by Greg Lake
In fact, the European approach gave us so much space and freedom we overdosed on overdubs. When we came to perform Trilogy live, it was difficult to replicate what we had done in the studio. This is why a number of tracks on Trilogy, such as ‘Abaddon’s Bolero’ and ‘The Endless Enigma’, were rarely performed live. I lost count of how many overdubs we put on ‘Abaddon’s Bolero’, and in order to try and recreate it live I had to add to Keith’s keyboards by playing a Moog and a Mellotron, but it didn’t really work. We decided that on the next album we made, we would make sure that we could perform it live.
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With the recording of Trilogy completed early in 1972, our third tour of the United States commenced in March 1972. By this time ELP was fast becoming a very successful arena-selling act – the stage show was getting even more theatrical, with innovative lighting and pyrotechnics, and Carl’s drum kit seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. So high was the demand for tickets that we would often find ourselves playing two separate arenas back to back on consecutive nights in the same area, as happened when we began this leg of the tour on 22 March at Long Beach Arena, California, followed on the 23rd by the Civic Auditorium in nearby Santa Monica.
Every time we would sell out an arena, Dee’s face would light up with his incredible Italian smile and he would quote this old saying that had apparently come from his early days managing Tony Bennett: ‘When you’re hot, you’re hot and when you’re not, you’re not!’
At the time, I was never quite sure what message this was really meant to convey other than perhaps one of gratitude and acceptance of the fact that, no matter how much we would like to think we control all the events that make up our lives, more often than not it is destiny that determines our fate.
Later on, however, I did come to discover that there was a very precious little pearl of wisdom contained in this expression: this was the fact that many artists go through various stages in their careers – times when they are particularly popular and times when they are not – and the advice is basically that, when you are going through a low point in your career, it is far better simply to accept it with good grace, keep your head down and work hard until things improve. It’s no good trying to pretend that you are on fire and at the top of your game when the whole world thinks that you are not.
By this time, we were no longer playing ‘The Barbarian’, but launching into the shows with ‘Hoedown’. ‘Take a Pebble’ and ‘Lucky Man’ from the first album were still regular features, though, alongside ‘Pictures’, ‘Tarkus’, ‘Rondo’ and material from the new album.
One of the most memorable shows we performed on this tour of the USA was the Mar y Sol Festival on 2 April 1972 in Vega Baja, Puerto Rico. Along with ELP, the festival featured the Allman Brothers, the Mahavishnu Orchestra with John McLaughlin, B. B. King, the Faces and many others.
My first recollection of this festival was landing at the airport in Puerto Rico and feeling the incredible intensity of the tropical sun as we disembarked from the plane. As they opened the cabin doors, the first blast of heat almost took my breath away. It was so strange to step down on to the runway and feel the soft tarmac beginning to melt gently as it gave way beneath my feet. This was the first time I really understood just how easy it would be for someone to die from exposure to that type of intense sunshine.
After a short journey by car, we reached the hotel where we would be staying during our performance at the festival. Immediately upon walking into the tropical waterfall-themed lobby, it was clear that the entire hotel had been taken over by the festival promoters in order to accommodate all of the artists that were performing there. It felt almost as if we had just been transported into one of those dreadful Elvis films made in Hawaii.
We had endured a really long day travelling all the way down from New York, so by the time we had finished checking in we decided that, rather than going to join all the revellers down in the Tiki lounge, we would probably be better off just going to our rooms and preparing for the following day, when we were due to perform.
We spent most of the next day just lounging around the hotel and waiting for our departure slot to be called. We were originally supposed to go on stage to perform at eight o’clock in the evening but, as with most festivals, it was anyone’s guess as to what would actually happen.
All through the day, helicopters were flying in and out of the hotel grounds, shuttling artists to and from the festival. It almost began to feel like one of those evacuation scenes from the war in Vietnam, with everyone scrambling to get on the chopper and then all the dust and leaves blowing as it took off. The whole thing would happen in reverse as the acts arrived back after performing.
Throughout the day, we would have periodical meetings in Dee’s room to see if there were any updates regarding our departure time but, as the day progressed, it became clear to us that there were some quite serious problems occurring behind the scenes.
I believe that for one reason or another the original promoter had gone bust and the whole festival had now been taken over by a completely new promoter. Fleetwood Mac and a couple of other bands had dropped out. Later in the festival, Black Sabbath also failed to appear solely because there were not enough helicopters to get them to the site in time to perform.
As always, Dee made light of the situation and just kept smiling throughout. Eventually, as the day passed, it also became clear that our performance time was being put back later and later. First, it was moved to nine-thirty, and then to eleven o’clock. At this point we all began to wonder if we would actually get to play at all.
Once again Dee went off to meet with the promoters and eventually came back and told us that we now had a firm departure time. We would fly out at midnight and start to perform at 1 a.m. We were obviously quite stunned to hear that we would be going on so late, but Dee assured us that everything would be okay and that we should just go on and do a great show. Finally, the time came for us to depart and we gathered in the garden room waiting for the helicopters to land.
After a few minutes, the lights from the choppers appeared above the hotel and they began to descend into the grounds, first one, then two, and then a third landed all incredibly close together. After the incoming passengers had cleared, we were directed to keep our heads down and run over to get on board the helicopters. As soon as we were all aboard, we took off and were on our way to the festival site. On our way over, I asked the pilot about his job and how long he had been flying helicopters and he told me that he had recently finished his career in the US Army as a medevac pilot with the Eagle Dustoff unit in Vietnam. Little did I know that he was about to demonstrate his phenomenal acrobatic flying capabilities just a few moments later when we plunged out of the sky like a stone to land only a matter of yards behind the stage area where we were about to perform.
The whole thing reminded me of when King Crimson played the Palm Beach Festival back in 1969 and the comparisons were about to get stronger. As we disembarked, I noticed there was a group of people waiting to board the choppers we had just arrived in, and from the corner of my eye I saw that there were a few people carrying a stretcher. At first I thought that someone had perhaps been taken ill – like the man who had been bitten by a rattlesnake at Palm Beach – but this was worse. I noticed that the head of the body lying on the stretcher was completely covered by a blanket.
As soon as we were clear of the landing ground, I asked the backstage manager what had happened and he explained that a young boy had apparently been found dead with his throat cut. He suspected that it was some drug deal that had gone wrong.
We were then taken to a couple of mobile dressing-room trailers where we could rest up until it was time for us to perform. As always, I took a little walk over to the backstage area just to say hello to the road crew and check that everyone was in good shape and ready for the show. As soon as I arrived, one of the crew came over to me looking quite shaken and told me that it was absolute chaos and that someone had appare
ntly just killed a rattlesnake right beneath the stage. Clearly this was not turning out to be one of those ‘peace and love’ events we had come to know in recent years but more of a horror film where God knows what is going to happen next.
Show time eventually came and we went out on stage to perform. As we began to play, I could immediately feel this incredible heat running right down the left side of my body. I didn’t have time to check it out at first and continued playing, but as the seconds passed it just grew hotter and hotter. Eventually I glanced to my left to see that there was smoke starting to rise from the sleeve of my velvet jacket. Apparently some lunatic had erected a massive, high-powered, military searchlight on the left-hand side of the stage, which projected a sharp focus beam right at me. The sheer power of this lamp at such a close range was enough to start a fire, and that was exactly what had happened to the sleeve of my jacket. I screamed at the crew to turn it off and, mercifully, someone eventually saw what was happening and shut it down.
The Mar y Sol festival was recorded live and a record featuring excerpts from some of the live sets, including ours, was released later in 1972. Many years later, we found the entire sixteen-track tapes of our set, which included ‘Tarkus’ and ‘Pictures at an Exhibition’, and released it as a live album. The Mar y Sol Festival may have been a bit of a disaster, and an arrest warrant was apparently issued for the promoter, but we still performed at our best despite my clothing being set on fire.
Mar y Sol wasn’t to be the last of festival fiascos that ELP were to experience. In the meantime, the final show on the North American leg of the tour was performed on 28 April 1972 at the Forum in Montreal. ELP were always treated like family by the people of Montreal and even to this day, when I visit there and stop by the Forum to see another artist performing, the union stagehands all stop to shake my hand and exchange memories of some of the great shows we have all played together.
After departing Montreal, we embarked on a short run of European dates in Germany, Italy, Denmark, Switzerland and Austria, which ran from 4 June through to 27 June 1972, and returned to the United States to appear together with Rod Stewart and the Faces, Humble Pie, J. Geils, and Three Dog Night at the Pocono International Raceway Festival in Pennsylvania on 8–9 July 1972.
Some people have referred to the Pocono International Raceway Festival as another Woodstock-type event, but if ever the word fiasco could be applied to a rock concert, this would definitely be the one. Security consisted of 300 hired hands, and 65 people from the Lackawanna County drug council were there, too, to deal with people who had adverse drug reactions, i.e. bad trips. In preparation for the worst, a field hospital was staffed by six physicians and eight fully trained nurses.
On 9 July, it had apparently rained on and off throughout the day and by the time we walked out on stage to perform, we were greeted by the sight of 200,000 people sitting in one huge field of mud. It was another event where the best way to describe the scene was ‘truly biblical’, but not in a good way: it looked like the belated eleventh Plague of Egypt.
I remember the promoters had commandeered a small Holiday Inn near to the festival site to act as dressing rooms for the bands who were about to perform.
As each band was called, some four-wheel-drive vehicles would be sent around to transport the band through the mud to the backstage area. They would literally be dropped off right at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the stage. In an attempt to avoid the delays and overruns that had hit other festivals, two stages were set up at this festival so that as one band performed the other would be making ready and setting up their equipment.
ELP had a couple of interconnecting rooms back at the Holiday Inn, where we sat waiting for our turn to go on. Every so often the phone would ring and we would be updated regarding the progress of the show and the time when we would likely be called.
Once again, the phone rang and Dee picked up the call. This time the organisers seemed to be discussing the weather as they had just received a forecast that, in a little over two hours’ time, a fog would descend upon the entire festival site. The prediction was that this fog would be so dense that you would literally not be able to see your hand in front of your face.
Rod Stewart and the Faces were supposed to be the last act to perform, and ELP were scheduled to go on just before them. As soon as Dee received the news about the weather, he became extremely alert and told everyone to move fast and get on stage as soon as we possibly could. Dee was clearly aware of the implications once the fog had descended: in all probability, any act caught out by the fog would either be cancelled or they would have to return the following day to perform.
Dee was an extremely bright manager and I am sure he was already sensing that Rod and the Faces manager would also be aware of the situation: even though ELP were booked to go on first, there was more than a strong possibility that a race would develop between the two acts to try and get on stage as soon as they possibly could.
Within a couple of minutes, the four-wheel-drive trucks had arrived to pick us up and we were on our way to the backstage area. As we were bouncing through the mud, Dee explained that as soon as we reached the stage we should immediately go up and start playing, and not to waste any time at all sound checking and so on.
The moment we drew up at the stage, we were bundled up the steps and literally pushed out onstage behind the equipment. Dee had also come up on to the stage with us, just to make sure that everything started up as fast as it possibly could.
As always, there were a few moments just before we started to play when the road crew made their final checks to make sure everything was as it should be. Just as this was happening, I glanced down over the back of the stage and saw more vehicles arriving.
The next thing I heard was Dee’s voice calling out for us to start playing and, just as he said these words, I saw the doors of the vehicles suddenly swing open and Rod and the Faces falling out in a big heap, face-down into the mud. They had obviously been enjoying a few light beverages before their call to duty and by the time they arrived they were clearly the worse for wear.
Simultaneously, the spotlights hit the stage and Keith opened up with the Moog and the ELP show began. Even though ELP were an extremely loud band, I could still detect some noisy commotion going on just behind the equipment. I was later told that the Faces manager had come on to the ELP stage to try and pull the power. Dee’s version of what happened involved him hitting the manager and knocking him right off the back of the stage.
Apparently when this was happening, Rod had got up on the number-two stage and was trying to start the Faces show off by himself. Luckily for us, the PA and lights were already being used on our stage and eventually Rod was forced to climb back down and allow ELP to continue their show.
At the end of the performance, I looked out at the audience as we took our bow and could only see only ten or twenty feet into the crowd. The fog had now arrived, just as the organisers said it would, and visibility was fast closing in on zero. I am not sure whether Rod and the Faces ever did get to perform, but we were glad to have done the show and also very proud of Dee Anthony for everything he did to look after us.
Sadly, this was the end of Dee Anthony managing ELP in North America – he stopped after our shows in 1972. He was not only a great friend but was also a world-class manager who taught me so much about the United States and about being a performer. I will always miss him. May his soul rest in peace.
CHAPTER 9
The Rising Sun
We had all seen the reaction the Beatles had received when they played in Japan in 1966, and even then it was clear that the Japanese public was fast developing an appetite for Western rock music. Whether or not ELP would enjoy a similar reaction in July 1972 was, of course, a completely different matter so for us it really was an adventure into the unknown.
Since the early 1970s, Japan has opened up and become far more Westernised, but back then Japan’s cultural identity still seemed to be defined by
stereotypes that pointed to a strongly male-dominated society. On the street, you would often see ladies dressed in formal kimonos walking along behind their husbands in a very demure way, maintaining a respectful distance.
I will always remember a story that was told to me by one of the ELP road crew about an incident involving a young Japanese female production assistant who had apparently been asked to organise some hamburgers for the crew’s lunch.
The road crew had asked this young lady if it would be possible get some burgers from the then newly established McDonald’s in Tokyo. Although this young woman had previously been very helpful, on this particular occasion she seemed strangely reluctant. The ELP production manager asked her if there was a problem, but she was unable to explain and eventually left to pick up the burgers.
Almost two hours passed before she eventually returned, by which time everyone was dying of hunger. When asked why she had taken so long, a Japanese translator explained that when the woman had gone to McDonald’s she had apparently been served by a male assistant who, upon hearing her request for thirty hamburgers, immediately sent her to the back of the queue. She was told to wait there until he was ready to serve her.
The translator then went on to explain how, in order for her to eventually get served, the production assistant had to express to the male manager how sorry she was for making such an unreasonable request and that she realised that she was basically a stupid girl and that she would be eternally grateful for his generous indulgence.
In other words, in order to get served some hamburgers she had had to demean herself in front of him. She had known this would happen, which was why she was so reluctant to go in the first place.
I very much like and respect the Japanese people but even today there is no question that it does take a little while for a Western person to tune in and fully appreciate how different our two cultures actually are. Honour, politeness, simplicity and a respect for social order are all viewed through a very different prism to the way we view things in the West.
