Yellow Bandanna

Jimi looked at me then and it was a look of total clarity that cut right through his spaced-out hip-tripping stoned-ness and bored deep into my skull.

“Nothin'll ever be cool again, man. You'll see. But tonight, I'm gonna set this place alight.”

He did.

I had the foresight to set up the little cine-camera I took around with me at the side of the stage. I knew we were in for something special because of King's death, but I never expected the blistering set Jimi delivered that night. For me, the standout moments were Jimi dedicating Little Wing “to the memory Martin Luther King, who was murdered today”, and 1983… “for something lost that I love dearly”.

Both songs were note perfect.

And I filmed the whole thing.

I never actually forget about the film of that particular gig, but after Jimi died, other things started happening and the thought of it got put to one side, the way certain no longer priority things sometimes do. I knew I had the film and that was enough.

Then, one day I realised that if I didn't get a move on, there'd be no way I'd ever see that film. Years had passed, technology had moved on. The kind of cine-camera I'd used back then was now obsolete. Panicking a little, I hastily shopped around and found a guy working in Devon who was willing and able to transfer my ancient cine-film onto disc for a reasonable price. I sent it to him, paid the fee upfront and I got my film and a disc back from him within a week. Then I put them to one side for a day or two.

I knew that I had something either incredibly valuable or totally worthless in my possession. If it was good footage of Jimi in concert, then it was my pension - and if it was too dark, or out of focus, blurred, obstructed, or I'd simply forgotten to take the lens cap off, then it was a very long piece of valueless celluloid.

As it turned out, it was perfect.

The angle was right, the focus was right, the lighting was right - the everything was right. As I said - it was perfect. But I still watched it four times just to make sure.

I slid the disc out of the machine and thanked the gods of current technology that I could sit and view an event from all those years ago. As I went to put it back in its case, I noticed that the man in Devon had labelled it for me. CONCERT FOOTAGE was written in blue fibre-tipped pen on the disc. Beneath it was the word BACKSTAGE. I had no memory of filming any backstage activities. Intrigued, I re-inserted the disc and forwarded it to the end of the concert footage. Nothing. I let it play on. Still nothing. Then finally, after nearly twenty minutes of nothingness, a picture rolled into place. It was Jimi, looking into the cine-camera from about two metres away.

“Hey man,” he said excitedly. “I got my bandanna back. Look.”

He disappeared out of the frame and the camera zoomed in on this young blonde girl.

“Say hello to the camera,” I heard Jimi say.

“Hello to the camera,” the girl said.

Jimi came back into the frame, grinning like mad.

“Yeah, man,” he crowed. “My yellow bandanna came back. Show him,” he said to the girl.

The girl pulled her cheesecloth dress up and off. She was beautifully naked underneath except for a bright yellow pair of panties.

Jimi stood behind her and cupped her breasts.

“Now tell the camera what you told me.”

“I stole the bandanna from out of a guitar case in Detroit Hall,” the girl said. “I knew it was Jimi's and so I took it home and made these with it.” As she spoke she slid a finger into the waistband of the panties. Then she slipped her hand down inside them. After a few seconds it became obvious she was using her hand to arouse herself.

Behind her, Jimi slid the yellow underwear down her thighs. She stepped out of them.

Then Jimi and the girl made love.

I'm not going to get pornographic, but there were some things I saw on that film that were absolutely wonderful. Jimi and that girl did everything it is possible for two people to do. It was raunchy, sexy, erotic, beautiful. It was more than fucking. I was seeing two people making love.

And just to contribute further to the myth-pool - Jimi did have a very big cock. The expressions on that girl's face ran the gamut from ecstasy to agony to awe to wonder to delight.

At one point she whispered “Thank you” into Jimi's ear.

Finally they collapsed into a sweaty heap.

Eventually Jimi got up and came towards the camera. He grinned and winked, then switched the camera off. The screen went blank.

Was it a happy ending?

It was as near to a happy ending as you ever get in the music industry.

Yellow Bandanna