Right.

I was the guitar player and I was

more involved in the guitar overdubs.

'Cause your punches are really fast.

It would allow me the flexibility

to be in control of the board

and have you just go

punch, punch, punch, for Jimi,

because he liked the fact that

you were pretty fast with the punches.

And I liked the fact that

he was fast with the punches.

If I missed one, I was fired.

- Yes, and you got fired.

- Multiple times.

Everybody got fired every day,

but that's OK.

The guitar solo on this, on the solos,

we'd take all of the gobos out,

Jimi's Marshall would be over there

near the drums

and we'd put a room mic up 50 feet away

because we had that space in Studio A.

- Exactly.

- And this huge liveness...

The studio actually

was split into two sections.

It was on the diagonal.

This side of the diagonal was carpet

and the other side was wood.

We could open up all the gobos,

the screens that separated the two,

because we wanted

to keep the sound contained.

But for the solo, we' d open up all the

screens and let his Marshall just rip,

and put mics 20-30 feet away,

as Kim was saying.

That's what you're hearing

is that lovely room sound in there.

Yes, there was a lot of competition

between what we were trying to do

in the control room

and what was going on

in the management department.

After months of building the studio,

you had to deliver.

- It was a lot of money spent.

- Yeah.

I think it was a million dollars.

"Hey guys, how much more time do we have

before we have a finished album?"

We were certainly under pressure

to get something deliverable,

at least that sounded finished.

I believe this was the first

completed track that we did.

I remember we did a mix on it

in time for the opening party

and a couple of other tunes

that we just kept playing

over and over at the party.

It's like, "Well, OK,

just check this out, see what we've got,

and then leave us alone

so we can do the rest."

- We can go back to work.

- Yeah.

When we mixed the four songs

before he went to England

for "The Cry Of Love"

that was the time when I think

we had the most fun,

and I saw that smile on his face.

I think there was a bond there.

He knew exactly

what we were trying to get for him.

This was a magical place

and he was proud to be there.

In August, when both studios,

A and B were finally wired,

we were gonna have a press party for

the opening of Electric Lady Studios.

The New York Times, Billboard

and everybody was invited to come.

The party was planned to be a splash,

it was good PR.

It was saying, "Yes, here we are,

we are a firmly established studio.

Come.

Come and record."

I think the idea of the party was

"Jimi's going away to England.

Let's have a nice big party,

we're gonna invite some local artists."

Jimi's very shy, he doesn't wanna have

too many people around there.

We had a hard time getting him

to the party, he was notoriously shy.

I said, "Jimi, I'm breaking my ba*ls

building this place,

you gotta come to the party.

Can't have an opening party for Jimi

Hendrix's studio without Jimi Hendrix.

What do you want to get there?"

He said, "Well, if you get me

a police escort to the airport."

I knew a lieutenant

in the Village Police Department.

He said, "No problem,

two motorcycles, yeah, I'll arrange it."

That's why he came to the party.

I think it was Eddie who suggested

that the catering be Japanese food.

I seem to remember a whole ton

of Japanese food

appearing at the bottom end

of the studio.

I liked it, I thought it was cool,

I was totally into the Japanese food.

The drum booth in Studio A

became the bar.

It was like a home,

that we were throwing a little party,

and it just happened

to be a recording studio.

You know how you drink sake

out of these little sippy cups?

No, no, they had cases and cases

of magnum-sized sake

and we were drinking them

out of these red plastic party cups.

Patti Smith was sitting on the stairs

coming down to the studio.

Jimi was sitting next to her

talking to her,

as she writes about it in her book.

There was the most wonderful

conversation that she had with him,

'cause he was very personable.

You could put a tape on the two-track

and play music in Studio B,

so when people would walk down the hall

and they'd come to Studio B,

they'd go, "Oh, yeah, music."

Pretty much towards 01:00 am,

I think Jim Marron and Eddie

both came up to me and they said,

"De ve, here is a set' 0f keys, We Wen!

you I0 lock up bause We 're going home-

So I locked up.

I came to work the next day,

or a Monday, "Here's your keys back."

And Jim Marron said,

"Well, here's your keys,"

and he gave me a set of keys.

That was the moment right then that

I knew I had become part of the family.

Not just the guy

that lived across the street,

but actually part of the family.

It was after the studio party

and he was going to London

the next day,

and we were supposed to go with him

but I just couldn't leave.

He invited us

and my Green Card had expired

and I just couldn't get out

of the country.

Hello, how're you doing, England?

Glad to see you.

We'll do a thing called "Freedom".

Jimi was in Europe, he was working,

"Cw Of Love" was midway.

Even though much of it

had been completed,

it still wasn't ready for prime time.

So there was work remaining to be done

and everybody's waiting for him

to return and get back to work on it.

It was in the middle of all

these recordings, all these great songs,

and everybody's really excited about it.

While Jimi was away,

Dave Palmer was starting to do sessions

on his own, so was Kim King.

So, there was a great excitement.

Most people were talking about when

Jimi is coming back and resumes working.

There was great anticipation for that,

certainly from Eddie,

and, I guess, everybody else involved.

Thank you for being so patient and maybe

one of these days we'll join again.

I really hope so.

All right, thank you very much.

And peace and happiness

and all the good sh*t.

Jimi, you've just come from

the Isle of Wight

which is another

of these large festivals.

Did you enjoy that?

Well, I enjoy playing anywhere.

But it was dark, we were playing at

night time, we couldn't see everybody.

If I could see the people,

if there was lines of bonfires,

that's the only way I could tell

there was a hill back there.

How do you feel about playing for,

say, 400,000 people?

That's what I mean, it's too big.

You're not getting through

to all of them,

and the idea to play to them,

to try to turn them on or something.

We were all in a train going to Fehmarn

and found out that

there was no hotel for us.

Then when we got to the hotel,

there was no one to check us in,

because, apparently,

the hotel had not been paid.

So their way of dealing with it

was just to pull all the staff.

So there was a hotel

and there were rooms

but you didn't check in.

You just went and found a room

and hoped there was nobody in it.

As soon as we got there

and got out of the transportation,

we heard,

"Go home, Americans, go home."

I don't give a f*ck if you boo,

so long as you boo in key.

Do you love them?

There was a lot of controversy at that

time and a lot of things were happening.

But to show the true artist in Jimi,

they were still saying, "Go home,"

we hit the stage,

after that first number, it got quiet.

The people really appreciated it.

They realized why we were there and

what Jimi was all about, a true artist.

And then when we got there,

the word was that the promoter

had been machine-gunned.

He'd brought in some German Hell's

Angels to do security la Altamont,

and pretty much the same thing happened

that happened at the Altamont.

But they machine-gunned him

and we got out of there.

We spent the first few days

back in London

unpacking the trucks and coiling cable,

because we literally backed the trucks

up to the stage and threw sh*t in,

just handfuls of cable,

because we were scared for our lives.

It was after Fehmarn,

when we went back to London

to try and sort things out.

That was the last we saw him.

The only thing that I do remember

is the last conversation.

He called up, in fact,

the phone was ringing on the console,

there was a red phone on the console.

It was Jimi, he was in London.

This is after we'd mixed these tracks,

he went to London, he did his gigs.

He said, "Hey, man,

can you bring the tapes over?

Can you send them over?

Can we start working over here?"

And I said, "Jimi, we just built

a million-dollar studio

and you're happy with it here."

He said, "Yeah, you're right, OK.

Don't worry about it,

I'll see you next week."

That was the last time

I ever spoke to him.

He talked about what he was doing in

the studio, which is something for him

and I go back to a thing that he had me

do just before he died, the day before.

He said, " | wanna get back in the

studio and finish some of that stuff.

So book us back to America

as soon as we can."

He was interested

in what he was doing in the studio

and he wanted to finish what he...

He felt he was on a roll.

And he said,

"Book me out as quick as you can."

He died the next day.

So I can't think anything else

than he was enjoying

what he was writing at the time.

And I know that he mentioned to me

that he felt he was writing again.

I got a phone call from Gerry Stickells

about 07:00 am saying,

"Don't talk to the press,

go some place and get lost.

Jimi's dead."

We'll sort this all out later

but don't talk to the press."

But a phone call came in.

Just general disbelief.

And person to person,

it wasn't a group meeting.

It was like playing telephone.

When the office called they said,

"Are you standing or sitting?"

I said, "I'm standing."

He says, "Sit down."

Then they said,

"Well, Jimi passed this morning."

I slammed the phone down,

I thought it was a joke.

Then they called back again

and they said, "No, but it's real."

I went downstairs to open up the mail

and in there was my Green Card.

I was so happy, " | got my Green Card!"

Went down to Electric Lady,

walked downstairs.

I'm looking about,

"Hey, what's going on?"

There was people crying and stuff,

then they said, "What?

You haven't heard?"

- "No, what's going on?"

- He said, "Jimi died."

Oh, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Talking about Jimi's passing

is really difficult.

It was horrifying, it was horrifying.

I think everybody

was very shell-shocked.

The look at the future

wasn't the primary thought.

The primary thought was almost chaos.

The rug had been yanked out so firmly

that there was a really

chaotic emotional response to it.

With the passing of Mr. Hendrix,

there was a big concern about,

"Well, what's gonna happen

to Electric Lady Studios?"

In terms of Michael's presence

and involvement in the studio itself

immediately after Jimi died,

he wasn't trying

to bring people together,

hold their hands, keep them psychically

and emotionally intact.

He really wasn't.

I think he was in shock himself

probably, looking back.

But he wasn't there

being kind or gentler,

trying to ease people's minds.

But he also wasn't there

protecting the closets,

looking back on it, how come

he didn't sit the gopher by the closet,

with a club on his lap and stop people

from going into the closet?

Somebody really should have done that.

We were in the middle of doing

the "Cry Of Love" album.

$0 i2' was a good feeling

when people would come in.

There was respect.

It's like you were stepping

into Studio A,

"Hey, this is where Jimi worked,

this is Jimi's room."

And on some people you could see

they stopped and they took a minute.

After Jimi died, it was very tough

for me to get back in the studio

and look at all the tapes

and all of that.

There was a lot of pressure from Michael

and Warner Bros. and everybody else,

"You've gotta get another album out.

You have to finish this,

you have to do that."

Michael's attitude after Jimi,

I think he was looking at,

"Where can I go from here?"

He obviously had no one in his roster

the caliber of Jimi.

But you could tell he needed the studio

to continue and to make money.

I think he was banking on the fact

that we could keep it rolling,

without falling flat on our face.

In terms of continuity

or stability during that time

with people wondering, "What's next?"

Even financially, just in terms of jobs,

Kramer played an enormous role in that

and put such a focus on ongoing,

high-quality recording of people.

There are various albums going on.

There was an ongoing sense of everybody,

"Let's just get her done, go to work,"

and Kramer led that charge.

After Jimi's passing, I think the studio

took on another life of its own.

We were well-established

but we still had to make a payroll,

we still had to make sure

that we could continue on.

People still were coming,

they were calling for bookings.

So there was still a life after.

The reality was it was still

Jimi's studio, and with the quality,

I felt fairly confident

that we could sustain ourselves.

The beginning of our more commercial

success, like having Carly Simon here.

Carly was sent here by Electra.

She had a big success

with that first album

and it always helped

to get a credit on an album,

whether it was one song

or the entire album,

"Mixed at", "Recorded at",

"Produced by",

anything that would link people here.

There was a gentleman

by the name 0f Al Brown

who booked a l0!

of the string sessions here.

He loved it,

the string players loved it,

because Studio A

could accommodate 50 people.

They would come in and set up,

and the sound was just...

I remember AI was so happy

he could record.

And in fact he brought Lena Home here.

It was wonderful to have

someone of her caliber here.

That's how we started,

it was trying to get the word out.

I think Electra and Atlantic

were thrilled with the studio

because they heard what we do.

They would hear you couldn't go wrong.

I mean, you're gonna have a sound

that was spectacular.

Stevie Wonder came to the studio through

two guys with this electronic music.

And Stevie loved it.

Stevie loved it so much

because they came in with something new.

Bob Margouleff and Malcolm Cecil, they

were doing things that nobody else did.

Stevie was able to walk

into that space with us

and we had a ready-made set of shoes.

We did some walking in that studio,

for sure.

We did a lot of "Innervisions" there,

and we cooked up the album cover

for "Innervisions".

Danny Blumenau

actually designed the cover with me.

We made a lot of music in that place.

When Stevie Wonder recorded here,

he had a definite idea

0f how he Wanted things to work.

He did not want us to store his tapes

in the lockers that we had.

So he brought a trunk, and he had

his own lock for it, and that was fine.

He was gracious to the staff.

And when he recorded "Superstition".

I remember him being in the studio

wanting to make some changes,

I think with the horns.

What he would do is he'd go in

and he would sing them the line,

and then they would just play it.

And of course having Stevie Wonder here

was another A+ for the studio.

The buzz was out, the word was out.

People heard, they loved it

and they wanted to be here.

He was proud when somebody came in.

Yeah, he was, because it's his studio,

it's his idea.

Jimi's presence was there,

you could feel his hand on that place.

The place was seen

by the people working there

and obviously

by the rest of the industry,

as a leader in the industry.

The feeling daily there

was "We're at ground zero."

When Jimi was here, I think he felt

very safe and very protected

and knew that he could be

as creative as he wanted

and he got the support that he needed.

The sound of Studio A, just...

I can hear the drum sound in my head.

I think his ghost is still there.

When you turn the lights down low,

it's scary in there

because Jimi's walking around saying,

"Hey, not that beat, this beat."