For a while, Al had a $5 million pledge for legal fees from Paul Allen, who was himself interested in acquiring the catalog. Allen's potential financial backing did little to assuage Lewis' anxiety over the case's potentially disastrous financial consequences, something he says he worried about every day. Explains Lewis, "When you have a bacon-and-egg breakfast, the chicken is involved, but the pig is committed. We were committed to this litigation before Paul Allen was involved." (Allen and Al later had a falling-out, one reason the current Experience Music Project is not exclusively a Hendrix museum.)
The big break came in the form of an anonymous phone call from a U.S. attorney. "He said he was a big Jimi Hendrix fan," explains Lewis, "and that he was calling from a pay phone so it couldn't be traced." This deep throat informed Lewis that, as part of its tax fraud investigation of entertainment lawyer Harry Margolis, the Justice Department had seized and converted to microfiche a huge number of documents relating to the Hendrix case from a warehouse behind the Ample Hamper delicatessen in the Virgin Islands.
Justin Dylan Renney
Don’t call me whitey:
O. Yale Lewis in his “funkadelic” tie, a gift from Dr. Funkenstein himself.
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"We staffed up massively," says Lewis. "We had 14 lawyers, and we bought a microfiche machine and had people reading the documents around the clock. It was really tedious labor." The case lasted more than two years, and though the settlement marked the end of Lewis' involvement in Hendrix affairs, the family continued to battle over Jimi's legacy, with Janie ultimately winning the rights to the estate over Jimi's brother Leon.
That Lewis received a tip from a devoted Hendrix fan is telling: His work constantly puts him in contact with artists about whom millions are passionate. A recent perk occurred during a business trip to Detroit. He and George Clinton were in a hotel lounge when the house jazz band recognized Clinton and invited him onstage. After a halfhearted protestation, Clinton accepted, performing "his whole repertoire," says Lewis. As word of the performance spread, the lounge quickly went from mostly empty to overflowing.
Lewis says he found the performance, and the circumstances leading up to it, "absolutely stunning," but he concedes that he likely didn't enjoy it as much as many others did. (Lewis also received neckties as gifts from Clinton, who told him the subdued ones are "from Parliament," the flamboyant ones "from Funkadelic.") His primary interest is in the legal issues. "It's nothing I would've envisioned," he says of representing entertainers. "It came from following my interest in intellectual property issues. I remain largely uninitiated in the ways of the entertainment world." His clients find this amusing. "I remember one time, I got a call from Courtney Love," whom he represented along with her daughter, Frances Bean Cobain, in their successful lawsuit for control over the Cobain legacy, and with whom his firm recently settled a fee dispute. "She said, 'Last night, there was this big event that's very important to people in the industry. It's called the Grammys.'"
Terri Williamson, who became a Lewis client partly on Love's recommendation, confirms Lewis' lack of familiarity with the entertainment world. "Clueless might be an understatement," she says. "But [his ignorance] is endearing." And, she notes, he immerses himself in industry details for his cases, as he did when he represented her and her corporation, Glow Industries, in a trademark infringement lawsuit against Jennifer Lopez for the star's Glow by J.Lo perfume.
"From the beginning, he really took the time to understand what I do," Williamson explains, adding that he was the first lawyer she had dealt with who had done so. "He asked me to do a primer on the beauty industry for him. He went from 'I know there's soap and shaving cream out there and I use them' to a complex understanding of market size and product niches." Lewis' understanding evolved to the point where Williamson, who has an MBA from the University of Chicago and nearly a decade of consulting experience, now views him as a business adviser. "There have been opportunities that have come my way in the past year where my initial reaction has been caution or dismissal. Then, when I run them by Yale, he sees the opportunities that I missed."
While the cases keep rolling in, none has been as high-stakes as the Hendrix catalog dispute. Asked whether he would take on a case like that again, Lewis says, "Not voluntarily. I learned a lot, so I suppose it would be easier the second time. But then, I wouldn't learn as much." He pauses for a second. "No, I certainly would not do that again."
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