The way I was working then, I’d have a loose melody in my head and I’d come up with lyrics to it and then I’d move on. I didn’t work on my songs after one or two rounds.
I was sitting in the living room of my cottage, looking out the window, my songbook in my lap, realizing that if I didn’t start trying—I mean being willing to squeeze out my own blood, sweat, and tears for what I wanted—I’d never be anything, never matter much to anybody.
I called Teddy a few days later, I said, “I’ll record your album. I’ll do it.”
And he said, “It’s your album.” And I realized he was right. The album didn’t have to be exactly my way for it to still be mine.
Simone: One day, when I was back in town, I went over to Daisy’s place at the Marmont and I was in the kitchen and I saw one piece of paper, with a bunch of lyrics scribbled on it, taped to the fridge.
I said, “What’s this?”
Daisy said, “It is my song that I’m working on.”
I said, “Don’t you normally have dozens?”
She shook her head and said, “I’m trying to get this one just right.”
Daisy: It was a big lesson for me when I was young—being given things versus earning them. I was so used to being given things that I didn’t know how important it is for your soul to earn them.
If I can thank Teddy Price for anything—and to be honest, I have to thank him for a lot of things—but if I had to pick one it’s that he made me earn something.
And that’s what I did. I showed up at the studio, I tried to stay relatively sober, and I sang the songs they told me to sing. I didn’t sing them the way they wanted all the time, I gave a little pushback—and I do think the album is better for my having held on to a little bit of my own style. But I did what was asked of me. I played the game.
And when we were done, ten ballads in a pretty little package, Teddy said, “How do you feel?”
And I told him I felt like I’d made something that wasn’t exactly what I’d envisioned, but it was maybe good in its own right. I said it felt like me but it didn’t feel like me and I had no idea whether it was brilliant or awful or somewhere in between. And Teddy laughed and said I sounded like an artist. I liked that.
I asked him what we should call it and he said he didn’t know. I said, “I want to call it First. Because I plan on making a lot more of these.”
Nick Harris: Daisy Jones put out First at the beginning of 1975. They marketed her as a Dusty Springfield wannabe. On the cover, she’s looking in a mirror placed over a pale yellow background.
It wasn’t groundbreaking material, by any means. But looking back on it, you can start to see the grit and the edge under the surface.
Her first single, a version of “One Fine Day,” was more complex than most other takes of the song, and her second single—she recorded a take of “My Way Down”—was warmly received.
I mean, the album is fairly middle of the road but it did what it needed to do. People knew her name. She did a spot on American Bandstand, she did a great spread in Circus with her trademark hoop earrings.
She was gorgeous and outspoken and interesting. The music wasn’t there yet but … you knew Daisy Jones was heading somewhere. Her moment was coming.
Seven
Eight
Nine
1975–1976
Fresh out of rehab and at home with Camila and his new daughter, Billy Dunne started writing songs again. When he had enough material, The Six got back into the studio to record their second album. From June to December of 1975, The Six recorded the ten songs that would become SevenEightNine. But when the band was done, Teddy told them that Rich Palentino did not feel confident they had a number one single on the album.
Billy: It felt like being cut off at the knees. We were ready to go. We were proud of that album.
Eddie: To be honest with you, I was surprised Teddy had not brought this up sooner. I heard the master of the album and it felt soft to me—at least in terms of what we were making songs about. Everything Billy had written was about his family.
Pete said it best. “Rock ’n’ roll is about getting it on with a girl for the first time. Not about making love to your wife.” And that was Pete saying that! He was as whipped as Billy.
Graham: I told Teddy we had a lot of songs that could be good singles. I said, “What about ‘Hold Your Breath’？”
He said, “Too slow.”
I said, “What about ‘Give In’？”
He said, “Too hard rock.”
I kept naming songs and Teddy kept saying that Rich was right. The songs were good but we needed something with crossover appeal. He said we had to aim for number one. Our first album had done well but if we wanted to grow, we needed to aim higher.
I said, “Sure, but we aren’t trying to get to number one, necessarily. That’s for lowest common denominator stuff.”
Teddy said, “You should be aiming to be number one because you’re making the greatest fucking music out there.”
It was a fair point.
Billy: I don’t remember whose idea it was to do a duet. I know I wouldn’t have come up with it.
Eddie: When Teddy said he thought we should make “Honeycomb” a duet, I was even more confused. He was going to take the softest song on the album, add a female vocal to it, and that was going to fix the problem? That just made it even more of a Top 40 thing.
I said to Pete, “I will not be in a fucking soft rock band.”
Billy: “Honeycomb” is a romantic song, but it’s also kind of wistful. I’d written it about the life that I promised Camila. She wanted to move to North Carolina one day, when we were old and settling down. Her mother had grown up there. She wanted to get a place close to the water. Have a big lot of land with the closest neighbor a mile away.
It was a pledge I’d made her. That I would give her that one day. A big farmhouse, lots of kids. Some peace and quiet after all the storms I’d put her through. That’s what “Honeycomb” was about. It didn’t make any sense to have someone else come in on it.
Teddy disagreed. He said, “Write a part for a woman in it. Write what Camila would say back to you.”
Graham: I thought we should give Karen a shot at the duet. She had a great voice.
Karen: I don’t have the kind of voice that can carry a lead part. I can do you a solid and back you up in the chorus but I can’t hold my own.
Warren: Graham was always tripping over himself to pay Karen a compliment. I was always thinking, It’s not gonna happen for you, man. Get over it.
Billy: Teddy had all these ideas about bringing in a woman from the dance club scene. I did not like that.
Karen: Teddy named about ten girls until Billy finally relented. I watched it happen.
Billy was going down the list Teddy had written just going, “No. No. No. Tonya Reading? No. Suzy Smith? No.” And then Billy goes, “Who is Daisy Jones?”
And Teddy got all amped up, said he was hoping Billy would ask that because he thought Daisy was the one.
Graham: Now, I’d heard Daisy sing at the Golden Bear a few months back. I thought she was sexy as hell. Her voice was so raspy and cool. But I didn’t think she fit on the record. She was younger, poppier. I said to Teddy, “Why can’t you get us Linda Ronstadt?” Everybody had a thing for her back then. But Teddy said it should be someone from our label. He said Daisy had a more commercial vibe that we could benefit from.