I got to see Al afterwards and his conversation ran to such things as the writing of "I Can't Quit Her"; Clive Davis (one very funny line); writing with Bob Brass and Irwin Levine; and what the Knickerbockers and Bob Dylan's 1965 Hollywood Bowl show have to do with the writing of the Dean Ford & The Gaylords gem "He's a Good Face (But He's Down and Out)."

Of course, I would love to share all these stories with you before they vanish from my no-longer-photographic memory. But I need a little audience encouragement here. It takes a lot of effort to write this blog, and I only hear from a small percentage of the 70 people who read it each day. So, if you'd like to hear "The Rest of the Story," as Paul Harvey would say, please e-mail me to let me know [address at left], and if I hear from three readers, either friends or strangers, I'll finish this post.
UPDATE, 7/19/03, 11:23 p.m.: I am impressed. Even on a Saturday, it took less than 10 hours for three readers, all of them friends of mine, to cast their "yes" votes: Richard J. Stuart, Michael Lynch, and Kevin Walsh—thank you all. I particularly liked Rick's request: "What is the point in tuning into The Dawn Patrol....if we don't get to hear all kinds of cool stories about musicians? Caren has the 'got up, put on clothes, went to work' thing covered."

It'd still be nice to hear from a lurker, so, if you read this regularly and don't know me personally, please drop a line and let me know if you'd enjoy reading stories like the ones I'm about to relate [e-mail address at left]. Not that it's every day I hear ones like I did last night....OK, with no further ado, here we go, playing your requests—in point form, no less:

"I Can't Quit Her": Something in the conversation reminded Al of how he was the first person to use the word "proselytized" in a rock song. He recalled how he was in L.A. in 1964—I wanted to interrupt him here, but waited until he'd finished the anecdote—and was in a publisher's office in the 9000 building. He said that building was to L.A. what the 1650 (Broadway) building was to New York—that is, the place where the music-publishing action was. (There's a whole body of literature about how 1650 Broadway was home to most of what people erroneously call "Brill Building" [1619 Broadway] music.)

Anyway, Al said that, after writing, "She had a woman's touch and a young girl's eyes, and in seconds flat I was proselytized," he had to get up and search for a dictionary. The word "proselytized" emerged from his desire to avoid the obvious rhyme of "hypnotized," but he didn't consciously know what it meant. When he did find a dictionary, he was elated to discover that it perfectly captured the meaning he wanted.

You've probably guessed that the reason I wanted to interrupt Al when he said 1964 is because "I Can't Quit Her" didn't see the light of day until Kooper included it on Blood, Sweat & Tears first album, Child Is Father to the Man. I asked him why he never recorded it with the Blues Project. I don't remember his exact words, but he basically said it was beyond their scope. I think he meant in terms of technical ability, but it could be that he meant in terms of style, or both.

Last Fight: Robben Ford's drummer, an excellent player whose name I unfortunately can't remember, told a story backstage about when he played the Bottom Line about 10 years ago with Jude Cole. Cole's road manager—whose name was, I think, Tom Leffler [or Loeffler?]—was a weary survivor from the Sixties [the drummer said he'd been a road manager for the Beatles, though I thought that was Mal Evans and Neil Aspinall's job], and was on his last legs—he'd just received a diagnosis of terminal cancer.

On the night of the Jude Cole show, the drummer went on, the band's first set was running late, so the Bottom Line uncharacteristically cut them off, turning the lights up to get the crowd out in time for the second show. The confused and angry band went backstage, where Leffler proceeded to attack the first club employee he saw—a powerfully built 25-year-old bouncer. The drummer said Leffler kicked the poor guy in the teeth, pulled his hair, and just pummeled him. A week later, Leffler died at 61.

"I guess," the drummer concluded, "it was his last fight."

There was a moment's silence. Then Al said, "If I could have a last fight, it would be with Clive Davis."

Brass, Levine, "He's a Good Face": As I raved to Al about the lyrics of "The Water Is Over My Head," a great song he and Irwin Levine wrote that was recorded by the Tokens and then, definitively, the Rockin' Berries, he told me that, contrary to what I'd thought, he not only wrote the melodies to the songs he wrote with Levine, but also collaborated on lyrics. He said that the only times he stuck to the melody were when Bob Brass wrote with them (as with "This Diamond Ring"), in which cases Brass and Levine wrote the lyrics. (By the way,I just checked the BMI Web site and learned that Kooper-Brass-Levine actually wrote an answer song to "This Diamond Ring": "Gary, Please Don't Sell My Diamond Ring.")

I also complimented Al on "He's a Good Face (But He's Down and Out)" which was, as far as I know, recorded only by Dean Ford & The Gaylords, who later became Marmalade. He proceeded to tell me the story behind it. I can't get over how well he can recall the writing of even his most obscure tunes.