James Lee Stanley

In August of 1972, I recorded my first album as James Lee Stanley, recording artist. I had actually begun my recording career years earlier in high school, when Frank Guida of LeGrand Records (Gary U S Bonds, Daddy G and the Church Street Five) signed my sisters and I after seeing us on a TV Telethon. I remember that Jayne Mansfield was the celebrity that was there while I was there and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. But I digress.

After recording the eponymous debut, I moved to Santa Cruz from Los Angeles and waited for it to come out, while they began to put things into motion impacted their limited PR buget and few west coast contacts.

The album was released on January 23,1973 and I got my first booking as an official solo recording artist at McCabes Guitar Shop in Santa Monica. I was to be the opening act for jazz great, Les Paul, the weekend of February 22&23.  The Les Paul guitar  by Gibson has been a rock and roll staple for decades.  He is legend.

Back then there weren’t so very many acts, so we were frequently booked for a full weekend at venues like McCabes, while regular clubs with bars would book us for a week or two. Now in Los Angeles (and all the cities for that matter) they sometimes book eight acts in one night, all of whom are expected to bring their own constituency.

If the club owners had any perspicacity, they would over lap the schedule so that various audiences would be forced to hear someone they didn’t know in order to hear someone they knew. That’s how you expose new acts to new audiences. But I digress.

In any event, I was Les Paul’s opening act. I was thrilled. I had heard his recordings with Mary Ford when I was a small boy and was amazed at how he was creating these different sounds by doing overdubbing, so that one voice could sing harmony with itself. That had never happened before, so his recordings, which were magic enough to begin with, were even more mysterious and magical.

She would do these harmonies with herself and he would do all this overdubbed guitar and it sounded like nothing else out there.

I went to the venue early, as is my habit, and proceeded to unpack my stuff and get ready for sound check. I was playing a 1941 Gibson J-50 at the time, a beautiful guitar which I still have.

About forty five minutes before they opened the concert hall, Les Paul walked in and did a sound check that didn’t last more than ten or fifteen minutes.

I stood at the side of the stage and waited to shake his hand. He came over, as gracious as can be, a dapper small framed man from Waukesha, Wisconsin.

I was holding my guitar, which he remarked upon and then I excused myself and went to do my sound check. He listened for a bit, smiled at me and with a little wave, went off to his dressing room.

I remember I was so nervous meeting him, that after soundcheck, I went out and found a liquor store and bought a pint of brandy, which I brought back to the dressing room, took a swig of and then put in my guitar case. Maybe I’ll always keep a pint in there, I remember thinking.

The show went okay for me and great for Les. I was nervous as this was a crowd of jazz guitarists and jazz afficianados and I was a singer songwriter, so I didn’t reach them like I had hoped.

I remember at the end of the evening, I was in my dressing room which faced the street. The window was open, though the blinds were closed. I was standing there with that pint of brandy in my hands after taking another swig and two guys passed by talking about the show. I could clearly hear them talking about how great Les was, then, just as they got by my window, the one asked the other what he thought of the opening act?

Loser, the other replied. Ouch!

I looked at the pint in my hand. Put the lid back on and placed the pint in the trash can. Right then and there, I decided to prove them wrong.