I'm with the Band: Confessions of a Groupie

147 Pages·2005·1.97 MB·English

by  Pamela Des Barres

THE CRITICS SING THEIR PRAISES
FOR I'M WITH
THE BAND
"These irresistible sexual memoirs of rock's golden
age—the Sixties and early Seventies—don't just name
names, they sing them out ... a rare treat in itself.
'' —Rolling Stone
"Only the stony-hearted won't get a king-sized thrill
from reading about Des Barres' roller-coaster rela-
tionships with Don Johnson . . . Keith Moon . . .
Ray Davies . . . and the details of her affair with
Mick Jagger—wow!''—Newsday
"If you've never believed those stories about sex
and drugs and rock 'n' roll, start now. Retired
groupie Pamela Des Barres has confirmed parents'
worst nightmares."—New York Post
"One of the most important, revealing, and un-
abashedly honest books about rock ever written."
—Boston Phoenix
Continued . . .
I'M WITH
MORE PRAISE FOR THE ROCK 'N' ROLL
MEMOIR OF THE YEAR!
THE BAND
"I'm With the Band is more than kiss-and-tell trash.
Granted, it's gossipy, but it's also a worthwhile
document of the blossoming of an innocent
California flower-child during rock's most exciting CONFESSIONS OF A GROUPIE
era."—Minneapolis Star & Tribune
"She confirms the notion that men often do make PAMELA
passes at girls with backstage passes . . . enthrall-
ing, funny, sometimes witty, Des Banes' book is
also an unusually romantic memoir."—Twin Cities
DESBARRES
Reader

"Talk about kiss and tell . . . In I'm With the Band,
Pamela lets us tag along on her personal journey
down the rock and roll path, and what a trip it is—
nearly as good as eavesdropping. Hats off to Pamela
Des Barres."—East Coast Rocker
"Plenty of juicy details and a witty, self-effacing
style . . . Her musical memories, however, could fill
any rock fan's hope chest."—Austin American-
Statesman (Austin, Texas)
"Classic!"— Kirkus
JOVE BOOKS, NEW YORK
To my darling son
Nicky Dean Des Barres

Permissions, constituting a continuation of the copyright page, Acknowledgments
are listed on pages 279-280.
This Jove book contains the revised
text of the original hardcover edition.
It has been completely reset in a typeface
designed for easy reading, and was printed
from new film.
I'M WITH THE BAND
A Jove Book/published by arrangement with
HEARTFELT THANK YOUS to my sweet mom for having the love and
William Morrow and Company, Inc.
patience of a saint, and for not squelching my soul; and to my
dear departed daddy for inspiring me always to dig for the gold.

PRINTING HISTORY
William Morrow edition published 1987 Intense appreciation goes out to C. Thomas (my Cleveland
Jove edition/September 1988 High School creative writing teacher), Don Van Vliet, Vito
Paulekas, Bob Dylan, The Fab Four, the late Gram Parsons,
All rights reserved. Copyright © the late Brandon de Wilde, Frank and Gail Zappa, and Chuck
1987, 1988 by Pamela Des Barres. Wein—for altering my priorities.
This book may not be reproduced in whole Adoration abounds for my divine girlfriends who hold me
or in part, by mimeograph or any other means,
up and calm me down: Melanie Griffith, Joyce Hyser, Cath-
without permission. For information address:
erine James, Denise Kaye, Rona Levitan, Mercy, Sheri Ri-
William Morrow and Company, Inc., 105
Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016. vera, Iva Turner, and the ever-present Mrs. Zappa.
Merci beaucoup to my darling Patti D'Arbanville for the
ISBN: 0-515-09712-8 perfect title.
Special love to Michele Myer.
Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, Beyond space and time—Danny Goldberg.
200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.
Thank you, Stephen Davis, for the encouragement; and thanks to
The name "JOVE" and the "J" logo are
Ron Bernstein, Bill Dana, Ben Edmonds, and Mel Berger.
trademarks belonging to Jove Publications, Inc.
A massive and abundant thankyouthankyouthankyou to Jim
Landis and Jane Meara for "being here now."
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
10 987654321
Contents

so of my stupid sincere youth
the exquisite failure uncouth
discovers a trembling and smooth
Unstrength, against the strong
silences of your song 1. Let Me Put It In, It Feels
- From "Always before your voice my soul' All Right 1
By E. E. Cummings 2. The Time to Hesitate Is Through . . . 30
3. Have You Ever Been Experienced? 59
4. Sweetheart of the Rodeo 87
5. Every Inch of My Love 118
6. It's a Gas Gas Gas 147
7. Dedicated Follower of Fashion 178
8. I Met Him on a Monday and My Heart
Stood Still 206
9. Take My Hand, Take My Whole
Life Too 234 Epilogue
263 Appendix: Last Will and
Testament, 1965 272
P.S. 274
Let Me Put It In, It
Feels All Right

I GET SHIVERS whenever I see those old black-and-white films of
Elvis getting shorn for Uncle Sam. When he rubs his hands over
the stubs of his former blue-black mane, I get a twinge in my
temples. In the glorious year of 1960, I was at the Reseda
Theater with my parents, and I saw the famous army footage
before the onslaught of Psycho. I don't know which was more
horrifying. I hung on to my daddy's neck and inhaled the
comforting familiarity of his drugstore aftershave and peeked
through my fingers as Norman Bates did his dirty work, and the
army barber did his. I tried to believe that Elvis was doing his
duty as an AMERICAN, but even at eleven years old, I
realized his raunch had been considerably diminished. I tacked
my five-and-dime calendar onto the dining-room wall and
drew big X's as each day passed, knowing he would let his hair
grow when he came home from Germany. Being an adored
only child, my mom let me keep the eyesore on the wall for
two years. I was always allowed to carry out my fantasies to
the tingling end, and I somehow survived several bouts of
temporary omnipotence.
All my girlfriends had siblings they had to share with, and
since I had two rooms of my own, my house was where
2 I'm With the Band Let Me Put It In, It Feels All Right 3
everyone wanted to bring their Barbie dolls. I ruled the neigh- "He's a Rebel." Dennis MacCorkell was the slump-shoul-
borhood until I entered Northbridge Junior High. It turned dered, shuffling, cigarette-dangling, pit-faced bad boy found in
out to be the real world, and was I surprised! My lack of most junior high schools in 1962. He would shout to me
breasts took precedence over my grades, and actual real-live whenever we passed in the hall, "Hey! No Underwear!!" I
boys loomed before me, loping around, too tall for their own took it as an endearment and blushed appropriately. He had
good. I wanted to make my parents happy and get an A in the same seat in his homeroom that I had in Biology I, and
Home Economics, but boys and rock and roll had altered my one Friday morning I found "No Underwear" carved into
priorities. the table. 1 hoped it was a secret message of adoration, even
I was always in awe of my big, gorgeous daddy. He looked though he was going steady with a tough Chicano girl named
just like Clark Gable, and disappeared on weekends to dig Jackie. Over the weekend, Dennis and two other bad boys
for gold way down deep in Mexico. He had always wanted to from another school stole a car and smashed it to pieces and
strike it rich, so right before I was born, he and my mom left they all went straight to Teen Angel heaven. Jackie came
Pond Creek, Kentucky, heading for gold country, which directly to school so we could all see her suffer. She was
allowed me to come into the world as a California native. wearing a black tulle veil, and her friends held her up all day
We lived right off Sunset and Vine, in a dinky little hut on as she staggered from class to class. She broke down during
Selma Avenue, and after a series of unilluminating vacuum- Nutrition, and every girl in school secretly wished that Dennis
salesman-type jobs, my daddy made his way farther west into MacCorkell had been her boyfriend. "He's a Rebel" became
the wild shrubbery of the San Fernando Valley suburbs, to associated with Dennis, and rebellion turned into infamy in my
seek his meager fortune bottling Budweiser. He splurged out teenage mind. Twenty years later, my mom was cleaning out
and bought his very own cream-colored Cadillac that he paid her drawers and came across a little box with a dead rose
for in seventy-two monthly installments, and we lived in the tucked inside, and a slip of paper cut out of my 1962
same split-level for twelve years, so I felt very secure. I had yearbook: "Hey, No Underwear, good luck with the boys,
two parents, a dog, a cat, a parakeet named Buttons, and Dennis MacCorkell."
three good meals a day. In my early years, my sweet mom Nobody ever forgot Dennis MacCorkell at Northridge Ju-
made sure that my wild daddy came across as a tame, devoted nior High.
father-figure, but no matter how much she buffered and suf- "He's a rebel, and he'll never be any good, he's a rebel
fered, it couldn't alter the fact that he was from the Old South, and he never does what he should . . . and just because he
and I was from the New West. doesn't do what everybody else does, that's no reason why I
can't give him all my love."
Two incidents occurred when I was fourteen that had a I began to associate the Top 10 with events and boys of
profound effect on my life. The first was when my dad re- the moment. My transistor became an appendage, the goopy-
lented and let me remove the wisps of hair from my very thin haired heroes crooning in my ear became all the boys who
legs (he did not, however, let me place the Lady Schick above ignored me during "I Pledge Allegiance to the Flag." Lyrics
the knee), and I had a moment of independence alone in the were taken seriously. I walked in the rain, crying, listening to
pink-tiled bathroom that will never be equalled for as long as I "Crying in the Rain" by the perfect-haired Everly Brothers,
live, squirting a pool of Jergens into my palm and slathering it imagining that I had just broken up with Phil "Caveman"
all over my hairless, Barbie-doll calves. Compared to getting Caruso, the Italian hunk in my Creative Writing class. When
my period, the first shave initiated me into the elementary Vance Branco didn't show up for my backyard luau, I joined
stage of womanhood with a much more exciting sense of Leslie Gore for the chorus, "It's my party and I'll cry if I want
adventure . . . going forth into the world with no hair on my to, cry if I want to, DIE if I want to . . ."I stood by the
calves—Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness! The screen door in a real honest-to-God grass skirt that my daddy
second incident involved a stolen car, a bad boy, and the song brought back from Okinawa, fiddling with my fake lei
4 I'm With the Band Let Me Put It In, It Feels All Ri^ht 5
while all of my guests twisted the night away . . . "You
heights, and I was in giddyup awe of my very own boyfriend. I
would cry too, if it happened to you," wore his baseball jacket to school, and took deep whiffs of it
Although I bought Bobby Vee records and wanted to put constantly. After so much dreaming about being near male
my head on Paul Anka's shoulder, I counted the minutes and flesh, just to breathe the male scent brought me to a near
seconds until Dion DiMucci, suave and greasy, wearing a faint.
shiny sharkskin suit, came gliding into my living room via The summer of '62 was about to heat up to a rolling boil.
American Bandstand, admitted by Uncle Dick Clark. Rock and roll became flesh and bones when the Rainbow
Rockers started to rehearse in the garage directly across the
May 9, 1962, Dear Diary . . . DION!!! Oh Help!!! I'm so street from my house. Jamieson Avenue became a danger
excited, I think I'll just DIE!!! I was runnin' around, zone. I didn't think anymore about Darrell Arena, or any of
chokin' and cryin' and yellin' and screamin'. wow wow the other ordinary schoolboys at Northridge Junior High who
cute cute CUTE!! you woulda died how he said "dum were barely starting to shave. Breathing, sweating MEN, with
didla dum didla dum didla dum." I was rolling over shiny black pompadours and guitars, were playing rock and
inside, I was cryin', I love him so much . . . roll right outside my bedroom window!! Never having heard a
band tune up before, I was jolted awake one July morning by
disjointed twanging and an amplified voice: "Test . . .
I would sit cross-legged on the floor in front of our big testing . . . one . . . two . . . one . . . two . . ."I ran out to the
blond box, dribbling tears of teen fove into my Pop Tart while front yard and leaned against the chain link fence in
my mom looked on, shaking her head in amazement the way disbelief. A neon-green sunflaked '58 lowered Bonneville
moms do. I had a shrine to Dion on my dresser, and I wore a gleamed hotly across the street, and a black-haired beauty
locket around my neck with his picture clipped from 16 was pulling a candy-apple-red guitar out of the trunk. Three
magazine and swooned over his slippery, sexy cool. It broke guys were already gracing the garage, setting up drums, tuning
my heart when he married Sue Butterfield. I guess he was guitars, and a magnificent tall creature was crooning into a
just pissed off at her when he wrote "Runaround Sue." microphone: "I had a girl, Donna was her name, since I met
her, I'll never be the same." Neither would the neighborhood.
I was truly boy crazy. My first boyfriend happened in the It didn't take me long to make their acquaintance. In fact, all
eighth grade. Darrell Arena was a half-semester behind me, the girls on the block became an immediate and constant
but he made up for it with a shiny, hairless, muscular chest audience.
that I gazed at while we swam in his big Canoga Park swim-
ming pool. The most we ever did was kiss without tongues
July 13 ... They played, and me, Iva and Linda listened.
up in his maple bunk bed.
Robby sure is a doll, I talked to him a lot, he's 18 and his
shirt was way open wow! I left at 11 at nite and Robby
May 28 ... When he put his musclie arm around me, I said "good-bye my love." I sure hope they make the big
died!! I hope it's not dumb to put your arm around a boy time!!
when he has his arm around you. Wow, he has a build
and a half. If I don't see him tomorrow, I'll croak.
The lead singer, Dino, worked out with weights, and by
the end of the day, stripped down to his peg legs, driblets of
Darrell rode show horses, and his mom would pick me up in sweat struggling down his biceps, clutching the mike like it
the green family Buick so I could be present when he trotted was Brenda Lee, he groaned about his lover leaving him while I
by in his sateen horse-show outfit and pointy-toed boots with leaned against the screen door in a legitimate swoon. He
spurs. He would smile down at me from lofty horsey was twenty years old and beyond my teen reach, but a couple
I'm With the Band Let Me Put It In, It Feels All Right 7
of weeks later, I got my first wet kiss from Robby. He was I know it won't be right I
the lead-guitar player. It was on the way back from Pacific am just a fool to him I cry
Ocean Park, where my girlfriends and I had spent the entire each day and night
day with the Rainbow Rockers, clutching and grabbing on
them, round and round, up and down, on the rickety roller This bottle that's in my hand
coaster, squealing with newfound pubescent frenzy. Just to Will stop my hurting heart From
get my hands on a thigh or shoulder and squeeze hard was beating without use Since we
worth ten thousand trips on the scariest ride in the universe. had to part
We crammed into the backseat of the Bonneville, the sea Tell Robby I love him
breeze pouring in the windows, and took off for the Valley, And I couldn't go on
eating cotton candy and caramel apples. I could smell Rob- Knowing he will love someone else
by's manly manliness; it wafted over me and I collapsed into That our love is gone
his English Leather lapels with the giggles. I'll never forget
this: he cupped my chin in his hand and pulled my face up to I gave up on the butcher-knife idea pretty fast.
his lips, opened up my mouth with his tongue and slid it
right in! What an amazing sensation! It was so wet, and he RESOLUTIONS FOR 1964
moved his lips all over, and his tongue poked around inside
my mouth like it was trying to locate something. When I had to 1. Don't hang on boys
come up for air, we were in front of my house on Jamieson 2. Be serious when it's called for
Avenue, and I felt like I had taken a trip around the* world. I 3. Try harder on my complexion
flew into the house, threw the door open, and my mom was 4. Get better grades
standing there, kind of tapping her foot because I was a few 5. Concentrate on my figure looking better
minutes late. Breathlesslyexcited, I said, "MOM!! Have you 6. Don't rat my hair so much
v
ever been French-kissed!!?" She demanded all the details and 7. Try to be more feminine
proceeded to ground me for an entire week, adding that I 8. Be cute every day
could NEVER BE ALONE WITH ROBBY AGAIN!! What 9. Don't use vulgar language
transpired is a historical piece of typical teen torment. I 10. Let my nails stay long and polished
stormed into the kitchen, got a massive butcher knife, lay 11. Pluck my eyebrows every four days
down on the floor, and, clutching my snapshot of Robby and 12. Shave my legs and underarms every week
sobbing hysterically, announced that I was going to stab myself 13. Deodorant every day
in the heart. 14. Brush teeth twice a day
15. Don't waste money on trash
Tell Robby I love him And I 16. Don't ruin boys [What could I have possibly
couldn 't go on Knowing he's meant by THAT??]
across the street That our love
is gone It was a rough life, wasn't it?
Tell Robby I miss him Tho'
I had a disturbing lack of mammary glands when I started
he won't miss me The tears
high school. It was soooo important to entice the ogling high
I cry each night Just bring
school boys with at least some semblance of cleavage. The
misery
lack of a C cup, or even a B cup, was one of those unfortu-
My life will be ending now nate things that I had to live with. I remember a matching
8 I'm With the Band Let Me Put It In, It Feels All Right 9
pair of particularly silky yellow scarves that I wadded up very
with little hair bows that matched their little shoe bows, and
carefully to stuff into one of my many "slightly padded"
even if I found the bows that matched, they somehow always
Maidenforms. I had to make sure the shape was exactly the
came out looking crooked.
same in each cup; the placing of the scarves in each gaping
Frankie DiBiase actually did invite me to his pool one af-
slot was crucial because it had to look like I was bulging with
ternoon, and I panicked. I said could I please come tomor-
cleavage. I was once called "the stacked girl down the
row, and spent that afternoon cruising Reseda Boulevard
street,'' and felt a combination of pride and guilt that I still
looking for a bathing suit that would accommodate my
find hard to comprehend, kind of a falsie pride! I hated Gym
scarves. I finally decided that the scarves would constantly
because you were required to shower and it was a difficult
drip and might feel like small boulders when sopping wet, so I
task to hide my stuffed bra under that skimpy school towel! A
spent the entire evening sewing puffy pads into a little pink-
couple of the older girls must have seen my scarves trailing
checked-two-piece. I had only been in the pool for three minutes
behind me, because when we passed in the halls, they would
when I realized that Frankie's gaze was penetrating my bosom.
punch my chest and yell, "Falsie!" It must have pissed them
I just knew the puffy pads hadn't fooled him, so when he tried to
off that the boys believed I had a bosom bigger than theirs. I
put his arms around me and squeeze my shoulders together to
can't really blame them.
peek down into nonexistent cleavage, I wriggled away and
There was a girl at Cleveland High that I'll never forget,
announced I was going home. After that, whenever we passed
Nicki Petalis. I once saw a cute guy ask her to look down at
in the halls he had a knowing smirk on his face. I was
her feet to find out if she could see them. She cast her doe
chagrined, but the idea of running for cheerleader never
eyes downward and giggled, "What do you know, I can't
entered my mind again.
see them!!'' There was a majestic mammary mountain in her
I still wore the school colors, got B's, and was trying to
way. I console myself with the fact that Nicki's envious pro-
figure out what kind of boy was right for me when I got a
portions are probably swaying at waist level by now, but to
fatal dose of Beatlemania. The Fab Four entered the atmo-
this day I look down at my feet and wish I couldn't see them.
sphere at exactly the right wide-open moment for Pam Miller of
C-C-C-L-E-V-E-L-A-N-D, CLEVELAND, CLEVE-
Reseda, California, to become a complete and total blithering,
LAND, YAYYY!!!
idiotic Beatlemaniac. Paul McCartney personified the perfect
Despite the fact that I had small titties, I was nuts about
MAN, and once again the dumb-bells at Cleveland High
my high school. I had a crush on the head yell leader, Frankie
who didn't ask me to dance at sock hops faded into oblivion.
DiBiase, and hoped against hope that I could become a cheer-
I had been searching for some new idols anyway. The
leader and toss the pompons all around his skinny body.
Beachboys and Jan and Dean weren't my teen cup of tea, and
Dion had disappeared after getting weird on national TV. There
January 11, 1964 ... I sure do love my golden idol, F.D. was a rumor going around Reseda that Bobby Rydell had gone
Man, don't ask me why, but every time I think of him I and married the massive-tilted Mouseketeer Annette Funicello,
get chills, and that adrenalin runs through my body . . . and besides, his records were getting lamer and lamer
ooooh! OK enough of this, my heart is dying chunk by anyway; and Paul Anka had gone right into the middle of the
chunk. road and stayed there.
I often got crushes on the wrong people. This yell leader February 10 ... Hello Diary, Paul, you are gear. Really
was much too squeaky clean for me, and deep down I knew Fab. Say chum, why are you so marvelous, luv? The
I'd never get him. I was already on the verge of weirdness, most bloomin' idiot on earth is me, cause I'm wild over
and these types went for the perfectly bouffanted cover girls you chap.
10 I'm With the Band Let Me Put It In, It Feels All Right 11
The country of England, which hadn't existed for me me behind with my Beatles lunch box and bobbing-head dolls,
until now, became Mecca, and every day I sent Paul a practicing my Liverpudlian accent. And guess what? They're
retardedly corny poem written on an aerogram and sealed with probably still in Reseda with a gaggle of goony kids to kowtow
a kiss. to, being forced to listen to Motley Crue by their very own
burgeoning teenagers, and it serves them right.
We gravitated to one another, the Beatles weeties, and hung
March 2 ... It's 2:21 A M at Paul's house. He's sleeping.
around in packs of four, one for each Beatle. Kathy Willis
I'm glad. I wish I could see him sleeping, I really do. I
was my Georgefriend; her dad knew somebody who worked at
wish I could be with him sleeping, (just kidding) I hope he
the Hollywood Bowl and was going to get us good seats for
read my poem before he closed his beautiful brown eyes.
the Beatles concert on August 23. We got our tickets before
anybody else, and bought gilt frames to put them in and
Even though I dreamed about, what was between Paul's hung them on our bedroom walls. I paid homage to my ticket
perfect milky-white thighs, I had not yet conjured up dimen- nightly. My entire room was covered with Beatle par-
sions. I collected Beatle bubble-gum cards, and one of them aphernalia, I wrote with a Beatle pen, slept on a Beatle pil-
was a shot of Paul playing his bass, sitting on a bed in a hotel lowcase, and breathed with Beatle lungs. Stevie was my
with his legs apart. You could actually see the shape of his Ringofriend, and no one understood the poor thing.
balls being crushed by the tightness of his trousers, and I
carried that card around with me in a little gold box with Oh, Pammy, I feel like the world is caving in on me!! Ev-
cotton covering it like it was a precious jewel. I peeked into it eryone is trying to take Ringo away from me. Help me Pam,
reverently, once a day, and lifted the cotton gently, holding my oh please help me!! I need encouragement so bad. I've got to
breath as I stared between his legs at the eighth wonder of the meet Ringo or my whole life will be completely empty. Oh,
world. Every other day on my Beatles station, KRLA, Dave I'm suffering so. He's my love and I love him. Oh, God,
Hull the Hullabalooer would announce whether or not Paul please don't let me Ringo be taken away.
was engaged to marry the creepy freckle-faced bowwow,
Jane Asher. It drove me crazy; it's all I thought about. We wrote Beatle letters to each other constantly, whining
and moaning, and expressing the deepdeepdeep desire to meet
/ stare at his face upon my wall the Beatle of our choice. But Howhowhow???
I know I love him best of all Linda was my Johnfriend. We spent weekends at my Aunt
His gorgeous eyes just knock me down Edna's house so we could be on neutral ground, pretending it
I sware I think he should wear a crown was hallowed Beatle ground. We were two girls in a constant
The way he moves when he sings a song state of Beatle skits. I played John and myself, and she played
Let's hope he doesn 't marry before long Paul and herself. We could switch personalities with the flick
of an accent. We took each other to parties and concerts, we
ate dinner in gorgeous restaurants on Aunt Edna's patio, and
March 20 ... He's NOT, He's NOT!!! Brian Epstein sent a
professed undying love with semiperfect working-class
cable-gram to Columbia Records to announce; Paul's
Liverpudlian accents. At night, we played all four people at the
getting married is completely and ridiculously untrue . . .
same time, when we would lie entwined in each other's arms,
Brian Epstein. YAY!!!! There's no queen for my king YET!
pressing our four sets of lips together in an eternal expression
of Beatle Love.
I lost some good friends who were growing up and going We wrote Beatle love stories for each other, and I could
steady and planning their lives after high school. They left hardly wait to get to school to get my hands on the next
installment of my continuing Paulsaga. I had six stories going