- The Band- Sir Douglas Quintet
- Place – Mill Valley San Francisco
- Time – 1982
- Rehearsal Studio
On arriving at my motel
I was informed that there was no reservation made for me and that they were heavily booked.
Demoralized and in desperate need of a shower, food and sleep, I pleaded with the receptionist. I begged her for a room and after a long wait she finally found one.
I entered the room, collapsed on the bed and passed out until the next day. I had arrived a couple of days before the band to adjust to the time change.
A Friendly Face
On day two as I was sitting in the motel restaurant feeling quite lonely, I saw through the glass window the silhouette of a large figure wearing a cowboy hat. To my delight it was Augie Meyers.
Augie didn’t fly in those days, due to a recurring dream he had about dying in a plane crash, so he had just arrived on a Greyhound bus from New York.
He sat down and ordered a meal and I told him all about my bad luck with the customs, the car and the hotel.
Augie then proceeded to tell me a story about some good luck he had just had as he was leaving New York.
“Kenny I was on the way to get the bus and went into a new snack bar which had just opened called Aim To Please, If you could order a sandwich they couldn’t make in two minutes they would give you fifty bucks, so I ordered an Elephant’s ear on rye.”
After two minutes the guy came out and said, “Sir I’m sorry we can’t do your order for you, here’s your fifty bucks.”
In astonishment I said, “Augie that’s great.”
He replied, “Yeah they were all out of rye.”
It was great to be spending time with him again.
The band Arrive
Doug Sahm and the rest of the band arrived with the exception of the drummer Dougie Clifford; we had the rehearsal studio booked for the coming Saturday and Sunday.
The recording studio was booked for the following five days to cut the album. I would then return to the UK with the finished recordings to mix the songs ready for release.
The rehearsal studio
We arrived at the rehearsal studio at around 11am and It soon became apparent that there was nothing to rehearse. Everyone just sat around smoking grass and chatting.
As the day went on, I got the feeling Doug thought I was there to be his runner.
Doug said to me “Kenny, go get me a coke from the machine.”
I brought him back a Dr Pepper as it was the only drink available.
“What the fuck is this man? I wanted a coke.” Doug shouted.
I told him, “That’s all there was.”
“Well go and get me a coke from somewhere else.”
Not wanting to run around town looking for a can of coke I said,
“I don’t know the area well enough I won’t be able to find my way back, so it’s Dr Pepper or nothing.”
He was not happy.
Chatting with wacky-backy
Around 4 o’clock everybody had been smoking and shooting the breeze all day long so I thought I should join them and have a hit on the wacky-backy.
I took one puff, within thirty seconds I couldn’t feel my arms or legs and my head was spinning like a roulette wheel.
I then went into panic mode, praying nobody would ask me anything about anything. I wondered if I would be able to make it to the nearest chair.
I staggered almost unconsciously into a dark corner and sat marvelling at how anyone of them could stand up, let alone hold a conversation.
Lets try again tomorrow
Around 6.30pm, as my numbness was starting to recede, Dougie Clifford arrived and began to set up his drums. It was decided we would continue the next day.
A very upset drummer
Doug Sahm said, “Let’s all go to Fisherman’s Wharf and eat.”
Clifford told Doug that he had five grand in cash so he would like to go to the hotel first so he could check in, and put his money in the hotel safe.
Doug decided he would ride with me, he said he knew a shortcut back to the hotel. Clifford not knowing where we were staying followed us with the rest of the band in his truck.
Following Sahm’s instructions we ended up in a cul-de-sac.
Clifford got out of his truck shouting at me,
“What the fuck are we doing here.”
“I just followed his directions,” I replied, pointing at Doug.
Doug calmly got out of the car and said,
‘Well, we are at Fisherman’s Wharf, let’s eat.”
Plainly this was his plan all along.
The shambles continues
The Sunday was much the same shambles as the Saturday, nobody seemed to care about the album we were about to make, we had no material except for a couple of covers of old songs.
Doug said he was still writing material, one of which ironically was entitled Let’s Don’t Waste A Minute.
I was finding Doug more detestable by the minute and was incensed with him treating me like his lackey, he didn’t ask me to do things for him but ordered me to do them.
Augie Meyers Different Fur Studio 1983
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