The Stories Behind the Songs
You Always Remember Your First Time
By Dodd Michael Lede
Spring, 1990 — Los Angeles, California
It was a Thursday night on the Sunset Strip. I had just landed that morning to visit Devin, who had recently relocated to L.A. to immerse himself in the music scene. That’s what serious musicians did — and Devin was nothing if not serious. The rest of the band was still back East, but that didn’t stop him. He’d fly home, jump in the van, and hit the road. But Los Angeles? That was where he needed to be.
Devin had been living out here for a few months when I arrived. His roommate was a guy named Andrew — a guitarist he’d met on tour in San Diego. That night would be my first time meeting him. Funny enough, we all shared the same birthday — same year, too. It became a running joke: we were the same person in three different bodies.
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First Time at the Whisky
I had always wanted to visit the Whisky a Go Go. As a massive Van Halen fan, it was sacred ground. Devin and Andrew knew that — so of course, that’s where they took me on my first night out. We were posted up at the bar when she walked in.
She was a redhead. Slightly tipsy. Stunning — like a Victoria’s Secret model. And she came right up to us.
“You guys look like you’re famous,” she said.
We were in our full rock-and-roll best — long hair, eyeliner, biker boots. You didn’t go out any other way in those days. When she asked if we were in a band, Devin told her, “No, we’re just good friends.”
Her response?
“Are you guys gay?”
Without missing a beat, Devin fired back:
“Why don’t we go back to your place and I’ll show you how gay I am.”
Classic Devin — fast, fearless, and just the right mix of charm and sarcasm. She smiled. He had her hooked.
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Mary from Ivory
Her name was Mary. She wasn’t just out partying — she was networking. She was looking for a drummer for her band, Ivory. Devin and I were both singers. Andrew was a guitarist. Sadly, no drummer in our trio that night.
She left us shortly after, off to mingle with other familiar faces in the crowd. She’d been in L.A. far longer than we had. She knew people. She belonged.
But that wouldn’t be the last we saw of Mary.
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Behind the Moment
That night marked more than just my first trip to the Whisky. It was the beginning of something — a connection, a memory, a song. And like the title says:
You always remember your first time.