In the beginning…

This is my story, a twisted tale of a life gone wrong…no—that’s not in this story. This story is of my checkered career in the PR game, entertainment sub-genre, and pop music sub-sub. Six years ago I began writing this tome, and now, having taken possession of my domain name, thought I’d update and complete it to date.

I was born into this, having received my initial training at the venerable firm of Rogers & Cowan. The Cowan is my uncle—Warren—and he is still alive. He is, in fact, running a quite successful firm, Warren Cowan & Associates, where I was re-employed for 2 years. He started Rogers & Cowan with late Henry Rogers (who wrote many books on the subject of public relations), and from these folks, and my Dad, Stanley, who was also a Hollywood publicist, I learned the ropes of this much misunderstood and maligned profession. My dad maintained an independent spirit, and though he worked for Warren in the later years of his life, he dreamed of developing projects and becoming a producer. He came close, as he had the rights to develop the Georgie Jessel story when he died. Though many publicists become producers when they grow up, my dad was never to see any of his projects come to fruition.

As a teenager, I was caught up in the newly developing world of rock 'n' roll, and, as I worked summers and after school in Warren's company,I felt that the pop music world might benefit from some of the techniques in publicity that were in play for the great movie and television stars of the day. I was picking up the techniques of "managed exposure," and learning the basics. However, it was impossible to convince the Powers That Be that there was money to be made in that branch of the entertainment business, and it wasn't until they signed a new kid named Bobby Darin that they paid attention to Pop music at all. By that time, I had left to try my hand at applying what I had learned to the world of Rock 'N' Roll.

I parlayed a part-time gig at radio station KFWB in Hollywood, into a working relationship with a flamboyant and brilliant man Barry Friedman, who later changed his name and persona to one Frasier Mohawk, for reasons I was never to learn. Barry once staged an elephant dance contest in the parking lot of a club we represented. From an office in the historic Sunset Boulevard complex called Crossroads of the World, Barry and I did publicity for Brian Epstein's stable of music artists, everyone except the Beatles. Who will ever forget Tommy Quickley, Cilla Black, and more. It was the era of Gerry & the Pacemakers, The Dave Clark Five, and those Liverpool guys who tried to ride the Beatles train. We also represented Hoyt Axton, and were present when Radio KRLA brought the Beatles to the Hollywood Bowl.

"Folk Music, JFK and Me"

From there, I met a dynamic duo of Hollywood hustlers named Charlie Greene and Brian Stone, who opened a folk club, the Hootenanny, in the San Fernando Valley. Folk music was reaching its nadir, and the club booked the top talent in this genre. I remember meeting a very young David Crosby when he played the Hootenanny as part of the Les Baxter Balladeers, his first professional group. I also remember a mesmerizing Oscar Brown Jr., playing the club the night after President Kennedy was assassinated. His "Brown Baby" had everyone in the room blubbering.

Greene & Stone had hustled themselves into the music business, through hanging out and sheer chutzpa. They actually told a story of sneaking on to the Universal lot, finding an empty office & setting up shop there, until they were found out and thrown off the lot. One of the places “it was all happening,” was Hollywood’s Gold Star Recording studios, where Phil Spector was working his magic and creating his “Wall of Sound.” Jack Nitzche, the late brilliant arranger who was in fact the unsung architect of that sound, also made Gold Star his home, and went on to become one of the hottest composers in movies. Phil is still alive and well, in his own peculiar madness, working on various projects.

Also present at Gold Star was a record business promotion man named Sonny Bono, who had just begun a relationship with the winsome teenager Cheralynn Sarkessian. Sonny picked up just enough from the Masters in Gold Star and started producing records, with himself and Cher, under the moniker Cesar & Cleo. Greene and Stone became their managers, and they became Sonny & Cher. "Baby Don't Go," their first hit single in L.A. became the hottest record in town, played day and night on L.A.'s newest and hottest radio Station, KHJ, or "Boss Radio, " featuring future legendary L.A. deejays like The Real Don Steele. Greene and Stone hired me to begin publicizing their hot new duo, and I was officially in the publicity business. Once Sonny's "Look At Me" (which was composed and recorded hastily after Sonny was thrown out of the Music Biz Hangout Martoni's) and the instant monster "I Got You Babe" hit the airwaves, national magazines came sniffing around, and a story on this new Rock, including The Supremes, Righteous Brothers, and the newcomers, Sonny & Cher, broke in the magazine LOOK.

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