I came across this book at the public library. It's a very interesting story
of Detroit rock n' roll as they interview a ton of musicians, music magazine writers,
club owners, managers pretty much anyone who was there.
I tried to mention most of Alice Cooper but some pages I just skipped if they say him by name
with a group of other musicians. Early part has a lot of quotes by Dennis Dunaway and Neal Smith.
I even posted some quotes by Dick Wagner and Frost band members about there time in Detroit.
This will be posted in 3 daily blogs
First talks about the introduction to Detroit the 2nd blog is Alice Cooper in Detroit
and 3rd blog is on the road and info on Dick Wagner's Frost band
quotes by Bob Ezrin and ending with a slam at Alice Cooper by Insane Clown Posse.
"DETROIT rock city"
The Uncensored History
of Rock N' Roll In America's Loudest City
by Steve Miller
Pg 14 - 15, "Playground of Noise"
Russ Gibb: The Grande had such a great sound because there was horsehair in
the plaster. We knew that they had done that at the Orchestra Hall and so we
had them do it at the Grande. It absorbed the sound rather than having it bounce.
Dennis Dunaway (Alice Cooper, bassist): It’s interesting how people called it the
Grande, when l think it was really the Grand ballroom with just a European spell-
ing. But they called it the Grande. The Grande was sort of our rival because we got
a lot more gigs at the Eastown Theater. We related to the Eastown Theater a lot
more. And the Stooges played the Eastown a lot more. We played with the Who
there one time, and the place had this curtain, like a movie screen. So when we
opened for the Who, they brought down the curtain so Keith’s drums were behind
the curtain and then we were set up in front of the curtain. When we did “Black
Juju,” l thought,”Wow, the drums sounded incredible tonight.” When we got done
with our set, one of our roadies came and told us that Keith Moon went out to his
kit and was playing right along with Neal through the whole song. That gave me
the idea to stand behind the screen when the Who played. If that screen wasn’t
there, I could have set my hand right on Keith Moon’s head. I watched the Who
do their whole set there. Nobody could see me. The Who would come together
between songs, and you’d think they’re discussing what they were going to do next.
No. They were coming together going “Fuck you!” ”No, fuck you!”
Norm Liberman (Frat, vocalist): When people got tired of the Grande, we had
places in Macomb County, which is north of Detroit. There were two geodesic
domes out in the middle of nowhere, that was the Frut Palace. Every band that
played there got $400, and we had every hand in Detroit play there. My mother
would take the money so that no one would steal it. I was standing there one night
and my mother’s taking the money, and Alice Cooper says. “Mrs. Liberman, why
don’t you let the guy over there inside?” ”No, Alice, he can panhandle a little more
before he comes in.”
Norm Liberman: We also had the Frut Cellar inside this old hotel in Mt. Clem-
ens, the Colonial. We used to have 600 people inside and 250 on the steps waiting
to get in. At that place we could pay the bands for six, seven hundred dollars. Alice
Cooper would come in for $800, and we packed the joint. Everybody was drunk
on their asses. Drinks were a buck apiece. We would take the cover and pay the
bands that were playing. We were usually on the hill too, and we would take the
rest of the money and party with it ourselves. The guy who owned the joint would
take the bar money.
Neal Smith (Alice Cooper, drummer): We had the Eastown, the Grande, and the
Sherwood Forest Rivera, with short drives to Ann Arbor and Lansing, so Detroit
was a good spot for us to be.
Pg 24, “You Can’t Be a Leader on LSD”
Dennis Dunaway: The SRC at the time had a record deal, and I was jealous of that.
(evenspotspeaks note: SRC is short for Detroit band The Scot Richard Case)
Pg 45, “They Didn’t Call Them the Stooges for Nothing”
Dennis Dunaway: The shows with the Stooges at the Eastown Theater always
had a lot of violence. Iggy would jump off stage and pick a light with somebody,
and if he picked a fight with you, then you were the hero for the next week or two.
Pg 52 - 53, “They Didn’t Call Them the Stooges for Nothing”
Ron Asheton: Max’s was great fun times. We loved Max’s Kansas City, the orig-
inal studios pre-James times, which I call the real Stooges—used to go to Max’s
all the time when we were in town, so we were quite comfortable. “Alright you
boys, you’ve got a credit line at the restaurant, and at the end of your week of
playing, we’ll tally up your sums, pay your bill downstairs.” So every night after
we played, we’d go downstairs and hang out and have our dinner and our drinks.
We’d see a lot of our friends; a lot of people from Michigan came to the shows.
One time Iggy came in pretty stoned. He was getting back into getting stoned in
New York—people want to give him stuff; they want to make him a little mon-
ster, people were always shoving things into his face, into his hand. I’m sitting in
the restaurant, and here comes Jim—Iggy—walking into the restaurant, and he’s
wearing like a turn~of~the~century nightgown—you know the big flowing, white
thing that goes from the neck to the floor, has no shape, you look like a ghost—so
I’m going. “Oh Jesus Christ,” and we’re all kind of like, “Oh don’t look at him.” It’s
not terribly embarrassing, but I know somethings gonna happen. So there were
these yuppie types who were not your normal Max’s Kansas City musician~type
people—high~end younger couples, two couples. So Jim’s just walking around the
restaurant, seeing who’s there. So when he gets to their table, they had just gotten
their wine and salads and stuff, and he falls and he grabs on to their table cloth,
and the stuff comes pouring down on him; a couple of us just got up and split. I
remember the guy swearing at him. Now it’s funny, but then it was “Oh no.”
He’d see somebody or maybe people, or they would say, “Hey Iggy” and he
would just sit down at people’s tables and start eating their food, and no one was
pissed or anything, but he would sit down and partake a bit of that, then he’d talk
and then get up and just move on to another table. So at the end of the week, when
it was time to pay up the bill—I think only I perhaps got paid for the week—I
know Scottie, James, and Iggy had spent all of their paychecks downstairs in the
restaurant, which I think was their [Max’s] secret plan anyway. They’re going,
“They’re playing upstairs and all the money will be spent downstairs.”
I remember Jim being very generous. He was signing his name; he would sit
down at a table and have a couple bites and sign their check, so I think he actually
ended up owing money. And that was the classic time he got cut, he had those
bad slices—you see those pictures—and after one of the shows we went to Alice
Cooper’s penthouse to hang out after the show, and when I looked at his chest,
I’m going “stitches.” So Alice actually got on the phone and woke up his personal
physician and had a cab take Iggy to the doctors to get stitched up, you know, like,
at what, two or three in the morning?
Stirling Silver: I was in New York that summer and went to Max’s Kansas City
every single night. I would go to Arthur Kane’s apartment, pick him up in my
car—of course everybody took taxis or subways, nobody had a car in New York—
and park it by South Park Avenue. Max’s was right there, and there was this little
playground in Gramercy Park with, like, a tree fort made of metal. No one could
see you in there, and we could sit in there and drink a couple of 40s of Old English
800—we didn’t have that in Detroit and I loved that stuff. Iggy was there for that
week, but it was sold out. Everyone was there—Alice Cooper, Todd Rundgren,