Manson in His Own Words by Nuel Emmons

Author:Nuel Emmons
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
Published: 2007-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

I THINK by now it is obvious that being shy isn’t part of my makeup. I do come on pretty strong, but boldness and aggressiveness is sometimes just an effort to hide fear, weakness and doubt. And while I am reluctant to cop to it, the fact I’d been out of the joint for seven months and hadn’t made a move to kick off my dream of making it in the music world suggests I wasn’t as loaded with confidence as I pretended. I believed in my talent and ability, but knowing how hard it is to break the ice, I’d been living with the fear that a hasty recording session might close a door on me before I really got started. Then too, in past years, I’d had my burns and disappointments when I put too much faith in a convict’s word. So though I was pretty good friends in prison with the guy who provided the Universal contact, I was halfway afraid he was blowing smoke when he said he could introduce me to a guy who would arrange a recording session. I thought his friend might not be anything more than some clerk or glorified messenger boy.

Still, I had come to L.A. on the strength of that phone call. As it turned out, the contact was a man big enough at Universal to have his own clerk and several messenger boys. The first meeting with him wasn’t a session, but more to get acquainted. I was impressed by his position at the studio, and by the time he heard me play some music, he was so impressed with me he arranged for a full-fledged recording session. The recording date was set up for two days down the road. In the meantime, he wanted to know all about me, my lifestyle and all the things I was into. It was astonishing to him that I was living in a bus with twelve girls. Right away he wanted to know what my hold over them was. “No hold,” I assured him, “we’re just a few people who happened to hook up and each of us is our own person. The girls do what they want to do and so do I. It just happens they dig looking out for me, and for the good they do me, I return an equal good. If you’re interested in meeting them and seeing for yourself how we live, you’re welcome to visit with us.”

The Universal guy was interested, but rather than have him see the things that went on at the Spiral Staircase, I scheduled things so that I could come by the studio and pick him up. Because I wanted things to be smooth, I thought of postponing the day’s meeting until I could put myself and the girls in more impressive surroundings. But, “Fuck it,” I thought, “this is me and this is the way I’m living.” When I parked across the street from Universal the following day, the exterior of the bus, though scrubbed and clean, was still a pretty seedy sight.

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