Devils & Blue Dresses: My Wild Ride as a Rock and Roll Legend

mind of “Genius, Inc.” and so everyone was a bit uncomfortable. I did, however, love the recording and the performance. It was a flop. Bob claimed it was because we released it at the very same moment John, Paul, George, and Ringo released their movie and song called “Help.” There may have been something to that.
    But now I had to rush home to be with Susan, as she had given birth to our baby girl, Dawn Michelle Levise. I wasn’t home very long on that visit, but I was there long enough to understand that a miracle had occurred. I didn’t hold Dawn much because I didn’t trust my reflexes with such a delicate little baby. Now, with a lifetime behind me, I still remember exactly what she made me feel as I held her next to my heart. It was the first time in my life that I even pretended to know what love might be. She was me, and she was Susan, and she needed to be kept safe. The memory melted warmly into my blood as I rushed to return to the airport. I had to get back to New York quickly to begin another recording session.
    I was again invited to The Dakota, once again alone, but this time not to be evaluated. This time it was to meet a man who would make a big difference in how I perceived the business of music in New York City. I would, during my time with him, be sheltered and protected and pampered during the yet-to-come grooming process. His name was Alan Stroh and he would become my manager.
    We again sat immersed in pleasant surroundings but this time it was Alan who asked the questions and Mr. Crewe who observed. Alan was funny and a free spirit, but clearly not the same creative personality and energy that resonated from Mr. Crewe. Alan was, however, a man of confidence and a different sort of creator. He was a dreamer who needed to channel through someone.
    The most noticeable thing about the two of them was the fact that they were both overtly gay. We were listening to a recording that Alan wanted me to hear. It was the beautiful voice of Aretha Franklin out of Detroit. But it wasn’t the Aretha the world would come to know. This was powerful stuff, but it was inaccessible. She was at that time still with RCA, but they didn’t know what to do with her power. That wouldn’t come until she moved to Atlantic Records.
    Suddenly, a horrifying scream came from the kitchen, and then another and another. You could hear scuffling and the sound of crashing pots and pans and plates being broken. We were all alarmed. I ran to see what it was and as I entered the kitchen the struggle ended. In the silence and amidst the blood I saw that Mr. Crewe’s imported pet Jaguarundi, a wild mountain cat from South America, had killed his two Siamese cats for infringing on his red meat dinner. At first I was amazed at the carnage, and at the feat itself because Siamese cats are known for their aggressiveness as fighters, but then I became even more amazed at the shrieks and cries of hysteria that came flying from the mouths of Mr. Crewe and Alan Stroh.
    Rather than trying to calm them down, I decided to head back to the hotel and tell the band what had happened. I assumed that when you are really wealthy you lose all common sense and respect for life. I wasn’t too uncomfortable with that. It reminded me of the neighborhood I had grown up in, but the incident left a bad taste in my mouth.
    What I was unaware of were two essential elements. One, Bob Crewe had already made his decision to make me a star through his and Alan’s connections. And two, the process, to which I was oblivious, had already begun and the hype machine was marching through the ears and homes of all the important people of the day who were successful in the music business and on the social scene.
    While I was in New York, through the generosity of her parents and what little money we had, Susan was able to get an apartment for us to live in in Detroit, even though I wasn’t there.
    By this time our Stea-Phillips recordings had begun at the Stea-Phillips Studios. These are the same sessions mentioned earlier that were attended by a couple of the Rolling Stones, and were live recordings of songs we performed in our gigs. The sound was terrific, what with the two-story high ballroom ceilings of the studio and the natural echo. Our band had come up with the idea of doing medley songs in our set as a way to keep playing without having to stop. However, the idea to combine “C.C. Rider” with “Jenny Jenny” by Richard Penniman, whom you may