Gilby Clarke and Other Confessions

Confession: I've never seen Rockstar. I've never seen American Idol. I stopped listening to new recordings around June of 1972. (That's a slight exaggeration but mostly true.) About a month ago Howard Benson's wife asked me to submit a song for Chris Daughtry. Which I did, believe you me. (The record company passed) I think Monica Benson was sending me some love because it had been quite a stretch between paying gigs. Q U I T E. Another confession? I've never written lyrics. (I know, besides 'Show Don't Tell' you ought to know your audience. But how could I say no?) I've written music, but never lyrics. This was the rejected first verse. (Copy Right 2006)

Said the moth to the star, I found you.
Like a firefly in a jar, I let you go
Into my dreams of shadows and blue
While gypsies dance our love follows.
I don't know why these doors open and close but I am grateful. When you're awake nights on end worried about money that kind of thing really brightens your day. (Hence the donation link and Amazon Store) My bet is that Gilby and his wife Daniella used to worry about money. That was when they lived across the street from us in a two bedroom rented house where their side yard was an alley. When Daniella used to have a boatload of denim piled high on tables in her garage. We knew the Clarkes back then. It was after Guns and Roses and years before the empire of Frankie B.

Gilby had his bike, a truck and a GnR pinball machine in the living room. The den was his recording studio. (And when I say recording studio I'm talking about a rig an 18 year old kid might afford.) Back when Frankie, their sweet as pie daughter would play with our daughter. Back when Gilby would walk across the street, plug his guitar into my Pro Tools and lay down an awesome solo on a track I'd written. Bing-Bang could he play. Three takes and he's having a Home Made Meatball sandwich I made from the Raos Cook Book. Gilby's picture was on the front of The Guitar Center on Sunset Blvd and you'd think he was some cool looking Gas Station Attendant with nothing better to do but play his guitar in his spare time. He was THAT normal.

It wasn't long before Frankie B started to take off. And I mean take off. I've never seen anything like it. Daniella worked (and still does) non stop. She was the neighbor with the body that made the hood women uncomfortable. The story goes that she was a GnR groupie and the two fell in love. I'll never forget a Christmas Party she threw. Frankie B was partially off the ground. Gilby was still writing and playing in local blues clubs. They were still in that rented house. Now Christmas in California can be a lot like Christmas in Hawaii. The weather never changes. The Clarke house was loaded with kids and famous rockers and the rest of us. Around 7 pm a truck pulled up to the front of their house. Daniella had rented a snow machine. In ten minutes their front yard, full of snow, looked like a surreal postcard. All the kids from the party came outside and played like it was Connecticut. Snowballs flew and everybody had a terrific time.

By now maybe you're waiting for me to drop the other shoe and tell you how much they've changed. Guess what? They are still the same sweet as pie family, only living in a bigger house. A much bigger house. And by the way. That guitar in my daughter's hands . Gilby gave it to me in the days I knew him when.

Technorati Tags:
Guitar Center, Gilby Clarke, Frankie B, Raos, Chris Daughtry, Howard Benson