All of it
came at a price, though, that left him, in the words of screenwriter-director
Cameron Crowe (a friend since interviewing him for Rolling Stone) “strapped
to the nose cone of rock 'n' roll.”
It wasn’t
a case of success too soon—Frampton’s lack of a commercial breakthrough after
four solo LPs had left him craving more. But it was a case of too much, as the
25-year-old loathed himself for following management’s urging to follow up with
an ill-conceived studio album and a film adaptation of the Beatles’ Sergeant
Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
The lack of preparation for overwhelming success contrasted enormously with his careful buildup as a live performer.
As the opening act for a number of more seasoned
performers—Edgar Winter, J. Geils, ZZ Top, and “the best teacher” Steve
Marriott—Frampton “learned something new from every act—how they got the
audience going, how they built their set. I would steal stuff from everyone,
watch how they would say certain things and what reaction they would get.”
The
original plan was to have a single LP of his live performances. But he was
persuaded to add more songs to fill out a second disk—notably, “Baby I Love
Your Way” and “Show Me the Way,” which became hit singles that lifted the
collection into the sales stratosphere.
“Show Me
the Way” featured the distinctive sound of Frampton’s electric guitar filtered
through a “Talk Box,” as did the third single, “Do You Feel Like We Do.”
The news
that the album hit #1 in April initially made Frampton euphoric: “Career-wise
this was the best news I could ever hear—I was in shock.” Then self-doubt began
to creep in: “I couldn’t help listening to the man on my other shoulder
whispering, ‘How are you going to follow this one up, buddy?’”
By the end
of the road tour to promote Frampton Comes Alive!, the new rock idol was
feeling utterly frazzled. In an interview this month with Christopher
Scapelliti of Guitar Player, Frampton reflected, “The biggest
mistake was just not shutting down at that point.”
But he
yielded to the advice of manager Dee Anthony that he get back into the
studio and record I’m in You, even though he felt he didn’t have enough
good songs at that point to put out a full disk.
The
influence of Anthony—who, according to Frampton, was connected to organized crime—was malign
in other ways, as perhaps indicated by his listing on this 2019 list of “Classic Rock Musicians Who Got Ripped Off by Managers and Record Labels Part 1.”
Anthony had
“three rules of success” cited in Fred Goodman’s 1997 account of the business
of rock ‘n’ roll, The Mansion on the Hill: “The first thing is, get
the money. The second thing is to remember to get the money. The third thing…is
always remember to get the money.”
His ultimate
aim was to steer clients away from thinking about their finances, and he had a
surefire means of doing so with Frampton, the musician remembered:
“I was
kept high. If I needed weed, he [Anthony] made sure I had weed. If I needed
cocaine, he made sure I had cocaine. He didn’t want me thinking about what was
going on. It was criminal. I could have put him in jail.”
A 1978 car
crash almost killed Frampton, and it took 20 years for him to shake his alcohol
and drug addictions. The story of his rise and fall sounds like an episode of Behind
the Music (and in fact, in the year 2000, it was an episode of the long-running VH-1 series).
Only that
wasn’t the end for him. He rediscovered his love of music when he became lead
guitarist on tour for longtime friend David Bowie in 1987; released several
well-received solo albums in the 1990s; acted in Crowe’s Oscar-winning Almost
Famous; and published Do You Feel Like I Do?, a memoir notable for
its honesty and thoughtfulness.
In 2024,
Frampton was elected to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame, and as I wrote in this blog post at the time, “few have reacted with as much modesty and gratitude”
to this honor. His 2019. Frampton disclosure that he was diagnosed with the
inflammatory muscle disease Inclusion-Body Myositis left many fans wishing him
nothing but the best, and glad that they could see him perform for as long as
his health permits.

I have clear memories of running out to the record store to buy Frampton Comes Alive—and many energized conversations about how he sang through his guitar (as well as what he was singing). His story reminds me of the horrors Brian Wilson endured as a result of the management of his abusive father and even worse manager. Areal testament that these artists recovered and lived on to create.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Anne. Yes, talent managers have often been the bane of rock 'n' rollers. The movie "Almost Famous" has a great scene of a big-shot, unscrupulous one diving in on an up-and-coming band.
Delete