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Rickie Lee Jones Magazine
rickie lee jones magazine














A good many of the thousands of female runaways who pass through Los Angeles each year want to become models, movie stars, rock singers, something like that,” says Officer James Gilliam, assigned to curtail juvenile crime in the Hollywood division of the Los Angeles Police Department. It is a tale of desperate chances and impossible triumphs, an adventure story of a girl who beat the odds and grew up to become one of the most legendary artists of her time, turning adversity and. Last Chance Texaco is the first-ever no-holds-barred account of the life of two-time Grammy Award-winner Rickie Lee Jones in her own words.

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In honor of its release, The Garden District Book Shop is hosting a lively and in-depth. Two time Grammy award-winning musician and New Orleans local Rickie Lee Jones is releasing her memoir, Last Chance Texaco: Chronicles of an American Troubadour, on Tuesday, April 6. ”She ended up doing nude still photographs for some child pornographers, and the saddest thing was she said she didn’t mind doing it if that’s what it took to become famous.Find many great new & used options and get the best deals for Rickie Lee Jones, The Magazine, LP at the best online prices at eBay Free shipping for many productsRickie Lee Jones debuts memoir with interview at Preservation Hall.

rickie lee jones magazine

It is approximately 9:30 p.m. As I was about to record that song in the studio, I was looking at what was about to happen to me, and hoping I got out with what was mine, with my ‘child,’ so to speak, when everything was done.”She flicks her long blond hair away from her face to reveal a mischievous grin as we head down La Cienega Boulevard in Los Angeles. ‘Night Train’ is about a girl trying to get out of a situation, making her getaway. ”It’s my favorite thing to do. She sounds like she’s pulling them from deep inside herself.”I‘ve always liked to run away,” Rickie Lee Jones confides as she sits slumped down opposite me in the front seat of my rented Plymouth.

”But now I don’t run away so much physically — I don’t always go anywhere. So, once again, Rickie has had to make a run for it.”I run away at the most peculiar times,” she says. Since her recent success, however, her doorstep has been darkened by a small army of neighborhood rubbernecks who want to know what she’s really about. Normally, Rickie Lee lives by herself in a humble little cottage out in Santa Monica. She’s been undergoing a ”period of adjustment” ever since her sultry Warner Bros, debut album, Rickie Lee Jones, and the spirited hit single, ”Chuck E.’s in Love,” combined to make her one of the current top-selling female vocalists in the nation. A self-described ”night owl on the prowl,” she has spent the better part of the day — and the last three weeks, for that matter — holed up in a messy suite of rooms in an aged hotel just off Sunset Strip.

(Jones is the mysterious blond on the back cover of Waits’ 1978 Blue Valentine LP.) ”I thought she was extremely attractive, which is to say that my first reactions were rather primitive — primeval, even. Buxom and big-hipped, with the wisecracking self-assurance of a hussy, she can be mighty intimidating when first encountered.”The first time I saw Rickie Lee she reminded me of Jayne Mansfield,” says sidekick and sometime beau Tom Waits with a lustful growl. She has been said to resemble Joni Mitchell musically and visually, but in person Jones looks more like a dishy Burbank carhop than some swank, doe-eyed Lady of the Canyon. An acoustic guitar slung low from her neck, she struts and sashays with the easy rolling beat, cooing her parables about the tragicomic underbelly of urban life.

”She’s all woman, and seems tough — I remember when she was broke and used to sleep under the Hollywood sign. She is much older than I am in terms of street wisdom sometimes she seems as ancient as dirt, and yet other times she’s so like a little girl.”Fabled chum Chuck E. There she was, walking down Santa Monica Boulevard, drunk and falling off her shoes.”I love her madly in my own way — you’ll gather that our relationship wasn’t exactly like Mike Todd and Elizabeth Taylor — but she scares me to death. I remember her getting her first pair of high heels, at least since I knew her, and coming by one night to holler in my window to take her out celebrating. You can learn a lot about a woman by getting smashed with her.

Rickie Lee, dressed to kill or maim in a skintight, black nylon stretch suit and spike heels, enters with relish, and she creates a minor stir among the night stalkers clustered around the grill when she leans over the counter to place her order.”I love places like this,” she whispers. Nobody would talk to us after that, so we spent the evening going up to people with cocktail dip hidden in our palms and shaking hands with them.”Near the bottom of La Cienega, Rickie Lee and I make a pit stop in a tiny roadside greasy spoon whose clientele is so unsavory that the joint features its own resident rent-a-cop. Tom was embarrassed but got a great kick out of it. Once we three were at an exclusive party in the Hollywood Hills, invited there by Tom’s lawyer, and Rickie went right in, sat down and put an avocado between her legs. She and Waits and I used to steal the black lawn jockeys from homes in Beverly Hills and hop freight trains together.

”I think that maybe fame scares away a lot of friendships, because people just assume that you’re getting what you need. This is the kind of atmosphere,” Jones says, surveying the seedy layout, ”that I feel most comfortable in.”How comfortable has she felt since her sudden fame?”The attention that the public starts paying you scares me,” she says. I’ve done every kind of drug you can do: STP, pot, cocaine, everything but junk I was in an amateur rodeo in 1965 and got a tooth knocked out while breaking a mare. I like taking any kind of a risk.

And I just sat down on the curb and talked to her. The other day a girl ran four blocks down Sunset Boulevard just to catch me. As for the audience, I get a lot of strong reactions from girls, much more than from men. You can’t get anyone on the phone, and you can’t get a date.”The place I feel most comfortable these days is onstage I can cut loose and I’m so damned glad to be there. But then, your normal life is the same as anybody’s — just as lonely.

rickie lee jones magazine

A friend and I had been walking around all night, all over Phoenix — where my folks and I lived at the time— just having fun, and we decided we wanted to go somewhere — to San Diego. ”I think that was about 1969. She decides to return to the subject of her days as a runaway.”The first time I ever ran away I was fourteen,” she says with quiet intensity, stretching out on the couch with a glass of ice and pouring herself two fingers of Jack Daniel’s. She excuses herself to change and when she returns, dressed in a white Doyt-doyt T-shirt (a reference to a line in the song ”Danny’s All-Star Joint” — ”They got a jukebox that goes doyt-doyt”) and snug, blue sweat pants, her demeanor is somber. The monkey gets madder and madder, provoking the lion.”Brandishing an open bottle of Jack Daniel’s, she offers a sampling of the saga:Monkey said, ”Your sister is a prostitute and your mama is a whoreAnd your grandpa goes round sellin’ asshole from door to doorAnd you know that little baby sister that you hold so dear?Well, I fucked her all day for just a bottle of beer!I cornholed your uncle, fucked your mama and your nieceAnd the next time I see your sister, I’m gonna get me a ‘nother little pieceAnd you know your sister did the damnest trickWhy, she got so low she sucked an earthworm’s dick!!”Rickie Lee tumbles to the couch in laughter, spilling a generous amount of bourbon on her clothes in the process.

I think people never get over the first time they fall in love. We got caught the next day.”When we took that car,” she exults, ”that was the first time I was in love! He was a little Italian boy. “It was a GTO or something and it made a lot of noise as we pulled out of the driveway. We neglected to tell the owner that we were taking it,” she says, laughing with a gurgle.

rickie lee jones magazine