The Rock 'N Roll Detective's Greatest Hits - a Spike Berenger Anthology by Raymond Benson Page A

knew some Alzheimer’s patients became terribly angry and belligerent with the world around them. In many ways they were aware of what was happening to them and couldn’t deal with it—hence, they lashed out at their loved ones and anyone else that invaded their space. It was truly a cruel disease.
    Berenger allowed himself to wander through memories of Ann Berkowitz when she still lived at home. Of course, she had been Ann Berenger then. She had been a babe and enjoyed flirting with other men. His poor father didn’t have a chance. She had always set her sights above and beyond Daniel Berenger and nothing was going to stop her from attaining the level of satisfaction with life and love she desired. It was only recently that Berenger began to admire this trait in her because he recognized it in himself.
    He reached over the arm of the chair and picked up his CF Martin D-15 acoustic guitar from its stand. It wasn’t particularly high-end—all his good stuff was at the office studio—but it was a wonderful instrument to mess around with at home. He set it in his lap and wrapped the fingers of his left hand around the rosewood fingerboard and strummed a loud E minor chord. From there he went to an A major and back to E minor. Berenger began to riff on the two chords, creating a melancholy melody that complemented his mood. After a minute or two, he went into an old song he had written for his band, The Fixers. It was their one single, a tune called “Moonbeams on Mars.” As far as he knew, it was never played on any radio station, even in Austin, where the band enjoyed a small following.
    Berenger formed The Fixers with his friend Charlie Potts after he had come home from Southeast Asia in 1978. He had learned his current trade in the army but he wouldn’t explore it further for another fifteen years. The stint with CID had toughened him and gave him discipline—but his heart had always been in music. His high school band had been a lot of fun but as with most teenage garage bands, there was no money to be had. Lugging around equipment in a borrowed van was more hassle than it was worth. With the money he had saved from his army salary, Berenger invested in a decent rig, called up Charlie, and before long they were jamming in Daniel Berenger’s garage, just like they had done in high school. When they added two more guys to fill out the sound, Berenger realized that they had something worthwhile going.
    The Fixers was a Prog Rock/Art Rock group that fit in well with the underground club scene in Austin. Luckily, Austin was always a haven for eclectic music. Just about any musical genre could thrive in Austin as long as it was good . The Fixers were talented indeed. A local manager heard them and signed them for a one record deal. They recorded it in a week, released the album and a single in 1979, and buried the unsold copies in a landfill in 1980. Apparently, Prog and Art Rock just didn’t have the impact it once had earlier in the decade. The latter seventies were dominated by Disco in one camp or by Punk and New Wave in the other. The failure hit Berenger hard and he drowned himself in liquor and drugs throughout most of the rest of that year. In early ’81 he took the job as tour manager for Grendel and his life turned around.
    Berenger continued to strum the guitar, every now and then stopping to take a sip of the whiskey. With his throat wet he started to sing some of his old tunes as he played, wallowing in the nostalgia.
    The eighties had taken him deeper into the rock music industry. He became a manager and producer for a handful of Texas bands until he decided to move to Los Angeles and try his luck there. For five years he managed a couple of top grade acts and produced a few notable albums. Finally, in 1988, he produced his friend Charlie Potts’ solo album, which made it into the Top Ten. The collective experiences gave Berenger footholds into every aspect of the business. He had gotten to know all the