Keith Richards
<p class="MsoPlainText"><a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=wLGpJ_8I6WYC&pg=PA98&lpg=PA99&source=bl&ots=yR8qWUf1x-&sig=Dx8slKUcUP2FmrPJUC_DU8KGvbA&hl=en&sa=X&ei=H8AoU5iKDJOn0gG414CYDA&ved=0CCsQ6AEwAQ#v=onepage&q&f=false">http://books.google.com/books?id=wLGpJ_8I6WYC&pg=PA98&lpg=PA99&source=bl&ots=yR8qWUf1x-&sig=Dx8slKUcUP2FmrPJUC_DU8KGvbA&hl=en&sa=X&ei=H8AoU5iKDJOn0gG414CYDA&ved=0CCsQ6AEwAQ#v=onepage&q&f=false</a>
Faithfull: An Autobiography
By Marianne Faithfull</p>
<p>
The snare was going to be drugs, of course. They would set it all up with the West Sussex police and that would be that. Their master stroke was to bring David Scneiderman (alias David Britton alias David Henry) over from California with loads of LSD to set us up.</p>
<p>
They must have flown him in for this bust. He appeared very fast; right after the writ had been issued he showed up at Robert Fraser's flat.</p>
<p>
Robert called up and said: "We've got this guy here, David Schneiderman, a Yank, just got in from California and he's brought this great acid with him from the States. It's called White Lightning or something fabulous like that and he wants to lay some on us, man."</p>
<p>
So I said, "How fucking great! Wait, Robert, I've got a fantastic idea, why don't we all go down to Redlands for the weekend. I'll call Keith right now and set it up. What's this guy's name, again?"</p>
<p>
"Schneiderman, David Schneiderman, the Acid King. Flew in this morning."</p>
<p>
"Well, don't let him get away!"</p>
<p>
Bang! Like that. That's the way it came about, this "most famous house party of the twentieth century." It was all very organized, like it was when you took acid in those days. We got hold of a van, mapped an itinerary. You wanted to go and see marvels. The White Horse on the Downs, the Devil's Footprint, Glastonbury, Stonehenge and Avebury were favorite ones. Forests, follies, ancient ruins.</p>
<p>
February 11, 1967. On Saturday night, after Mick and Keith had finished their recording session at Olympic studios, we went down to Redlands, Keith's house in Sussex. The party consisted of Christopher Gibb, Michael Cooper, Robert Fraser and Robert's Moroccan servant, Mohammed, and Nicky Kramer, a friend of Keith's. Nicky Kramer was just a nice loon; a sort of Kings Road loon who happened along. There was Mick, Keith and myself. And, of course, David Schneiderman. Very West Coast; very pompous and opinionated. Getting high came with a little moral, its own California koan.</p>
<p>
"This is the tao of lysergic diethylamide, man. Let it speak to you, let it tell you how to navigate the cosmos." It was all a bit too reverent and pretentious for our taste, but he did have the goods.
...</p>