From Blondie to Iggy Pop: the rock stars who defined a generation

Lou was taking the red-eye back to New York the evening after the show. I didn’t know what the airport scene would be like but since Cream suggested I get “everything,” I felt there would be some interesting possibilities. Besides Lou’s publicist and Ernie, he was accompanied by Rachel, the transsexual partner he was living with at the time. Even though it was fairly late at night and the airport somewhat crowded, Lou and his entourage initially went unnoticed but in the harsh neon glare of the airport Lou stood out like a beacon. Emerging from the bathroom shortly before boarding his flight, Lou went to purchase a Chronicle, pulling out the paper with the headline “Skyjacker Kills Hostage” as a straight businessman to his left looked on curiously. Then Lou stood, approached me, lowered his head and lit a cigarette. In that moment Lou gave me one of my most iconic image

I had seen the Stones in November of 1969 at the Oakland Coliseum and then a month later at Altamont. When they announced they were going on the road in the summer of 1972 I immediately set out to get on the tour, calling first their publicist in Los Angeles and then the Stones directly. I was told they already had a tour photographer and the only way I could shoot was to be on assignment for a newspaper or major publication. I racked my brain going through numerous magazines over a two-week period and finally hatched an idea. I contacted Jo Bergman, who was Mick Jagger’s ‘girl Friday’ as it were, and  – affecting an English accent – I became Leo Lehrman, photo editor for Vogue. I told her, “We’re planning to do a story on the lads and have this great new young photographer, Michael Zagaris, who we want to use.” Jo explained that they already had a tour photographer, Ethan Russell, and they would be glad to make Ethan’s shots available to them. But I (Leo) demurred saying, “Well, love, we can’t really take handouts, can we? I guess we’ll not do the story. Maybe next time…” At which point Jo said, “Wait, if you can get your photographer to Vancouver he can shoot the first few days of the tour. But that’s all.” And that was all I needed

The Who had come to San Francisco to play two days outside before a packed house at the Oakland Coliseum with the Grateful Dead opening for them in what Bill Graham presented as a ‘Day on the Green’. With Indian-summer weather, it was a festive atmosphere as members of The Who’s party came together with the Dead family. It was like a giant picnic with Bill Graham – both bands and their friends mixing, laughing and getting high together. Pete [Townshend] and I hung out for a while as he tuned up, and then we strolled together into another trailer where Jerry Garcia was holding court with Robert Hunter, Phil Lesh, John McIntire, Billy Kreutzmann and Jerry’s girlfriend, Deborah. It was the most relaxed I remember ever seeing everyone before a show.

In the 1970s the Faces were the ultimate fun, party band. Hanging out in hotels with them was an orgy of Matuse and Mandrax. On many nights they looked and often sounded gloriously sloppy and out of tune – and yet it worked. Shooting them was always a celebration; they exuded the fun and madcap pranksterism that they embodied at the time. Young lads on holiday in the States partying, playing music and having the time of their lives.

Rod had evolved from a shy blues singer who sung the first three numbers hid behind the amps when I first saw him fronting for Jeff Beck in 1968, to a consummate performer. He dressed like a dandy and had a great stage presence. He was one of the first singers I remember using the microphone stand as a prop. He’d often punctuate a performance by kicking a soccer ball around the stage. Rod and his whole band were huge soccer aficionados, and Rod was rarely to be seen without a soccer ball, a tartan scarf… and a beautiful Nordic blonde.

I always loved Etta James’ music and felt she was one of the most soulful blues singers ever. You could tell Etta had lived and was living most of what she sang about. I hooked up with her at the old Boarding House in San Francisco. It was a medium sized club and the perfect venue for someone like Etta. The good news was I was friendly with her road manager at the time, Phil Kaufman. Phil was the ultimate character of that or any era and brought me backstage where I sat and talked with Etta as she slowly prepared for the show, her young son Donto by her side, blow-drying her hair.