Stories That Should Be Told (3) Jim Sullivan Jim Sullivan 'U.F.O.', ''U.F.O.'' [1969]
Jim Sullivan, the rocker who was abducted by aliens.
On March 4, 1975, Jim Sullivan said goodbye to his wife Barbara and his son Chris and set off from L.A. to Nashville. His career wasn’t taking off; he had some contacts in Nashville and hoped to work as a session musician.
Yet his gigs at the Raft Club always attracted the right crowd: the good folks from New Hollywood, musicians, beautiful girls, artists…
He had become friends with Harry Dean Stanton, had a small part in "Easy Rider," and got into Phil Spector’s circle, who provided him with his legendary Wrecking Crew to record his first LP.
What came out was a masterpiece.
No, I’m not exaggerating: a masterpiece. Gene Clark meets Tony Joe White, Tim Hardin with acid guitar riffs, strings and baroque arrangements that seem to be the work of David Axelrod. And a songwriting blessed with inspiration. Songs that speak of desert, solitude, and journeys, and that title: "UFO." All of these things would take on a more absurd than sinister tone considering what would happen.
Because the record went unnoticed, ending up in the pile of “forgotten masterpieces.” Jim tried again with a second album under his name, produced by Hugh Hefner (yes, that Hugh Hefner from “Playboy”), but it didn’t go anywhere.
So we arrive at that March 4, 1975, when Jim, loaded his Volkswagen Beetle with his belongings (guitar, a few clothes, a box with his records and little else), sets off for Nashville. That evening, a police patrol stops him somewhere in New Mexico, finds him clean on alcohol and drug tests, but orders him to find a place to sleep and rest. Jim checks into a hole of a motel, the "La Mesa," down in Santa Rosa, but before going to bed, he decides to look for some vodka.
He will never return to the motel. On March 6, his car is found 26 km away, in the middle of nowhere. Inside are Jim’s things: his guitar, records, wallet, a notebook with his lyrics, his clothes…
No trace of Jim.
His body will never be found.
Where is Jim? Did he get lost, drunk, in the desert? Did he end up in the wrong place at the wrong time (there was the ranch of a certain Gennetti family in the area, rumored to be connected to the mafia, and bad luck, as we know, never goes on vacation)?
Or could it have been aliens who wanted to meet up close that guy who had sung so beautifully about them?
Jim Sullivan, the rocker who was abducted by aliens.
On March 4, 1975, Jim Sullivan said goodbye to his wife Barbara and his son Chris and set off from L.A. to Nashville. His career wasn’t taking off; he had some contacts in Nashville and hoped to work as a session musician.
Yet his gigs at the Raft Club always attracted the right crowd: the good folks from New Hollywood, musicians, beautiful girls, artists…
He had become friends with Harry Dean Stanton, had a small part in "Easy Rider," and got into Phil Spector’s circle, who provided him with his legendary Wrecking Crew to record his first LP.
What came out was a masterpiece.
No, I’m not exaggerating: a masterpiece. Gene Clark meets Tony Joe White, Tim Hardin with acid guitar riffs, strings and baroque arrangements that seem to be the work of David Axelrod. And a songwriting blessed with inspiration. Songs that speak of desert, solitude, and journeys, and that title: "UFO." All of these things would take on a more absurd than sinister tone considering what would happen.
Because the record went unnoticed, ending up in the pile of “forgotten masterpieces.” Jim tried again with a second album under his name, produced by Hugh Hefner (yes, that Hugh Hefner from “Playboy”), but it didn’t go anywhere.
So we arrive at that March 4, 1975, when Jim, loaded his Volkswagen Beetle with his belongings (guitar, a few clothes, a box with his records and little else), sets off for Nashville. That evening, a police patrol stops him somewhere in New Mexico, finds him clean on alcohol and drug tests, but orders him to find a place to sleep and rest. Jim checks into a hole of a motel, the "La Mesa," down in Santa Rosa, but before going to bed, he decides to look for some vodka.
He will never return to the motel. On March 6, his car is found 26 km away, in the middle of nowhere. Inside are Jim’s things: his guitar, records, wallet, a notebook with his lyrics, his clothes…
No trace of Jim.
His body will never be found.
Where is Jim? Did he get lost, drunk, in the desert? Did he end up in the wrong place at the wrong time (there was the ranch of a certain Gennetti family in the area, rumored to be connected to the mafia, and bad luck, as we know, never goes on vacation)?
Or could it have been aliens who wanted to meet up close that guy who had sung so beautifully about them?
lector
19 sep 18
DeRank ™: 21,87
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