Let's Spend the Night Together: Backstage Secrets of Rock Muses and Supergroupies (40 page)

Pamela: The first time I heard the word, it must've been about 1968, and it wasn't negative. It was just a word.

Bebe: It was cool! I remember seeing you in Rolling Stone when I was in high school. The photographs seemed very glamorous. You didn't look at them and go, "Eeewww, those whores!" It was very rock and roll. And there was the importance of being "eye candy." But also the social scene that girls could bring to a band. You took them shopping, introduced them to people that had power-much like Mick Jagger was introduced to English society by Marianne Faithfull. There was a certain aura about what girls like you did. And then it just went a little cuckoo.

Pamela: I'm very friendly with Lori Mattix now, but it happened right around the early '70s, when the baby girls started putting on those tiny little hot pants ...

Bebe:... and started having sex when they were fourteen! To me, that was weird, because I didn't have sex until I was eighteen.

Pamela: Yeah, I was nineteen.

Bebe: We were positively prehistoric! I can't even imagine having sex at fourteen.

Pamela: I had my Barbie dolls all in a row.

Bebe: Going out with Todd [Rundgren], I got introduced to the whole scene very quickly. Of course, if you have the chance to live that rock and roll lifestyle, it's wonderful.

Pamela: My friend, Cassandra Peterson-Elvira-was a big groupie! She loves what she did and happily claims it.

Bebe: I heard that she and Todd had a [conspiratorial whisper] "sexual romp." I think it's fabulous. Everyone should fuck Todd.

Pamela: She said that when she was backstage, the word groupie was like "roadie" or "road manager." She would proudly say, "I'm a groupie," and people would say, "Ooooooh..."

Bebe: I'm not upset about the actual word. I would be an idiot to say that I never hung around a rock band, didn't date a rock star, or marry one, or see a lot of music in my life. Because it's who I am, that's part of me. But I'm not going to let somebody call me stupid, judgmental names for it either. What's the equivalent today? "I'm a stripper!" "I'm a porn star!" Aaahhh! Everybody's a little bit of a groupie anyway. We're all fans of something. The musicians don't get any credit for choosing us, wanting to be with us. Doesn't that mean we have to be pretty damn fucking special and smart? That we weren't throwaways, one-night stands, discards? We were girls they sought out and wanted to be around and whose energy they needed. Everybody sitting in the audience, appreciating a band, should thank the girls backstage! The real heart and soul of a moving concert is like an organism. Certain flowers aren't going to grow if they don't have their shit in place.

Pamela: You're saying almost the same thing that Lexa Vonn from the Plastics said. She's a Marilyn Manson groupie.

Bebe: I can see how somebody would be into Marilyn Manson. He's one of my favorite rock stars, by far.

Pamela: She says, "Manson taught me that art is not just a song or a painting. Art is you, the essence of your being."

Bebe: That's pretty awesome. We're living in a society where half the culture thinks it's a cool term-associated with a time in rock culture that was glamorous and innocent. Then there are people who associate it with sluts, blow jobs, and roadies.

Pamela: That's why I'm writing this book. I'm bound to get some heavy shit for it.

Bebe: I say, polish up that skin right now, girl! My book came out five years ago, and I'm finding it's split down the middle. People either love it, or they don't like it at all. And I think that's great. I'm going to quote Marilyn Manson because I think he's a genius! He said that all the best art is either loved or hated-there is no in between. I have found that to be true. So, I'm pleased.

Pamela: Another thing Lexa said is, "I believe music comes from God, or whatever is up there, the higher power source. Musicians channel that source, and when they look at you with those eyes, it's like being with God."

Bebe: That's very well said. It almost has the ring of George Sand. It's like she's talking about Liszt or Chopin. I agree with her completely. If you can't see that, you're not a groupie.

Pamela: It's such a drag how tarnished the word has become.

Bebe: I've been looking at industry forums, the Velvet Rope, and somebody started this thread "Groupies, Groupies, Groupies." I purposely have not posted, but I've watched it. This is another way the word is viewed, and why I hate it now. And God bless her, she might love animals and keep a beautiful garden, but Miss Connie doesn't help things either.

Pamela: But she's the real thing, and she loves the music.

Bebe: Well, she has had a song written about her, and certainly never hurt anybody, that's for sure. I have to read this last post to you. Somebody writes, "I suppose, being some rock star's receptacle for semen is not a great career choice. Groupies, take note." See? That's how some people view it.

Pamela: Unfortunately, yes, and those people are usually jealous in some way.

Bebe: That's possible. But notice that girls considered the creme de la creme of the groupie crop-every single one of them, you included-has had a career. I have a career, so have Pattie Boyd and Jane Asher. They have substance. There's a reason these guys wanted to be with Linda McCartney or Patti D'Arbanville. They are strong, beautiful, independent women, who are very connected and make their men look fantastic!

Pamela: Yes, it seems even goofy-looking musicians get the glorious chicks.

Bebe: Power is an aphrodisiac. There's something incredibly sexy about a normal, geeky guy, strapping on a guitar and becoming Roy Orbison. I've always adored men like Arthur Miller, so it doesn't surprise me that I was attracted to brainy guys-Rick Nielsen, Elvis Costello, Todd Rundgren. In his own way, Stiv Bators was a brilliant creature. Physically, he was unique. And it was also kind of interesting to date an alien, you know? He was one of the best boyfriends I ever had. And I miss him.

Pamela: You have no regrets, correct?

Bebe: I can't say that completely, because of course I do. I did a lot of stupid things when I was young that I'd do entirely differently. I would have liked more children, so that does encompass some regrets. It's not like I didn't have my chances. But now I have a grandson, so I get to feel that connection. It's a real trip, holding my daughter in my arms while she holds her baby. I can't even tell you how overwhelming that is.

Pamela: I'm happy for you. So I assume it's all been worth it?

Bebe: Yes. I remember turning up backstage at a Cheap Trick show and watching Rick Nielsen's face light up. It's a beautiful thing. They look at you and go, "Oh my God, you're here! We're gonna play so fucking great tonight!" They want to know that their girls are there. And we're going to tell them the truth when they get off stage: "You suck" or "You were brilliant" or "The bass player's overplaying" or "It was mixed horribly." We know our shit! There was only a handful of It Girls who got treated like rock stars and maintained that status.

Pamela: And it's still going on in dressing rooms and tour buses all over the world.

Bebe: Yeah, but you have to try to educate people. Feminism isn't a bad thing once it's properly explained. But Gloria Steinem had to keep fighting, she kept saying, "Listen, this is what I mean. This is what I'm trying to tell you. Women can do anything." Either we've got to take back the word groupie, we've got to come up with another one, or we've got to educate people as to what it actually means.

Pamela: That's what I'm hoping to do.

Dangerous but Worth the Risk

hen I put the word out on my Web site that I'm scouting hot-blooded music muses, one of the most intriguing responses I receive is a twenty-page chronicle entitled, "Story of an Eighties Groupie." Here are a few samples:

We go to his hotel, where we talk the night away. When it's finally time to go to bed, he asks, "Has anyone ever made love to you before?" I laugh, thinking, "Does he think I'm a virgin after Robbin?" Then I realize by the look on his face, he means LOVE, not sex ... and he did make love to me. He had a guitar player's skillful fingers and played me all night long ...

Though my feelings for Taime were deep, I didn't have much time to mourn the loss. Because shortly after our breakup, Lee Rocker of the Stray Cats came into the Rainbow and took a shine to me. He had blue eyes, black eyeliner, and dark hair combed into a duck tail. He wasn't tall, but he was strong, especially his arms, from playing stand-up bass ...

As I'm lying on his chest, I glance over at the Medusa tattoo on his arm. The same tattoo I'd seen on MTV, him running his hand over it seductively in "Dancin' with myself "As I run my hand seductively over it, I suddenly realize, this is BILLY IDOL. Billy Idol's in my bed! I ask him, "So, what's it like to be Billy Idol?" And he says, "They want the lip, I give 'em the lip." Then he gives me his sexy, trademark sneer ...

Patti Johnsen, the eloquent author of these lusty memories, has just arrived in Los Angeles from Denver, where she lives happily with her hubby and two young daughters. She's in town for a few days visiting Lisa Nichols, her former groupie soul sister. Patti worked at the notorious Rainbow Bar & Grill on the Strip from 1985 to 1993, where she had her pick of rock's big-haired boy beauties. Lisa left her dinky hometown of New London, North Carolina, and moved to Hollywood in 1989, after years of dallying with rockers down South. She is now a special education teacher and lives in Santa Monica with her twenty-year-old daughter. Patti is a pleased-as-punch, bubbly blonde. Lisa's once platinum-frosted locks are long gone, and her demure demeanor almost disguises her mile-wide wild streak. Between the two of them, Patti and Lisa have covered a whole lot of tempestuous rock and roll terrain. These feisty women are proud of their many rock conquests and have come to my pad to relay their sexy tales. They have much to say, so I'm just going to let them say it.