“If my bitch said she was too tired to work, I said go home.
If she said some john had beat her, I’d find the john and beat his ass. I let the girls go and went back to my music.” He returned to LA with Jay Sebring, “a cat who’d made millions selling hair products,” who agreed to invest in James’ music.
He seemed hypnotized by the flow of his own blood, saying things like, ‘Isn’t the blood beautiful? ’” James, fearing the mystery man would bleed to death, woke Stills, who responded, “Oh, f–k.
One night, Sebring invited James and his girlfriend, Seville, to a party he was attending at Roman Polanski’s house, which was being thrown by the director’s wife, Sharon Tate.
“There was gonna be a big party,” James wrote, “and Jay didn’t want us to miss it.” Unfortunately — or so he thought at the time — James was nursing a horrible hangover that left him barely mobile.
The song was featured in the video game Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas on a fictional funk station, Bounce FM.
Rick James was crashing on Stephen Stills’ couch sometime in the late ’60s when he “awoke to see a young dude sitting on the floor in the lotus position, stoned as a motherf–ker,” with “blood dripping from his wrist.
He met a tall, 19-year-old Swedish girl and found her to be “freedom herself.” But James’ notions of freedom were tested when “her mother walked in her room and joined us in bed.
This was my real introduction to fully realized freakery.” In 1978, James released what became his first Top 20 hit, “You and I,” off his “Come Get It! The album took off, as did the next, and soon James received a royalty check for almost million and bought a mansion once owned by William Randolph Hearst.
But between drugs, women and music, he couldn’t remember to attend his twice-monthly Reserve sessions and found himself ordered to Vietnam.
He fled to Toronto, where he became friends with hot local musicians including then-unknowns Neil Young and Joni Mitchell. “It wasn’t sexual but musical as a motherf–ker,” he wrote.
When he was through,” James recalled, “he said to me, ‘Ricky, meet Jim Morrison.’” In short, Rick James lived a super freaky life, as detailed in his new, posthumously published autobiography, “Glow” (Atria Books).