Like a lot of young girls, I used to fall in desperate puppy love with various musicians: Paul McCartney and Peter Tork were a couple of my mental main squeezes. As I got a bit older, my tastes started to change. Puberty started to turn my world around, and although I knew it was going to happen, I wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. My childhood was tormented and I escaped into music. I was a huge fan of the Electric Light Orchestra when I was a teenager, mainly because of their drummer Bev Bevan. The crush started as most teen crushes do; I collected every picture of Bev I could find, I bought every ELO LP and I watched them whenever they made a US TV appearance. Luckily for me, they were a huge success in the 1970s, so it was fairly easy to locate pictures and articles about them.
Because of my childhood issues, puberty did not come into my consciousness easily. The thought of an actual male in my vicinity taking an interest in me terrified me beyond words. I felt much safer mooning over rock stars who had no idea that I existed. I wouldn't have any chance of actually having to deal with him in person, because he lived in England and I was in Texas; not to mention the fact that I was 12 and he was in his 30s at the time.
Plus, everything I ever read about Bev was about what a fantastic drummer and a nice man he was; he was not some spoiled rock star poon hound. You never heard stories about him tearing up hotel rooms, being rude to fans or or going after too young girls. He wasn't Jimmy Page, after all. That bit of knowledge made me adore him a little bit more; I never went for "bad boys". I wanted a guy who my Mom would approve of, one whom I felt safe adoring and one who I knew would never hurt me. At 12 years old, I had already had enough pain and hurt for several lifetimes.
I used to read all the rock & roll magazines on the newsstand, so I was well aware of wild man British rock stars. To be true, most of them seemed that way. It was fun to read about Keith Moon destroying a hotel room or Ozzy Osbourne getting wasted, but I'm sure an entirely other thing to have to live with a situation like their wives and families had to deal with. I told myself that anyone who made the music I loved so much and made my life worth living for cannot be a bad person. I guess that makes me a rock and roll apologist.
For the most part, I think I've been right. Musicians in general are caring and sensitive people but they can sometimes find themselves in weird situations that most regular people would have trouble dealing with. That's where the drinking and drugging come in. Fame can exacerbate that as well. The public are largely ignorant of what it's like to be onstage in front of several thousand people when you have the flu, or have to come up with a hit record that's bigger than the last one, or to meet hundreds of people who all want a little piece of you because they saw you on TV or bought your record or wear your t-shirt. On top of all that, your band mates and crew also depend on you for their living. Yes, the musicians get the money and the fame, but they have to pay for it in ways you cannot fathom. Too many people saying "yes" to you too often and not enough saying "no" to you can kill you, ask Elvis Presley, or Jimi Hendrix or Janis Joplin or Jim Morrison or Amy Winehouse or Kurt Cobain or _______________ (insert the name of your fave member of the 27 club here).
I just know that if those guys didn't make their music that meant so much to me and others, I probably would have snuffed it when I was still a teenager. So for that, thanks to Bev Bevan, Keith Moon and Ozzy Osbourne for being great musicians and entertainers, and extra thanks to Bev for being a nice person.
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