‘Golden’ Girl

Last week, New York rocker Lotti Golden played her first show in over 50 years at the KGB Bar in Manhattan.

She was in performance to celebrate the recent reissue of her 1969 Atlantic Records debut Motor-Cycle on High Moon Records, playing to a crowd of music icons, industry insiders and longtime fans who’ve been hip to this lost treasure of an album since it was released 56 years ago.

Produced, directed and arranged by legendary songwriter and Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons producer Bob Crewe, Lotti recorded Motor-Cycle when she was just 19, pulling from rock, jazz, blues. soul and Broadway to create a sonic memoir of her life in the East Village during the late ‘60s.

“It’s an extraordinary evocation of a life-style… and one girl’s plunge into and out of it,” wrote renowned rock critic Nat Hentoff for Cosmopolitan Magazine in 1970.

“It’s as if The Velvet Underground recorded for Motown,” raved the sadly defunct music site Tiny Mix Tapes in a throwback review from 2008.

“Motor-Cycle transported me back to the ’60s in a way not many records do,” reflects New York punk great Richard Hell. “There’s no irony or second-guessing: Golden’s all in, a psychedelic daughter of the Beat generation, among her equally hippie cohort, in swirls of free-loving, drug-chasing, multiracial, pan-sexual abandon… The album is a mother lode for its multi-level fascination.”

Rock & Roll Globe had the distinct honor to interview Ms. Golden in the weeks leading up to her KGB show, where we discuss the album, working with Bob Crewe and her incredible career as a songwriter to the stars among other topics.

This High Moon reissue is my first time hearing the marvel of Motor-Cycle, so please forgive the naivete of the questions.

 

You were 16 when you joined Bob Crewe’s songwriting team in 1966. What was that experience like as a teen?

As a teen, it was a dream come true, like winning a slot machine jackpot. I felt very lucky, very fortunate. Not that this could happen without the requisite songwriting skills, but there are very good songwriters who aren’t afforded this opportunity.

The year was 1967. I was a senior in high school. After school I’d take the subway into Manhattan and co-write with other staff writers signed to Saturday Music. We banged it out on piano and/or guitar in small soundproof offices, Brill building style.

The other writers were in their twenties or older. I was was already pretty skilled as a songwriter, but I’m sure I picked up some insider tips from my more seasoned co-writers. What I really learned so much about was record production because we produced our own demos. It was an invaluable apprenticeship.

I had so much fun. We were given lots of creative freedom to create and collaborate. The icing on the cake was the salary of $100 per week, pretty amazing.

 

Do you remember the first song you wrote?

If you mean the first “professional” song I ever wrote, purchased by a publisher, I’ll tell you what I’ve never told anyone before. First, I’ll give you the backstory. I was 14 when I was introduced to a boy a few years my senior who also played guitar and wrote songs. What are the chances of that happening when you’re just 14?

We were both disciplined and serious about our craft, getting together for co-writing sessions every week. Dean, my collaborator was already a seasoned writer. In fact, it’s doubtful I would have been signed as a writer to Saturday Music without his tutelage. In addition to writing together, he showed me how to make the rounds, which was knocking on doors of publishers in the Brill Building (and elsewhere) with guitar and song in tow. You played and sang live in the publisher’s office. If they liked this song, they signed it on the spot, paid you, and set you up to record a demo. I went on lots of these excursions with Dean, learning the tricks of the trade.

About that first song: I had seen signs splashed around the city saying “Post No Bills” and suggested it for a song title. The title isn’t totally cringe-worthy in itself, but looking back, the lyrics were an abject embarrassment, I’ve never mentioned that song to anyone. And yes, we co-wrote the song and sold it a publisher, my first professional song.

Dean took me to the 1965 World’s Fair in Flushing Meadows, NY. I guess it was a date. He liked me, which I’d soon discover was a common theme in the music business. So, when it became too much, I had to end the relationship. But I’ll never forget his kindness and how much he taught me about the songwriting scene.

 

 

What was Bob Crewe like to work with?

Bob Crewe was a force of nature. He radiated so much energy, I’m surprised he didn’t spontaneously ignite like the sun. Like the star that he was, everyone and everything revolved around him, and you were happy to be in Bob’s orbit.

He was a joy to work with because of his creativity and passion. There was never a shortage of ideas or approaches when it came to record production; Bob was a pro, both songwriter and producer with lots hit songs under his belt.

I’ll never forget the first time I played Motor-Cycle as a work in progress for Bob in his office. After he heard the song “Gonna Fay’s,” which is about a party gone wrong populated by dubious characters, Bob’s jaw literally dropped as he looked at me and said, “Good G-d, who are your friends?” What set Bob apart is that he not only had talent, he had discipline. When I suggested we write a song with the title, ” Who Are Your Friends,” he agreed and followed through, setting up the co-writing sessions. Not everyone in the business is like that. That song is the only co-write on the album.

In the studio Bob was extremely supportive; he brought out the best in the artist. He knew how to get a great vocal. He was patient and kind. Bob had all of the qualities of a world class producer.

 

What prompted the creation of Motor-Cycle initially, and what prompted you to expand the idea of a song beyond the three-minute mark?

When I was in high school on Saturdays, I’d take the subway into Manhattan for drama and dance classes at the Henry Street Settlement on the Lower East Side. This was my practice between 1965 and 1967, the same years Joan Didion documents in Slouching Towards Bethlehem describing West Coast counterculture.

The counterculture was happening on the East Coast as well. Because of my proximity to its epicenter, the Lower East Side and East Village, I had a front row seat. It was a unique time in American History.

Through my studies at Henry Street, I started meeting locals in the neighborhood and pretty soon I met Michael, a few years my senior, who gave me the grand counterculture tour of the street life, clubs, happenings, and parties, sometimes on foot and other times on the back of his motorcycle. It was such a crazy, outrageous scene. The characters were better than fiction: wannabe philosopher kings, musicians, and artists, ersatz gurus, ne’er do wells and druggies. I just knew I had to document it.

Looking back, I’d have to credit The Doors for informing the song structure on Motor-Cycle. Their eponymous debut LP was released in 1967, as I was working on the songs for Motor-Cycle. “Soul Kitchen,” “Light My Fire” and “The End,” ranged between four and seven minutes, giving me permission to extend the length of my songs. Other inspirations were Bob Dylan’s “Desolation Row,” at 11:21, 1965 and Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant”(18:34)1967.

 

AUDIO: Arlo Guthrie “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” 

What is the story behind the name of the album? Did you ride at all?

There’s not much to the story behind the title, Motor-Cycle. It’s pretty straightforward actually, as recounted in lyrics to Motorcycle Michael:

Michael let me ride his motorcycle

we took a motorcycle trip

into the wind

and he was me and I was him

We took a motorcycle trip to heaven, we were digging out the world through a colored prism

Michael let me ride

and I’m so glad he let me ride

©️1969 Lotti Golden

My first experience on a motorcycle was riding on the back of Michael’s bike while he drove. It was absolutely thrilling. I suppose those teenage hormones were raging since I was about seventeen. As we rode on the Lowe East Side my senses were heightened; I imagined the excursion as psychedelic. Moreover, “Motor-Cycle” became a metaphor for the self/discovery, coming of age aspect of my experiences described on the album.

Out of curiosity, I did try riding a bit, but it wasn’t my passion. Cycling (bicycles) were more my jam.

 

What was it like on the Lower East Side back in the late 60s?

Back in the Sixties the Lower East Side included what’s known as the East Village today. Its crown jewel was St. Mark’s Place, a nonstop 24-7 festival, buzzing with electricity, and serving as the hub for the East Coast counterculture. The street attracted musicians, artists, poets and activists. Just being there and interacting with so many like-minded people was unique to that time and place. It was as if we shared a common vision and it was exhilarating. My favorite club was the Electric Circus on Saint Marks. Sly and the Family Stone played some amazing shows at that venue. Other haunts were the Dom, a venue created by Andy Warhol for the Velvet Underground’s performances. I recall being really excited that Bill Graham’s Fillmore East was finally coming to New York. The venue was host to rock royalty: Johnny Winter (a good friend), Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, the Grateful Dead and more. The Sixties generation produced a disproportionate number of innovative artists; there hasn’t been such a concentration of talent since.

 

What was your favorite place to eat on the LES back then?

Quite honestly, I didn’t think much about food in those days. We ate when we were hungry and the most convenient place was the Garden Cafeteria, at 165 East Broadway, a neighborhood staple since the 1940’s, famous for serving artists, writers and intellectuals.

 

Do you have any fun stories of going to Atlantic Records and meeting some of the artists?

Jerry Wexler brought me to one of Aretha Franklin’s recording sessions. As we walked in, before Aretha saw us, he cautioned me to remain quiet, putting his finger over his lips, as in “shhhh.” We were in the presence of music royalty and Jerry was cautioning me to maintain proper decorum. It was absolutely thrilling to be in the studio with Aretha; she was a major influence on my vocal approach.

 

What are your thoughts on the Lower East Side in 2025? Do you still feel there’s some magic down there despite all of the changes?

I’m sad to say that gentrification has really transformed the area. It’s not what it was, but by virtue of the fact that it once was a cultural touchstone you can still find magic in places like alley ways, hidden storefronts, or sometimes wafting from sidewalk cracks. It’s kind of like the quantum mechanics principle that information can’t be destroyed.

 

Do you still write music?

After the Motor-Cycle years, I wrote and produced music for artists Celine Dion, Diana Ross, BB King, Al Green, the O’Jays, Sheena Easton and many more. I was fortunate to write and produce Billboard Top 5 hits in the U.S. and abroad. I was active until the dissolution of my Manhattan recording studio in the early 2000s due to divorce. Without a studio, recording song demos can be crazy expensive. In recent years I learned GuitarBand, a terrific platform for recording music and song demos. So I’m back in business, writing like crazy, and working on an update of the songs on Motor-Cycle for a live show. My collaborator on the Motor-Cycle revisited project is Luke Schwartz, a very gifted writer and guitarist.

 

VIDEO: Chappell Roan “HOT TO GO!”

Do you listen to any modern music? Who are you digging in 2025?

I do listen. And I’m totally digging Chappell Roan. Interestingly, her story parallels mine in some ways. She was signed to Atlantic Records with an album underway and then suddenly dropped by the label. She left LA and moved back to Missouri, totally devastated, as documented in her song “California.” Roan had the guts to pick herself up and try again with great success whereas I changed course focusing on a career in music as a writer producer. Chappell Roan’s album is autobiographical, another similarly to Motor-Cycle. Roan as an incredible talent.

 

Is there any more Lotti music in the vaults?

I don’t think there’s anything in the vaults, due to a flood, where my master tapes were stored. But there’s plenty of Lotti music currently stored in the GarageBand app and I’m hoping to release my work as an artist for the first time in over 50 years.