Phil Spector’s Tragic Descent Into Madness and Murder

by BJW Nashe

When legendary music producer Phil Spector was convicted of second-degree murder in 2009, not many of us were terribly shocked by the news. We’d heard the rumors of erratic behavior, often involving alcohol and guns. We’d seen the bizarre fright wigs worn in the courtroom.

At the time of his arrest in 2003, Spector’s questionable mental state and odd lifestyle had already been a topic of discussion for decades. Richard Williams’s highly regarded book about Spector, Out of His Head, was published way back in 1972, a full thirty years before the music icon was charged with murder. By the time Spector finally went down, with the new millenium well underway, many of us were surprised that it had taken so long for something tragic to happen.

The crime itself was dumb and ugly. On February 3rd, 2003, a woman named Lana Clarkson was found dead of a gunshot wound to the mouth in Spector’s Alhambra residence, an ostentatious mansion known as “Dupuy’s Pyrenees Castle.” At the Castle, police used a stun gun in order to apprehend Spector. He was then charged with murder.

Spector claimed Ms. Clarkson’s death was an “accidental suicide.” Or, as he put it, “She kissed the gun.” So much for public relations strategy.

Spector spent several years battling the murder charge. He went through defense attorneys nearly as fast as he changed wigs. His first trial in 2007 resulted in a hung jury. A second trial resulted in conviction. He now languishes at the state prison in Corcoran, California, serving a sentence of 19 years to life. In hindsight, one wonders why Spector didn’t opt for the insanity defense. I suppose he hoped to be fully exonerated. Maybe he is in fact innocent. Doubtful, but who really knows?

One thing that isn’t doubtful is Spector’s musical genius, particularly when he was working at his peak during the 1960s. His trademark “Wall of Sound” made pop music into something huge and majestic even on the crappiest AM radio. Smash hits such as “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes, and “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling” and “Unchained Melody,” both by the Righteous Brothers, are flawless masterpieces. His work on the Beatles’ “Let it Be” album, and on John Lennon’s “Instant Karma” single, is not too shabby, either. Has any producer ever made Lennon sound better in the studio?

Born in the Bronx in 1939, Spector moved to California with his mother and sister in 1953. His father had killed himself in 1949, and the family wanted to start over. Young Phil learned guitar and began performing as a teenager. His first success came with his group the Teddy Bears, whose single “To Know Him is to Love Him,” written by Spector and inspired by the epitaph on his father’s tombstone, became a #1 hit in 1958.

Spector began hanging around recording studios, and was soon devoting more time to producing than performing. In time, he became pop music’s first superstar producer.

Spector had a way of working magic in the recording studio. Instead of massive layering with overdubs in order to create depth and texture (as Jimmy Page, for instance, would do with Led Zeppelin), Spector achieved his big sound by expanding the pop band format to the size of a full orchestra. Rather than just one or two guitars, how about five? Or even seven? Plus half-a-dozen keyboards, three bassists, multiple percussionists, and a bunch of strings and horns. The trick is to get the sound in the studio just right, managing every detail pertaining to room acoustics, location of instruments, singers, and microphones. Then you have to force everyone to play together perfectly. At gunpoint, if necessary. Forget about stereophonic recording. Spector’s Wall of Sound was piled up in mono. He knew it would sound great on the radio. He didn’t care if individual instruments could be heard or not. All the better if the guitars and keyboards and horns all blended together into a single glorious mantra.

Spector had a distinct knack for song craft. His compositions, with their uncanny melodic development and cascading harmonies, combined with his unique sonic engineering, have inspired countless artists including Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, Bruce Springsteen, the Ramones, Amy Winehouse, and British noise-pop bands such as The Jesus and Mary Chain. In addition to building the Wall of Sound, Spector also knew how to deliver a powerful hook, with a devastating chorus. He understood the importance of a strong bridge within the overall framework of a song.

Like many geniuses, Spector was a tormented soul. He had a dark side. His personality has been described as abrasive, obsessive, and controlling — but also as sweet and loveable, depending on who’s talking, and in what context. Bullied as a poor, scrawny kid, he grew up with a massive bad attitude. Achieving success was one way of getting revenge. Total control was one way of striving for success. Guns were one way of maintaining control. Obviously, this approach would prove to be problematic.

By the end of the 1960s, Spector’s best work was behind him. He had become increasingly reclusive. He mounted a comeback of sorts in the Seventies, producing memorable work with several artists, including the Beatles, Leonard Cohen, Cher, and Ike and Tina Turner. But he was never able to capture the same magic that he seemed to muster at will during the peak of his creativity.

In March of 1974 Spector was nearly killed in an automobile accident. He suffered serious head injuries which necessitated several hours of surgery. He received over 300 stitches to his face and more than 400 stitches to the back of his head. This, combined with gradual hair loss, was presumably the reason he began wearing the outlandish wigs that made such a big impression during his murder trials.

Along with the wigs came the distasteful rumors and accusations that threatened to overshadow his musical legacy altogether.

• Spector’s domineering, abusive behavior may or may not have led to the dissolution of his marriage to Ronnie Spector (who sang lead vocals on “Be My Baby”).

• Spector may or may not have kept Ronnie locked up inside the Castle, and hidden her shoes in order to keep her barefoot and thus unlikely to escape.

• Spector may or may not have shown Ronnie a gold, glass-topped coffin in the Castle’s basement, telling her that if she ever tried to leave him, he would kill her and display her body inside it.

• Spector may or may not have forbidden Ronnie any contact with the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, for fear of infidelity. (In hindsight, there is a certain logic to this.)

• Spector may or may not have kept one of his sons locked inside a bedroom of the Castle, with a chamber pot to use in lieu of a bathroom.

• Spector may or may not have treated two of his children like caged pets, only to be released for his amusement.

• Spector may or may not have fired a gun in the studio at some point during the drunken recording sessions of John Lennon’s 1972 album “Rock and Roll.”

• Spector may or may not have held a gun to Leonard Cohen’s neck during the recording of Cohen’s “Death of a Ladies Man” album in 1977. Spector may or may not have said to Cohen, “Leonard, I love you.” To which Cohen, feeling the gun barrel against his skin, may or may not have replied, “I hope you do.”

• Spector may or may not have also threatened Cohen with a crossbow. Cohen told Rolling Stone magazine in 1978, “Phil couldn’t resist annihilating me. I don’t think he can tolerate any other shadows in his darkness.”

• In a 1974 incident at the Record Plant in L.A., Spector may or may not have pulled two guns on Stevie Wonder. He wasn’t even working with Stevie; he just wanted Wonder’s sound engineer. Note: when you are brandishing guns at blind geniuses, this may be a sign you are out of control.

• Spector may or may not have forced bassist Dee Dee Ramone to play, at gunpoint, to his precise specifications. Spector may or may not have demanded that the Ramones play the opening of their song “Rock and Roll High School” over and over again for eight hours straight.

• Late one night in 2003, Spector may or may not have shoved a gun inside the mouth of Lana Clarkson and pulled the trigger. At his second trial in 2009, a jury decided that he had done precisely that. They found him guilty of second-degree murder.

• Spector may or may not have used guns to threaten four other women he had dated, as stated in documents filed by the prosecution during his trial.

• Spector may or may not have been suffering withdrawal symptoms from prescription medication on the night of Ms. Clarkson’s death. He may or may not have been intoxicated from alcohol. He may or may not have been relatively insane at the time, or at least afflicted with bi-polar disorder, which is basically the same thing.

We know that on the night leading up the crime, Spector went to the House of Blues club in L.A. He arrived with one woman, and left with another. The unlucky woman he left with happened to be Ms. Clarkson, a former actress then working as a hostess at the club. Talk about being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Later on, back at Spector’s Castle, events took a turn for the worse. Spector’s Brazilian chauffeur, Adriano de Souza, called 911 in the early morning hours, saying, “I think my boss killed somebody.” De Souza later testified that he saw Spector emerge from the mansion carrying a gun. He stated that he heard Spector say, “I think I killed someone.” Forty minutes later, Spector was stun-gunned by cops and placed under arrest.

The Phil Spector story is a black hole of tragedy and despair, offering none of the vicarious thrills displayed in other “Hollywood Babylon” cases such as Fatty Arbuckle, Errol Flynn, Sharon Tate,  O.J. Simpson, and Michael Jackson. You won’t have much fun seeking lurid kicks or prurient details in any part of the Spector story.

And beware of attempting to rehabilitate the image of the man, or trying to wrestle some degree of humanitarian sympathy, or even worthwhile melodrama, out of the story. David Mamet tried to do so in his recent HBO movie, “Phil Spector.” Even with Al Pacino playing the role of Spector, and Helen Mirren playing one of his defense attorneys, the film struggled to generate strong interest. Reviewers pointed to a distinct lack of dramatic tension or conflict. It’s all simply too distasteful. As one of the characters — who is part of the defense team — states during the movie, “There’s nothing redeeming in our guy.”

Casting Spector in any kind of positive light at this point is something akin to the heavy revisionist spin needed for the recent opening of the George W. Bush Presidential Library.

In this context, the music video just released by Spector’s current wife, Rachelle, comes off as unintentionally creepy. The song, called “P.S. I Love You,” is reportedly inspired by love letters which Rachelle, who married Spector in 2006, has written back and forth with her husband since he began serving his prison sentence. According to Eric Danton, writing for Rolling Stone on April 4, 2013:

“Rachelle Spector is convinced her husband was wrongly convicted, and ‘P.S. I Love You’ – part of an upcoming five-song EP – is in part a means of helping to keep his case in the public eye. It’s also a demonstration of her devotion.

“‘To know Phil is to love Phil,’ Rachelle Spector tells Rolling Stone. ‘If people knew him like I do, they would fall in love with him. Even the first five minutes of talking to him, he engages you. You get this sense of kindness. He’s so gentle, warm, loving.’”

Falling in love can be a treacherous thing, especially with Phil Spector. If you don’t end up abused, traumatized, or dead, people will simply question your sanity. Or your motivations, as in the case of Rachelle. More than forty years younger than Spector, having married him in the midst of his legal ordeal, she has now assumed control of all his business affairs. There’s an odor of mendacity and greed surrounding her public display of affection for the imprisoned icon.

As far as Spector being wrongfully convicted — this seems to be a stretch. Even if he is innocent, however, the problem remains that he appears to be a far cry from anything remotely “gentle, warm, and loving.”

In terms of the big picture, and trying to find any deep cultural significance to the Spector crime drama, well…good luck trying to quote your way out of that mess. It strikes me as a sad story of mental illness coupled with fame and hubris, resulting in a pointless death and two costly trials. With a trail of unhappy family members, lovers, and acquaintances left behind.

Which is really too bad — a truly wretched thing to ponder at length — because the Wall of Sound remains a spectacular invention, which has served as a near-perfect soundtrack to a vital time in our history. Thankfully, nothing will ever change or diminish the power of Phil Spector’s music. But neither will it bring Lana Clarkson back to life.