"There's a kind of pouring out of the heart in these records," said Brown. "'Today I met the boy I'm going to marry.' Fantastic. It's a dream world that he is creating. But the sense you get is these records are being created by someone to whom all of these feelings have been denied. And what I see this as, really, is it's like the little boy with his nose pressed against the sweet shop window … who can describe all the goodies inside but can never quite reach inside, and get them, himself."
This brings us to the strange collision of events that led Mick Brown to write this new book about Phil Spector, a man who is, after all, three decades removed from his musical prime. Three years ago, Brown and his editor at London's Telegraph Magazine came up with a wish list of past musical greats, and Spector was at the top.
"I mean, he hadn't given a major interview for 25 years," said Brown. "And so we set out to find him, and to our astonishment, he agreed to be interviewed."
Mick Brown sat down with ABC News at Spector's house recently to relive the long afternoon he'd spent inside.
"The grounds struck me as being very neglected, not well kept, but inside very beautiful, but in this rather fake baronial sort of style. Lots of marble, lots of red carpet, but beautifully furnished. There are echoes of Sunset Boulevard about this -- the great rock 'n' roll producer from yesteryear, locked away, sequestered away in his castle. A rather sort of odd atmosphere about it," Brown said.
Brown said he was given a tour of the house, and waited an hour and half before Spector's assistant announced Spector was ready for the interview.
"A few minutes later, there he was, walking down the steps," Brown recalled. "Extraordinary looking character with shoulder-length curls and black silk pajama suit monogrammed with the letters 'PS,' and 3-inch Cuban heels, blue-tinted shades, Handel playing on the inner house stereo. Diminutive little man. He looked bizarre, but in a peculiar way, rather magnificent, and walked up to me and I stood up to greet him and his first words to me were 'My, you are tall.'"
The day after Brown's story ran in the Telegraph, a stunning blond woman named Lana Clarkson was shot dead in Spector's front hall.
Clarkson had appeared in a handful of movies and television shows, with probably her best known performance in the cult classic "Barbarian Queen." But recently Clarkson had been hoping to make contacts in her coveted new job as the hostess at the VIP room at Hollywood's House of Blues. That's where she met Spector, although Clarkson told a fellow employee that she didn't recognize him.
Spector's chauffeur also testified that at first Clarkson didn't know who Spector was, but that eventually she agreed to go home with in him in his limo for a drink. Two hours later, Clarkson was dead. Spector now stands charged with her murder -- a charge he denies, saying that Clarkson committed accidental suicide.
Already, four women have taken the stand and said Spector threatened them with guns. His horrified chauffeur testified that Spector ran out of his home that evening, with the gun in one hand and blood on the other saying, he "thought he'd killed someone."