rles Shaar Murray points out that Hendrix was bestride musical, personal and sociological faultlines. A black American with a international white audience; a pop star with an intense desire to play blues and jazz; a quiet, shy, even dreamy man famous for his ferocious stage act: Hendrix was dogged by his psychedelic wild man image, and troubled that he couldn't win over a black audience. At the end of the decade Hendrix felt as if he had lost his creative thread. Drugs and exhaustion from relentless touring took their toll as well. At Woodstock, he had to be literally coaxed up on stage. Still, by the winter of 1970, it looked as if Jimi Hendrix had bottomed out. He was acquitted on drug charges in Toronto, a triumph attributed to his charm on the witness stand and his straightforward admission that he had used many drugs in the past. At the same time the creative block that had been a source of confusion and despair over the previous twelve months was beginning to break. He was working in earnest on a new album and looking forward to finishing his new record at Electric Lady -- the state of the art recording studio he built in Manhattan. Hendrix had an extraordinarily close relationship with his sound engineer Eddie Kramer, a white South African who shared his client's eclectic musical tastes. Electric Lady was to be their creative hive. But it was complicated. Electric Lady was co-owned with Hendrix' manager, Jeffrey Meyers, a shrewd, manipulative, business man, who had helped turn The Jimi Hendrix Experience into the then highest paid act in rock and roll. The studio had almost bankrupted both Meyers and Hendrix and they no longer trusted each other. They finally agreed on one point -- to complete the studio Hendrix would have to go on one more European tour. It would be the tour that led to the London hotel room and the nine sleeping pills. Twenty-six years later it seems like such an incredible waste. Hendrix would be 53. With the ...
