My Surprise
Concert Opening for Rick Nelson In 1970
by Mark Guerrero
In early 1970, I played with a band that opened for Rick Nelson
at Antelope Valley College in Lancaster, California.
Lancaster is in the high desert of Los Angeles County, about
an hour north of the city of Los Angeles. What made the experience
interesting was that I was playing guitar and singing lead
with a pick up band that hadn’t rehearsed for the occasion.
I had played a few gigs with the drummer and bass player,
Leon and Danny Becken, but the other guitar player had just
gotten out of the army and hadn’t played a gig in two
years. He was Rudy Valona, former lead guitarist of
the East L.A. band, the Blendells, who had a hit record
in 1965 called “La La La La La” that peaked at
number 62 on the Billboard charts and was in the top ten in
Los Angeles. Also, we didn’t know we were going
to be in concert or that we would be opening for Rick Nelson.
We thought we were going to be playing for a college dance.
We'd been booked by an agent who made a career out of booking
high school and college dances and concerts. He would
often send out bands posing as one hit wonder bands whose
individual members were unknown to the general public.
The agent’s brother happened to be a major record producer
who had many hit records with two major bands in the late
60s. None of the famous producer's success apparently
rubbed off on his sibling.
I remember the shock of arriving
in the big college gymnasium and seeing the folding chairs
set up in rows, concert-style, and hearing that we were opening
for Rick Nelson. Rick was riding high at the time on
his first country rock hit with his new image. He was
no longer Ricky Nelson with the Elvis hairstyle doing his
hits from the 50s. He was now part of the scene that
included bands such as Poco and the recently countrified Byrds.
Rick was wearing country western style shirts with embroidery
and his hair didn’t have a trace of grease. I
know this because when I went to the restroom before the show,
Rick was there combing his hair. He was talking with
one of his musicians so I didn't take the opportunity to meet
him. The name of
his band was Rick Nelson and the Stone Canyon Band and their
hit record was a country version of Bob Dylan’s “She
Belongs To Me.” In case you don’t remember
the song, it’s the one that starts with the lyric, “She’s
got everything she needs, she’s an artist she don’t
look back.” The song had reached number 33 on
the Billboard charts and was getting lots of airplay in Los
Angeles. (Two years later Rick would score even bigger
with “Garden Party,” which would peak at number
6 on the national charts.) What made the night even
more mortifying for me was Rick had Randy Meisner on bass.
Randy had just left Poco, who at the time was one of my favorite
bands. I had seen them perform several times at the
Troubadour in Hollywood and they were incredible. They
were as tight a band as I’d ever heard, with great musicianship
and perfect harmonies. Poco also had Jim Messina on
guitar and Richie Furay on lead vocals, both formerly of the
Buffalo Springfield. I’d seen Randy play with
Poco and was blown away by his sound and skill as a bass player,
not to mention his clean, high voice soaring above the others
in their three-part harmonies.
The stage was set and there was no
way out. We were introduced as the Electric Indian and
went on, a totally unrehearsed band of guys averaging 20 years
of age, with a second guitar player who had no confidence
in his playing due to his long layoff. We were faced
with two or three hundred people staring at us. Even
when rehearsed and expecting to be in concert one is a little
nervous, but under these circumstances I was wishing I could
go home. Feeling an obligation to my fellow band mates,
I forged ahead. All we could do was play a bunch of
cover tunes to fill our 40 minutes or so. I remember
singing some Neil Young songs I’d recently been doing
such as “Cinnamon Girl,” and “Down By the
River.” These songs had come out about six months
before on Neil’s “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere”
album, which was his first hit solo effort. I also did
“Oh Darling” by The Beatles from their 1969 album,
Abbey Road. I sang and played my best, but remember
being embarrassed the whole time because I knew the band wasn’t
that tight and Rick Nelson and Randy Meisner were leaning
against a wall checking us out. After our set, I walked
by Randy on the way off stage and he said “you guys
sounded good.” I said “thanks, but I don’t
think we were very good” or something to that effect.
It wasn’t until years later that I realized he probably
meant what he said. I did give it all I had because
Rick and Randy were there and the band probably wasn’t
as bad as I thought it was at the time. I was just comparing
it to the level of Poco, which we couldn’t have attained
at the time even with rehearsal. Randy Meisner went
on to become a founding member of the Eagles and achieved
individual recognition as co-writer and lead singer on their
classic, “Take It To the Limit,” which reached
number 4 in 1976. Unfortunately, Rick Nelson died in a
plane crash in DeKalb, Texas on New Years Day in 1985.
In 1988, I ran into Randy Meisner
at a recording studio in North Hollywood, Track Records. I
was recording my “On the Boulevard” EP and Randy was
rehearsing with David Palmer, former lead singer with Steely
Dan. Palmer is best known for his lead vocal on Steely Dan’s
popular song, “Dirty Work.” They were putting together
a band which apparently never got off the ground.
During a break in recording, I went into the room where one
could have coffee and snacks and there was Randy sitting at
the table alone. I told him the story of the concert in Antelope
Valley 18 years before, and how I thought it was
very kind of him to say something positive regarding my performance. He probably didn’t remember the occasion
and most likely didn’t care, but I felt good about thanking
him for being nice to an unknown kid back in 1970.
