STUDIO TIME

Although Woodstock opened up a whole new world to Lance, just hanging out at the studio was trippy enough for him.

Daylight hours were spent warming up to working on the mural; developing new ideas, motivating himself. Nobody in the loft actually got up until noon, which was when Holy Moses split for Electric Lady. Thank goodness, Lance never could get anything done when the boys were around. They were starting fires right and left, especially in the evening when they geared up. That's usually when the chaos began. As soon as the band left, Lance was able to concentrate on matters at hand.

After putting in four or five hours of work, Lance would take a break and show up at the studio just when the staff was calling it a day. Those moments were too special to miss, especially when musicians were in town to record. The clock would strike five and associates, roadies, engineers, friends, and the recording artists would congregate in the upstairs lounge area centered between Michael Jeffery’s office and the cubies.

When Lance heard that The Ghetto Fighters recorded at the studio on a regular basis, he initially imagined gang bangers. He didn’t know that the twin brothers, TaharQa and Tunde R Aleem had recorded on three of Jimi's albums, "Cry of Love," "Rainbow Bridge," and "War Heroes." He also wasn’t aware that they had worked with Sam Cook, Sam & Dave, and Otis Redding, just to name a few, or that they were the founders of the Harlem World Club, a precursor to rap.

Listening to them play, Lance saw that they were two unbelievably talented and deeply evolved musicians trying to overcome the repression of the ghetto.

Standing around and feeling a part of the loose-knit group of fifteen or so, someone would sing a few chords of a classic song from the past and the rest would spontaneously go into riffs. They were so steeped in the culture of Harlem, it was a high point of hanging out at the studio.

There were a number of musicians coming in and out of Electric Lady. Lance heard about a young woman that had an outrageous talent. The studio was trying hard to get her in to record, but getting her organized and in the booth on time was next to impossible.

This was no isolated issue. There were so many talented young performers who stood out on street corners, harmonizing in the middle of the cold winter nights in New York. Knowing they could easily make it in the entertainment business and getting them focused were two entirely different matters. It just wasn’t going to happen.

People went on and on about this one particular young woman who was A.D.D. and high strung, but a huge talent. They actually got her in once, but to keep her entertained while the recording process ran on, her manager had to sprinkle fairy dust all over the studio. The fairy dust was actually metallic flake, which was not good at all for the recording equipment. It took days to get everything cleaned up and back in tip-top shape.

One afternoon, Lance was hanging out as usual, and Carly Simon came in to make some last minute changes on her first self-named album. For some reason, Lance thought this was the young woman with the fairy dust. He sat and watched her cavort around the studio with her entourage in tow. Most musicians that came in to record, no matter what level, would stop and talk with everyone. It was a very social scene. But not Carly. She made a beeline for the booth, recorded, and was out of there. If she did speak to anyone, it was to her surrounding flock.

The Third World, a reggae band before reggae was popular, came in the studio when Lance was in New York, and recorded "America The Beautiful." Their music definitely had an island influence, but it wasn’t totally ethnic.

Definitely part of the social scene, the band members saw a painting of Lance’s, depicting a woman embracing the universe. They loved it so much they wanted to use it for their album cover. Even though Lance and the band went to the RCA office together to show the big cheese his work, a couple of weeks later the album came out with a cover showing the American Flag burning. It had nothing to do with his work.

Over time, it got to the point where Lance felt very comfortable walking into the studio in the observing area to watch the musicians record. Someone would say so and so was recording in Studio “B,” and Lance would go in and listen. No problem.

A frequent visitor at the studio was Devon Wilson. Originally from Milwaukee, Devon was a prostitute in Vegas when she was just fifteen years old. After she moved to New York City, she hooked up with rock legends like Mick Jagger and Brian Jones of the Stones, Eric Clapton, Duane Allman, Traffic, and Jimi Hendrix.

Slender, around 5’9”, with a long afro, she wasn’t particularly memorable looking. It wasn’t like, “Wow!” when you saw her, but Devon was Jimi’s on-again/off-again girlfriend and his personal assistant. Jimi’s song, Dolly Dagger is all about her.

Devon would show up at the studio quite often, reviewing tapes of tracks that Jimi had laid down. The vaults in the walls of the studio were filled with stacks of reels of Jimi’s music. She, Michael Jeffery, and Senior Engineer, Eddie Kramer sorted through the tracks and out of it came the "Cry of Love" album.

It always felt uneasy when Devon was in the studio. Lance asked someone once why they let her in if it just made everyone nervous, and they said that Devon was really good at blackmailing people. It was easier to just work with her.

The roadies hung out at the studio as well; specifically Gerry Stickells and Eric Barrett. Both Gerry and Eric were big guys with British accents, and a lot of fun. The electrical engineer and one of the founding techs, Shimon Ron had been an Israeli commando. At least that’s what he told Lance. He had an interesting edge to him. He was kind of like a green beret, only more intense.

Drugs were definitely passed around at the studio after hours. There’d be a little coke here and there, and of course, pot, but taking drugs wasn't everyone’s focus.

Michael Jeffery actively interacted with everyone. He had such an upbeat personality. He was the studio cheerleader. Lance was overwhelmed and star struck at times with the whole experience.

It wasn’t always this rock legend paradise, though. There were situations that Lance would have rather avoided. He wasn't the type of guy who liked confrontation anyway. He just wanted everyone to get along.

Since Lance's arrival in NYC, there was a bit of dissension in the ranks. A couple of people couldn't understand why Michael Jeffery was putting up some small-time artist on the studio's tab for who knows how long, to paint a pretty picture. Profits should go toward buying much needed equipment, not a mural. Now that Jimi was gone they had to make Electric Lady a working studio. This didn’t sit well with Senior Engineer, Eddie Kramer.

As a result, whenever Lance came into Studio A, Eddie's domain, while he was setting up for a recording session, the high-strung engineer would get distracted. “What are you doing in here?” he’d ask, perturbed. Lance never faulted Eddie, the man had a job to do, but it was an uncomfortable situation whenever they ran into each other.

Lance got the hint real quick and from then on he hung out in Studio B where there was a much easier atmosphere. Eddie didn’t run the show in that room. Then he would return to the loft and paint into the early hours of the morning.