Eddie Money: In Memory Of..
By Steven P. Wheeler
With yesterday’s death of Eddie Money at the age of 70, only three weeks after publicly announcing that he had been diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer, I fondly recall my handful of visits with the rocker over the past 30 years.
From his flawless self-titled debut album in 1977 featuring two classic rock standards—“Two Tickets to Paradise” and “Baby Hold On”—Money managed to sustain a career that lasted more than 40 years. His plans for this year’s annual summer tour ended with what turned out to be his fatal diagnosis.
His string of hits serves as an impressive link between the eras of FM rock radio and the video world of MTV, and for more than ten years he managed to dominate both. He would ultimately sell more than 30 million albums and score an incessant number of hit singles and memorable album tracks, which is quite staggering: “Can’t Keep a Good Man Down,” “Wanna Be a Rock ‘n’ Roll Star,” “Think I’m in Love,” “Shakin’,” “Take Me Home Tonight,” “I Wanna Go Back,” “The Big Crash,” “Maybe I’m a Fool,” “Gimme Some Water,” “Rock and Roll the Place,” “Get a Move On,” “Trinidad,” “We Should Be Sleeping,” “Walk on Water,” “The Love in Your Eyes,” “Peace in Our Time,” “I’ll Get By,” “She Takes My Breath Away,” “Running Back” and “Endless Nights,” to name just a select few. He moved effortlessly between hard driving rock and synth-based pop, anchored by his soulful and instantly recognizable voice.
Despite critics seemingly lambasting his every artistic move, his massive popularity amongst fans never waned. The New York born Eddie Mahoney was just one of them. This was a blue-collar rocker who happened to scratch his way to the top by just being himself.
Still remembered as one of the most approachable celebs in a world often divided by security walls and bodyguards, Money was also the funniest guy you would ever meet in the world of rock.
“I really don’t consider myself a star,” he told me during our first meeting in 1989. “Michael Jackson’s a star. George Michael’s a star. They’re prisoners of their own careers. I don’t need bodyguards. I’ll take a cab instead of a limo. Limousines are for funerals and weddings, not for rock singers.”
With a colorful mixture of East Coast swagger and West Coast bravado, the former NYC cop turned Berkeley hippie more than paid his dues as he followed his own path to rock stardom. While he would fight his addictions with multiple stops and starts, before achieving lasting sobriety for the last 18 years of his life, what made hanging with Eddie so much fun was that he was real.
The man didn’t put on airs. He was what he was without reservations or apologies. When he fucked up, he talked about it candidly and with a heavy dose of sarcasm and humor. And no topic or person was ever off limits, including comic stabs at himself. Calling him the Rodney Dangerfield of Rock sums up both his success and the lack of respect he most often received from uppity critics.
Talking with Eddie was like strapping yourself into a roller coaster shot out of a cannon. You knew there would be a lot of twists and turns, but it was always gonna be a fun ride and would always exceed your expectations. His outspokenness and anti-PC humor was a welcome relief in a world gone mad.
At one point during our lengthy conversation in a large conference room at Sony Music headquarters in 1991, a time when you could light up inside a building, Money leaned over and asked what kind of cigs I had and if he could bum a smoke from me. When I told him they were Salem Lights, he shrugged, grabbed one from the pack, held it in his fingers like a paper airplane and said: “You know why they call them Salems, right? Because you can sail ‘em,” as he proceeded to throw it across the room.
In short, while Eddie Money may have been a publicist’s nightmare, he was always an interviewer’s dream. He had the gift of gab as they say, and he will be missed. What follows are snippets from various conversations I had with the Money Man between 1989 and 1991.
“When I first changed my name to Eddie Money,” says the former Mr. Mahoney, “I was so broke I was thinking of also changing my first name to Owen. Owen Money. That summed it up for me in those early days.”
The Journey Begins
Born Edward Joseph Mahoney on March 21, 1949, the future Mr. Money grew up on Long Island and followed in the steps of his grandfather, father and brother into a life in the New York City Police Department. But he turned in his badge for a microphone after a couple years and headed to San Francisco in search of rock & roll stardom in the heady days of 1968.
Immersing himself in the Bay Area music scene for the next ten long years, his first big break was winning one of those proverbial Battle of the Bands contests. “I won out of 110 bands. And I said, ‘What’s the prize?’ And they said, ‘You get to play at Winterland [the now legendary club that was run by rock entrepreneur Bill Graham, who would become Money’s manager].’ I said, ‘Have you ever seen that dump with the lights on. What kinda prize is that? I need a record contract.’
“So I went home and wrote ‘Baby Hold On,’ ‘Two Tickets to Paradise’ and ‘Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star’ and I got signed to a management deal with Bill Graham in 1976 and I’ve been with CBS Records, which is now Sony, for 15 years. I’ve been through seven label presidents and the furniture in this conference room has changed five times, but I’m still here. It’s been an amazing ride.”
“I was really surprised that ‘Baby Hold On’ became a hit. I really was, because I wrote that song in a day-and-a-half. Whereas it took me six months to write ‘Two Tickets to Paradise.’ I cranked that song out and it shot up the charts. At one point, I flew into Los Angeles from one of my tour stops, and the red carpet was out. I had no idea, I thought Paul McCartney was standing behind me or something. All the sudden I was this big rock & roll sensation because of that song. I still play ‘Baby Hold On’ in concert, because I love it.”
Stardom Pitfalls
With the double-platinum success of his brilliant debut album that was quickly followed up by the equal success of his excellent sophomore effort, Life for the Taking, the fame and fortune brought along the proverbial sex, drugs and rock & roll lifestyle.
“When I got started in the late ‘70s, there was plenty of women, plenty of vodka, plenty of pot and a little bit of cocaine. Everything was fun. But I never really drank before my shows because when people pay to see me, I don’t want them paying to see some guy falling all over the stage drunk. But after work, forget it, I was a nightmare.
“Let’s put it this way, I came to rock, and what happens when you have some success in this business is you end up drinking for free, you get high for free, you snort for free, and there’s women throwing themselves at you. And when you’re playing all the time for big money and everyone is drinking and doing drugs, and you enjoy doing that, it’s easy to fall into. At one point, I did two shows in Ohio on a weekend and came home with $50,000. That’s a good weekend, right?
“It was a crazy time. I was staying at the Chateau Marmont and hanging out with [John] Belushi and Rickie Lee Jones, spending money like it was coming out of my asshole.”
Eddie Money (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
“But things changed around the time of my third album, Playing For Keeps, in 1980,” he said. “That album cost me half-a-million dollars to make with [producer] Ron Nevison. It was lights out during that period of time because the guy was out of his fuckin’ mind. And so was I. And after that album I became very despondent and disappointed with everything.
“So I did blow and then I did more blow, and then more booze to come down. So then I’d be drunk, so I’d do more blow to get back up, and the whole thing got to be a nightmare. And sometimes my voice would start going out onstage and I’d tell the guys in the band to ‘tune it down to D’ and the guys would be playing rubber bands.
“It was a crazy time. I was staying at the Chateau Marmont and hanging out with [John] Belushi and Rickie Lee Jones, spending money like it was coming out of my asshole.”
The Big Crash
Things came crashing down within a year as Money had an accidental overdose that nearly took his life. “I had a really bad drug overdose,” he explained. “I was drinking a lot one night and thought I was doing cocaine, but it ended up being synthetic barbiturate. So that knocked me unconscious and I was lying there in an awkward position and that blew out the sciatic nerve in my leg and they said I’d never walk again. But I worked my ass off in physical therapy for a long time and I hardly have a limp anymore.
“That’s what the No Control album is about and after that I didn’t get as high as I was before that, but I didn’t learn my lesson of course,” he said, candidly, about his fall from the wagon not too long after recovering from his near fatal OD.
“That album, No Control [released in 1982], was a huge success and I started making a ton of money again and I started up with the drugs again. But for the past four years [1987-91], I don’t drink anymore, I don’t smoke pot, I don’t take pills, I don’t do cocaine. I got three kids now and a wife who will kill me if I do. My focus is trying to stay straight these days.
“I used to get so high that I’d be in the dressing room, hunched over my wardrobe cabinet doing lines of coke, and I’d feel someone behind me saying, ‘Eddie, come on, you’re late for the show’ and I’d turn around and it’s the fuckin’ coat rack!”
Eddie Money (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
“Things got so bad that I was afraid to answer the telephone, ya know. It was just nuts. Now I’m just as crazy, but I’m not getting high. It reaches a point where you ask yourself, ‘How many times am I gonna get away with this?’”
The Roller Coaster
Throughout his 20 year recording career, Money was on a roller coaster of major platinum successes often followed by less successful album sales despite keeping the hit singles coming. “Every time I make a great album, I go out on the road for a year-and-a-half and right when I get off the road, the record company will say, ‘It’s time to make another record,’ and I never have enough time to write, pick the musicians, and I’m really not prepared.
“My first two records went platinum, and then I made Playing For Keeps but that record didn’t really happen. Then I made the No Control record, which was a dynamite record, then I came back and made Where’s the Party? at a time when I didn’t have enough good material.
“Then I made the Can’t Hold Back album in 1986, which is going on double-platinum, then I did the Nothing to Lose album which had ‘Walk On Water’ [another Top Ten hit], but that one just didn’t sell as much. It’s been a cycle like that throughout my career. For the past 15 years, I think I’ve been broke during seven of those years and rich for eight of them.
“When the Nothing to Lose album was done I had just gotten sober for the second time and I wasn’t really used to myself and I was using a lot of outside material. And I remember saying, ‘Look, this is my ass. If I’m gonna lose my record deal, let me lose it with my own material rather than with stuff from outside writers.’
“[Producer] Richie Zito wanted me to record a lot of outside material on that record. I didn’t start recording a lot of outside material until I started working with Richie Zito, beginning with the Can’t Hold Back album, which was very successful. But then they wanted to try and do the same thing with the next album Nothing to Lose. That happens sometimes when producers or the record company get too involved. It’s corporate rock. These people at the label love me and I love the label but they don’t want to take any fuckin’ chances.
“Anyway, so although Nothing to Lose went Gold, I just got tired of the Richie Zitos in the world and all those producers. I didn’t want to use session musicians, I wanted to use my drummer, my bass player, my keyboard player, ya know. When these guys in my band have been touring all over with me, playing every night, and then I go to make a record and I’m surrounded by studio musicians, that fucks up the cha-cha. I just didn’t want to fuck with the cha-cha anymore.”
A New Home
It was around this time that Money finally left his beloved Bay Area for Tinseltown, looking for a change of scenary and a new direction. “Around the time of the Nothing to Lose album in ‘87 I started getting back into the toot and started drinking again. I wasn’t getting along with my wife, and she got pregnant, so I knew I was gonna have a baby. One day I picked up my wife, left the Bay Area, moved to Los Angeles, joined AA and I’ve been sober since then. Knock on wood.
“I started over by coming here. I love the Bay Area, but it’s better for me here in L.A. If I have an interview, like with you today, I just jump in the car and I’m here. I don’t have to make flights and all of that nonsense. It’s just better now.
“Then again, I’ve sold like ten million albums and I’m lucky I still own my saxophone,” he said about his financial situation in 1991. “I’ve been through a divorce with my first wife when I had a house up north with dobermans, rottweilers, a pool, a tennis court; that’s all gone, along with the ex. Now I’m holding my ass down in a 5,000 square foot house in Westlake, California. The neighbor across the street went to Harvard, the next door neighbor went to Princeton, and they’re like, ‘What the fuck is this guy doing here?’”
Fighting the Power
Still, he has had to deal with record company demands that don’t always sit well with the veteran performer, like when his first greatest hits album came out in 1989, [Greatest Hits: The Sound of Money], and he was forced to record a handful of new songs as a way to try and bolster sales.
“Instead, I had to put this other [Diane Warren] song on there that I didn’t even like, and so Diane Warren made like $60,000 off my greatest hits album because that song is on there.”
Eddie Money (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
“The record company wanted a couple of new songs to be included and one of them was a Diane Warren song that they force-fed me called ‘Stop Steppin’ on My Heart,’ which I call ‘Stop Steppin’ on My Balls.’ I was forced to do that song by both my management company and the record company. Hey, I’ve got nothing against Diane Warren, I was jus force-fed the song because she was having so many hits at that time.
“This is my greatest hits album, so I wanted to have my song, ‘Trinidad,’ on there. My fans love that song and I play it at pretty much every concert. Or I could have put ‘Can’t Keep a Good Man Down’ on there, which was one of my hits. But instead, I had to put this other song on there that I didn’t even like, and so Diane Warren made like $60,000 off my greatest hits album because that song is on there.
“If it were up to me, I would have put out my own greatest hits that would have included ‘Trinidad,’ ‘Can’t Keep a Good Man Down,’ ‘The Big Crash,’ ‘Call on Me,’ or ‘Save a Little Room in Your Heart for Me,’ which is one of the best songs I ever wrote.”
Stepping Up
For his then-current album, Right Here, Money had relocated to Los Angeles and he also began to put his foot down and began demanding much more control of his own artistic journey. “I just got tired of all this corporate rock thing and I had just gotten off the road and had another million-dollar year on touring. Not that I actually see a million dollars from that, but I was just tired of my management company and my record label telling me what I had to do on my records. But they came around this time and let me make this record the way I wanted it to; at least more so than on the previous couple of records.
“It was nice to be in the driver’s seat this time around. I mean I’ve worked with amazing producers in my career. I worked with Bruce Botnick, who worked with The Doors. I worked with Tom Dowd, who worked with everybody from the Allman Brothers to Otis Redding to Aretha Franklin. I worked with Ron Nevison and I worked with Richie Zito. I mean, I learned a lot from working with these guys and I took it and applied it to my own material. I did work with a few other producers on this record, like Marc Tanner, Keith Olsen and Monty Byrom, but I was hands-on.
When discussing Right Here, Money sounds totally revitalized as we run through the track list. “The first single was ‘Heaven in a Back Seat’ and the record company wanted me to do that one. Keith Olson produced it and it’s all machines. It’s really hard to play live with a band. I think it got to #58 on the charts and now that single is over and I’m glad because I don’t have to play it live anymore,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a sexy tune though and it was a cool video, but it didn’t take off.
“‘Fire and Water’ is about fighting with the old lady. ‘Prove It Every Night’ is about us. ‘I’ll Get By’ is a lonely blues song and ‘Fall in Love Again’ is a great tune. ‘She Takes My Breath Away’ is about my wife because she’s so beautiful. I mean, I get tired just looking at her.
“And I love ‘Another Nice Day in L.A.’ because I live in L.A. and L.A. is a lot like New York, you love it and hate it. I wrote that Monty and Stan Lynch and John Corey. John Corey brought me the track with no melody line, just the chords. And we were sitting in the car outside Cherokee Studios, and it was burning hot out and I said, ‘Well, here it is, another nice day in L.A.’ And I thought that’s a great title, so Monty and I put the lyrics together and we had the song. That would make a great video.”
Unfortunately, the chance of this infectious track becoming a summertime hit in 1992 were dashed when the infamous L.A. riots tore the city apart in the wake of the Rodney King incident at the end of April that year. Not exactly the opportune time to be singing about sunshine and L.A. dreams. But it still holds up some 28 years later.
Winds of Change
Having been through decades of the rock & roll wars, the changes and trends continue to shift like the wind. Once a darling of MTV and mainstream radio, Money understands the reality of having to figure out ways to reach his loyal audience in the changing music landscape.
“Making records is like a fuckin’ crap shoot. Based on all the records I’ve made, this one should go triple-platinum, but will it? I have no idea. Nobody does. You put it out and promote it and hope for the best.
“I’m proud of the fact that I think it’s a great album and if radio doesn’t give me a shot, then I’ll go out on the road and I’ll put seven or eight songs from this record in the set, and I’ll visit radio stations and try and get some of the AOR [Album-Oriented Rock] stations to play some of it, and if people like what they hear, they’ll hopefully go out and buy the record.
“The best way to sell the new record is to do the Traveling Medicine Show and play some of these new songs to let the fans know that there’s a new album out. I’m playing 4-5,000 seaters lately, so if 2,000 of those people buy the new record in each city, that adds up to a lot of sales, and that’s how I have to do it these days.
“I’m getting older and radio may not want me anymore, so I may not sell as many records anymore. But I’m going out on the road, I’ve got my fans out there, I’ve got a strong base, and I’ll sell records that way. I do what I can. Hell, that’s what I did when I was a kid. I’d go see Quicksilver Messenger Service at the Carousel Ballroom and I’d go out and buy the record. I’d see Santana and, boom, I’d buy the record. I’d see Jimi Hendrix and, bang, I’d buy the record.”
“With MTV, I understand that I’m older now and it’s all about these skin-and-bones kids with their hair extensions. I mean, the only reason I picked up a copy of Rolling Stone two weeks ago with the guy from Skid Row on it is I thought it was a chick. I thought it had a centerfold in it.”
Eddie Money (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
And while he has made videos for the album, he knows that MTV is most likely not going to be supporting him much this time around because of their changing demographic. “Just a few years ago MTV loved ‘Take Me Home Tonight’ with Ronnie Spector and they loved ‘Walk on Water.’ Now I’m just trying to get on VH1. At least Perry Como’s not on VH1 yet,” he said with a laugh. “Now if Kenny Rogers’ shows up on VH1 with ‘Gambler,’ then I might be a little afraid, but it’s okay, I’ll take what I can get.
“With MTV, I understand that I’m older now and it’s all about these skin-and-bones kids with their hair extensions. I mean, who the fuck is Firehouse? I mean, the only reason I picked up a copy of Rolling Stone two weeks ago with the guy from Skid Row on it is I thought it was a chick. I thought it had a centerfold in it.
“But, seriously, I have nothing against these young acts because at one point I was I was like them. I was Eddie Fuckin’ Money; out of my mind, drinking like a fish, high as a big dog. But times change and shit happens, man. I’m just rolling with the punches.”
The Graying of Rock & Roll
The question about age in rock & roll was a big topic of discussion in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s as veteran artists moved past the once unheard of rock age of 40, and even 50. I presented that topic to Eddie and just let him run with it.
“What would Jimi Hendrix be doing right now if he didn’t die a legend? Would he be selling millions of albums still? I mean George Harrison and Paul McCartney aren’t making albums as big as what they did with The Beatles. I mean, Guns N’ Roses is a good band, there’s a place for them, but I still like the Steve Miller Band, ya know. I’m lost in the late ‘60s and the early ‘70s when it comes to my tastes and what I enjoy listening to.
I’m not gonna go out and get a ton of tattoos and wear zebra skin pants to compete, ya know. That just ain’t me. I don’t begrudge any musician who can make money in this insane rat race that is the music business.”
Eddie Money (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
“It’s happening to a lot of us. John Cougar Mellencamp is having trouble getting airplay, he can’t get arrested with that new tune he’s got. Bryan Adams after that huge, huge hit is having trouble with his new puppy. Bob Seger has a great new album and he’s not getting the airplay he used to get. I love Bob Seger. I mean, what are you gonna do? The market has changed on radio. It’s either classic rock stations playing all our old songs or it’s the young new bands. It’s tough, man.
“Here’s the thing, Guns N’ Roses is a real rock & roll band. I’m not saying they’re the most talented band in the world and I’m not saying they’re the least talented band in the world. They have their moments, they’re controversial and all of that. It’s like Motley Crue, they’re making money hand over fist right now and I don’t begrudge them that.
“They found their little pocket and they do it well. But I’m not gonna go out and get a ton of tattoos and wear zebra skin pants to compete, ya know. That just ain’t me. I don’t begrudge any musician who can make money in this insane rat race that is the music business.
“But there’s the guys like Bob Seger and myself and Bryan Adams and John Cougar. The times are changing and maybe we’re all just the dinosaurs. I’ll tell you in five years. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if my rock & roll career is over, but I’m going for as long as people want to see me perform or make records.
“I mean, it’s not like a job. I don’t punch a time clock. I don’t have to check out the traffic report in the morning. I’ve been doing this since high school. If someone rings the bell and says the party’s over, I’m gonna be in trouble. I’ve got three kids and a wife, I don’t know what would happen. What kind of resume could I put together? The last job I had was in the police department and that was in 1968!
“I don’t know I think I have a lot of life left in me, and I think this album is really good and I really hope it does well.”
Working for a Living
Ultimately, Right Here received a modicum of airplay and included what ultimately became his final Top 40 hit, “I’ll Get By,” which charted to #21. The following year, he released his first live album, the criminally underrated Unplug It In, while Love and Money came and went in 1995. A second live album (and DVD), Shakin’ with the Money Man, arrived in ’97, and his final studio album of original material, Ready Eddie, was released in 1999.
Since that time, a slew of greatest hits compilations have been flooding the market, with the two-disc, 35-song The Essential Eddie Money being the best encapsulation of his lengthy and varied career.
“You couldn’t sell me as a hostage in Europe. If you want to really break in Europe you have to break through in England and I just haven’t made it there. They wined me and dined me there and I had a wonderful time, but I just never sold a lick of shit there.”
Eddie Money (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler
Ironically, for all his stardom in America, Money jokingly points out that he never was able to crack the international market. “You couldn’t sell me as a hostage in Europe,” he cracked. “I don’t know, I do pretty good in Germany and sell some records in Italy and Sweden, but I couldn’t get arrested in the U.K. I sell pretty well in Australia and Japan, but if you want to really break in Europe you have to break through in England and I just haven’t made it there. They wined me and dined me there and I had a wonderful time, but I just never sold a lick of shit there.”
Since the dawn of the new millennium, Money’s career has centered on the concert stage, something that he’s incredibly grateful for. “I have to pay the bills, ya know,” he said, “and touring around the country and playing my music to great fans certainly beats mowing lawns or digging ditches. I love playing live for people, but let’s face it I’m not crazy about the cauliflower and dip in the dressing rooms. I’m not in it for the cold cuts, ya know.
“I go out on the road because it keeps the money coming in and the money keeps going out, and people seem to still want to see me perform, so this is my job and how I make a buck. No different than anyone else who works for a living.
“I can pretty much play what I want in concert, as long as I include things like ‘Two Tickets to Paradise’ and ‘Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star’ and things like that. But I don’t do things like ‘The Big Crash’ or ‘Club Michelle’ anymore, but I can always bring them back if I want to. I’d love to do three-hour shows like Springsteen, but that’s not really what people want from me.”
“Touring around the country and playing my music to great fans certainly beats mowing lawns or digging ditches. I love playing live for people, but let’s face it I’m not crazy about the cauliflower and dip in the dressing rooms.”
Eddie Money (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
At the time of our last meeting in ’91, I asked Eddie about the possibility of him moving into the world of acting, as his personality would seem to be a tailor-made fit. “I’ve met a lot of big-time movie directors, like Francis Ford Coppola, who tell me that I should get into movies and that I’d be a natural actor,” he admitted. “But fuck that shit, what am I gonna do, be like Sting in Dune, and spend six months in a scorching hot tin can trailer in the desert to appear for six minutes in my underwear for one of the biggest flops in the century? Nah, I’m not interested in that at this point.”
And while it’s not acting, per se, Money did make a few appearances on the telly, like the memorable 2002 one on the hit sit-com King of Queens, starring his friend Kevin James. In the episode, James’ character lands a financial windfall and spends his money crazily in one day before his wife finds out, including hiring Eddie to give a private performance at his house.
Final Thoughts
Last year, Eddie and his family—second wife Laurie, whom he married in 1989, and his five kids—moved into the world of reality television with their series Real Money on AXS-TV. Sadly, an episode discussing his cancer diagnosis aired just one day before he succumbed to his illness yesterday. That’s a bit too much reality.
Enjoy your ticket to paradise, Eddie. Thanks for all the laughs and music. You will be missed. So let’s end this little tribute in a way that the Money Man would appreciate: Everybody Rock ‘n’ Roll the Place this weekend.