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- [00:00]
Jake Brennan
Foreign.
- [00:05]
Double Elvis.
- [00:08]
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- [02:07]
Jake Brennan
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- [02:07]
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- [02:39]
Jake Brennan
Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis.
- [02:57]
This is a story about Christmas. It's a story about guns and about pain in control. About how a kid from the Bronx made a wall of sound and then made the holidays sound bigger than they ever had before. It's about how fame turns to fear and fear turns to violence. And it's about the fine line between immortality and infamy. This is a story about Phil Spector. So naturally, it's a story about great music. Some of the most groundbreaking and influential music of the last 60 years. Unlike that clip I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my melotron called electric hairpiece mk2. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to Deep Purple by Nino Tempo and April Stevens. And why would I play you that specific slice of Richie Blackmore inspiring cheese? Could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on November 22, 1963. And that was the day that Phil Spector released the album A Christmas Gift for you. His attempt to cement his young legacy on the charts and in the minds of millions, only to have his music overshadowed by one of the darkest days in American history. An omen of the even darker days to come.
- [04:34]
On this episode, a wall of sound, guns, fear, violence, great Christmas music and Phil Spector. I'm Jake Brennan and this is Disgrace.
- [05:11]
February 3, 2003. Alhambra, California. 50,000 volts of electricity ripped through Phil Spector's 63 year old body. Within seconds, his knees gave up. He dropped to the floor. His vision was blurry, but he could now feel the cop who just tasered him, cuffing his hands behind his back. This was his house. His castle, actually. The famed Pyrenees Castle. A castle fit for a king. Or more accurately in Spector's case, fit for a legendary record producer.
- [05:50]
Phil Spector lived up on high on a hill overlooking the San Gabriel Valley. 10 bedrooms, 10 bathrooms, turrets, spires, mirrored walls, crystal chandeliers. It was part gothic, part romantic, part relic of the past. But it was his. And the police just walked right in like they owned the place.
- [06:14]
They saw the woman's body slumped in an ivory brocade chair. They saw all the blood, the teeth, scattered all over the floor of the foyer. And then they saw Phil Spector standing there, his white jacket splattered with blood. They told him to put his hands Up. He did not comply. He hated cops. He hated cops ever since they made life hell for his good friend Lenny Bruce. Rest in peace. So fuck you, Ahambra pd. That's the moment the cop fired the Taser. And that's when the pain really set in. Life was pain. Phil Spector knew pain as early as nine years old, when his father parked his car on the side of the road in Brooklyn, pumped in the exhaust through a rubber tube in the driver's side window and suffocated on the fumes. And then, years later, when his own son, Philip Jr. Died of leukemia, Phil Spector knew the pain never really went away. And now, face down on the cold floor of his castle, Phil had to push past the pain of the Taser to realize that he was being placed under arrest on suspicion of murder. At this point, the cops had found the bloody.38 caliber Cobra revolver in the nine other guns Phil kept in the house. Phil Spector loved guns. Just ask John Lennon, Debbie Harry, Dee Ramone, Leonard Cohen, Cher, or any other musician who'd once had a gun pulled on them by one of the 20th century's most consequential figures in popular music. It was true. Phil Spector loved guns. But there was one thing he loved even more than guns. Christmas.
- [08:05]
As an orchestrated rendition of Silent Night played in his headphones, Phil Spector leaned into the microphone. Phil's right hand, studio engineer Larry Levine, hit record. The tape rolled. Phil Spector spoke in his nasal, high pitched voice. Hello, this is Phil Spector. It's Christmas, so why don't you go fuck yourselves? In reality, it wasn't Christmas. Not quite yet. It was August 1963, outside the walls of Gold Star Studios in Hollywood. The mercury topped 103 degrees. Inside, though, it was freezing. Phil had cranked the AC in hopes that it would help the many musicians and singers involved in creating his new Christmas album get into the holiday spirit. But Phil Spector, for one, may have gotten a little too much into the spirit. I made this for you, he said into the microphone as the tape kept rolling. You cocksuckers. Phil began to laugh hysterically. Larry Levine hit Stop on the tape machine. Come on, Phil, he said. You can't say that. And also, this monologue of yours is already like five minutes long. You gotta cut it down.
- [09:17]
The monologue that Larry was referring to was Phil's spoken word contribution to the final track of the record. It was Phil's way of making sure that listeners knew who was really the brains behind the operation. Not the Ronettes and Not the Crystals, but the so called tycoon of teen, the self made millionaire who made his bones producing hit records for the teenage set. He called them little symphonies for the kids.
- [09:45]
At just 23 years old himself, Phil Spector was serious about his groundbreaking, overwhelming Wall of Sound style, which for the first time in pop music history, really exploited all the amenities of the recording studio for maximum emotional effect. A Phil Spector record was known for its layers of instruments, strings, an echo, and a collection of Christmas songs would be no different. Because this record wasn't just a cynical holiday cash grab. It wasn't some phoned in Andy Williams bullshit. It was a proof of vision. Phil Spector was going to make the greatest, most musically sophisticated Christmas record ever released. He hoped it would be as big as Irving Berlin's White Christmas. Not only the biggest selling Christmas song of all time, but the biggest selling song of all time, period.
- [10:36]
White Christmas was immortal, thus Irving Berlin was immortal too. That was the kind of immortality that Phil Spector aspired to.
- [10:46]
So he booked Gold star Studios. For six weeks he worked 1516 hour days, seamlessly weaving together a joyous tapestry of horns, strings, sleigh bells, LA's greatest session musicians, the Wrecking Crew and the voices of beehive hair dude beauties like Darlene Love and that one girl he had a crush on, Ronnie Bennett, even though Phil himself was a newlywed. But although the music was joyous, the ways in which he achieved that sound were often less so. He demanded take after take to get it just right. He punched the talkback button. Stop.
- [11:25]
Take it again from.
- [11:30]
Stop, take it again from the top.
- [11:35]
Stop, take it again from the top.
- [11:41]
He pushed every player to their limits. And when it all got to his head, which it often did, when his ego and his ambition made him feel godlike, so powerful that even he thought for a moment that he could actually say, go fuck yourselves. On his monologue for the album's final track, he had guys like Larry Levine who brought him back down to earth. It was Larry Levine who said, quote, the Christmas album is a period I don't remember with pleasure. But Phil Spector didn't really care about all that. This record was his statement of purpose. And when it was released In November of 1963, it would blow the Irving Berlins and Andy Williams's right out of the water and cement Phil Spector as the musical force to be reckoned with. And then.
- [12:32]
Sponsor/Ad Voice
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- [12:34]
Jake Brennan
In Dallas, Texas, three shots were fired at President Kennedy's motorcade in downtown Dallas.
- [12:40]
Sponsor/Ad Voice
The first reports say that President Kennedy.
- [12:43]
Jake Brennan
Has been seriously wounded by this shooting.
- [12:49]
The assassination of President John F. Kennedy just so happened to coincide with the release of Phil Spector's holiday album, A Christmas Gift for you. Retail sales came to a halt, radio stations broke format for days, replacing pop music with round the clock news. And as a result, the record did not sell as expected, but even more crushing for its creator, and it did not make Phil Spector immortal. Phil Spector was instead reminded of his own mortality because he had failed and he was now once again in pain. So much pain, in fact, that the accepted narrative claims that Phil pulled all copies of A Christmas Gift for you from record store shelves across the country. But do a little digging, and it seems that this is nothing but a myth, one that's been perpetuated over the years by biographers and perhaps out there by Phil himself in order to control the narrative about why the record didn't sell well upon its initial release. Because if you look at the data from the trade charts, During December of 1963, the album was number 13 on Billboard's seasonal list and in the top five on Cashbox's seasonal survey. What died that weekend wasn't the record so much as the moment hit radio went silent, commerce screeched to a halt, and by the time America went back to normal, the window had nearly closed. And so had Phil Spector's odds at achieving immortality. But Phil was nothing if not tenacious. He knew he would create another opportunity in which he could take another shot. And this one would be huge. Bigger than Christmas. Big enough that the whole world would take notice.
- [14:58]
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- [15:11]
Jake Brennan
Good different.
- [15:12]
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- [15:28]
Jake Brennan
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Jake Brennan
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- [15:58]
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- [16:32]
Jake Brennan
Big Jim slammed his big fist down on the desk. Papers went flying, a rotary phone fell onto the floor and Phil Spector, who had just been seated behind the desk, leapt to his feet in shock. Big Jim was not around. He was a thug and pleaded khakis. He rolled up his sleeves and started to come around to the other side of the desk, obviously eager to wring Phil Spector's neck. Phil panicked and began to distance himself defensively. What the hell do you want? Big Jim laughed. It's not what I want. It's what Joe Scandori wants. And I'm the guy who makes sure that Joe Scandori gets what he wants. Joe Scandori? As in the well connected business associate of the Genovese crime family, who also just so happened to be the manager of the vocal group the Crystals who were signed to Phil Spector's independent record label. Big Jim grabbed both ends of the desk with his big palms. It looked like he was either about to vault over it or toss it to the side. And do you know what Joe Scandori wants? Phil thought about making a run for it, but he knew that Big Jim would squash him like a size 15 steel toed boot on a scattering cockroach. So he just stayed where he was, opposite his momentary tormentor, trying not to look like he was about to piss his pants. Joe Scandori wants you to deliver this fucking single by the Crystals that you owe him and he wants you to do it right now. And you better do it because if you don't, I'm gonna kill your fucking mother and then I'm coming back here to break your legs.
- [18:08]
A few weeks later, In August of 1962, Phil Spector's record label released the Crystal's latest single, He's a Rebel. But here's the thing. The girls who actually sang on that single, they weren't the Crystals. They were the Blossoms, featuring the great Darlene Love on lead for years this remained a secret, and the reason that it happened in the first place was because Phil Spector was terrified that Joe Scandori's muscle, Big Jim, was going to make good on his promise to maim and kill if Phil didn't release something by the Crystals. And since he had a recording of the Blossoms already in the can, putting that out under the Crystal's name seemed the easiest and swiftest way to avoid Big Jim's bloody retribution. And despite the discrepancy between the name on the label and the voices in the record's grooves, He's a rebel. The song became the second single produced by Phil Spector to hit number one. The Crystal's next single, which actually was performed by the Crystals. This time the Do Run Run hit number three, and then the Ronettes, excellent Be My Baby made it to number two. Both of those songs in 1963, Be My Baby in particular, was the Helen of troy of early 60s pop. The song that launched a thousand ships, as it were, or more accurately, the song that inspired upstarts like the Beach Boys, Brian Wilson and the Beatles John Lennon to reach new creative heights. The next time Phil Spector would see one of his productions hit the top of the pop chart, however, was with The Righteous Brothers 1964 single you've lost that loving feeling, a number one smash in both the United States and the UK. You've lost that loving feeling, Be My Baby, Da Do Run Run and He's A Rebel all shared the same thing. Phil Spector's unmistakable wall of sound, which was achieved by doubling or sometimes tripling instruments like an acoustic piano, an electric piano and harpsichord, all playing the same part simultaneously. The resulting sound was massive, as big and expressive as the dramatic melancholy of 1960s teenage life, and it exploded from jukeboxes in car radio speakers in 1966. The Wall of sound grew bigger than ever at the Gold Star session for Phil's production of Ike and Tina Turner's version of River Deep Mountain High. Four guitarists, three bass players, three pianos, two drummers, multiple percussionists, close to two dozen musicians in total played in that room together at top volume. And after Tina Turner matched the musician's energy level with a performance so so feverish and sweaty that she stripped down to her bra, and after the final product had been drenched in that patented wall of sound echo. River Deep Mountain High was undeniably a masterpiece. A Phil Spector masterpiece.
- [21:08]
But the decade was changing fast. The teenagers Phil made his music for were moving on. Beatles wrestlemania had completely rearranged the Musical landscape and the British Invasion was all the rage. In 1966, during a summer which stripped down, songs by the Rascals, the Mamas and the Papas and the Rolling Stones dominated the pop chart. The overstuffed River Deep Mountain High stalled at number 88. It was the worst charting single of Phil Spector's now eight year career.
- [21:42]
The failure was a gut punch. This was the Christmas album fiasco all over again. Maybe it was complicated by the fact that he tried to sign the Rolling Stones to his record label, Phil Les Records, but was stonewalled by the chairman of their UK label. Either way, this time Phil Spector took it personally. In an interview with the New York Times that very year, he said he'd lost interest in the record business. That's like a fish saying that he's lost interest in water.
- [22:15]
With that sudden disinterest came an equal and opposite strong interest in one Ronnie Bennett, the Spanish Harlem girl with the hair and the face and the dark eyes and the red lips and the whole thing. Phil didn't tell her he already had a wife when they began dating. And Ronnie didn't suspect anything because Phil wasn't acting like a married man would act. One time Ronnie left Gold Star Studios with Phil's gopher, a pre famed Sonny Bono, to go grab some burgers. And Phil's jealousy ran so hot that he turned the studio upside down while she was gone, even ripping tape off the reels. Another time, Ronnie went out dancing with Sonny's girl Cher at the Purple Onion, only to have Phil show up in a rage and drag Ronnie from the dance floor. Ronnie saw Phil freak out many a time, but never more than when his friend, the comedian Lenny Bruce was found dead of an overdose. Phil couldn't get over the injustice of it all. Lenny had been arrested, humiliated, vilified, all for a couple of dirty words. Phil saw in Lenny a kindred spirit, someone who was just as much a rebel as he was. Especially when it came to the kinds of rules that their respective industries wanted to implement, impose upon them. With Phil, it was the expectation that he would make hit records like they'd always been made. With Lenny, it was the expectation that he play it clean. And when they both broke the mold like true rebels, this is what they got for it. Rejected by the general public, with poor Lenny here naked on his bathroom floor, a syringe of junk, his only companion during his last breath.
- [23:56]
Phil was so upset about Lennie that he forbade Ronnie from leaving him. She couldn't even go on tour with the Beatles, who had invited the Ronettes to open their American dates for them. So her cousin Lane went in Ronnie's place, and by Christmas of 1966, when the Ronettes, like many other girl groups of their ilk, called it quits for good, it was Ronnie's turn to grieve. Because she had been denied those last few months with the group that bore her name. Phil said he'd make it up to her. He was going to return to the record business that had forsaken him in order to make her a bonafide pop star. Ronnie hoped that Phil was telling the truth, turning a corner even, and for that she was elated. But Ronnie couldn't see what was going on inside of Phil, who she would eventually marry in 1968. Phil Spector was not turning any corners. Phil Spector was now a man defined by his pain. A man frustrated by what he perceived to be a disdainful public reaction to his genius. A man increasingly out of time. He was a man living in a world that had moved on without him. The Beatles, the Stones, the Mamas and the Papas, the Rascals, they were running laps around him while he found himself paying increasing attention to the devil on his shoulder. And also to the devil on his other shoulder. And inside, Phil Spector. Those devils waged a war through all that pain.
- [25:28]
We'll be right back after this.
- [25:30]
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- [25:35]
Jake Brennan
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- [25:53]
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- [26:21]
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Jake Brennan
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- [26:30]
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- [26:55]
Jake Brennan
1979 the Hollywood Hills. Dee Dee Ramone was tired of waiting around. This wasn't New York city. This wasn't 53rd and 3rd, this was the cold and sterile home of Phil Spector, the first of his soon to be notorious mansions. This one nestled in the sunburnt brush high above the Sunset Strip. It's not like the basis for the Ramones couldn't wait. If he had good reason to, Dede could wait on his man for some of that Chinese rock, no problem. He just did. Didn't like waiting on this man. Or the man, if this dinosaur of a record producer was to be believed, who, according to Dee Dee's bandmate, Johnny Ramone, was doing everything ass backwards. Johnny was the one usually calling the shots. And when Johnny spoke, you listened. He thought like he played. He talked like he played. He strategized like he played, which was fast, loud and very brief. Johnny didn't waste notes and he didn't waste your time. When you made a record, according to the wisdom of Johnny Ramone, you got in, you got out, you got it over and done with. Making records was an occupational hazard, an inconvenience at best. But the Ramones were making a record with Phil Spector, who was as laborious and methodical as the leather and denim clad punks were quick and dirty. Phil made Johnny play the same fucking chord over and over again. It felt like some sick joke. And so now Dee Dee found himself just wanting something to do. Something besides all this, sitting and waiting with his dick in his hands. And where was Joey? The Ramones lead singer had been whisked away by Phil hours ago to work on a cover of an old Ronette song.
- [28:44]
DEI stood up and began to wander through the rooms and hallways of Phil's mansion, shouting, joey. Joey, the Are you. Let's get the hell out of here, man.
- [28:54]
Suddenly, Phil Spector appeared from out of the shadows, wearing all black. Long black hair, black goatee, black shades. A big gaudy crucifix hung from his neck, and in his hand he held a revolver. What's the matter, Dee? Dee? Dee nearly laughed. Phil looked ridiculous. Instead, Dede just shook his head, dismissed this crazy motherfucker standing before him with a wave of his hand and told Phil that he was leaving. Phil stepped forward until he was an arm's length from Deedee. He raised the revolver and pushed it squarely into the bass player's chest. Then he spoke. Dee Dee.
- [29:36]
You ain't going nowhere.
- [29:41]
Dee Dee and the rest of the Ramones were quickly discovering what others before them already knew. That the producer, Phil Spector, was fucking nuts. Their friends and blondie knew it. Just a few years earlier, Phil invited them back here to his mansion after a show at the Whiskey, and then held him at gunpoint, even at one point sticking the butt of his.45 down Debbie Harry's body. Boot. Leonard Cohen knew it when Phil pulled a piece on him while they were making the album Death of a Ladies Man. Actually, Phil grabbed Leonard's neck and then stuck the butt of a gun against the singer's head and said, leonard, I love you. Cher knew it when she confronted Phil over some of her recordings he had legally released, and he responded by twirling a revolver on his finger. George Harrison never saw it, while he and Phil made All Things Must Pass, one of the greatest solo records by a Beatle. But George's friend John Lennon sure did. Phil showed up at a session for John's solo album, Rock and Roll, dressed like a surgeon and wildly fired his pistol at the studio ceiling. And all this, of course, after he caused the typically stoned and docile Paul McCartney to fly off the handle and compose the angriest letter of his career when Phil molested the master tapes of the Beatles final album, Let It Be.
- [31:00]
But perhaps no one knew about Phil Spector better than his wife, Ronnie. Phil rarely let Ronnie leave the house. He locked her in the closet when he had company over. On the rare occasion when he did allow her to leave, he placed an inflatable man doll in the front passenger seat of her car so it appeared that he was driving around with her. And perhaps there is no better example of the extent of his fucked upness than when he bought a solid gold coffin for his wife, Ronnie, and then showed it to her, making sure to point out that it was equipped with a glass top so that he could keep an eye on her even after she was dead. And by the time Phil was working with the Ramones, Ronnie had long since done what she had been afraid to do for a long time. Afraid because she knew about Phil's insane jealousy, about his anger, volatility, and about how that mixture, along with some alcohol and a house full of loaded firearms, could prove deadly. But she was able to leave unscathed. And as the 1970s flew by and punk rock broke, Ronnie came to expect those monthly alimony checks from Phil, the ones that were always stamped with the words fuck you on the back. Juvenile, yes. But she'd take it over the way he used to pay her. $1,200, delivered entirely in nickels by a couple of heavies carrying shotguns. But I digress.
- [32:28]
In 1979, five years after his split with Ronnie was made official Phil Spector needed a new target. Unfortunately for them, it became the Ramones. And like I said, punk may have broken, but Phil was doing his best part to break punk by remaking the band and his image. Obviously the Ramones were aligned with the lineage of girl groups like the Ronettes, but it was as though Phil was stuck in the past and hell bent on dragging the boys back there with him. That said, the resulting album, End of the Century, is pretty fucking awesome, even if it's not a true romance. Ramon's album in the sense that Phil brought in other drummers and guitar players for some songs, as well as a keyboardist and a saxophonist. It took them three weeks to make the album. Joey said it was interminable. With the exception of his minor involvement on Yoko Ono's album Season of Glass in the 1980s, not to mention a failed attempt at working with Celine Dion in the 90s and two tracks for a Star Sailor album in the two 2000s, the Ramones record was the last full album of new material Phil Spector ever produced. For decades, he was largely absent from the musical landscape. He was a relic in an industry that was constantly moving forward. He became a fetish of so called audio purists, synonymous with that back to mono slogan which campaigned for a heyday that had been lost just as quickly as it had been defined. But to show him that he mattered, at least as an important notch on the timeline of 20th century popular music, that same industry inducted Phil Spector into the Rock and Roll hall of fame in 1989. It was recognition. It was a plaque on a wall somewhere in Ohio. But it wasn't eternal. It wasn't White Christmas. And that's what Phil Spector had always wanted, to be remembered for eternity. And so he went and he got what he wanted. But he had to do something else in order to get it. Because to truly grasp at eternity, to hold it in his hands, he had to also take infamy along with it. Which is what he did. And when, at long last, he seized eternity and infamy, he did it with a gun.
- [35:03]
Hey guys, earlier in this episode, I mentioned an incident in which Phil Spector shot his gun into the ceiling while making a record with John Lennon. The whole story around Phil and John's relationship is much crazier than that little nugget there, believe it or not, and we simply didn't have time to get into it in this episod. No problem. That's why we have mini episodes. And you can hear that story about the wild Shenanigans of Phil Spector and John Lennon, which is full of debauchery and brazen theft and near death. You can hear all about it in a brand new mini episode, like I said, of Disgraceland, available right now. Our mini episodes are created exclusively for our All Access members. So to hear this mini episode and hear every mini episode each week, just go to Disgracelandpod.com to sign up. All right, now back to this story about Phil Spector.
- [35:50]
In the wee hours of February 3, 2003, at the age of 63 years old, Phil Spector still thought of himself as a rebel, just like the one in that Blossom Crystals song. Only this time his rebellion wasn't taking place inside a recording studio as it had four decades earlier. This time he was rocking that rebel attitude by going in the wrong door at the House of Blues on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles. This was the door you went through. If you were somebody, you had to be worthy to go through that door. Phil Spector wasn't on the House of Blues VIP list that night, but that didn't matter to him. He was a VIP in the larger cultural sense, at least in his own mind. At first the club staff told him he wasn't allowed in the room, but then one of the waitresses did recognize him and suddenly everyone's tune changed. Suddenly Phil was being led to a seat and poured a stiff glass of Bacardi 151. He could hear Judas Priest, Rob Halford wrapping up his set in the performance room there at the venue. But all that hell bent for leather shit, that wasn't for Phil. Besides, Phil was too busy making eyes at one waitress in particular, the six foot tall blonde with piercing eyes and legs for days. Lana Clarkson was a 40 year old struggling actress who had never quite reached the Hollywood dream. She'd spent her adult life chasing B movies, Roger Corman Productions, films with titles like Barbarian Queen. This was what she'd come to expect as her lot in life. Side hustles like this House of Blues gig were necessary to keep the lights on, and the work wasn't as risky as the work she'd allegedly done a decade earlier as a call girl who commanded upwards of $1,000 an hour. Now, maybe Lana Clarkson had heard of Phil Spector before. It's hard to know, but after Phil made repeated advances during his brief stay there at the House of Blues that night, Lana eventually accepted his invitation to go home with him to his castle on a hill some 14 miles away in nearby Alhambra. The pair climbed into the backseat of Phil's black Mercedes limousine and his driver, Adriano D', Souza, put it in drive. It was 2:30 in the morning.
- [38:10]
The bright lights of Los Angeles receded in the distance and now was all strip malls, single stories, bungalows. Now Hamburg was fast asleep. A little over an hour passed, and soon Lana Clarkson could see the huge iron gates that created a physical and metaphorical barrier around Phil's otherworldly castle. Adriano pulled the limo up to the house. Phil and Lana got out, and then they walked up the 88 stone steps to the castle's front door. Lana didn't even think to wonder if that number 88 was intentional, done on purpose to match the number of keys on a piano. Was it mere coincidence, just like her presence here right now? Had this all been planned in advance? Was it in the cards, cosmically speaking? Or was it as completely random as it seemed? Like I said, she wasn't thinking these things because her mind was racing to simply take in what she was seeing. As they walked through the enormous front door and into the ornate foyer, the marble flooring, the crystal chandeliers, the white piano in the decorative suit of armor, and an ivory brocade chair.
- [39:24]
Outside. Adriano had pulled the limo around back, where he was now waiting, because technically, he was still on the clock. The soft, meditative purr of the engine was suddenly rattled by a loud crack coming from inside the castle. Adriano was startled. He threw open the driver's door and jumped from the limo just as his boss, Phil Spector, was coming out of the back door. Phil was holding a revolver in his hand. Phil stood there in the early morning darkness, the sun just beginning to push up against the cold horizon. And with a blank stare on his face, Phil Spector looked at Adriano and said, I think I killed somebody.
- [40:04]
Minutes later, Alhambra PD discovered Lana Clarkson's dead body slumped in that ivory brocade chair with a single gunshot wound to her mouth. Phil Spector would go on to claim that Lana Clarkson had drunkenly played around with the.38 Colt Cobra Revolver that killed her, even kissing it in the moment before she accidentally shot herself. But the evidence said otherwise. And after two trials and after a jury deliberated for 30 hours, Phil Spector was found guilty of second degree murder on April 13, 2009. He got 19 years to life.
- [40:45]
Eight months later, on December 23rd of that same year, Darlene Love, formerly of the Blossoms, one of the groups shepherded by a young Phil Spector, appeared as the musical guest on the Late show with David Letterman. As was letterman's tradition since 1986. Every December, right before the holiday, Darlene would come on the show to perform her song Christmas baby, please come home. One of the highlights from philosopher Phil Spector's A Christmas gift for you album. This year, however, Phil Spector's name was not mentioned on the televised broadcast. This was Darlene Love's song. This was Darlene Love's moment. And for all the studio audience knew, hell for all the world knew as they watched from home. Phil Spector had nothing to do with this. This Christmas album was once the thing that Phil Spector hoped would make him remembered for eternity. But now all Phil Spector was known for was being a disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan and this is Disgrace.
- [42:12]
All right, guys, thanks for checking out this episode of Disgraceland. This week's question of the week. I want to know from all y', all, what are you listening to? What are your go to Christmas songs, Christmas albums? I'm hoping to hear some, some, some out there, kind of you unique esoteric recommendations from you guys. I want to get turned on to some Christmas music that I'm not currently aware of that I'm not listening to. We love Christmas music in the house. We got it playing constantly. But I want your Christmas tune recommendations. All right, hit me up 617-90-66638. You might hear your voice on the next bonus episode, the afterparty episode of Disgrace. And you can also text me at that number. Hit me at disgracelandpod on the socials. You guys want exclusive content content from Disgraceland. You want AD free listening? You want that mini episode? Go to DisgracelandPod.com and become an all Access member today. All right guys, here comes some credits. Disgraceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page@gracelandpod.com Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and Facebook @Disgracelandpod and on YouTube at YouTube.com Disgracelandpod Rocka Rolla.
- [43:27]
He's a bad, bad man.