August 26Flew up to San Jose. I am met by Sandy Einstein, a friend of mine who worked for Journey in their heyday, and his wife Hiromi (who is a big fan of Thunder). Sandy went on to manage Mr Big and Europe. I've known him since 1979 and haven't seen him in ten years. His wife thinks I am a bad geijing, and that I only know BAD Japanese words. Well, that's true, but when you're touring Japan what else do you need to know? The show is at Shoreline, a good venue to shoot at but always freezing. Joe, who is cycling backstage, tells Jeff Scott Soto I am homosexual - I agree. Jeff looks worried. Phil Collen, Ross Valory and Jonathan Cain play with Stoll Vaughan. Journey go down well - they would, it's their home town show. I get some funny pictures of them just before they go on. Def Leppard add 20th Century Boy to the set. The promoter has done a nice poster for the shows which I must blag... Sandy introduces me to Cyndy Poon and Lora Beard who have run the Journey fan club since the dawn of man. I think they go away hating me as I'm a bit anti Steve Perry and I told them Pat Travers murdered Journey when he opened for them at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1979. They looked crestfallen... I did admit the first Steve Perry solo album is great, especially Captured By The Moment and Strung Out, which I got mixed up with The Party's Over. And Cyndy and Lora were nice... Say goodbye to the band. I'm heading south they're going north. I must admit I've had a REALLY good time with Def Leppard. Which makes a nice change from some of the other bands I deal with. August 25I was going to Concord for more Def Leppard, but as the place is a pain in the arse to get to (45 miles from the nearest airport) I'm going to Shoreline near San Jose tomorrow. Got an angry email from Crazy George Bodnar going CRAZY
over my comments about him. Crazy didn't know what I meant
about him being like Jon Bon Jovi. We made up over emails
- in the old days he would have phoned me. He's Crazy did tell me if I want a good laugh I should look at Denis O'Regan's site. Denis claims on his news page that he's had 33 million hits in two years. He must be on the glue, and modesty was never Denis' strong point. August 23Fly down to San Diego, the altitude is only 9,000 feet. Beautiful view, unfortunately I couldn't have a proper camera because it had to go in the hold. Took a few pictures with my sureshot. Get to the venue with some help (thank you Elizabeth) at 5pm. There is a putting green backstage and Sav is playing golf. I do a quick session of group shots and Joe on his own. See Rick Gould, a photographer I've known a long time. He is always nice - I should take his lead. Shoot Stoll Vaughn again, live and backstage, with Rory, and Jonathan Cain. Watch a bit of Journey, then shoot Leppard again just as they go on. Leave to head back to LA. Surprisingly it takes only two hours and I hate motorway driving at night - it seems endless. I'd rather fly, even when I'm scared... August 22Fly on a small plane to Phoenix. The last time I did this I was being thrown all over the plane in the friendly skies. Sure enough there are huge thunder storms. I fall asleep and wake up on what feels like a rollercoaster. I shoot a couple of frames with my sureshot. With hindsight I wish I'd shot more - the sky looked spectacular. Arrive and it's 105 degrees at 5pm. The show is at the Cricket Pavilion which I've shot at a lot before. It's quite good but with a high stage. Phil's son Rory is playing bass with Stoll Vaughn - shoot them live. Joe wants a picture with John Kongos who lives in Phoenix, and John Fiddler who was in Medicine Head. I'd just ordered the British Lions cd from Japan (a band John was in this morning, strange). John Fiddler looked different, he was burnt bright pink with long receding hair and was the size of Friar Tuck - I was a bit shocked. Then again I haven't seen him since about 1979... Joe had food poisoning and was not feeling his best, and
the women were not as stunning as Las Vegas. Every one seemed
to be burnt pink, and the size of John. Shoot the last couple
of songs on Rik Allen's drum riser - got some Stoll is quite good in a Dylan kind of way. He's from Kentucky and has a pronounced southern drawl. I am quite nice to him for five minutes. 'Don't be nice, it wouldn't be y'all,' he drawls. 'Ah prefer y'all being mean.' No problem, I can help him with his request - all friendly... August 21A day off, sort of, in LA. My new Mac power book has not been getting or sending emails, which has been driving me crazy. I won't go on as I don't want to sound like Kevin Shirley - all technical. Perhaps I should have my Mac re-mastered and then I could write a nice long diary entry about it - bet you can't wait... Looked at Mick Wall's blog. He's been contacted by Crazy
George Bodnar, an old friend, and I mean that loosely...
George is a regular Jon Bon Jovi. He's now a ROYAL photographer,
which translates to taking Camilla's passport Went to see The Descent again on the big screen (it's only just come out here). Worth going just to ogle Natalie Mendoza... Off to Phoenix tomorrow for more Def Leppard. August 20I get back into LA at 1am and run into Chris Robinson of the Black Crowes. I haven't seen him in about seven years - I think. He is "enjoying" himself but is very lucid. 'Have you listened to In Search Of Space? (it's by Hawkwind). I'm into it.' He then runs off a list of new bands I should check out. Wolfmother are playing on the stereo in the bar. He likes it - I think it's okay. 'You've got to remember they're young kids.' He's right - us old men judging. We sit in the bar, me on water, Chris on anything... I am so tired when I go to bed I can't sleep. Still, it was good to see him. August 19As I'm still up at 5.30 (didn't you know, you don't sleep here?) I shoot the dawn sun from the 38th floor of the Four Seasons Hotel. Go and sit by the pool to watch the locals for the day. I fly late afternoon to Orange County John Wayne Airport. I don't know why but I expected a shack instead of a ultra-modern airport. Shoot the hills in the marine haze while landing. I've done this a lot, it always looks magical, as if you're not in America. Today is a festival for a radio station with Cheap Trick, Billy Idol, Journey and Def Leppard. Which means it's chaos. I arrive as Cheap trick finish, say hello to Robin Zander. It seems that whatever pass you have doesn't work and the fact you have a camera gives the venue security more reason to hassle you - why couldn't they have done another night in Vegas? The venue, Verizon Wireless Ampitheatre, is one I hate to shoot in. It has no vibe, no pit and is always cold. I have been here a lot in the last twenty-five years and I HATE the place. Shoot a bit of Billy Idol who looks fantastic - Steve Stevens plays well - it's just that he looks like a little old Jewish lady with too much makeup. Billy even plays Ready Steady Go, which is lost on the LA crowd. I'm standing by Journey as they are going on. Their tour manager shouts at me, 'What are you doing? You can't be here, we don't allow ANYONE to shoot the band onstage. EVER!' 'Well, I shot them last night, and in Texas.' He's now looking super pissed off, 'NOT WITH MY OKAY!' I point to the band, 'Ask them.' He looks at Neal Schon, 'YOU WANT TO LET HIM SHOOT YOU?' Sure,' says Neal... 'Okay, you can,' and introduces himself - c'est la vie... By the time Leppard play I'm freezing. I shoot most of the show from the mixing desk. It is so cold the flight case I'm crouched on has moisture on it. As the band finish I get photos of Joe and Phil, posing of course, which are good. They seemed to enjoy it. August 18Off to Las Vegas to join Def Leppard and Journey. Flying out of Los Angeles isn't as painful with security as I expected. Arrive 6pm, it is 104 degrees. The venue is the Mandalay Bay Events Center, which my cab driver can't find, even though it's a huge hotel with a huge sign. He takes forty-five minutes to drop us a distance of about two miles. This is the same place they had the VH1 Awards and the ac in the building is set to Siberia. It's freeeeeeezing... This is the first time I've shot this tour with a proper stage and photo pit. The other good point is the women in the crowd are stunning, Well, a lot of them are. It beats the monsters that showed up in Texas. Aerosmith attract women, but they couldn't beat Def Leppard for this. Even the band were impressed (I made a point of bringing this up) - I'll put up some pictures. I could happily shoot here all the time - and find someone to marry! August 17Three hours later I'm still hangin' in the bar with Warren... We sit and chat and listen as Warren tells funny and amazing stories about Hollywood and his friends, including Roman Polanski, all off the record (as he says). A blond teenager joins us and introduces himself as Chris Botti (who is apparently a famous trumpet player). We all get talking music, I tell Warren about Steve Harris writing Heaven Can Wait about his film. Warren has never heard of Iron Maiden. Chris starts going on boringly about the Beatles. I tell him they were shite and a girl band. He then asks what I like. 'Led Zeppelin?' Chris dismisses them as what's wrong with music. What a snob. Warren brings up the Stones, a rubbish cabaret group now. 'Did you ever like the Who?' I ask. Warren tells us he saw them at the Met in 1970. I am impressed. I am thinking Chris isn't old enough to know the Beatles. I ask him how old he is - forty-three. Fuck me, whatever elixir he takes I'll have some - he looks about twelve. Warren says goodnight at 1.30, I say goodbye and tell him he's a famous serial shagger. He thinks this is hilarious. I find out he is seventy. I go to bed with a real buzz - a genuine Hollywood legend. Holly asks would I like to shoot him, she thinks Warren liked me. Ummm, yes. It'll make a change from Def Leppard. Get up at 7am. I am going to hike Runyon Canyon. As I have coffee sitting at the next table is John Turturo. I must be going Hollywood... August 16The Caveman and I spend the early hours talking to a barmaid called Roe from Dallas. She's not a part-time actress or a model like every girl you meet here. 'Whats your ambition?' asks Kevin. 'To have lots of children,' she replies. 'Ross has a big penis,' The Caveman slurs. 'I don't, mine is very small,' I tell her. Time to escape to bed... Awake at 6am and it's a sunny day. I'll leave The Caveman to snore for a couple of more hours... Had breakfast with a hungover Caveman. Bic Runga joined us and I got a copy of her new cd, re-issued with my photos - so go and buy it. She's off to London, I'm off shopping with The Caveman - in his Rolls Royce... I called Gary Tunnicliffe, a film person I know who lives in LA. Gary is a man of many parts. He acts, directs, sculpts - making severed heads and gore for loads of horror films. Gary did the gore for Pulse, the hit horror movie at the moment. He also starred in Dracula the Legacy, a "Work Of Art" I bought in Kuta in Bali for a $1.00 on dvd. His proudest achievement in life was getting Michael Schenker's Flying V guitar tattooed on his arm - he loves the Scorpions and the Mighty Priest. He picks me up in his impressive white Jaguar, which makes a change from a hire car. We have a very civilised dinner at Argo, talking music, of course. He's from Birmingham (and I don't mean Alabama). His other loves are Iron Maiden and Rainbow. Gary thinks Blackmore's Shite are great - oh well... But he did buy me dinner - and it was nice driving around in his car. We dine on white asparagus and cannaloni with truffles - it beats backstage catering. I could eat here every night, no problem. Walking through my hotel lobby I see Holly Miller, writer with Premier, the big American movie magazine. She calls me over to join her. Sitting next to her is someone I recognise, but can't quite place. She introduces me to Warren Beatty, who she's writing a piece on. He oozes charisma. Warren definitely comes from the old school of charm. I should get some lessons from him... I've put up a lot more of The Scorpions. See more... 
August 15Out of paranoia from watching Sky News I got up at 5.30am and headed for Heathrow. Going in the terminal I'm stopped by security. 'WHAT TIME IS YOUR FLIGHT?' they shout at me. 'Ten,' I reply. 'THIS MORNING?' they bark. 'No, this evening,' I say in all seriousness. It isn't as bad as I expected getting through security and I am in fasttrack. You can bring cameras, pens, laptops, books and even your glasses case, as long as they fit in one bag the size of a small briefcase. So I settle on my sureshot. Flying at 10.30 this morning (I'm writing this at 7am). As we leave at 10.30am the plane pulls over after stopping on the runway and on come four heavily armed police. A student had left his backpack and passport in the departure lounge. We are held up for three hours. Finally take off at 1.30pm - the flight is long and tedious. Well, at least Los Angeles is hot and sunny. I ask the cab driver if he knows where he is going. They all say no to see how clueless you are. Fucking annoying after fifteen hours flying. Kevin "The Caveman" Shirley calls. 'What are you doing, let's have dinner?' I suggest going to see Bic Runga at a place called Largo. Kevin is keen, 'We can have cocktails.' The Caveman arrives at 8pm in his brand new Rolls Royce convertible (probably a present from Rod Smallwood) blasting out the new Iron Maiden cd. 'I knew you'd want to hear it,' he beams, 'I have something special for you.' He starts to play me the new mix of The Hunt For Red October with quadraphonic sounds of the sea recorded outside his new Malibu mansion. It is now nearly two hours long. 'The band wanted the effect of diving and surfacing in deep sea, so that's why they've done a longer version. It'll be out at Christmas in time for the winter market. I'm having it mastered at the moment. The cover's going to be a picture of Eddie as Santa riding the submarine over the Barings Sea, just like Moby Dick.' Can't wait... We head off to see Bic, who gives me a present of a photo book by William Eggleston, from her and her partner, Darrell. She does an acoustic set with guitar and piano. She is also quite funny and self-depreciating. The Caveman is hungry - he wants steak. I make him go for sushi, which he justifies eating by washing it down with gallons of saki. By 11pm The Caveman is bent on destroying Hollywood. I convince him to enjoy himself in my hotel bar. 'I'm checking in,' he announces.
August 13I have been toying around with the idea of doing a
diary like Ross Halfin has on his website but figured people
don't really want to hear what I had for breakfast or what
airline has the best peanuts in first class so I'm just
gonna keep it real. All Friendly. Talking of keeping it real read my other chum, Kevin Shirley's diary. Seems to be lots of shit going on in his MALIBU hood. For instance Kevin "The Caveman" Shirley loves the new Iron Maiden cd (what a surprise!) and he LOVES Some Kind Of Monster, the Metallica dvd ('It sucks!', as Kirk Hammett told me). Another surprise - let's guess why. And he's homeless. Poor old Kevin - he could join the army and help the war effort... I'm flying to Los Angeles on Tuesday and I'm already having nightmares. No, not about The Caveman playing me the new Iron Maiden cd, but the fun checking in at Heathrow... Got a belated Birthday email from real Rock Royalty - David Coverdale (not that riff-raff The Caveman mixes with). David had flown out on the 10th to LA. He was the only one on the plane... Okay, First Class. He told me it took two hours to go through his bags, and they took all his hand luggage off him - he said he found it strangely liberating... I suppose that's one way of looking at it. Funnily enough I'd gone for a run today, put the ipod on shuffle and the first song it played was Might Just Take Your Life - David must have written it about travelling... It's Sunday and it's been raining - and the sun has come out - a bit... August 11
Next year's birthday I'm ignoring... August 10Go and read Mick Wall's diary for August 9th. He's replied to some fan mail. The one about Syd and Arthur. And Meat Loaf not playing a song. It is a big world out there and some of you people REALLY do need to discover it. A full moon last night - took some photos at midnight using my friend Wilf as a tripod (you need a long lens). As I stand in the street focusing on the moon a figure walks up - my son Oliver, looking at us like we are lunatics. 'You're going to get arrested,' he smiles. The moon looked glorious in the night clouds. Went to bed to read my book on clouds. 
 August 9Some pictures which I like - flying home last week. The land with the golden sea is Los Angeles at 6pm. The clouds are the end of the day flying home. Speaking of clouds, bought a couple of books in London today; The Cloudspotter's Guide by Gavin Pretor-Pinney (probably bollocks, but the cover's nice) and A Man Without A Country by Kurt Vonnegut. And I got the new issue of Asian Cult Cinema... Decided to catch up and read the papers, including Friday's Guardian with John Harris assessing Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica - I think he likes it in the end. All critics do, you can't not - to be trendy. I have a mint original copy on vinyl (I collect records - sad aren't I?) and I don't care what anyone thinks, it sounds fucking awful - really fucking awful. I saw one of his original paintings in Flea's dining room and that was awful as well. The Captain should go back to making awful albums. I'm sure when he meets his maker Uncut, Mojo, The Word etc will have him on the cover hailing his glory, just like Syd Barrett. I'll stick to... I honestly don't know what I'd stick to, Tim Buckley (same era) maybe, but not this twaddle. Spending the day painting my garden Buddhas with yoghurt.
August 8
Still sorting out photos from my last trip - well, Kazuyo
is. Scarlet Page rang me on a catch up, we haven't spoken
for a while. She tried to get me to sing some of Journey's
hits down the phone, 'Come on, let's hear them.' This is
coming from someone who WORSHIPPED Billy Corgan and she's
a photographer and she's supposed to use her eyes. Then
again we all worship somebody we can't have. Spoke to Danielstein Hay this afternoon. He'd just been out for a curry with his Rolling Stones groupie Raj Prem. Dan confessed to selling loads of my prints, then had the gall to try and knock me down saying 'You're not famous like the other photographers I represent.' He forgets I am part of his tribe - fucking cheek... Meeting up with my friend Klaus Messner tonight, who's back in Europe trying to re-install The Fatherland... August 5Nice day. I didn't wake up until 10.30, which is strange for me - I'm usually up at 7am. Felt lethargic all day. Watched Gong Li in Raise The Red Lantern (I'd like four wives too). Didi Zill (famous German photographer) sent me an email
after running into Carole Stevens, who messed him around.
Didi only wanted to say hello to Ritchie Blackmore, and
Didi's known him a long time. The old witch stopped it.
Perhaps Ritchie's bewitched or hexed by Carole and her broom
(she must fly on it across Europe - beats a tour bus). She
even brought me up - silly old cow... August 4The Scorpions came offstage at 1am. My driver was waiting
to zoom me back to Hamburg. Got back at 2am. The band had
organised a party in the posh Park Hyatt Hotel. It was very
select and you were made extremely welcome. Rudolf decided
he wanted to do a photo session with everyone at 4am. 'Set
up your lights, let's do it properly,' he says. He even
got Michael out of bed. He appears in a black Hawaiian shirt.
Rudolf looks him up and down. 'Michael, are you going on
holiday?' Michael looks at me, 'You are still alive,' he
beams. He then spends the early morning talking to me in
German of which I understand not a word. I ask Michael if
he enjoyed it. 'I don't think I was very good, I could have
been better.' My photo shoot finishes at 5am. I got some
very funny photos. I ended the dawn with Rudolf giving me
explicit instructions on which photos to pick. He did make
sense, in fact he was very focussed for 5am... Here are some pictures of The Scorpions from the Wacken Festival yesterday 
 Some more pictures from my recent trip to the far east. See even more... 
August 3Off to Hamburg to shoot The Scorpions. I was stopped at Heathrow Airport by two youths wearing t-shirts with HERE TO MAKE HEATHROW BETTER on them. They were checking everyone in Terminal 2 going through security, telling them - me included - that my soft camera bag was too big (it fits under the seat, even in economy), and I'd have to check it in or I'm not being allowed on the plane. So after a huge row which now included a silly cow who's job was just to check your boarding cards (she was shouting 'YOU'RE NOT BEING ALLOWED ON THE PLANE. I'M CALLING SECURITY') I told them to offload my bags, which were already on the plane - which meant the plane would be held up. 'YOU WON'T GET THROUGH SECURITY,' she screamed. Yes I will and I did - stupid cunt. Arrived at Hamburg and was picked up by a car with a police escort and driven to Wacken - about an hour away, driving at a hundred miles an hour, even around country roads and blind bends. I should be grateful The Scorpions know how to look after you. Wacken seems to be nowhere. Full of sixty thousand people in black death metal t-shirts, emptying every off-licence of all it's alcohol. The back stage is very civilised, the catering has lots of meat and sushi, and the most impressive thing was the toilets - they were spotless. The Scorpions were headlining a massive stage with a huge lightshow. I saw Rudolf who told me he has arranged (with his tour manager) a platform to shoot from. This turns out to be is a twenty-foot ladder resting against the front of the stage. He means well. Watch Michael Schenker play on the video screen, he plays a lot of UFO and finishes with Armed And Ready. Set up to do a lineup shot with everyone. The band are playing tonight with all the key members from the various lineups. It gets late and I end up with Michael Schenker and various Scorpions. Michael is surprised to see me and keeps repeating 'How are you alive?' At 10pm climb my ladder and on they come to, er, Coming Home. Got to say they are magnificent. You get everything you want from The Zoo to Speedy's Coming (with Uli Roth) and He's A Woman She's A Man (with Uli and Michael Schenker). Talking of which I realised where Metallica stole all the riffing from... Hermann Rarebell looking like Santa Claus played on Blackout. The only low point was James Kottak's drum solo, a pointless exercise in grandstanding. He was so overdoing it I couldn't tell if he was any good - it reminded me of Doug Aldrich's guitar solo. Matthias spent most of the show laughing at me balancing on my ladder. I felt like a builder or a window cleaner - the show was three hours long... 
Here's the new Mojo with a Pete Townshend photo I took at Hyde Park. The issue has boring old Bob Dylan and a boring feature on, gasp, the '75 Rolling Thunder tour. Still, it's worth getting for my photo... Also Classic Rock with a Jimmy Page cover. And Drummer with the Foo Fighters. August 2Flew home overnight, shot some nice (I hope) abstract photos at dusk flying across the southwest. Had a row with the airline staff checking in. The United Airlines agent looked me up and down and told me I'm in the wrong queue, pointing at the economy line. I pointed out I was Global Services, 1k Million Mile flyer etc, etc. 'Show me you ticket,' she demanded. I refused, I was travelling in the front of the plane. The point I'm making is the airlines (especially American ones) think they can treat you like shit, and use terrorism as the excuse for it. You don't get any of this flying on Singapore or Thai Airways. As I was waiting for my bags in London my phone rang
- it was Rudolf Schenker ringing from Mongolia (I
think that's what he said, maybe it was Hanover) asking
what I was doing and do I want to come and shoot the
Scorpions tomorrow? 'Jawohl, mein Herr,' I replied.
Can't wait to hear The Zoo and Coast To Coast. Rushed
home to play my Scorpions Gold cd. Danielle Freidman from HK Management called to tell me my session with Steven Tyler is not happening in LA (it was my idea). She'll let me know when - I told her I don't mind, Rudolf rang and I'm doing The Scorpions. She sounded impressed. 'You spoke to Ravi Shankar, wow, how cool!'. I must send her a Scorpions cd... Here are some more pictures from my trip
August 1Back in Los Angeles - sanctuary... Compared to Texas
LA is like finding a great lost civilization. Dallas
was SO hot and I don't mind heat. It felt like you
were melting! We drove On Through The Night, haha, in the band's
tour buses. One party bus, one normal. I left Laurence,
who had food poisoning and was sick on the party bus,
while I relaxed with Phil Collen on the other.
As I was going to bed, walking through the Marriott lobby, I am accosted by a female native of South Dakota who wants to come to mine or Laurence's room, she's not too fussy, as long as one of us will take her to meet the band... She wants to party and offers to show us her piercings which she claims are many and varied. - we decline and leave her staggering around the lobby looking for the band. I then run into Bobby Blotzer from Ratt. Bobby has been partying for several hours and is overjoyed to see us. I'm quite pleased to see him, apart from the fact that I'm sober and he wants to catch up - I haven't seen him for 15 years and he wants to do a lot of catching up...! I eventually get to bed and get 2 hours sleep, then head off to the airport where many joys await us. First and foremost is the joy of being selected for
"special treatment" by airport security.
We start off by being told to stand together in a
2-foot square roped off area in front of all the other
passengers, and were told not to move anywhere. I'd
like to have seen them try this with the local population,
they would have had to have modified the holding pen
quite extensively to accomodate them (more on this
later). We were then thoroughly body-searched in case
we were hiding multiple weaqpons of mass destruction.
Bear in mind both of us are wearing shorts, t-shirts
and
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