View attachment 11857
Fifteen years ago he played the Emerald Queen. We both ended up at a private party the night before the show. Maybe 10 people were there. The Cold night air brought on a good asthmatic cough. Burdon, standing nearby asked, "Asthma?"
"Yep"
He had Asthma too. Turned me on to a new breathing drug. Mine only flares up occasionally. So does his. "Its a bitch when your scuba diving," he told me. The Hangers on got tired of our medical shop talk and moved on, leaving the two of us alone in the kitchen.
"We lost them pretty quick," I quipped. My glass was empty and I started towards the bar at the breakfast nook for another drink. Burdon, no shit, asked if he could join me. 2 Crowns with a splash of coke (Coca Cola).
I told him I was a big Jim Morrison fan.
'Fucking asshole." Burdon sneered. "I kicked that motherfucker out of a house in Beverly Hills," he added.
Seems the Lizard King was so drunk Burdon had to pull out a revolver and squeeze off a couple of rounds when Morrison decided to swing off a chandelier.
"Huh"
"You knew Hendrix?" I asked. BFF's, according to Burdon. He teared up telling me how Hendrix's girlfriend called him that early morning in 1970. Jimmy was unresponsive and barley breathing. "Call a fucking ambulance!" Burdon recalled yelling at the gacked up woman. She refused because there were drugs all through the flat. By the time Burdon got to the flat, Jimmy was dead.
We bullshitted for 15-20 minutes. Cool and true story, I know.
