Let's Spend the Night Together: Backstage Secrets of Rock Muses and Supergroupies (35 page)

Slow Dazzle

few years ago I was invited to speak as part of the firstever groupie panel at Austin's annual South by Southwest Music Conference by the queen bee of Austin's mind-blowing music scene, Margaret Moser. It was one of the best-attended panels that year, and we had an unbridled blast enlightening the industry hipsters about the tricks and trials of groupiedom. Margaret and I hit it off like we'd been hanging out for decades.

When she invited me to another groupie panel at the ROCKRGRL Music Conference in Seattle, we crazy-glued our bond and also got to swap sensuous tidbits with Penny Trumbull, formerly Pennie Lane, founder of Portland's Flying Garter Girls.

A few years younger than me, Margaret used the GTO's as role models when she pulled together a group of love-minded, music-blinded dolls to create the Texas Blondes. They became notorious in no time, and although their reign lasted barely three years, the comely clique made an enduring impression.

I've been enjoying Austin since that first groupie panel, and this honest-to-god music city has become one of my homes away from home. I've made lots of friends, including Margaret's flamboyant younger brother, Stephen, who writes the uninhibited style column for the Austin Chronicle.

Margaret has been married a couple of times, and is now happily in love with Burnin' Mike Vernon, guitarist in one of Austin's most revered bands, 3 Balls of Fire. It's SXSW time again, and in between our absurdly chaotic schedules (checking out hot bands), I somehow finagle a chatty hour alone with her over plates of spicy Mexican food. She is a senior staff writer at the Chronicle, and for over twenty years has produced the prestigious Austin Music Awards. Just last night she inducted the cult band the 13th Floor Elevators into the Austin Hall of Fame.

"I come from a literary background that encouraged reading of all kinds," Margaret tells me, dipping chips into fresh salsa. "I'm the one who read the cereal box at the breakfast table. I read anything, but also read between the lines. Not just people being written about, but the ones doing the writing. I remember being in eighth grade, looking at Janis Joplin's 45, `Down On Me.' The song on the flip side was called `Bye-Bye Baby' by Powell St. John. I had no idea who that was, but the name stuck in my mind. I read music labels the way other girls didn't. `What does producer mean? Who are these people on the liner notes?' So to induct Powell St. John as part of the Elevators-and remember looking at that Joplin label-it was full circle for me."

How did Margaret go from reading about the music world to being in the thick of it? "You didn't have a lot of options in San Antonio; even kids who liked the Monkees didn't care who was writing the songs. Could N. Diamond who wrote `I'm a Believer' be the same Neil Diamond my mother listens to? Are C. King and G. Goffin the same people writing those girl-group records? I was connecting the information, but it wasn't going anywhere because I didn't have kindred spirits. But when I picked up the Rolling Stone groupie issue, I thought, `Yeah, hey! This is what I wanna do!' I didn't have the sense that groupies were sluts-they looked like glamorous, fun-loving young women to me. I felt like an outcast, so it was a way to distinguish myself and be somebody on my own. I'd go back to school after a show, and think, `Ha ha, you jackasses paid five bucks for a concert last night, and I was backstage.' My first experience emulating the GTO's was in '71. I made baby-doll outfits with my girlfriends, with hands sewn over the breasts. I was putting together my first written collection called `The Groupie Papers,' and I reviewed records, but didn't know how to get them published. I didn't have the guy mentality like Cameron Crowe. So groupiedom was my way in, my entree. I went in on my knees and kept my eyes wide open."

I always enjoy finding out how it all began. "The first time I weaseled my way backstage was for Joe Cocker's Mad Dogs and Englishmen. I just nosed around, and the bug bit me. The first musician I slept with was Norman Mayell, who was drumming for Blue Cheer. The next thing I remember was a concert with Badfinger, Leon Russell, and Quicksilver. We were hanging over the backstage waving at the guys, letting them look up our dresses. I ended up sleeping with John Galley who played keyboards with Leon Russell-I've always had it bad for keyboard and bass players. Then I was with Robert Cardwell from Mother Earth. He was my first experience with cocaine and a big dick, and that notched the whole thing up. I'd get there around three P.M. for Jethro Tull or John Mayall's sound check and weasel my way backstage and wind up with somebody!"

At sixteen, Margaret fell in love with Gary Kellaher, an eighteen-year-old like-minded music lover, and after moving around, they wound up in Austin in 1973. "Willie Nelson just had his first picnic; ZZ Top had the Barn Dance, and this was a dope-smokin' hippie haven. We were home! And there were all these young, upcoming musicians, including a set of brothers: Jimmie Vaughan and his younger brother, Stevie Ray. I started gearing more toward the blues, hanging out with all the blues musicians.

By spring 1976, Margaret was freewheelin' again and looking for her own creative outlet. "I picked up the local underground newspaper and they were looking for somebody to clean the office, and I thought, `That's for me!' I started tidying up and answering phones at the Austin Sun, and the first thing I did was nose around the music department. There was a new column called Backstage. We were at a staff meeting and the editor asked, `What's gonna be in Backstage this week?' Nobody said anything, so I said, `I know Randy California from Spirit. I can get an interview with him.'"

Although she had only met Spirit's singer once, Margaret was tight with the owners of the Armadillo club. "It was the cultural center of Austin's hip community, and I could sail backstage anytime I wanted to. People like Waylon Jennings and Gram Parsons played there. Spirit did a show, and I got the job to interview Randy California. I hadn't a clue as to what I was doing. I took some notes with me and he was so hot-I remember how sexy he was-and he said, `Do you wanna do the interview back at the hotel?' I said `Sure!' We ended up in the bathtub, and later I sat on the toilet in my underwear, interviewing him for the Sun. The sex was pretty quick-I'm sure there was cocaine involved-but I do remember him sinking down in that huge bathtub, his beautiful, curly hair all wet over his shoulders. I did my little interview, which I didn't fact-check, and messed up the name of his label. But I turned it in and they printed it. That was my way in, and I made myself fairly indispensable at the paper. I was just starting my writing career and Rolling Thunder came to town. What a zoo! I took a cab to the Driscoll and the party was in full swing. I was dressed to the nines, walking up the marble staircase, and down the stairs comes Bob Dylan. He was so handsome, and he was Bob Dylan. He smiled at me, took my hand, and said, `Nice to meet you. Hope I see you later.' I was just as high as could be-I don't think I've ever been higher; there was cocaine flying around like crazy. Everybody was in and out of the bathroom, so I walked in there and ran into Mick Ronson. He grabbed me, pulled my dress up, and was fucking me within thirty seconds. I hardly knew who Mick Ronson was, except that he was really handsome: I wasn't into Bowie, but I liked this guy's accent and he sure was cute. So I wrapped my legs around him and we went at it."

I know Margaret still frequents Austin's divine Driscoll Hotel. Does she ever walk by the restroom and recall that decadent night? "I was there in November with John Cale, laughing my ass off about it. I was in that bathroom with Mick Ronson for twenty minutes, having sex and snorting coke. Afterward, I went into one of the bedrooms and saw Roger McGuinn. He was wearing a big belt buckle covered with rhinestones-it had to have been the size of your tape recorder-and I was dazzled by it. I was wearing one of those '70s dresses, made of Nyestra- shiny, clingy polyester that snagged on anything. I was staring at Roger because I thought he was so handsome. He was sitting on the bed and I was standing up, and he grabbed me and started kissing my breasts. I said, `You've been a hero of mine since seventh grade,' and he said, `How old were you in seventh grade?' I said, `Oh, eleven or twelve,' and he said, `Did you have to wear a school uniform?' I thought, `Maybe he'd like me to wear anklets and black patent leather shoes too.' I was completely entranced, and next thing I knew we were in the bathroom and-yes, I know, sloppy seconds and all that. From the waist down, my Nyestra dress was shredded. It was never wearable again, but I kept it anyway."

I try to imagine bespectacled folkie Roger McGuinn going at it atop the bathroom sink. "He was something else! I was loving it because he was all over me-and I knew who he was, unlike Mick Ronson. I walked around knock-kneed for the rest of the party."

Margaret says that was when she "embraced groupiedom." But she also had a fledgling writing career and made an important decision that night. "I wondered how I was going to compromise the pussy and the brain, both of which were going full tilt, so I decided not to sleep with local musicians anymore-that was where I drew the line." Margaret laughs, "I just continued to sleep with national and touring musicians."

Taking the advice of a music-savvy friend, Margaret decided to check out an Armadillo show by a former member of the Velvet Underground. "The moment I hit backstage, I was thrown into the dark, feeling my way around, and ran smack into this guy wearing a hard hat and camouflage. He looked down at me and I looked up at him. I gasped and could hardly breathe. I didn't know who he was, but he led this group of people onstage and I just went `Uh, uh, uh..: It was April 17, 1979. I fell in love with John Cale on the spot."