Van Gaux Lives!

By Vincent Anthony Furia

What makes great art? Is artistic value intrinsic in the work itself, or could it be the circumstances in which the art is formed or received that make it great? These questions are explored in the enhanced eBook, Van Gaux Lives!
Van Gaux Lives is the fictional biography/autobiography of Van Firenze, better known in the Bay Area music community as Van Gaux, folk-rock singer and songwriter. After fifteen years of trying to realize his dreams as a writer and musician, Van Firenze dies a tragic death, falling off the bluffs of Mendocino in the summer of 1996.
Months after Van’s death, his best friend, prime-time soap star Lindsey Elmwood, releases a CD of some of her dead friend's recordings. After she features music from the CD in several videos, it becomes a smash hit leading to a tribute album featuring many of rock's premier artists. Eventually several more releases over a span of five years produce platinum success. Curiosity aroused by Elmwood’s reticence concerning Van’s past and the circumstances of his death create a figure of tragic proportions comparable to his namesake. The public demands to know more.
In 2002, Rolling Stone writer Will Conroy is given the task of writing Van Gaux’s biography. Through his research Conroy begins to believe that Van Firenze is actually alive. He then presents Van's previously missing autobiography, which tells the story of the singer's life using song lyrics as springboards to his memories. At the end of each chapter Conroy presents the perspectives of Van's contemporaries, painting the complete portrait of the artist and the man...
But is Van really dead? Could one man have perpetrated such a hoax? How did Conroy get Van’s autobiography, believed missing for years, and why was he only finally able to publish in 2016?
Van Gaux Lives! is a unique story combining poetry, prose, and music. It presents one man's life following a dream through drugs and self-destruction, mysticism and religious rebirth, angels, visions, nightmares and hallucinations, broken hearts, and ironic twists of fate. While many of Van’s friends and lovers fall victim to the various insanities of the late twentieth century, he tumbles through it all, holding on tightly during the roller coaster ride that is his life. Through his songs and stories, Van Firenze presents an American landscape familiar to most of the Baby Boomer and “X” generations. The reader is able to instantly hear Van’s music via the enhanced features of the eBook, connecting directly to SoundCloud playlists and a dedicated website providing the reader with instant access to nearly sixty original songs!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vincent Anthony Furia
• Release date: Dec 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370397488

Vincent Anthony Furia

Vincent Anthony Furia has been writing songs and stories since he was four years old. Inspired by writing the anecdote “Stealing Anna’s Pain” for the magazine Morbid Curiosty in 1996 he began work on Van Gaux Lives! later that same year. He worked for years to publish the novel until finally deciding to self-publish in 2015. He has also completed the screenplay for his original rock opera “The Artist” and co-wrote a teleplay with novelist Alysia Helming for an un-filmed television pilot titled “One Degree of Separation”. Under his given name and as Vince Charming he has been writing and performing original music for thirty-five years. He has written nearly three hundred original songs. He has released three solo CD’s and performs regularly in Northern California as a solo artist and backed by his band.

Book preview

Most of what you are about to read was written in 2002. As I prepared the book for publishing in 2016, I had to decide whether to update the text or leave it as is. Many changes have occurred in fourteen years including the deaths of some people mentioned as well as marriages, breakups, musical developments, etc. I have decided to leave everything as is in order to preserve the integrity of the narrative. The Internet can provide updates for those needing an immediate update.

The reader may also be surprised by my use of the first person while telling Van’s story. As you will read later on, my life became intertwined with the life of Van Gaux in a way I could never have imagined. When I wrote the version of the book you are about to read, I realized that first person, though quite unorthodox for a biography, made the most sense.

Finally, I wrestled mightily with how to include hyperlinks for those wanting to hear Van Gaux’s music as they read the story. Anytime one of his album titles is mentioned, I’ve placed a link to an official Soundcloud playlist that features songs from that CD. Each time Van provides lyrics to one of his songs, if it was from an official CD, a link was provided to the song on Soundcloud as well. During my research for Van’s biography, I was given full access to his entire recorded catalogue. For my convenience at the time, I made digital copies of quite a few songs that were never officially released. I have posted some them at www.vangauxlives.com. When appropriate, I have included hyperlinks directly to those songs. The only material you won’t be able to link to while reading are songs from Bedroom at Arles which are performed by other artists. Legal issues prevented them from being on Soundcloud.

I hope you enjoy this blend of storytelling and music that can only be experienced in the enhanced eBook format.

Will Conroy

Amsterdam

July 2016

Part I

Prelude

(Remembering…)

I had a bit of an inner struggle before I began to write my story. At this point in my life, I wasn’t sure that anyone would want to read about me.

I have been writing songs for seventeen years and performing them for the past fourteen years. In that time I haven’t generated enough interest in those songs to make a career. Numerous times people have complimented me on my songs and said that listening to them was like reading a short story or small novel. I have always set out to tell stories with my songs, sometimes literal accounts of my own experiences, sometimes creating fictional characters who represented different aspects of my personality and various friends, lovers and acquaintances. What I have also realized is that there are several other stories, some that I have never told, that are worth telling.

It wasn’t until my first year in my teaching credential program at UCLA that I thought about writing about my life in prose form. I had an assignment to use an object and write about the memories connected with it. This made me think of all my songs and the memories and stories connected with each one. It was then that I first conceptualized what I am about to begin. My idea was to use my lyrics to bring back my memories and to tell the stories connected with, as well as the inspiration for, each song.

This idea stirred in my mind for two years until this past spring when I decided to take the summer off and try my hand at writing this. Before I began, I consulted my best friend and confidante, Lindsey Elmwood. Until this past year, she had been a struggling actress in New York.

This spring she landed a role in a new, prime time soap and relocated to Los Angeles. I went down to visit her before I began and tossed around some ideas with her. She has been a great source of inspiration to me since we met in 1988. Perhaps the process of writing my story will propel me into a new chapter of my creative life.

Prelude II

(The Biographer)

My name is Will Conroy. For several years, at the turn of the century, I was a writer for Rolling Stone. For over a decade I’ve been a nervous expatriate living in Amsterdam. I have a message to send to the pop music fans of the world: Van Gaux Lives! For some of you that name may not seem familiar, but for many it conjures up a period of pop music history that intrigued millions.

Remember back in the early to mid-nineties when conspiracy theories abounded? There was Oliver Stone and his movie JFK, Elvis was sighted in every 7-11 from Maine to San Diego, and The X-Files made people think the government was responsible for hiding the existence of extraterrestrial beings. My belief in this particular conspiracy ended my journalistic career. It is only now that I dare publish this book.

What I have to tell may be more unbelievable than any of those stories. Van Firenze, better known as Van Gaux, one of the biggest pop sensations of the late nineties, propelled to stardom after a tragic death, was alive and well the whole time. He handed me the computer disks that contained the prelude that you have just read and the chapters yet to come. To set up the story properly, it’s vital to recall his amazing rise to fame after his alleged death. Later, you will read more about Van’s life, music and inspirations from his own, supposedly lost autobiography.

In late August of 1996, Van Firenze, known in the Bay Area music community as the folk-rock singer, Van Gaux, took a trip to Mendocino with his friend, and later famous actress, Lindsey Elmwood. Despondent over the recent break-in at his Berkeley apartment and the theft of his guitar, bass, keyboard, recording equipment and computer (including his recently penned autobiography), Van and Lindsey took a little vacation to ease his depression.

On a particularly foggy and windy day, the two friends took a walk out on the bluffs overlooking the ocean. According to Elmwood, Van ran ahead to look at some passing dolphins when he slipped on the rocks. He fell several hundred feet down the sheer cliff and was washed out to sea. An extensive Coast Guard search proved futile. His body was never recovered. A police investigation ensued and suicide was considered. Lindsey insisted that, although Van was depressed, he in no way meant to take his own life.

Initially his death affected few. His friends and family missed him, but Lindsey took it very hard. She had just landed the lead as the blonde temptress on the nighttime soap Brentwood Heights for ABC, which was beginning its first season. As the show took off in the ratings, Elmwood was near a nervous breakdown. She took a few weeks off and returned to Berkeley to organize a tribute concert for Van, using her own money to promote the show.

After assembling many of Van’s former band mates and musical associates, she put on a show at the fabled Freight and Salvage Coffee House in Berkeley. The show sold out and was written up in all the local newspapers.

As a music columnist for the Bay Guardian, a local weekly, I covered the concert and wrote a review. I had seen Van perform on a few occasions over a span of many years and had enjoyed his music. He had gigged on and off for over fourteen years, but never reached a level of real success. I remember thinking how ironic it was that Van was finally getting positive press, three months after his death. That was just the beginning.

Among Van’s remaining possessions was his entire musical catalogue. This included the lyrics and chord charts to nearly two hundred original songs. In addition, he had amassed over three hundred taped hours of his music including live performances and unreleased studio recordings. These ranged from raw demos to high quality live performances and well produced studio tracks. From 1982 to 1989,Van had performed with at least five different bands under his given name. With 1989, he reinvented himself as Van Gaux and set out creating his now famous blend of folk, country, rock, blues, and alternative music.

When Lindsey Elmwood was going through Van’s tapes and music notes, she found a handwritten letter to her dated less than a year after they met. The note stated that if anything should ever happen to Van, he wanted Lindsey to take possession of his music and attempt to make his songs live on. It was signed by Van and a witness, his friend and former band mate, Ben DeSenso. Fired with new enthusiasm and a true desire to enliven Van’s memory, Lindsey returned to Los Angeles with his tapes and lyrics.

Having been once romantically involved with Van, Lindsey also had in her own library several compilation tapes of Van’s songs that he had recorded especially for her. She began taking these to Hollywood parties and playing them for her friends. When asked, she merely stated that this new, undiscovered talent would take the pop world by storm.

What happened next is a matter of some minor controversy. Elmwood claims that someone surreptitiously made a copy of one of these compilations, entitled Songs From the Heart , and began passing it around to friends in the entertainment community. Others claimed that it was Lindsey herself who passed around these copies. In the early months of 1997, Van Gaux’s music had become all the rage on the Hollywood party circuit.

Soon, Lindsey was besieged with offers from various independent record companies to release Songs From the Heart . She settled on Boardwalk Records, a small company located in Venice that had registered some success in the alternative folk department. Going back to Van’s original four-track masters, Lindsey supervised the remixing and remastering of the songs that made up Songs From the Heart and a companion tape, Songs For the Heart. On June 4, 1997, nearly ten months after Van’s death, Songs From the Heart was released on CD, cassette and vinyl.

Distinctly lo-fi, Songs From the Heart , presented a rough, yet intriguing, introduction to the music of Van Gaux. Containing mostly acoustic guitar and piano demos, Songs From the Heart highlighted Van’s most distinctive and appealing talents, his voice and introspective lyrics. Van’s singing blended some interesting influences: a unique combination of a diverse range of singers including John Lennon, Neil Young, REM’s Michael Stipe, Jim Morrison and Bob Dylan. Most of the songs reflected unrequited love, but combined pathos with a very wry sense of humor that was soon to be recognized as Van’s trademark.

The musical exceptions to Songs From the Heart were three songs recorded on eight-track, featuring a full band instrumental accompaniment. Lindsey later revealed that two of these songs, Hungry and Be True to Yourself were the first two songs Van had written for her in late 1988. It was the latter of these two songs that first began to get airplay on college radio stations around the country. Featuring a searing, bluesy guitar riff and Dylanesque lyrics, Be True to Yourself had definite commercial potential.

Encouraged by the moderate success that Be True to Yourself was having, Lindsey Elmwood produced a video for the song that featured her as its star. Having a top-twenty rated television show and possessing amazing sex appeal, Lindsey’s presence made this video a smash success. When MTV picked it for its Buzz Bin selection late that summer, sales of Songs From the Heart skyrocketed.

Few people around the country knew about Van or that he was dead. Lindsey refused all requests for interviews and the music press went rabid trying to dig for facts about the late Van Gaux. It was at this time that my life and that of Van’s became permanently intertwined. I had had a good deal of success writing for the Bay Guardian, but had not yet conceived of what was to come.

In late August, I was contacted by the editors of Rolling Stone who had read my review of the tribute concert and asked me to write a piece about Van Gaux. No problem, I thought at the time. I had known him, seen him perform, and was familiar with many of his musical contemporaries.

Despite being warned by the folks at RS that it would be futile, I first sought out Lindsey Elmwood for an interview. I had met her briefly at the Van Gaux tribute concert the previous year and hoped that my positive review would encourage her to speak to me. Little did I know that accepting this assignment would change my life forever!

Chapter 1

(The Conspiracy Begins)

On Rolling Stone’s tab, I traveled to Los Angeles to pursue an interview with Lindsey Elmwood. I contacted her agent who promptly told me that she was giving no interviews regarding Van Gaux. When I asked him to tell her that I was Will Conroy from the Bay Guardian, he replied that he didn’t care who I was. Inspired by the big break I was getting from RS, I didn’t give up. I did some covert research and found Lindsey’s home address and phone number in Santa Monica. I called her and got an answering machine for five straight days.

On the sixth day I camped outside her house until she came home from the studio. I jumped out of my car as she approached and blocked the entrance to her driveway. She reluctantly slowed down her BMW and rolled down her window to take a closer look at me.

You’re Will Conroy, aren’t you? she asked.

Yes, remember me from the Freight and Salvage show? She peered out from her Wayfarers and paused for a moment.

"Ah, yes. You wrote that nice review in the Bay Guardian. That was sweet of you." She smiled the super-charmer that had become her trademark on Brentwood Heights Van always said he liked your column. Only local music critic worth reading. Sorry, but no interviews…not even for you. She winked, rolled down the window and drove through the gates of her home.

Undaunted, I thought I’d give it one more try. I figured if I could catch her off guard, I might be able to use my own charm to coax at least a few quotes out of her. I drank coffee all night and returned to my Westside hotel room at one in the morning. I waited another two hours reading and picked up the phone at nearly 3 a.m. Hoping to get a groggy actress in need of her beauty sleep; I was surprised to hear a very alert and awake voice answer the phone.

You’re call is late. I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes! I was so taken aback; I didn’t say anything for a moment. I wasn’t quite sure what it was she said next. It took me years to figure it out. It sounded like Faf or Vaf or perhaps Fav.

Fav….is that you?

No, it’s Will Conroy. Sorry to bother you, but I was really hoping to get you to speak about Van.

My God!…What are you calling at this hour for? Don’t you know what time it is?

Indeed, I do. That’s why I’m calling. I hoped you might realize how determined I was to get that interview. Who’s Fav or Vaf or whoever you were expecting?

She responded angrily, and then quickly cooled down. None of your business…Look, I don’t know what to tell you other than what I tell everyone else. Van’s music speaks for him. Nothing I can say will add to it. Listen to his music. Don’t waste your time asking me or anyone else who he slept with, what drugs he took or what his favorite color was. His poetry will tell you all there is worth knowing about him.

She hung up.

The next time I tried calling, her number was disconnected. There was now twenty-four hour security at her house. Had I been that obnoxious? I probably had got more out of her than any other reporter, so I returned to Berkeley, began writing my article and sought out some of Van’s ex-band mates. Perhaps they wouldn’t be so mysterious.

I was dead wrong.

I first contacted comedian Andy Morse. Years earlier, he had been the rhythm guitar player in one of Van’s earliest bands, the Lunar System Dance Band. Andy had abandoned rock ‘n’ roll and focused his energies on stand up comedy. I caught his act at the Punch Line in Walnut Creek and approached him after the show. Van Firenze! he chuckled while lighting up a cigarette. That brings up some wild memories.

Tell me about some, I smiled. He pondered for a moment, ordered a drink, waved hello to some passing customers, and took a deep drag on his cigarette.

It wouldn’t be in my best interests to talk about Van. His music speaks for itself. Was I listening to a recording? No amount of prodding could get anything out of him.

No one was willing to speak to me about Van Gaux. I was determined to write the article, so I went to the Bay Guardian’s archives and found every piece of information about Van that I could: dates of his appearances, listings of his band’s gigs, my own reviews.

I discovered that in one of my first columns I had mentioned a gig that had featured Double Cap, Van’s last serious band before inventing his Van Gaux persona. I locked myself in my room with my computer and cranked out an article reconstructing his musical career, using the repetitive comments I had received, and giving my own impressions of his music, including a very positive review of Songs From the Heart. I prayed that the editors at RS would accept this sad attempt.

Almost immediately I got a fax from RS praising my efforts. The next day, one of the main editors phoned me at the Guardian and personally lauded my article. It seemed that no one in the rock journalism community had been able to get anywhere near as much information about Van. No one was talking to anyone. It wasn’t just me. My own personal experiences with Van had been my saving grace.

I was eventually offered a job as a contributing reporter to Rolling Stone and flew to New York to sign a contract. They wined and dined me and asked me to stay in San Francisco and cover the Bay Area music scene for them. What dumb luck! I was ecstatic, having realized one of my professional dreams by presumably failing an assignment.

After I returned to San Francisco, Van’s popularity continued to rise. Both Songs From the Heart and Be True to Yourself cracked the top twenty. That fall Lindsey’s show, Brentwood Heights, became a top-ten rated show and her celebrity increased as movie offers began to come in. She declined them and made another video for Hungry from Songs From the Heart.

In November, on an appearance on The Late Show, David Letterman tried questioning Lindsey about Van. Instead of refusing, she talked extensively of the tragedy of an unappreciated artist. She then announced that twelve major acts had signed on to record a tribute album to Van entitled, Bedroom at Arles. Named after the famous painting by the artist van Gogh, this album was to feature a diverse range of artists who had come to appreciate Van’s music over that past six months including such big names as Shawn Colvin, Lyle Lovett, Tori Amos, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, and lesser known acts like the Daisies, Freedy Johnston, and David Wilcox.

At the end of the interview, she held up a blown-up picture of Van that was soon to grace the cover of the new album. The shot became the first and best-known picture of Van to go over the airwaves. Van’s short, jet black, wavy, nearly curly hair was stylistically mussed up, his trademark goatee was surrounded by a few day’s stubble, his dark, hazel eyes focused somewhere beyond the camera. He sat on his bed, dressed in black with an acoustic guitar on his lap and a pile of papers surrounding him. Behind him, on his wall, was a framed print of the previously mentioned van Gogh painting. It was a striking image. I remember thinking at the time that he was the best looking dead guy I’d ever seen. Apparently the record buying public agreed. I had a newfound respect for the savvy of Lindsey Elmwood.

Chapter II

(Tailor Made for You…)

The Holiday Season of 1997 was marked by the release of a third track from Songs From the Heart, Bring My Baby Back Home For Christmas, a catchy little rock ‘n’ roll Christmas tune. With the winter and spring of 1998, the Van Gaux phenomenon seemed to die down. My career with Rolling Stone was going well and I had written several pieces on the local scene that had been published. The production of Bedroom at Arles had been shrouded in secrecy and even the exact line-up of artists was unknown. In late May, I received a package from Boardwalk records. Along with an advance CD of Bedroom at Arles was a handwritten note from Lindsey Elmwood:

I have appreciated the way you have covered Van’s music. I feel that you and he could have been good friends. Let your editors at RS know that you have the first copy of the CD. I hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I enjoyed producing it. Let me know what you think."

Warmest regards,

Lindsey

Included in the press packet were comments from each of the artists stating how they first heard Van’s music and why they chose the songs they chose. The album contained almost all previously unreleased and unheard Van Gaux songs. I wondered what made a mildly talented television actress think she could produce an all-star rock album.

I popped in the CD and was promptly blown away. The first cut was a duet between Lyle Lovett and Shawn Colvin on Everything (A Conversation). It was startling. The entire disc was remarkably well produced. More remarkable was how each song so well suited each performer. It was almost as if Van had written the songs with that performer in mind.

San Francisco favorites, the Daisies, did a spry version of Where’s My Little Girl that would later boost them into the national spotlight. Bruce Springsteen did a solo version of Written All Over My Face that recalled the sense of humor of some of his earlier work. Song after song played on my CD player and I sat there dumbfounded. When the disc ended I went through the liner notes and discovered that Lindsey was actually the executive producer of the album and many of the artists had co-produced their own tracks. This made more sense.

However, in the press packet, all of the artists praised Lindsey for her help. Several called her work invaluable. I read through the lyrics and recalled that I had seen Van perform some of these songs several years back at a Berkeley brewpub, Saturn, where he had been a regular performer. Five years later, some of the biggest names in the business were performing his songs.

Bedroom at Arles went to number one on the Billboard charts four weeks after its release in early July of 1998. I wrote the review for Rolling Stone. On the cover of that issue was the now famous photo of Van on his bed with the van Gogh print. When requesting additional photos from Lindsey, RS was told that very few pictures of Van in his latter years existed. The headline on the cover parodied one that had accompanied a picture of Jim Morrison some seventeen years earlier: He’s Talented… He’s Sexy…and know one knew it until he was dead!

In researching my review for Bedroom at Arles, I looked into the career of the original van Gogh. His sense of isolation from mainstream society paralleled Van’s immensely. Some of Van’s lyrics dealt with madness and I began to wonder if that is why he had chosen to name himself after the dead painter. The fact that both van Gogh and Van Gaux had only become famous after their deaths was beyond coincidence. It was scary. Had Van been prophetic with his creation or merely romantically wishful? I raised these issues in my review and my editors ate it up. This kind of stuff sold magazines, I was told.

Van’s success had become so great that the ugliness that was to follow was bound to happen. Rolling Stone, until this point, had been content with the limited knowledge it had about Van’s past. The more, shall we say, outgoing publications were not. They began to search every nook and cranny for information about his life. They were no more successful than I with his friends, associates and lovers. However, when his family was questioned, more information flowed.

Van’s parents, two brothers and two sisters lived in Los Angeles and were more than willing to talk about his childhood and formative years. He had come back to live with his folks in 1993 and 1994 while getting his teaching credential at UCLA. His siblings provided some insight and a few amusing anecdotes, but the information revealed by his family just opened the door for even more questions. What had inspired this man to write the insightful emotionally charged lyrics and music that was now so popular?

It was apparent that Van kept very distant from his family for they were able to reveal little about his music or inspiration. They were unaware of the existence of many of the people in Van’s life in Berkeley who had refused to give interviews. After several articles and interviews with Van’s family the music world was shocked to learn that Van’s eldest brother Ronnie was planning a multi-million dollar lawsuit against Lindsey Elmwood.

The lawsuit contended that Lindsey had no right to be reaping the now considerable profits from Van’s music. Until this point, Van’s family had not received a single penny from the sales of his albums. The stage was set for a considerable legal battle. The consensus in the music community was that it would only be right for Van’s family to share in the profits of his music. Lindsey Elmwood’s well-paid lawyers felt otherwise. Insiders claimed that she considered herself the key to his success and that she had no intention of giving away one red cent.

I felt at this point that if Lindsey would talk to anyone about this lawsuit she would talk to me. When we spoke and I pointed out that she was successful on her own and didn’t need the money, she got indignant.

It isn’t about the money, she said. It’s about control. Only I know what is right for Van’s music. If I relinquish one bit of control, his songs will be selling Nike’s or cars in no time.

She had a point. In the wrong hands, Van’s music could be exploited unmercifully. So far, she had not only represented him tastefully, but also with business smarts. I decided not to argue any more.

The trial lasted two months. In the middle, Lindsey gave notice to the producers of Brentwood Heights that she would leave the show when her contract expired. Her press agent stated that she was now going to devote more time to the Van Gaux estate and that there were several more releases planned in the near future. She also planned to accept film offers.

The Hollywood press did not treat her so kindly. They painted her as obsessive, greedy, and foolish. During the trial, Lindsey’s lawyers brought it out that Ronnie Firenze was a recovering heroin addict and had been convicted of cocaine possession on two occasions. In general, her lawyers conducted character assassinations against the whole Firenze family. It was Lindsey’s character that truly suffered in the public’s eye.

When Lindsey’s lawyers called Ben DeSenso, Van’s Double Cap band mate, to the stand, he revealed the biggest surprise of the trial. He testified about the note Van had signed back in 1989, requesting that Lindsey take care of his musical legacy. He stated that at the time, Van was madly in love with her and, though they had split up, felt he would some day marry her. On cross-examination, Ben was asked to state his opinion of Lindsey. He felt that although Van swore by her to his dying day, she was a shallow, sly and manipulative woman.

When asked why he had never given interviews about Van or set the record straight about his music, Ben shuffled around in his seat. Reminded he was under oath, he testified that shortly before Songs From the Heart was released, he signed an exclusive contract with Lindsey paying him five thousand dollars and a percentage of future royalties for any and all interviews and information about Van’s life. The courtroom gasped. It was soon revealed that numerous others had signed similar contracts with Lindsey.

While the press had a field day with this new information, the judge could not discount a documented request by a dead man. Lindsey was awarded all rights to Van’s music and writing. Despite being sly and manipulative, Lindsey was a marketing genius. By signing up all of his former associates to exclusive contracts she controlled all pertinent information about Van’s life. What puzzled me was why she had not tried the same with his family. Did she know that they had little to reveal about his life or did she anticipate the legal battle that she had just fought? Either way I was overwhelmed with the single-mindedness that drove this woman.

She had created a musical legend by carefully manipulating the media. By denying the voracious appetite of the press, she had made Van into a mythic character that echoed his namesake. Yet the fact remained that his work did shine on its own. Van had not had the shrewdness to market himself in such a way. But one question remained. Why would a successful actress on the brink of real stardom herself, devote herself so to a dead man? What was the true nature of their relationship? For now, neither she nor anyone else was talking.

Chapter III

(When Things Get Crazy…)

At year’s end, came the third release from Van’s vast archives. This one was a great departure from his previous work. For several years, Van had worked on a project with his long-time associate and blues guitar player, Joey Sardino, a.k.a. The Tonemeister. The end result was an entire album of songs written, produced and arranged by the two of them called Cure For A Broken Heart .

Utilizing computers, synthesizers, sequencers, and Joey’s guitar playing, this album had a much better sound quality than anything previously released. Though it incorporated a wide variety of styles, it was much more polished and pop-oriented than Van’s solo work.

On first listen, the programmed drums and overly keyboard sound presented a sharp contrast to the bare bones aspect of Van’s other music. Again, I was assigned the task of writing the review for RS. I decided to give the record a few more airings before final judgment.

The more I listened, the more enamored I became of the songs. When reading the lyrics, Van’s sense of humor became more evident. It was very subtle, yet pointed. Many of the songs had catchy hooks that became irresistible after listening to them five or six times. Yet, there was a distinctively dark side to the songs as well.

It was the last song on the album that really grabbed me. "Living Among Strangers" featured a Police-like reggae/new wave beat with lyrics comparing Van’s own life to Jesus:

I look at you

But what I see

It defies your reality

You look at me

And from your view

I’m just another working for his due

I’m a soul changer

Living among Strangers…

Though all the songs were credited as being co-written by Van Gaux and the Tonemeister, Van’s lyrical voice was apparent on most of the songs. When I attempted to phone Joey Sardino, I was honestly told that he had signed an exclusive contract with Lindsey Elmwood regarding all interviews and press pertinent to Cure For A Broken Heart .

My review was mostly positive, though I managed to mention my distaste for the computerized feel of the album. I commented that these songs, if performed by a band, would have made an excellent pop record. As it stood, it was merely very good.

The album sold even more copies than either of the previous two releases, going double platinum in a few months. This was not without some critical opposition, however. Several Bay Area writers slammed the record and its pre-programmed sound, mentioning that it was Van’s sparse arrangements and simplicity that made him great. It sparked some debate within the music community, but certainly not the record buying public.

Joey Sardino was a mildly successful blues musician at this point. His band, Strato-Sphere, gigged regularly around the Bay Area and had released several independent CDs. Cure… had moved him into the limelight and landed him a guest spot on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Also on that show was none other than Lindsey Elmwood. Strato-Sphere did one of their own songs and then a version of "Another Sunny Day" from Cure… It was the most blues-orientated tune from the album and had the bizarre lyrical topic of California’s historical struggle with drought and water politics.

At the end of the interview, Lindsey announced the next planned release from the Van Gaux archives. Hiring on Joey as co-producer, she was planning on taking Van’s acoustic demos and adding full band accompaniment. She stated that she was confident that the many hours Van and Joey had spent together composing, creating, and performing would qualify him to best arrange the music.

The two of them spent almost all of 1999 working on this new project, again shrouded in secrecy. Lindsey and Joey had two advantages: there was newer and better recording technology. Van had recorded dozens of songs on four-track, with his guitar or bass or other instruments all on separate tracks. This made it very easy to transfer to superior quality tape and add new instrumentation.

Just in time for the Holiday Season, the now booming Boardwalk Records released Passing Through featuring fourteen all new Van Gaux songs. When I received my advance copy, I listened with a certain degree of trepidation. So far, all of Van’s music had been heard exactly the way Van had intended it to be. Even though Lindsey and Joey were, perhaps, two of the people closest to Van in life, there was no guarantee that they could successfully interpret his vision. Having listened to hundreds of demos by up-and-coming artists in my journalistic career, I knew that they usually represented a sketch of what the song was to be. Doing this to Van’s songs would be like taking a van Gogh sketch and then making the finished painting.

What I heard absolutely amazed me. They had taken a wide variety of songs left by Van and adorned them with backing tracks that perfectly suited each song. Your basic rock electric guitar, keyboards, bass & drums backed some tracks. Some had beautifully arranged strings. Others had drum loops and synths blending with Van’s voice. Finally there was a bunch of country-styled tunes that featured mandolin, fiddle, and steel guitar. Van’s ability to write within a diverse range of styles, yet still hold it together with his distinctive voice and lyrics, had never been made clear until now.

My review for RS gave Passing Through five stars, its highest rating. This time there was even more dissension in the critical community. Many reviewers lashed out Lindsey Elmwood, jokingly calling her Yoko and other less flattering terms. Most questioned her ability or judgment to augment Van’s music. There was still a ban on interviews and I believe that many rock writers were tired of being kept in the dark about Van’s life. They called her a megalomaniac who was more concerned with her own image than the music of her late friend.

Passing Through went straight to number one and was one of the biggest selling albums of the year 2000. I called her and we spoke at length. She told me that this was the way Van would have wanted it, all the attention on his music and words, and not on his life. I warned her that perhaps this attitude might backfire on her and that the press was beginning to turn against her. Since she was so closely associated with Van, I stated that his image might also become tainted. She laughed it off and said goodbye.

Chapter IV

(Bad Timing…)

Whether fueled by the success of Passing Through, or a desire to prove me wrong, Lindsey started work on Van’s next release only several months later. Her press release stated that Van had a passion for performing live and that his next album would be a multi-disc anthology of live performances spanning his whole musical career. Lindsey Elmwood related, This anthology will give the public its first chance to really see Van’s growth as an artist and a human being. His musical progression from Van Firenze, bass player and vocalist in the Lunar System to his final days as Van Gaux will paint a portrait of him far better than any of us who knew him ever could.

All the tracks had been recorded live on to stereo cassettes, but were going through an extensive re-mixing and re-mastering process courtesy of advanced digital technology.

Rush-released in early fall, Van Gaux…Live? Or A Memory was an expensive three-disc set. To the casual listener, it may have been hard to believe that this was all the work of one man. Disc One contained two of Van’s earliest live performances with his first band, V. The remainder of the disc features live performances by Lunar System. It didn’t take a genius to figure what the initials of the band stood for and a quick listen to their music quickly revealed their biggest influence: LSD. Live cuts were culled from numerous East Bay nightspots including the legendary Keystone Berkeley and the Berkeley Square.

Van’s singing becomes much more confident and self-assured during the later phase of his career with his next band, Double Cap, though it’s still rough around the edges. Occasionally one can hear the folk singer struggling to break through the blues bawler exterior that Van presents. His bass playing is improved and decidedly funkier. He employed a brighter tone on his Fender bass and once in awhile breaks into some serious thumb slapping groves. His banter between songs is amusing though not as revealing as one might hope. He comes across as the consummate showman: exhorting people to dance, promoting upcoming gigs and the band’s mailing list, citing influences, joking with friends in the audience, introducing the band and once or twice, giving a brief background to an original song.

The final disc, at nearly seventy-eight minutes, features some of the various live incarnations of Van Gaux and the Tonemeister as well as numerous solo acoustic Van Gaux appearances. The full band versions of Van Gaux and the Tonemeister feature only covers, and exclusively blues numbers. The final fifty-five minutes of the disc feature Van Gaux in his most appropriate element: the coffeehouse. Most of the cuts come from his year and a half tenure in Los Angeles in 1993 and ‘94. Many are from the Santa Monica coffeehouse, Pugsly’s Place.

It is here where, for the first time, we get to hear Van talk about his music. The coffeehouse setting gave him the opportunity to tell stories and give background about his songs. He laughs, laments, and jokingly checks if anyone is paying attention, and in some particularly poignant moments, lets it all hang out.

Though Van’s guitar playing is just a shade above adequate, his songs, vocals and stories are quite appealing. As fascinating as the first two discs are from a historical perspective, they don’t really compare to the final part of disc three.

However, to listen to the evolution of an artist through his music was an experience I completely enjoyed. As a critic I had always been able to see an artist or band develop, change, grow or regress over a span of years. In the three plus hours it took to listen to Live? Or A Memory I experienced Van grow, change and reinvent himself over and over. What if Van had been able to assemble a new band to play the music he created just before his death? Would he or wouldn’t he have been able to finally find success? I had known this man, however casually, and not seen him for what he was.

Live? Or A Memory was the poorest selling Van Gaux release yet. Although my review in RS was mostly positive (three stars) it was slammed almost universally as being excessive and superfluous. The hefty cost of a three-disc set didn’t help matters either.

It became fashionable to dismiss Van Gaux at this point. He had ridden the wave to success, albeit from beyond the grave, and was about ready to crash on the shoreline. A few of the solo acoustic cuts did receive some serious airplay on college radio. His fame had come full-circle. It was the alternative college radio circuit that had first embraced Songs From the Heart and this same group was supporting the more intimate aspects of Live?… now that it was out of favor with the mainstream.

At this point in my career for Rolling Stone I had relocated to New York and was steadily moving up the magazine’s ladder, having been recently named a contributing editor. In April of 2001 I got a call from Jann Wenner, himself, requesting a meeting in his office. I didn’t know whether to be worried or excited. The founder of the magazine didn’t have too much involvement it its operations back then. Imagine my surprise when I walked into his office and found none other than Lindsey Elmwood seated on the divan. What was to follow launched me on a journey that was to change my life, and send me on a downward spiral from which I am just now beginning to recover.

Chapter V

(I’ll Be Damned…)

At the meeting I was informed that Lindsey had just signed an exclusive deal with Rolling Stone and Straight Arrow Publishers to publish the biography of Van Firenze. About time! Lindsey smiled at me and told me the reason I had been asked to join this meeting.

Will, both Jann and I agree that there is nobody better suited to this task than you. We want you to be Van’s official biographer.

Though it was not all that surprising, I was completely overwhelmed. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. I knew that Van’s story would be one well worth telling and that even the people who were now slamming him publicly would be quick to read an entire book about his life.

Jann informed me that I would take an indefinite leave of absence from the magazine in order to devote all of my time to the book. Lindsey stated that I, alone, would be given full and complete access to Van’s life. This included his writings, tapes, interviews with all the principals in his life, and most importantly exclusive interviews with the woman who had been his best friend in life and after death. It was an awesome task, but I was up for it. I had tired quickly of New York and was anxious to get back to California.

My first trip was to Los Angeles and Lindsey’s new home in Malibu. We started the first of what would end up being eight interview sessions. My first questions involved her timing with this project. She confirmed what I had already guessed. She had known that Van’s music would be successful, but that, at some point, it wouldn’t be enough. That was why she had risked her money by signing so many people to exclusive contracts. It was a gamble that was now paying off handsomely.

Disappointed by the sales of Live? Or A Memory , and with Van’s library of music nearly depleted, she figured that the time was right to tell his story. By controlling access to those closest to him, she knew that his story could be told accurately and with taste. She had feared the tabloid journalism that had haunted many other tragically deceased rock celebrities. She claimed that it wasn’t the money, the fame or glamour that she sought, but a true devotion to her friend.

However, as soon as the book deal was announced, the vultures pounced. Called desperate and greedy, Lindsey was portrayed in the tabloids as trying to squeeze every last dollar out of a dead man. Tabloid reports contained a wide variety of ridiculous rumors about Lindsey. One had her addicted to crack cocaine. Another linked the two of us romantically. Still, a third claimed that she was a gambling addict who lost hundreds of thousands of dollars a year in Lake Tahoe casinos.

The first two rumors were easy to dismiss. Anyone spending time with Lindsey could tell she was no crack addict. As for she and I being romantically involved, that was just as ludicrous. Lindsey had been involved with writer, Mitchell Taylor, as far back as her Brentwood Heights days. Mitchell was a successful playwright and the two were truly in love as far as I could tell. I had met him on a few occasions and they were two peas in a pod. I was surprised they had never married.

It was the last report that I had trouble dismissing. During the course of our interviews, Lindsey informed me often that she needed to go out of town. I didn’t think twice about it until I noticed some matches from Caesar’s Tahoe in her kitchen. I was puzzled. Should I press her on this issue or not? Would she deny these outrageous rumors? I was shocked with what she said.

"Will, I am going to be honest with you because I trust and respect you. I know that anything I say about my own personal life today will not affect anything you say in your book. I have