Q&A Sessions Javier Pacheco (Fritz), July 5 - 24, 1999 Page 4 It may or may not surprise you to know that Lindsey in particular was unhappy with Fleetwood's book - termed it a "cheap shot," and expressed disgust with inaccuracies, falsehoods, and the "lack of dignity" he thought the book portrayed. (It seems that the others in the band generally may not have been too thrilled with the book either). I'm wondering, since you've mentioned the possibility of writing memoirs, if you would seek out some input from ex-Fritz members when writing about those years to avoid some of the navel-gazing and pitfalls of Mick's book? Also, and perhaps this is a silly question based on the frankness of your answers here, but would you be at all concerned about ruffling the feathers of ex-Fritz mates in that kind of publication? (Les, San Diego, CA, USA) Oh-oh, judgement call! This is an interesting question. Well, I know very little about FM. Hard for me to even tell how far Mr Fleetwood burned his bridges. Perhaps he has a penchant for yellow journalism. I am wondering what Mick’s intentions were if he didn’t even bother to share any contents before going to press. Popular musicians are public entities, and people are going to want to know if they are religious, apathetic, agnostic, whatever. Historically, we inquiring minds have also been pushing the envelope (is it the fault of ambitious reporters, or the curious public?) wanting to know more and more insider details about their beloved icons. I know all musicians hate to air their dirty laundry. Its one of the most difficult things to tackle when describing the inner workings of a music ensemble. Nobody wants to bring out the dirt. For instance, the drug consumption topic. Nobody wants to divulge this information. You are considered a rat for focusing on potentially embarrassing situations like that. And yet, what if this consumption is part and parcel of what makes the band tick? We live in a culture of drug consumption. Eric Clapton came out and admitted he was mainlining and that just finishing a gig (with the same lineup of tunes) every night was a major accomplishment! He was talking primarily about himself although the other members were also implicated. As an ethnomusicologist, I have written about urban musicians (traditional and modern) in many contexts, and there are certain areas where one does not tread unless there is prior advice and consent. As writers, we may want to “spice up” our writing with juicy gossip (as Mr Mick might have done)--its up to the readers to judge whether this inside information is apropos, whether it really aids in the understanding of the characters in question. I wouldn’t think of putting out a serious study of FRITZ without at least consulting with my colleagues. But that reflects my scholarly and ethical upbringing. I would want to include all available perspectives, not just my own. I would want to be thorough, and I would also want to check with the others before opening anything in “Pandora’s Box” that might unleash needless storms of controversy. Now, some of you might argue that I am not consulting anyone and I am making a lot of strong assertions here. Don’t worry, I think you’ve heard the worst--there are no more skeletons. There are a number of good things about FRITZ yet to be revealed. Also, this is a one-on-one spontaneous Q&A session. It is not a scientific inquiry. If and when I get around to the phase of putting this information (and more) into book form I will first attempt to get the opinion and participation of my peers on its contents. I would still want to give my own gritty opinions, regardless of whether they “ruffled feathers.” But the last thing I would want to hear would be that the book was inaccurate, or that it contained “cheapshots” or falsehoods. I would want to be very thorough and fair. Did you get the opportunity to meet Stevie's grandfather, AJ? You mentioned that he was kind of a legend in country music. I'd always heard him described as sort of a failure who was disappointed at his lack of success. Did you ever get the chance to hear him perform? (Tracy G., Stockbridge, GA, USA) No I didn’t. Stevie once played a couple of his songs for us, long time ago. I don’t know if he ever traveled to California to see his family. Stevie talked glowingly about him and so I assumed he was a kind of legend. I can think of over a dozen musicians who I know are living legends because of their great talent and proficiency. Unfortunately, they didn’t get “discovered,” did not become household words or greet overnight success. They remained stellar figures only to those few lucky enough to come into contact with them, those few who enjoyed their musical gifts. This is a fluff question, but I'm curious...did Stevie ever wear stage costumes during her stint in Fritz or did the platform boots and chiffon come later? Was she a jeans & t-shirt type girl back then? (Tracy G., Stockbridge, GA, USA) No Tracy, it really depended on the type of date we were playing. She could dress down if it was just a two-hour private party at Joe Blow’s house (an acquaintance). She usually wore clothes that were comfortable and well suited to the stage. When we got to the big stages, when it was time to play with the “big boys” Stevie did wear flashy clothes. I remember that for those Los Angeles dates she had on elaborate costumes, yet, nothing too risqué or flamboyant. On the whole, I would venture to say that her taste for clothing was quite impeccable. I cannot recall ever dealing with a situation in which she was out of context with something she wore. She always had good taste in clothes and normally dressed conservatively, not extravagantly, for the times. What happened when Lindsey decided to pursue his musical interests instead of staying with the swim team? You mentioned that his coach went ballistic. Did you witness that event, or did Lindsey tell the group about it? (Tracy G., Stockbridge, GA, USA) He told us about it. It happened several months after we had formed (Cal, Jody, Bob, Lindsey and myself). It was time for varsity swimming. His coach wanted Linds to spend all free time in the pool. Lindsey had to tell him he wanted to try music and the coach gave him his famous ultimatum. Linds was quite upset about it, upset about the rude tact of his coach. There would be no room for any compromise. This only strengthened his resolve. Though he loved swimming, Lindsey was very enthusiastic about playing music, he felt this was what he wanted to do. His parents wisely understood that and gave him room to follow his interests. Had they sided with the coach, we would not have been allowed to rehearse at the Buckingham’s garage. Can you tell us anything more about the short time you spent with Lindsey in 1980 (I hope I have the date correct)? (David, Los Angeles, CA, USA) Lindsey gave me his number in 1978 when he visited my house in San Carlos. In 1980 I had moved to San Francisco, teaching and taking graduate classes down the street at SFSU. He came over with the understanding that we would visit, jam on our instruments and maybe share some material. I told him I had some original material--tht I would like to give him musical stuff to use. He recommended I first listen to Rumours and Tusk, in order to get acquainted with the style. I hadn’t heard either album yet. This I did, and I also wrote a song called Pioneers that I thought he might like. He arrived around two in the afternoon. We embraced like two brothers. I didn’t have a small amp for him so we drove over to a music shop nearby and purchased a Fender Champ Amp. At first nobody noticed us. Lindsey was trying out some guitars in the store and whatnot. I looked at a few keyboards. By the time we were ready to walk out, the whole store was buzzing about “That’s Lindsey Buckingham!” “That’s the real Lindsey Buckingham!!” We had our little jam. I was playing my Baldwyn Hamilton (upright piano). I taped it on cassette. We warmed up with some songs of mine that Lindsey had heard before. Then I showed him my new material. We had a great time jamming. The room where the piano is located is at the end of the house (Grafton Street, in Inglewood District) near the street corner. There is a bus stop there. The shades were drawn so you couldn’t see inside. People were hanging out, some even missed their buses in order to hear the heavy music coming from the grey house. My lovely lady Alicia cooked us a steak dinner and we stopped around six to eat. After that, Linds looked at his watch and said, “Gotta run.” Again, we parted with a hug, like brothers. I gave him a copy of the cassette we had recorded and he opened his trunk to put the guitar case away. Inside the car trunk was a big cardboard box stuffed with all kinds of cassettes. He just threw my tape on top of the pile. Apparently, he had done a number of rounds, jamming with lots of other musicians, recording ideas left and right. Well, needless to say, I don’t think he ever referred back to that recording we made in San Francisco. He didn’t use any of it, but that’s o.k. (In case you ever read this, I still owe you some money, Lindsey, and I do intend to, expect to pay you back!!!) Thanks so much for taking the time to answer all of these questions. I was wondering if when you knew Stevie in Fritz if she was considered extremely attractive, and if she was, whether you think this affected the way others perceived her as a serious singer/songwriter (i.e., did that make people not take her seriously). Also, I was wondering how Stevie, and the whole band for that matter, dressed for gigs. Did Stevie use any sort of theatrical clothing like she did in FM? Did anyone else in the band? Thanks!! (Kelley, Corsicana, Texas, USA) Depends on what time in our 3 1/2 years you’re talking about. The best I can say of Stevie at the very beginning of our FRITZ hiatus is that she was considered a “cute chick.” She was 19, and cute. Not sexy, nor sultry, nor fancy or shmancy, just cute. Please keep one thing in mind. Its one thing to be up on the same stage doing the music, looking around but mainly fixating on what your fingers are supposed to be doing, making eye-contact with the other instrumentalists, waiting for cues, etc., etc. Its quite another thing to be sitting in front of the stage, watching the lead singer go through all her moves, eyes on her at all times. When we first heard that people wanted to hire the band because they liked that “blond chick,” we didn’t throw up our arms and say, “Those heathen philistines don’t know good music when they hear it!” We collectively said, “Great!” “They want us back.” No one was jealous, we were satisfied that we had been remembered. And Stevie never did anything off-color or tasteless to get attention, she wasn’t a “bump and grind” kind of girl. Previously, I mentioned the initial reservations about her ability to handle the music. We found ways to get around that. The fact that she caused the band to get attention and that she contributed music to the band meant that her place in the band would become more secure. At the beginning, we didn’t know Stevie, didn’t know how long she’d last--she was new to rock bands. She also had her own insecurities. This has all been discussed elsewhere here. After about a year it was clear that she would be a permanent member of the band. She hadn’t yet written a whole lot of songs during this period, however. We only played two of them. For a Fillmore date or some other big concert, we dressed up. There was a store on Polk Street in San Francisco called Town Squire where the fellas and the women could buy Victorian outfits, hand-knitted tops and bell-bottomed trousers, etc. We each had our little wardrobes of “Renaissance clothes.” It was fun to wear this stuff, it went well with the long flowing hair! But for local high school dances and things, we’d come very casual--jeans and whatnot. I have no questions to ask. I just wanted to say thank you so very much for doing this. It means so much! (Renee Schade, Los Angeles, CA, USA) You are very welcome. My pleasure. Thank you for your continued interest. Did Fritz have a 'farewell' performance? That last gig that you mentioned, did the band members and/or the audience know that it was to be the last time Fritz would play together ? (Tracy G., Stockbridge, GA, USA) I think its safe to say that the De Anza College date was the last hurrah. No, the audience didn’t have a clue to what was going on. We arrived at dusk, about twenty minutes before the downbeat and were astonished to see a thick line of people stretching through the campus. This got our attention! Then, they packed the place--it was wall-to-wall people. People hustled and pushed to get up close. You could cut the excitement with a knife! The electrified audience treated us as though we were the big time. That’s why I can’t forget that evening. We had played throughout Santa Clara Valley (now known as Silicon Valley), every high school, from Los Altos, Cupertino, San Jose, Mountain View, you name it. Maybe this was the gist of our real following over the years. Their booming, surreal applause was wildly enthusiastic and sustained. You can’t imagine the feeling of soaking up those fantastic ovations while knowing it was all coming to an end. Afterwards, Bob cried, I mentioned my hairs stood up. All of us got very emotional but tried to hide it, to hold it down. It was very hard to keep tears from welling up. There was something very magical in the air that night--maybe the times magnified everything we were experiencing. But alas, despite the brief euphoria, it was reality time, the cards had already been played. Linds and Stevie’s minds were made up, we all knew it. If FRITZ had bombed out musically, it would have been so much easier to kiss everything goodbye. If we had played a funky lil hole-in-the wall somewhere it would have been easy to part ways. But we were never groomed to play club gigs--our goal had always been, “Original music, concert gigs, national exposure.” We had worked so hard at rehearsals, had gone over minute details, polishing much in our shows. Each set was a professional flowing rendition of songs and solos, everything worked out in advance. De Anza College was just us. We were not opening, we were the draw. It was the culmination of three and a half years of where we were headed. But there were no bouquets, no flowers, no farewell notes, no words of closure here. The L.A. boys soon scooped out our bank account (for “services rendered’). We heard this though one of Dave Forest’s weekly letters which also stopped coming. As a band, I don’t think we ever had a proper “farewell.” It was more like, “See ya around.” Your question brings something else to mind. This whole issue of the finality of things. Even in 1968 we had issues in the band--some were addressed in songs. Other issues festered and came out later under different circumstances or triggers. But in the process of being in a band comprised of very individual members, there are compromises to be made, there are adjustments to hammer out. If there is good communication between everyone, then these things get resolved quickly. if not, then bigger problems arise later on. Sometimes it takes reverse psychology--a song as crude as “Wondering Why” to make people reflect, “Why is he saying this?” This then becomes a catalyst toward addressing pending issues. At least, that’s what I thought. Maybe that’s what Mick’s book was trying to accomplish. I can confirm to you that “Wondering Why,” “Product of the Times,” “Bold Narcissus” “Next Time Around” were screaming for attention and discussion. Perhaps some reflection (by the others) went into this after the third or even thirteenth playing. But the big issues would just ride. Unfortunately, it seems that the reverse psychology approach would be counterproductive. I’d love to find out what my colleagues would have to say about all of that. In any organization of people sometimes there are things that must die in order for other more progressive interaction to continue. For instance attitudes. Sometimes it seemed I was the only one trying to maintain constructive dialogue, but perhaps my intentions were perceived as too pushy or not clearly postulated. These attempts to air legitimate differences were often greeted with a measure of apprehension or dread. First of all, I would like to add my thanks for taking the time to answer these questions - you have cast light upon a rather dim corner in the lives of Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham! I would like to ask you a question about Stevie and Lindsey's aspirations, their hopes and fears. Did either Lindsey or Stevie talk about what they wanted from their lives? What sort of ambitions did they have for their futures? Stevie has in some interviews indicated her sorrow at not having children; Lindsey has of course just become a father - was having a family something that was important to either or both of them? Lindsey and Stevie enjoy very different types of fame and I wondered also whether they talked at any time about their aspirations and hopes for their careers? (Angela, Oxford, England) During the time that I knew them I would say we all shared the same ambitions but differed ultimately, on the way toward our goals. Playing music was something we all loved. Creating music was a stimulating exercise. Performing for an audience and getting paid was icing on the cake. In the majority of days that we were a consolidated band we had the confidence about eventually hitting pay dirt. The collective opinion was that a family would be deferred for some time until things were more settled and secure. That means we expected to make it--we expected to be doing twice as good each year. We had no reason to believe otherwise, things had gotten better and better in terms of the types of gigs, the money earned, the notoriety, etc. We felt reasonably secure that Forest’s hustle was going to land us a recording contract, that we were going to “make it.” But at that early an age, familial aspirations were not pressing on us. We were sufficiently buoyed by our growing good fortune to think there’d be more bright lights and $$ at the end of our proverbial tunnel. I think on a certain level, Stevie regretted losing Dave Young. He really wanted to get more serious with her, but she knew deep down inside that she wasn’t ready to settle down, there was much she wanted to do yet. Had she never experienced band life and the music business, I think its safe to say that she’d have married a long time ago and raised a hearty brood. The same goes for Lindsey. Perhaps he would have married Sally Durbin and become good at growing tomatoes, who knows. At that age, we still had no sense of the preciousness and limitations of time. For those who haven’t started families yet, you have to get to your forties before you start feeling the real pressures of time closing in on you. Around single midlife is when regrets start seeping in concerning that fleeting “lightness of being” characterizing our younger years. Basically, Stevie and Lindsey, as well as Brian, Bob and I wanted to find the kind of security and comfort that we grew up in. Naturally, we expected to surpass where we had come from. We identified with the successful groups of the times--we’d rubbed elbows with many of them--it seemed we were on the right path. We lasted as long as we did because our progressive curve was on the up-’n-up. As far as “fears” go--Vietnam was the main concern of the day. Other issues such as Civil Rights, national/global politics, economics or ideology were not S&L’s forte. We did talk a lot about music, other musicians, performances, recordings, about the hippie movement, or about immediate concerns in our mundane lives. When you and Lindsey got together in 1980, where was it and what did you do? Did you find Lindsey to be changed in any way because of his fame and fortune? What were your impressions? Thank you! (Barbara Holmes, Houston, TX, USA) I already previously answered the first part of your question. Your other questions are excellent. I had talked to a mutual friend about Lindsey a couple of years before I saw him. This buddy told me he didn’t think Lindsey had changed one iota. My initial impression of what he said was one of disbelief. I may not have been a FM fan or followed Lindsey’s exploits closely, but I knew what he had done. I knew he was in the so-called “big time.” I knew from experience (my sister’s) that money (particularly coming into lots of it) changes you. I was skeptical. When Lindsey finally did drive up to the City, the initial contact with him was as warm and sincere as if I hadn’t seen a brother in a year. We spent a nice afternoon together and he left promptly after dinner. But it did seem like the old Lindsey I had always known. But that was 1980. I have not heard from him since then. You tell me. Early on in the question and answer period you stated, "She and I could have become more than friends, but at the time I was too clumsy, clowning and preoccupied with other matters, and therefore, missed my chance to get closer. The main thing I regret about all that is, after that particular time, Stevie and I did not become better friends, but just the opposite. Also basically, our temperaments are very unalike." You liked Robin. Stevie and Robin were very close. Let's imagine Stevie and Robin read all the things that you have answered here. What would their take be on it? Would they agree? You state that Stevie is discreet in her relations with others. Yet you have written Stevie was with some football star, and with others--how do you know this? Did you know Dave Young and HE shared this with you? Why is who slept with Stevie so important? Could you even imagine that Stevie would want to be your friend now? I also understand the prejudices that Mexicans have face--don't you think you really are dumping on Stevie--and her family, who you admit that you had little contact with, rather heavily in some of what you have written? If you do decide to ever write a book, perhaps some of these things ought to be considered. I realize a lot of your words were just off the top of your head at times. But you are putting this stuff on line, stuff that can be seen and read by anyone. Just my opinion. I have appreciated what you have said about the MUSIC. (blackcat, PA, USA) HAVE YOU READ EVERYTHING HERE? Robin is away, in heaven. Anybody who has ever known me knows I speak my mind, I try to be thorough and don’t hold back punches. More importantly, I have said more good things than bad things about Stevie, for those of you keeping score. People writing to this Q&A web page have asked me repeatedly to reveal what I know about the intimate lives of S&L. I have endeavored to do this. My flirtations and brief visits with Robin (R.I.P.) happened at a different time and basically carried Stevie’s tacit approval--this occurred while Robin was spending nights at Stevie’s. Nothing really happened. These were very brief flings we’re talking about, hardly even worth mentioning. I had merely added recollections of her in passing. My fling with Stevie was equally brief and took place at another time, say about late Summer 1968. Now back up a year and a half. Before Stevie entered the band she was regularly seeing Dave Young, this is general knowledge, its in the prom picture of their M-A HS Yearbook. And I never said she was intimate with Dave. I personally don’t know that. You must realize people have been asking me for all kinds of personal details and where there is potential controversy I have tried to make my responses brief. It is not my wish to be dumping on Stevie here or anywhere, and I expect that if she were to read all I have written here she would not be making the kind of rash judgements that you have made. Despite these “strolls through past” please keep in mind that I am not the same person she dealt with in 1971. And I know she is not the same person I once knew. Again, I have shared what were my first impressions of the Nicks and Buckingham families. I called the shots as I saw them. If I said Lindsey’s family was more supportive, it was because we band members experienced it. Its not like I set out to portray Stevie’s family as villains in a soapbox. If anyone is afraid that my revelations will shatter fragile bubbles regarding feelings for Stevie or whomever, then please ask me questions solely about the music. Let’s just talk musical shoptalk and leave the rest go. Unfortunately, I happen to believe that all music should be examined within its cultural context. This includes the conduct of individuals--one’s lifestyle does seep into production values. (Kinda like, “you are what you eat”) But if you want to keep it square on the music, fine! That’s o.k. with me too! Oh, and I really don’t think you know that much about the prejudices Mexicans have and continue to face. Thank you. When did you begin playing keyboards? What prompted your interest in music? It seems like most of the Fritz band members had years of experience behind them for such a young group of people. (Tracy G., Stockbridge, GA, USA) Who said most of "the Fritz band members had years of experience behind them"? Not really. Fritz was the first serious band for L&S. Bob had already been in a couple of groups. Brian had played with one band or I think he'd only jammed at his private boarding school (he studied abroad). I started playing in my first band with Bob Aguirre in 1964. Before I mention The Castiles, lemmie back up to my seventh birthday, 1956. Elvis was king, I didn’t know what the fuss was about. Dean Martin, Perry Como, The Platters plus the big band sounds of Les Baxter (The Poor People of Paris) and Nelson Riddle (Lisbon Antigua) were circulating on the play charts of radio stations all around the country. I started learning music for the first time. There was a home on El Camino Real (Redwood City) selling rooms full of accordions and weekly lessons. I took lessons with a pretty Italian lady. It was a small pastel-red piano (Diatonic) accordion (w/one-octave bass), just right for my small size. She taught me basic notation and reading. We played mostly marches and polkas. I say “we” because I copied everything she did. We even assisted at some polka parties, there were other kids to meet in our little accordion society. But after a year and a half of this I wanted out. I complained my teacher smoked too much and the folks took it as a cop out. In fact, I wasn't learning to read notes. The task seemed phenomenal, monumental, compared to the ease of picking up music by ear. Music had been with me from peewee years. Dad used to mess around on the guitar. He serenaded Mom sometimes, but with feigned falsetto. I think he was voice shy. But he listened to a lot of different music, from Pedro Vargas to Ray Coniff, from ranchera music to Benny Goodman. We weren’t wealthy but had a rich collection of 78 and 33 rpm records. We were also extremely lucky to live next door to an elderly Irish couple (the O’Neils), who were family to my two sisters and I. Like my parents, they were new to America too. They’d migrated in their middle years. The gentleman Mr O’Neil was a masterful player of the Hohner button-accordion. He would sit in his room facing our house and play away. His cheerful, spirited jigs brightened many a day. I was introduced to Celtic music and culture through the O’Neils. 1960 was a year full of novel changes and hopes for a brighter future. My first 45 rpm record was Chubby Checker’s The Twist. World population topped 3 billion, up from 2 billion in 1930. The economy was so good most people ignored outgoing President Eisenhower’s warnings about a creeping “military-industrial complex.” John F. Kennedy beat Nixon to the Presidency in November. At age eleven, Dad bought my sister a baby grand piano. Piano lessons for me were out because I’d quit the accordion. So Pops figured I wouldn't hang on the piano either. But I loved da piano! I started tinkling away at keys whenever Sis was away, so I taught myself. Of course, Blue Moon was the first. With near perfect pitch (a good ear) and a good memory it was easy to pick up recordings by rote (using a tape recorder, later, cassette) or just hearing them for the first time and remembering the sequences. Down the street from us lived a Latino who played drums and practiced with a small combo on some evenings. One day he let me sit in, that is, he let me bang the drums. After this experience I was sure of what I wanted to do. I wanted to play in a band. By the time I was in the 8th grade I owned a decent collection of 45 records. From Dion and the Belmonts to the Chiffons. This entitled me to be sock hop coordinator at our junior high school. I graduated from eighth grade with multiple distinctions: an A in Latin, popular class rep, and sock hop DJ. KYA Radio 1260 had been my official canon. I listened to the radio every chance I got. In the “Official Top Thirty For the Week Ending August 2, 1963” it was Wipe Out (Surfaris), Fingertips Pt 2 (Little Stevie Wonder), Mockingbird (Ines Foxx), Candy Girl (The Four Seasons), Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport (Rolf Harris), Devil in Disguise (Elvis Presley), Easier Said than Done (Essex), If I Had A Hammer (Trini Lopez), Blowing in the Wind (Peter, Paul & Mary), and that’s just the top ten! I was into the whole thick and thin of it, lock, stock and barrel. From Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, Kai Winding, Roy Orbison, to Ray Charles, Bobby Blue Bland, Martha & The Vandellas, Major Lance, and then Sunny and the Sunglows, Chris Montez, Sam the Sham, to Los Indios Tabajaras. September 6, 1963 the top ten of KYA’s Official Top Thirty lined up this way: Surfer Girl/Little Deuce Coupe (Beach Boys), My Boyfirend’s Back (Angels), Blue Velvet (Bobby Vinton), Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh (Alan Sherman), Denise (Randy & Rainbows), Maria Elena (Los Indios Tabajaras), Wipe Out (Surfaris), Sally Go Round The Roses (Jaynetts), Be My Baby (Ronettes) If I Had A Hammer (Trini Lopez). I began high school studies in mid-September 1963 full of enthusiasm, ambition and energy. Menlo-Atherton High School seemed like an impersonal mill to me but I tried to make the best of my time there, enrolling in after-school football, trying to meet people. November 22, 1963 I was in Arts/Crafts class. News of JFK’s assasination stunned the whole school into an eerie silence for the rest of the day. To me Kennedy embodied everything that was decent, modern, youthful in society. I’d say I stayed in shock for the rest of the year. In 1964 I was a very sober sophomore, trying to fit in to upper-middle class M-A with my collection of cardigan sweaters, Brougham button-down collar shirts, my white Levis and Black Converse shoes. I may have been resusitated from all this by the sudden invasion of The Beatles, who came from nowhere with six hits that year. Another prolonged smash was Eric Burdon’s rendition of House of the Rising Sun (The Animals). It was Number One for a couple of months (Sep-Aug). I was still listening to a lot of soul, folk music and pop. Radio was international--from Kyu Sakamoto’s (the Bobby Darin of Japan) hit “Sukiyaki” to the French-language “Dominique” by The Singing Nun. As you can probably tell by now, I started collecting Top 30 lists and Song Hit magazines. Of course, the music of the Beatles had everyone captured. Having the Stones as a sly second was not too shabby either. The Castiles came together in Redwood City at the home of Danny Jauregui. There were three Chicanos and two Gringos in the band. We all wore these cool light brown blazers with no lapel. Modesty aside, we were skinny and small but very charp! In the Castiles we played a lot of Ventures (Apache, Walk Don’t Run, Memphis). Mostly instrumentals, there was no strong singer. We did attempt some vocals (Blue Moon, Louie, Louie, Twist & Shout, Farmer John, Heart of Stone, Summertime, What’d I Say, Runaway, and the Kinks’ All Day and All Night). My first original number was an instrumental piece called Meatballs. We had a short-lived manager. Our first gig was at the Redwood City Roller Rink and afterwards, we caught our manager trying to slip away with a big wad of cash that belonged to us--that would be all of fifteen dollars, to be exact! The Castiles died later that year from lack of gigs and interest. Summer before my junior year ex-Castiles bass player Gary Allsebrook called me. He was in a new group and wanted me to try out for it. This band was called the Toads, based about ten miles away, in San Mateo. The group had its own crowd, it had plenty of dates, all I did was further enhance its growing reputation. Moreover, most of the members were working class lads like meself. The Toads enjoyed a great year, playing a lot of places all around San Mateo County. Repertoire included music from Yardbirds, Lovin’ Spoonful, The Byrds, The Animals, The Stones, The Kinks, and The Beatles. We were among the first bands to play Paperback Writer! (To give you an idea of where my chops were, I could do the exact organ solo in Alan Price’s “I Put a Spell on You”) In February 1966 every weekend was booked except the first weekend--I had the flu. The places we played that month were San Mateo YMCA, Burlingame Rec, Longshoreman’s Hall, San Francisco, Redwood City. In April the Chalet at La Honda, Portolla Valley Rec, a Hillsborough party, Lincoln High School, San Francisco, Rickey’s Hyatt in Palo Alto, St Paul’s in Burlingame, no job on the 22nd (my B-day) and the 30th was a capper at the Mt Alvernos Convent (Redwood City), performing free in front of a swinging group of Catholic nuns. The Toads even made it to finalist position in the H. Leibes Battle of the Bands at the Cow Palace (1966), but without any management we would eventually wither away. In 1965-66 I played in other bands, from Atherton (The Soul Survivors) to San Mateo (The Moonrakers). Word was out that I was good. The Toads had died. People called me to play casuals. But it was time to look at my evaporating high school dilemma. I had cut so many high school classes that the Dean of Boys called me in for a meeting. After reciting economic statistics to me (about how Mexicans receive the lowest wages) he then threatened expulsion if I didn't straighten up and "fly right." I knew it was time to settle down. The end of the Toads was actually a blessing in disguise. No more distractions, no more distant girlfriends or hanging out at Hillsdale Mall. Bob Aguirre called me in the Fall of 1966 to join a group in Atherton. They didn't have a name. At first I thought this band was too well-scrubbed for my tastes--too folksy, too middle-class, too simple. Lindsey only knew chords. “What-the-heck,” I thought, “I don’t need any new musical challenges right now.” Anyway, everyone was pleasant, and with the time I adjusted. Our first rehearsals were at the warehouse of Jody Moreing’s dad, who owned a couple of supermarkets. I was happy that rehearsals were so close to home. I wouldn't have to drive so far away. Shortly thereafter, practice was changed to Lindsey's home garage which was also very close. I started meeting some of the people from my own high school. For me, in my senior year this was a novelty. I hardly had any friends at M-A. My best friends there at the time were Paris Bertolucci and Bruce Segal, a very talented musician and a cool artist, respectively. To me, Menlo-Atherton was a rather snooty kind of place. But I knew I had better get serious in my senior year, because as it turned out, I graduated by barely half a credit. I was so ashamed that I had nearly flunked out that for the first time in my life, I took summer courses at the College of San Mateo--Typing I and Introduction to Business. Another great revelation came in June/July of 1968 when I went to my first serious eye exam. It appears I was in dire need of glasses. Doc said I shoulda had them years ago. He was right. Anyway this helped my college grades to improve markedly. My love for music would lead me to take music courses. So much so that (after trying all the other “ologies”) I found my major in music. In college my predilictions for piano music turned increasingly toward Bach and Impressionism, particularly Debussy. What Lindsey and Stevie have said about their own musical upbringing is the best you can get, in terms of musicological study. It is a very tedious but ultimately rewarding job to research and gather documentation in order to describe musical development and formation. We forget to keep it. When we are young we don’t think of those things. I didn’t think of trying to salvage at least one of the two precious hand-made accordions Mr O’Neil left me before he died. Its hard to hang on to tons of posters, flyers, and other historical minutae that may have great value tomorrow but only clutter up your world today. Another fluff question for you (at least it shouldn't cause controversy ;) Can you tell us a little about Stevie & Lindsey's homes? Did Stevie have Beatles posters on her wall? Did Lindsey's brothers or Stevie's little brother Christopher ever listen to you rehearse? Did Stevie have scarves draped over her lamps? Did Lindsey have his trophies displayed in his room? (Tracy G., Stockbridge, GA, USA) Lindsey lived inside Lindenwood (Atherton) and Stevie lived a little west of El Camino near Fair Oaks Lane. The Buckingham house was older, with dark-brown redwood siding around 4 bedrooms, modestly furnished with a large back yard. The Nicks residence was much more stylish. It was a newer home with detached garage and maid quarters (the latter converted into Stevie’s room), I imagine 4-5 rooms overall, but my visits there were infrequent--mostly to pick her up for rehearsals. Stevie’s sunken living room (off to the right from the entering foyer) was plush wall-to-wall white carpeting, and white furnishings so clean you’d hate to sit anywhere and smudge something. That was as far as I got inside. I’ve mentioned before that Stevie’s quarters (small living room, bedroom and bath) were separate, a few paces west of the kitchen. I can imagine the rest of the house was nice too. I’m sorry Tracy, I can’t remember exactly what they had on their walls between 1968 and 1971. Whatever it was I am sure it was not the same thing unchanged for three years. Lindsey’s room was very austere. I remember Stevie’s room being decorated but exactly who graced her walls, its too long ago to tell. Beatles were universally loved, so I guess its safe to include them here somewhere. From time to time we would catch Lindsey’s brothers coming home or stopping by. They were always kind, upbeat. Young Christopher I only saw a couple of times. He would accompany Stevie to some gigs. I don’t remember about scarves over lamps. There were swimming and other trophies displayed prominently at the Buckingham house. The Buckingham garage door had sheetrock on the inside and Linds had used colored chalk to sketch images and other art work all over it. He was very good at drawing. I remember there was a big face and a number of other sketches. I shudder to think of what that siding would be worth today. I think the new owners probably scuttled that sheetrock. You mentioned you met up with Lindsey once in 1980. Was it he that looked you up? If so, did that surprise you that he would look you up? Were you at all hesitant to see him again because of any hard feelings about the band's demise that seeing him might evoke? I guess ultimately I'm wondering if it was a happy occasion to see him again? Thanks. (Les, San Diego, CA, USA) No, he had come to see me in San Carlos around 1978. That visit was a total surprise. He had called from a pay phone, got my new address from the folks and rang to say he was in the neighborhood. Without hesitation I said “Come on by.” He was with Bob then. It was about nine in the evening. It was great to see them both--a blast from the past. Yes, it was a happy occasion. Everything was on a positive note--there were no hard feelings or back issues to dredge. We went to a pub for a coupla beers and talked about what Lindsey had been doing, shared some jokes and mundane things. I learned Bob had been staying with Lindsey, serving as his butler, cook and gopher. From witnessing the dynamic between those two I could sense a very different relationship had evolved. They said they were shopping around the Bay Area for a Beemer. We came back to the house and listened to a cassette Bob had of an Aragon High School concert (San Mateo 1970). After listening to just a few parts of the 90-minute tape they parted. Bob took the cassette. Linds gave me his phone number. I called him in 1980 when I was living in San Francisco and arranged to have him come over for a jam. The understanding was maybe he would consider some original music of mine. This has been discussed elsewhere. You've had some interesting things to say about both the Nicks and the Buckingham parents. What about Lindsey's and Stevie's siblings? Did you get to know (or at least observe) Lindsey's two brothers, or Stevie's brother Chris? Did you notice Chris Nicks taking any sort of active or participatory role in his sister's burgeoning career with Fritz, or was he totally out of the picture? (David O., Los Angeles, CA, USA) I didn’t have much interaction with S&L’s siblings. I observed Greg Buckingham the most. He was a household name after the winning a swimming gold medal in the 1964 Olympic Games in Tokyo. He was a strong, tall, imposing figure, very friendly, and supportive of Lindsey. The eldest Jeff (?--I hope I got that right) wore glasses, was a banker, much more conservative in manner and appearance. He was married and lived apart. We’d see the brothers only once in awhile as they’d come and go. Chris was a 12-13 year-old young man when FRITZ started. On occasion he did accompany Stevie. I wouldn’t say he was active in his sister’s career at this time. You stated that Keith Olsen advised Lindsey & Stevie that they didn't need the rest of the band. Isn't that strange advice? How many duos existed back then? The only act that comes to mind is Sonny and Cher. And you've said Lindsey had not written his own material at that point...why would the record company push for the breakup? (Tracy G., Stockbridge, GA, USA) The record company wasn’t pushing, we were about to negotiate a deal with RCA. Olsen was an independent producer/engineer. What I learned about Keith Olsen’s advice I got here at The Penguin. It would be great to have S&L enlighten us about this particular period. Were their minds made up, or did the encouragement of others make a difference? Yes, I think it was strange advice, but then, the music business is a strange world. Please, don’t ever forget, the rock world is as much about image as it is about music. People who are accountants and engineers make aesthetic decisions about other people’s lives. When we were touring around Southern California the music execs who visited the group talked primarily to Stevie and Lindsey. My music was considered non-commercial, and I’ve said elsewhere that by Hollywood standards, it certainly was non-commercial, therefore no one talked turkey to me. Perhaps my hair was too scruffy, I didn’t use hair spray, or maybe I personally lacked an aura, zero commercial potential. As a Mexican, maybe people assumed that I served only a peripheral role in the band. I think Mr Olsen wanted S&L to front their own band, instead of being part of a collective whole such as FRITZ. Bob, Brian and I were expendable, but S&L were judged to be commercially viable. Besides, its easier to control two than it is a whole ensemble. And regardless of their experience with FM, I would agree somewhat with that assessment. Even if there had never been a FM, S&L could have been ultimately successful as a duo--don’t you agree? They have proven themselves as a duo and as soloists. So why did people advise them thusly? Aesthetic decisions are made everyday by a small number of people who are mostly proficient at crunching numbers. Look at this year’s Fall lineup of television shows. The NAACP has complained this past week that there is no diversity in those programs. One step forward and two steps back. In 1999, doesn’t that sound a little odd? Dr. Pacheco, thanks so much for answering our questions -- this is a rare and exciting chance for us to learn about Fritz and the early careers of Stevie and Lindsey, and we really appreciate your time, sharing, and candor. I have a few questions. The first relates to the role Lindsey played in the band. While you describe him as the mediator and a leader figure, he is also the Bold Narcissus as well. Was Lindsey's attitude inconsistent all the time, or do you think there was a change in his role, due to the growth of his relationship with Stevie, or his growing confidence in his abilities, or his frustration with the bass? More generally, what effect do you think Stevie had on Lindsey, emotionally, musically, etc. and vice versa while in Fritz, and, who was the dominant person in the relationship then? (Lindsey has stated in the press that the end of their relationship and the fact that they continued to work together had a huge impact on him, which he could only put to rest in 1997, so my question sort of wonders whether the "good times" had a good effect). And, in that vein, was their relationship as stormy as it later became in FM, and were there songs (happy or sad) they wrote about each other while in Fritz? Second question area, did you or the other band members notice the harmony of Stevie and Lindsey's voices as being special? Much has been made of it, and I really enjoy their harmonizing with each other and others as well, and that has been a large component of their work in FM and solo. Were vocal harmonies important in the Fritz songs, written by Stevie or anyone else? Last, but not least. You mention astrological signs for Stevie and Lindsey, to explain their relationship with each other, and I was wondering (she says in a smarmy voice), um, what's your sign? And how would you compare your astrological makeup to those of the other bandmembers to explain the dynamics (really, I do believe in this stuff). Phew! That's a lot of questions, any comments would be great. (Anusha, Orchard Park, NY, USA) Hi! Wow, a whole page of questions! Sure you got it all in? Jus’ kidding, thanks for your interest! You have to keep in mind our tender ages at this period! We were not grown mature adults yet. We all lived and breathed in a similar space and time while watching each other grow. The Lindsey I first met was an ex-swimming jock with perky enthusiasms for music. He was simple but sincere. A couple of years later, when I thought maybe he was beginning to be too distant and admire himself too much in the mirror, well, then the song came to me. “Bolder Empress” expressed my concerns over Stevie’s manipulativeness (which I’ll get to a little later here). Songs are like photographs, they relay a moment, they are impressions. When you carve a stone figure, its not reality. Anyway, we did do this number more than once. S&L were not very pleased with it but they liked the music. We played it at least a few months. But it got scraped along with other older songs. I didn’t particularly mind, I also wasn’t about to advocate that the song stay. It was better to spare them any further aggravation. So that’s how that was. Our sets had thematic content in that we would place songs like Bold Narcissus--the proverbial struggles, and victorious end arrives in the culmination of the set with a medley of “get it together” spiritually-inspired songs, just before the finale, “Keep on Running.” So in other words, the set resolves as an “alls well” Tomorrow Come Today (Javier Pacheco) Passing faces, feeling the glow passing ten, hundreds, thousands feeling the glow Now we know faith by numbers that we can’t throw it all away can’t throw it all away let tomorrow come today! Come today! You’ve got to see yourself in the light of the sun You’ve got to see yourself in the light of the sun To see the sun inside you to be the one inside you to see reality to see reality The light you’re seeing is shining in to greet each new day Cuz those tomorrows that your dreamin’ are tomorrows coming today Stars, stars, stars, fill your head but we’re so far baby, we ain’t there yet!” This evolves into a heavy metal passage that ends with a short solo piano intro where Stevie enters by herself, repeating verses (written by Brian) JOY (Brian Kane) “Joy is sought by those who seek to do all good, and those who do gain favor in the midst of oppression whose noise is heard and sounds without among the people of the world come sing my song, and join in hands to sing of the ever-glowing light.” The rest of the band comes in, Lindsey doing the third harmony, and the song grows to a climax. This ends but then the drums start thumping a quiet, gentle beat that grows into a crescendo for the finale number, “Keep on Running.” Therefore, whatever is said and done in that set (and theoretically, I could stick my tongue out at anyone) at the end, we are all just one happy family again, singing about resolution: love, peace, and happiness. Amen, hallelujah! See how it works? We all had to grow as developing musicians. We were all in different species of cocoons when we first met, gradually growing butterfly wings. One develops growing confidence in his abilities and yes of course, this invariably influences the ego. Especially the singers--they get all the attention--it goes right to their heads. Everyone focuses on the guy in front. Forget how dependent he is on the rest of the band. It was also natural that the growth in his relationship with Stevie was going to distance him further from the others. I felt this distance. I know I missed the old Lindsey, it was hard to get any closer to him. I even missed a closer relationship with Stevie. It was like we could no longer be real friends anymore. We were simply being civil toward one another. The early Lindsey had been quite the pioneer, stretching out in every way, vocals, guitar, bass. I forgot to mention, he sometimes tinkled away on a keyboard, if there was one nearby, or if mine was around. He started picking up chords. When Lindsey and Stevie first became serious about each other, I thought they’d also become somewhat obsessive. I used the other word earlier, reclusive, more private. Yes I think the dominant person in the relationship then was Stevie. She was a charmer, she knew how to win you over. When she wanted something bad, it was the high-pitched little “Teevee” voice. When she meant business the voice dropped down an octave. She was certainly more of a woman than Sally Durbin, emotionally speaking. This maturity plus age (one year older) gave her the edge. Musically, I don’t think Stevie was influential at first. Besides, they hadn’t started composing together yet. I am sure she held sway when it involved matters of arranging a particular set list, the order of songs. Sets were organized with attention given to alternating singers, major/minor keys, slow/fast, soft/hard, difficult/easy, old/new material. Stevie and Lindsey didn’t write about each other while in Fritz. S&L songs came after Fritz. As a couple they maybe had a couple of rough times, but nothing noteworthy. I really couldn’t say whether their relationship was stormy in 1970. It didn’t seem like it to me. As far as the vocals--Stevie and Lindsey together, I think it was in the ballad, “Georgia” (Ray Charles) that I first realized this. That song became the second-to-the last vocal highlight of the evening on many, many dates. Oh, but I realized there was a chemistry between their two voices early on. Could’ve started when Lindsey sang unison with Stevie, reinforcing her in weak spots. Sometimes they worked out parts live on the stage. It was just a matter of time that this would happen. That’s one of the great things about being with a group of musicians working together over time. You get used to the other person’s nuances, moods, inflections, etc, you are even able to anticipate the other at times. By the first year (1967-68) Stevie had developed her own style for each song she tackled. Lindsey learned to control his vibrato more and also stretched himself tremendously as a vocalist. Lindsey and Stevie comprised the sound of Fritz. After they left it didn’t make any sense to replace them. You couldn’t replace them and call it the same thing. Its not the same thing. We all admired big Beach Boy, Brian Wilson and worked assiduously to add three-part harmonies to songs whenever possible. Brian Kane could even help with vocals, so we could have up to four voices, or three on chorus and one lead. As the composer of the time yes, I did feel vocal harmonies were very important in the Fritz songs. Hello. This was a great strength of ours. There were rock bands that only had one decent singer. We had two. I was satisfied at the way Stevie and Lindsey handled my songs. They poured their hearts into it and sang expressively. The first demo we did in (mentioned earlier, in San Mateo) was Jackie De Shannon’s “What the World Needs Now Is Love, Sweet Love.” The three of us sang that. I mean, we tried to utilize as much of our voices as possible. A composer writes according to what is available. I knew if Stevie couldn’t do the song, there was a chance Lindsey... singer I really didn’t start investigating Astrology until way after Fritz. Can’t give you an honest interpretation. I am a Taurus (April 22) close to the cusp of Aries. About all I know is that Gemini and Libra are supposed to be compatible because I read it somewhere. Oh, and I know another friend (female Gemini) who lived with a Libra (male) and they are both poet/writers (artists). I recall their three-year trist was stormy and came to a crash landing. But I think I will refrain from making any astrological speculations about S&L. I remember Bob is a Capricorn. Forgot Brian’s sign. I saw myself as the builder of the foundations of the house. You would have to ask the other bandmembers to explain how they saw themselves.
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