Recorded at S.I.R., Hollywood, on September 13, 1973
So while the spring and summer of 1988 was one of the worst stretches of my life, a couple of good things did happen to me during that time. The first thing was that I started living on my own for the first time in my life, in an apartment at the corner of Wishon & McKinley in the Tower District. It was a bit expensive: $375 a month plus utilities, but my landlord often forgot to charge me for the utilities.
The living room of that apartment was just big enough for a TV, a couch, and — oh yeah — my drum kit in the back corner, which was good, because of the other good thing that happened: one night, right around the time my band Blackbird Stories disintegrated for good, Ron “Doc” Morse walked up to me outside of the Olympic Tavern and told me he wanted to play music with me.