All language subtitles for Manson.Music.from.an.Unsound.Mind.2019_English

Let me explain something to you.

I wrote about
a couple of hundred songs.

I've got them all written down.
I'll give you an example, man.

I'll try to stick to a song...
that'll make you some money.

Let's see.

The mythology of
Charlie Manson has come to mean

above all else vicious murder,

but those terrible acts were
never what he was aiming for.

The real story of
Charlie Manson... is music.

I don't think
Charlie could have been Charlie

without the music.

He was a poet
and he believed in his music.

Music was the vehicle.

He really wanted
to spread his philosophy.

To me that seemed to be the most
important and overriding agenda.

In 1968, cult leader

and singer-songwriter
Charles Manson

gained access to the top tier
of the Los Angeles music world.

Only a year later
he was accused of being

the most dangerous man alive.

It might not be
as obvious to some people

how involved and ingrained
in the music business

Charles Manson seemed to be.

Terry Melcher is producing
The Byrds,

The Beach Boys,
Brian Wilson.

These are two
huge selling record producers

and they're looking
at you, Charles Manson.

It could never
have happened before or after.

It really was a perfect storm,
that period of time.

When somebody like Charlie
could walk into the scene.

There was no cap, no limit,
there were no rules.

This film tells the story

of Manson's musical dream
and how it all fell apart...

The story of Charles Manson

is the story of rejection
and collapse.

It was a disintegration
of Manson's dreams

and it allowed
the madness to rise.

Los Angeles. August 9th, 1969.

At the tail-end of one
of the most tumultuous decades

in American history,
the city's residents awaken

to the news
of a brutal multiple homicide

in the very heart of Tinseltown.

In a crime scene that police say

resembled
a ritualistic mass murder,

five persons including
the actress Sharon Tate

were found slain at the home
of Ms. Tate and her husband,

screen director Roman Polanski.

Ms. Tate who was
eight months pregnant

and the other victims were
discovered dead this morning

at the Hilltop Estate
in Benedict Canyon.

Most have suffered
multiple stab wounds,

while one had been shot
at close range.

Murders in Los Angeles are

a regrettable formality.

They happen -
in California, in America,

especially where gun crime
and knife crime is prevalent.

This was out of that league.
This was premier league horror.

We are talking
about the slaughter

of an 8 and a half month
pregnant woman

and the murders
of those present

with such violence
inflicted on them

which appeared
to have no bounds.

This was something else.
It was absolutely shocking.

The fact that one of the victims

was a Hollywood star,

and the wife
of a famous film director,

saw the story
hit the headlines worldwide.

The following day, two more
murders were discovered

less than 15 miles away,

again the targets
of a savage home invasion,

and this second attack
sent further shockwaves

through the local community.

From the beginning,
stories would elude

to the savagery,
the brutality of what was done

and some facts got
in the newspaper.

Within a few days
you could not buy a gun

in Los Angeles anymore.

The stores,
the shelves were bare.

Guard dogs that sold
for $100 before the murders

were going for
as much as $2,000.

It would take months
for the police

to apprehend the culprits.

And when the arrests
were eventually reported,

the world was stunned.

Charles Manson,
the head of a hippy commune,

and a number of his mostly
female followers, were charged

with some of the most violent
murders in American history.

Only two years beforehand,

California had been
the epicenter

of the Summer of Love,

where the flourishing
counterculture

celebrated peace
and understanding.

But this younger generation
had always been viewed

with skepticism
by conservative Americans,

and over time as the movement
became more radical

it also became
more threatening.

Through Manson and his band
of murderous flower-children,

that potential threat
had now become a reality.

The average American

looking at the coverage
of the Manson case,

didn't feel any identification
with Sharon Tate

or these other families
in Hollywood.

What they felt was
these kids are out of control.

They experienced it
as indistinguishable

from campus rebellions
and the riots in Chicago

and protests.

From the standpoint of
the so-called silent majority,

it was a sense
of these spoilt kids.

All they want to do
is this rabble rousing

and take drugs
and have sex.

And then you bundle
all that up

into the worst possible version
of it

and there's the Manson murders.

But the case
was also baffling

and the motives for
the murders remained unclear.

Although the press
were quick

to run stories of drug-fueled
orgies and satanic rituals,

as the District Attorney
and the police probed

deeper into the testimonies
of those involved,

a complex story emerged.

Manson was not simply
the isolated cult leader

nor the cold-blooded
career criminal

that his profile suggested.

He was also a singer-songwriter

with connections
at the very top

of the LA music scene.

About early December 1969,

the first stories started
to appear

in the Los Angeles
newspapers,

that Manson may have
committed this crime

as trying to either kill or
get even with Terry Melcher,

who's the son
of actress Doris Day.

To young America,
Terry Melcher

was a famous name
because of his work

with The Byrds, with Paul Revere
and the Raiders.

To middle America

he was the son
of America's sweetheart.

But as the investigation
would continue,

the story started
appearing in the paper.

A name at a time.

Terry Melcher certainly,

Greg Jacobson who was
part of the music scene,

but other names too.

Dennis Wilson, Neil Young,

John Phillips,
Buffy Saint-Marie.

It became apparent
early on

that music was a big part
of whatever it was

that made up
Charlie Manson.

And Manson's
musical journey began here.

San Francisco, 1967.

A city at the heart
of a cultural revolution.

Since the end
of the Second World War

it had emerged
as a beacon

for those looking
to escape the conservatism

of middle America

and explore alternative
lifestyles and attitudes,

and it became
the West Coast stomping ground

for the writers
of the Beat Generation.

But it was
in the mid-1960s

that the city
fully blossomed

as a hub of creativity,

its youth fueled by new music,
new drugs and new ideas.

And the nerve center

for this cultural
and artistic activity

was
the Haight-Ashbury district.

Haight-Ashbury in 1967.

In part
it's a bit of an accident.

The Beat scene had been
located in North Beach.

But there's a new availability
of housing, and cheap housing.

San Francisco State
University students

start moving in.

And then the artists come

and they create a very...

It's small but it's a vital,

collaborative cooperative
do-it-yourself art scene.

The musicians are
a big part of that.

The Grateful Dead are there
at 710 Ashbury,

Janis Joplin lives there.

Jefferson Airplane is
the first big band

to hit it there.

When you put all those
creative people together

they start feeding off
of each othe's energy.

I think the big picture
is the fight

for personal, artistic
and sexual freedom.

There was something
going on here

that was pushing
for expanded freedoms

across many dimensions.

Although in the mid-1960s

the city's crusade
for expanded freedoms

was not unique,
the driving force

behind its particular vision
of freedom was.

While a vibrant youth culture
had been thriving

in cities across Europe
and America

since the emergence
of the Beatles

at the start
of the decade,

no other scene had access

to the Haight-Ashbury's
drug of choice - LSD.

This powerful hallucinogen
was at the very center

of the San Francisco
experience,

informing the music,
art and ideas

that were emerging
from the city.

Where other drugs
affected mood,

with LSD
a user's perception of reality

was significantly altered,

and after only one "trip"

many felt they had undergone
a spiritual awakening.

It can't be
overstated, the power of LSD.

It literally elevated people
from one place

to somewhere
completely different

and transformed
people's lives overnight.

Everybody was
seeking this enlightenment,

but LSD was kind
of a shortcut.

It kind of opened up
the top of your head

and let you see,
or at least think you saw,

this other way of life.

But it also made us
all very vulnerable

to people taking advantage.

And as the San
Francisco counterculture began

to attract both national
and international recognition

at the start of 1967,

it was the psychologist
Timothy Leary

who emerged as the most
prominent advocate of LSD,

publicly promoting

its therapeutic
and spiritual benefits.

There was a lot of talk

about expanded consciousness.

sometimes that took on
very strong spiritual dimensions

in the way people talked
about LSD and its uses.

Leary was
the new face of that story.

Tim Leary
was a Harvard professor

who essentially
became the apostle of LSD.

His background gave
a patina of a kind of authority

to his ideas about LSD
and the new world,

the kind of utopia
that it was going to introduce.

The message is very simple.

Six words:

turn on, tune in, drop out.

His slogan became:

turn on, tune in, drop out.

Get high, marijuana,
LSD.

Tune in, connect
with the kind of images,

ideas, visions
that those drugs bring to you.

And then drop out
of the society.

There was a sense that
utopia is just in the offing.

That was the idea,

that paradise
could be regained

and LSD was the path to it.

The drop out part of his message

was the most controversial.

Later he would walk
that statement back a bit.

He didn't mean drop out.

He meant think harder
about where you put your energy.

But the pebble had been
dropped in that water

and it started rippling out
in ways

that nobody could
finally control,

least of all Timothy Leary.

In the summer of 1967,

the so-called Summer of Love,

young disenchanted people
from across America

began dropping
out en masse

and flocked to San Francisco,

searching for the utopia

that Timothy Leary's vision
suggested was waiting for them.

One of the things we forget

is that Haight-Ashbury
was such a concentrated place.

It could perhaps have handled

maybe a thousand people
living there, eating there,

part of the community,

but during the so-called
Summer of Love

from '67 through '69,

the estimate is to this day

that about 300 kids a day
would show up.

And these were
the ones who had no money,

they had no place to go,

just the belief if you get there
we'll be taken care of.

That is the atmosphere.

It opened up
the possibility for predators.

From around the country
came hustlers,

the dope dealers, the pimps,

and above all, attracted
by this wonderful hunting ground

came Charlie Manson.

First arriving
in the Haight-Ashbury district

in the spring of 1967,

Charles Manson was 32
and just as keen to engage

with the utopia on offer
as the youths surrounding him.

Freshly released from
a seven-year stretch in prison,

like many of those flocking
to San Francisco,

Manson too was looking
to escape a troubled past

and to make a fresh start
in this brave new world.

Born in Cincinnati, Ohio
to an unmarried teenager,

Kathleen Maddox,
a wayward mother

at odds with
her religious family,

young Charlie Manson
never knew his father.

And at the age of only 4,

he watched his mother
being led away by police

for armed robbery,

for which she would receive
a five year jail sentence.

Manson was
every part the throwaway kid.

He was passed
to friends, to family,

anyone who would take him,

and he was then sent
to his grandparents

and then on
to his aunt and uncle.

So basically
he was passed around

and from an early age
he knew he wasn't wanted.

He lived with
his aunt, uncle and cousin

and his grandmother
came to see him.

There was no reason to say
that Charlie's early life

as a child was ideal.

Having your mother
in prison never is.

But he always had loving people
who cared about him.

The problem was,
of course,

that Charlie was
from the beginning

a very disagreeable,
violent child.

But although
aggressive and sullen,

in his aunt and uncle's
household in West Virginia

the young Charles Manson
also found

a less destructive outlet
for his energies.

There was a piano
in his uncle and aunt's house

and even as a tiny child,

and you need to remember
we're talking about a boy

who even at 5 years old
looked perhaps 3.

His hands were tiny.

But he would stay
at the keyboard

and by ear pick out songs.

The songs in his life
at that time

came from one
of two categories,

church music
or country music.

He was something
of a musical prodigy.

He hated going to church
except singing,

and when he would sing,

he would join in
so wholeheartedly

that his grandmother would
believe the spirit of the Lord

must be descending
on this child.

This natural gift
for music was not enough

to curb Manson's delinquent
tendencies, however.

In his teenage years
his criminal activities,

including theft and burglary,
saw him arrested countless times

and detained in
a number of reform schools

and correctional institutions.

And as he gained
a criminal education

while incarcerated,

by his early 20s his main
aspiration was to become a pimp.

Manson was
every bit the petty criminal.

He couldn't really organize much

and as his rap sheet concludes
he kept getting caught.

Charlie Manson was a failure

as a criminal
in every way.

He started out shoplifting
and always got caught.

He would steal cars,
they would track him down.

Finally, when we decided after
learning the trade from pimps

and his first stint in prison

that he would run
a string of girls,

he could never keep them
very long.

The thing that carried over
from his early criminal career

is a tremendous eye
for those who can manipulate.

Manson would explain

his philosophy of attracting
first his prostitutes

and later his female followers

as always find the ones
who were bent or cracked

but not completely broken.

Despite a brief attempt

to settle down in the mid-50s

which saw him return
to West Virginia

and marry a local waitress,

criminal instincts
were now ingrained in Manson.

At the end of the decade

an attempt to establish himself
as a pimp in New Mexico

once again led to his arrest,

and this time
he was incarcerated

at the isolated, medium-
security prison McNeil Island,

on a ten-year sentence.

With no chance of escape
he learnt to play the guitar,

and his passion
for music returned.

It was at first only a pastime.

And then, in 1964,
through the radio

he heard a sound that would
change his outlook entirely.

* Oh yeah,
I'll tell you somethin'

* I think you'll understand

* When I say that somethin'

* I want to hold your hand

The Beatles'
music was extraordinary.

It was vibrant.
It was alert.

It just swept up
the youth of the world

and everyone
who came across them

was affected,
even if they disliked them

they were sort of affected
by them.

It's impossible to overestimate

The Beatles' impact
on aspiring musicians,

Charles Manson among them.

But... everybody,
anybody from that generation

talks about The Beatles
and the immediate effect.

It was huge, instantaneous
and it was lasting.

It was
a transformative moment

in his life
hearing that music.

What The Beatles do
for Charlie Manson

is they not only expand
his musical horizons,

but they expand his ambition.

Previously all he wants to be
is a successful pimp

where women go out
and do all the work for you

and you don't have
to work very hard yourself.

Now suddenly
he's got a guitar,

he knows how to play it,
he's got the inspiration

and he starts
writing songs in prison.

Terminal Island,
Los Angeles.

It was here, in 1966,
that Manson was transferred

to complete his time in prison,

his 10 year stretch
reduced due to good behavior.

At this low security prison,
Manson met Phil Kaufman,

an actor serving a short
sentence for drug possession.

We were walking
in the yard every day

between jobs and after dinner
and breakfast.

You walk in the yard
back and forth.

And this guy was
playing a guitar

and he was singing
"the shadow of your smile".

I said, "Wow, this guy's cool."

* The shadow of your smile...

So I walked up to say,

let's introduce ourselves.

And he continued playing
his guitar

and we were talking
and a guard comes up to him

and says, "Manson!
You can't play your guitar here.

"You got to play your guitar
over there in the music area."

Charlie just kept playing
his guitar.

He walked away.
And the guard yelled,

"Manson, you ain't never
gonna get out of here."

Charlie said, "Out of where,
man? The shadow of your smile."

He just carried on.
Charlie was he cool.

He played the guitar
and sang music that I liked.

He was singing standards.

Like I said,
"The Shadow of Your Smile",

other popular songs at the time.

And he sang well.

He sounded like Frankie Laine.

He was a big star
back in the 40s

and Charlie and I are
both from that era.

We're both older guys.

That was our frame
of reference.

We had Frank Sinatra,
Perry Como and that genre.

In March 1967,

Manson was up for release
from Terminal Island.

And aware of his
musical ambitions,

Phil Kaufman gave him
the details

of a valuable entertainment
contact.

When Charlie
was getting out,

I suggested he meet a friend
of mine Gary Stromberg,

who was in the music business
because I thought he was good.

Once again, this is Charlie
in prison I'm talking about.

So I'm taking that persona
and introducing him

to respectable people
in the music business,

and it turned out
just the opposite.

Once he got out
he says, "Game on."

Having been incarcerated

since the end
of the previous decade,

upon his release
Manson was cast

into a totally
foreign landscape.

The America he had known
had been transformed

by the youth culture
revolution that followed

in the wake of The Beatles.

With the assassination
of John F Kennedy,

the advent of
the Vietnam War

and the draft that was seeing
thousands of young men

thrown into a conflict
they didn't believe in,

the generation gap
that had developed in the 1950s

had now become a chasm.

The counterculture that was
spreading across the nation

viewed their elders and the
authorities with suspicion,

and was looking to reshape
the American way of life.

People realized
that as a nation,

we were spiritually bankrupt.

We'd lost our way.

The moral principles
of our constitution

and the founding fathers
seemed to have been forgotten.

This was a time of
deep alienation in the country

because of the
Vietnam War,

because of advances
in sexual rights

and a greater awareness
of racial discrimination

and the civil rights movement.

There was a great division,

but I thought
not so much as a negative thing

but one as where
we were exploring new things.

We were all going through
these sort of phases

of exploration
and innocence really.

And the 32-year-old
Charles Manson

was very keen to exploit
that innocence.

Heading first to Berkeley
and then on to San Francisco,

the city enabled him to regain
a youth lost in confinement,

and he embraced
this new culture

and its liberating power.

In Haight-Ashbury, Manson's
first impulse was to stand back

and observe the leaders
of this scene.

Over a number of weeks
he listened to the local bands,

watched the various
preachers and social activists

at Golden Gate park
and took LSD for the first time.

Then he headed down the
street with his guitar in hand

and began looking
for followers of his own.

San Francisco
was awash with gurus

and philosophers, preachers,
cults, religions,

everything imaginable
on every street corner.

Manson had his own brand
of philosophy.

He was known
as the 'gardener'.

He used to plant seeds
in people's minds.

So he brought a package
with him.

He was a very
crafty and charismatic person.

I mean, he was a great performer
and a great preacher.

He did have a good act which
was one of cosmic intelligence,

which frankly never
made sense to me

beyond two or three sentences,
but still he had it down.

Melding concepts from the Bible,

scientology and the acid gurus
surrounding him,

Manson's philosophy -
that morality was a lie,

that nothing was corrupt
except for possessions, the ego

and family -
began to draw to him

a small group of young women.

Mary Brunner, Lynette Fromme,

Patricia Krenwinkel,
Susan Atkins

- all were seduced
by Manson's charisma,

his music and the closeness
he promised them.

This small harem of followers
would act as Manson's entourage

for the next step in his plan.

With the phone number of Phil
Kaufman's music contact,

Gary Stromberg,
still to hand,

in November, 1967, he acquired
a large yellow school bus

and headed south
to the City of Angels,

his musical dream
still burning bright.

In California in
particular,

even the San Francisco bands
that were big

and thought of themselves
as sort of the upper echelon,

as Frank Zappa said,
everybody had to go down

to Los Angeles
and get their hands dirty.

That's where
the record companies were,

there's the labels, there's
the people who could sign you.

Manson went to Los Angeles
for no purpose

other than to become
a rock and roll star.

Los Angeles, 1967.
A sprawling city

powered by its immense
entertainment industry.

And although it had been
the heart the American

film world for decades,

its growth
as a thriving music capital

was a relatively recent
phenomenon.

At the dawn
of the decade,

the music industry was
predominantly concentrated

in New York.

Yet in 1961 a band emerged

who would help put Los Angeles
on the musical map.

Amid a West Coast craze
for surfing,

which produced
its own local youth culture

and instrumental rock sound,

The Beach Boys released
a run of hits

that brought this culture
to national attention.

Led by the gifted composer
and singer Brian Wilson,

with his brothers
and cousin in support,

the band's unique sound

propelled them
to the top of the music world

and immediately gave
California a cultural kudos.

The Beach Boys

and the surf music phenomenon

out of the West Coast,
the waves and the suntans

and the girls in skimpy bikinis
and dancing go-go girls

was something that kids
in the Mid-West

especially were fascinated by.
"I can go out in California

"and be living
an endless summer."

Even people in the colder
East Coast cities

saw that as an out,
way out.

People started to head
to California

in the early part of the 60s.

The Beach Boys created
that mystique nationally.

* If everybody had an ocean

* Across the U.S.A.

* Then everybody'd be surfin'

* Like Californi-a

* You'd see 'em
wearing their baggies

* Huarachi sandals too

* A bushy bushy blonde hairdo

* Surfin' U.S.A.

They had
this sort of California sun surf

which for everyone,
certainly across America

and certainly across the world,

it was a fantastic package.

And it was a brochure
to a lifestyle

which many people aspired to.

So it was good time music.

* I get around get around round,
round I get around

* From town to town get around
round round I get around

* I'm a real cool head

* Get around round round
I get around...

Surf music had been around,

but it was
instrumental music.

They never had
really good vocals on them

or vocals at all on them.

All of a sudden
Brian Wilson matches

that Chuck Berry
surf rock energy

with these amazing harmonies,

harmonies that have
sort of a jazz element to them.

There hadn't been
anything like that.

The Beach Boys didn't just bring

the allure of California
to America's teenagers.

In 1964, record companies began
opening offices in Los Angeles

and, following the impact

of The Beatles
and the British Invasion,

music television
shows were in high demand

and began filming
at Hollywood studios.

With the industry booming,
in LA itself promoters

and A&R men
were looking for local bands

to thrust into the limelight.

Enter The Byrds.

The Byrds changed

the West Coast music scene
overnight.

We had all this record company
and record business

moving out
to Los Angeles in 1964

but The Byrds
pretty much defined

what the future of music
was going to be.

They took The Beatles' beat
and The Beatles' harmony sound

and then mixed it with
Bob Dylan's lyrical profundity.

* Hey Mister Tambourine Man,
play a song for me

* I'm not sleepy and there ain't
no place I'm goin' to...

You had a progression in L.A.

The Beach Boys were
important in the early 60s

and would continue
to be so.

But what The Beach Boys
represented

by the time The Byrds
came along seemed old school,

this fun and the sun and
surfing and all this business.

This sense of a countercultural
vision of a new world.

That was kind of inscribed
in what The Byrds were doing.

* A time of love, a time of hate

* A time of war, a time of peace

* A time you may embrace...

The Byrds
morphed a pop sensibility

with a much deeper theme,

which really up until
the end of 1964

no one else had done in pop.

Dylan had done it
but he was still a folk artist.

He really hadn't penetrated
the higher echelons of pop.

We talk about "Teen Beat"
or "16" magazine,

he wasn't featuring in that,
but The Byrds were.

The Byrds were
definitely something

that was more 60's,
more modern.

They had more of a hippy look.

It was pre-hippy

but Crosby wore his cape

and McGuinn wore
his weird sunglasses

and they looked
a little edgy.

They had a cool sound.

It was just so perfect
and right for the time.

And the Byrds'
success soon inspired

a number of other local bands,
including The Doors,

Love and Frank Zappa
and his Mothers of Invention.

With marijuana more readily
available in California

than on the East coast
or in Britain,

these acts all shared
an underground sensibility,

a stoned mystique
that distinguished them

from the pop world.

And they developed as part
of a blooming scene,

its center of activity
the half-mile stretch of clubs

and restaurants
in West Hollywood

known as the Sunset Strip.

Here, at venues like
the Whisky a Go-Go,

the old Hollywood order
was being dismantled

and the seeds
of the coming hippy movement

were being sown.

Oh, it was everything.

The Strip was... there was
the Whisky and the Trip

and then there were some lesser
clubs up and down The Strip.

The Strip was the heart,
the Mecca, where you went.

You were either one
of those people who was hip,

smoking grass and stuff.

But for those people
who weren't into it at all...

Oh, boy! They were like
from another planet.

You couldn't even talk to them.

In previous
days like The Sunset Strip

when the Trocadero and the
Mocambo and the original Ciro's,

those were exclusive nightclubs

where the rich and the Hollywood
movie stars went to.

And you had pictures of Charlie
Chaplin and Marilyn Monroe

and all the big names there

but it wasn't really accessible
to normal 'Joe'.

You know, you'd see these
pictures in movie magazines

and that's about it.

Now that group of people
had gotten older.

They'd started performing
in Vegas

and teenagers
took over the nightclubs.

There didn't seem
to be this separation.

The musicians
were doing their thing

and the audience
was doing their thing

but it was all
the same thing.

We were getting high.

We were tuning into this
expressway to enlightenment.

People were just
communing with each other,

both mentally, physically.
We were in it together.

And it was into
this hip new world

that Charles Manson and his four
female followers arrived in late

Immediately arranging a meeting
with Phil Kaufman's contact,

Gary Stromberg, who was a talent
scout for Uni Records,

Manson prepared his best work
for the audition.

And Stromberg
was impressed enough

to book an hour
long recording session

at the illustrious
Gold Star Studios,

the venue from which
producers Phil Spector

and the Beach Boys'
Brian Wilson

had recorded
their most famous work.

The first
recording session we know of

for Charles Manson is
for Universal Records subsidiary

Uni Records.

The tape remarkably exists.

It's unedited
which is unusual...

and it presents a raw,
untutored... busker

previewing 20 odd songs...

with no guidance,
form or structure whatsoever.

MAN:
Hi, Charlie baby.

It's very good.

OK.

Let's see...

Do whatever
you feel like doing, man.

Yeah.

Just groove, you know.
Tell us when you're gonna start

and we'll turn the machine on.

OK, well, you know...

Can't you just turn it on
and let it go?

OK. We're going
to let it go right now.

And then take out what you want

and the rest throw it away.

I was
startled by Manson's voice.

It seemed different
then the voice

that he had
when we talked to him...

which must have been
a year or two later, in prison.

He was more playful.
He... a giggled a lot.

And he seemed nervous.

If I can make myself nervous...

I should be able
to make myself unnervous.

And it makes sense that
it works both ways, don't it?

He seems
younger than he is at the time.

You know he's in his... mid 30s.

And he seems like
he's in his early 20s

maybe when you listen to him.

But he's also nervous as hell.

And you know the
kind of command, if you know,

if someone were to say to you,
"Well, you know this guy

"is going to be like..."

set aside murderer
and all the other stuff

but , "cult leader."

You know he's going to be
commanding people

and causing them to do whatever
he wants them to do.

That just seems absurd.

He's got like ideas for a song,

he's got little sketches
in his mind

and some of them really
have potential.

They seem like they can
become something.

* Your home is
where you're happy

* It's not where you're not free

* Your home is where
you can be what you are

* 'Cause you were
just born to be

* You can have a castle

* And diamonds for all to see

* But, you'll never show
you their peace of mind

* 'Cause they don't know
how to be free

* So burn...

Your home is where you're happy.

It's a fascinating
piece of work.

That was very attractive
to young people

with no visible home
or no visible background

or no visible structure

or something
they've been alienated from

'cause they knew
their home wasn't happy.

They knew
they weren't free at home.

So they could buy into
Manson's utopian world

through the song.

* Would you mind
if I approach you

* With this song may I tell you
that I watched you

* How very long
that I watched you from afar

* And now right here you are,
so close to me

* Now I know it isn't proper...

There's a Latin influence.

There's a Jazz influence
in his stuff.

I was very surprised to hear

actually the smoothness
of some of the arrangements

or potentially
these arrangements

had a smoothness to them

that just I would never
have guessed

that would have been
coming out of Charlie.

The sessions didn't
convince Uni Records

that Manson was ready
for a recording contract.

Taking the rejection
in his stride,

he and his Family
looked for accommodation,

and found temporary lodging
at a communal house

a short walk
from Topanga Beach,

known as the Spiral Staircase.

Sharing the property
with various drifters,

drug addicts and drop-outs,

Manson and the girls settled
into a communal life.

And while he spent time
working on his music,

Manson also used the opportunity
to search for new recruits.

In December 1967,
14 year old drop-out Dianne Lake

attended a party
at the Spiral Staircase house

and became easy prey
for an ex-convict twice her age.

Charlie comes up,
gives me a... you know,

shares his root beer with me,

which was apparently
really an honor.

And invites me to come
and, you know...

sit in a circle
and sing with them.

He was playing the guitar and
the girls were all surrounding

and they all came up, hugged me,
made me feel really welcome.

Later, Charlie took me under
his wing and under his spell

and he seduced me.

He was funny. He was impish,
childlike, playful.

You know he had this...
he'd shake his head

and his hair would
kind of dance around a little.

I mean, he thought he was...
I was attracted to him.

I thought he was good-looking.

Instantly welcomed

by the other girls
in Manson's troupe,

young Dianne quickly fell in

with the group's rituals
of hallucinogens

and music, learning
every word to Charlie's songs

and joining them in
their communal performances.

I think we took
acid at least once a week.

We'd sit around in a circle

and Charlie would kind of
administer it, like a sacrament.

He'd place it on your, tongue
and go round the circle.

I mean, it was...
it was special.

And most of the trips
were good.

And most of them
were centered around music.

I enjoyed his music.

At that time,
a solo artist with his guitar

was not that uncommon.

But by 1968,
Charlie began to question

whether his chances of making it
in the music business

may be improved
if he had a band behind him.

From the Spiral Staircase house
and along Sunset Strip,

Manson put the word out
that he was forming a group

and looking for young,
gifted musicians.

One of the first to turn up
for an audition

at the communal house
near Topanga Beach

was guitarist Ernest Knapp.

It was creepy,
right off the bat.

He had this sense about him
that was... just uncomfortable.

Oddly, I didn't audition
with the other musicians.

I just auditioned for Charlie
and his family.

I set up in the middle
of the living room floor.

Put my amp down
and plugged it in.

Three of the girls
had percussion instruments...

shakers, and a tambourine
and some little drum

and actually were
accompanying me.

So... which I liked.
It was...

I'll take any help I can get,
you know.

Knapp was invited
to join the band,

and the following week
returned to rehearse

with Manson's
quickly assembled ensemble.

ERNEST KNAPP:
Once we had some songs

we knew we could play...

"So, OK, Charlie, what you got?"

And he performed
his stuff for us.

I thought he had talent.

I thought his songs
were viable.

It was more of a
singer-songwriter presentation.

Naming the band
The Milky Way,

the following day they played

their one and only public
performance -

an audition
for the Saturday night slot

at the local live bar,
the Topanga Corral.

We all met down there

and loaded up
into a couple of cars

and drove on up to the Corral,

which at that time was a country
and western beer bar

higher up in the canyon.

But we were probably
one of the first hippy bands

to try to play there.

And this was
in the afternoon

and there was a couple of guys
sitting around,

and they were
not very nice about it.

They said... no.

Manson's only
ever band was stillborn,

and he refocused on his work
as a solo artist.

Despite its failure,
the project had brought him

into contact with another
confident young musician.

Bobby Beausoleil, who
bragged about his affiliations

to the band Love

and his late night jam sessions
with Frank Zappa,

would become a sporadic presence
around the family

over the coming two years.

He was
more talented than Charlie.

Everybody who saw
the two of them together

would agree, but
Beausoleil as a creative artist

certainly saw
there was a lot of creativity

in Charlie Manson

and there was a certain bond
that was formed between them.

They shared a musical symmetry.

They had a similar outlook.

They complemented
each other quite well.

But Bobby Beausoleil
was a strong male.

He had his own
independent mind.

That's not something
that really fitted in

with Manson's Family.

So while they walked
similar paths,

Beausoleil was never
a member of the Manson family.

But he was well connected.

As Manson was looking to move on
from the Spiral Staircase,

Beausoleil suggested
the family head north

into Topanga Canyon,

and move into
an empty property

where he had been staying
in Horseshoe Drive.

Here, in March 1968, the family
were joined by Phil Kaufman,

Manson's fellow inmate
at Terminal Island,

who was a free man once again.

When I got out in 1968,

Gary Stromberg knew another guy
I knew, Harold True.

Harold had been in contact
with Charlie.

So when I got out,
Harold took me to Charlie.

When I first met him...

That wasn't the guy
I knew in the yard

singing
"The Shadow of Your Smile".

As impressed as he was

by Manson's
harem of women,

Kaufman
was also amazed

at the transformation
in his music.

And in the compositions
themselves,

he could see how these
new songs Charlie was writing

were being used
to seduce more followers...

He had a message.

They got a meaning,
kind of a pied piper meaning.

Charlie went from Frankie Lane
to kind of an acid music.

He was using it.

It was a tool, because
young people younger than him,

everybody was
younger than him,

were into the new music
so he put his lyrics

to kind of a folky type
because he didn't have a band.

And "Look at Your Game Girl"
was the thing...

"Look at your game girl,
come with me."

* There's a time for living
The time keeps on flying

* Think you're loving baby...

"Look at Your
Game Girl" is the most complex

of all of Manson's
songs of that period.

It's multi-layered,
it harmonizes with his guitar.

It has different tempos.

His voice range
is considerable on them.

So it's a very...
It's hard to say,

given what we know
about Manson,

but it's a very well-crafted
piece of work.

Are those feelings real

* Look at your game, girl

* Look at your game, girl

* What a mad delusion...

He was selling something.

He was selling him.

And they bought it.
These girls were lost.

These children were lost.

And the hippy thing, peace
and love, that was his bait.

But the atmosphere
in Topanga wasn't sinister.

Peace and love reigned,
and the family was beginning

to experience
Manson's conception

of a communal life
free from material concerns.

With more new members
joining the fold,

he taught them
how to live modestly,

feeding themselves
by visiting garbage dumps.

Times were good,
and these collective activities

would find their way
into the songs themselves.

You're not poor,
you have a garbage tent.

You'll never starve, as long
as you have a garbage dump.

You buy a piece of cheese.

It's dated today.
You can't sell it tomorrow.

There's nothing wrong with it.

You can take it home
and put it in the fridge.

And that's what Manson or I did.

I was with him.

You know,
at first it was like, eugh!

'Cause some of the dumpsters
were, you know, stinky.

They don't get cleaned,

they don't get hosed down
on a regular basis.

But, you know, there was
lots of cardboard in there.

There was also food.

I mean, you know, some
of them, you know...

You'd learn when
they threw the food out,

you know, what time.

And so some of the stuff
was still cold.

We were eating
America's garbage, if you will.

* When you're livin' on the road

* And you think
sometimes you're starvin'

* Get on off that trip my friend

* Just get in them cans
and start carvin'

* Oh garbage dump
my garbage dump

* Why are you called
my garbage dump...

If you want
to see what Charlie Manson

would have wanted
the world to see himself as,

this is the image.

Not the image of some monster

who could make mindless robots
go out and kill

but as a wonderful being

who could exist on practically
nothing and be richer

than all the people
who had all the things

that might otherwise
look down on him.

But although the atmosphere

within the group
was tranquil,

for Phil Kaufman,
Manson's constant sermonizing

was becoming intolerable.

I got old, you
know, I got old and I got wiser.

And fortunately
I got really wised up

and I saw the handwriting
on the cell block.

It was time
to get out of there

and divorce myself from him.

The day I left a friend of mine
came and picked me up

and he said,

"I got to come, Charlie."
He said, "Yeah, I know.

" You're still thinking,
aren't you?"

I said, "Yeah,
I'm gonna keep it up."

Sermons and communal activities

may have filled their time,

but Manson was also keen
to make musical contacts.

While he attempted
to rub shoulders

with the rock community

living in
and around Topanga Canyon,

he also sent his followers
to the Sunset Strip.

Here they were
to attract the attention

of any musicians
they may come across

and effect
an introduction to Manson.

And in May, 1968,
two of the girls hit pay dirt.

That was Jo
Bailey, who was known as Yeller,

and Pat Krenwinkel,
walking down the road

in Hollywood hitching.

A car stops to pick them up.
A young good-looking guy says,

"Hey, do you girls need a ride?"

He suggests they go back to
his place for milk and cookies.

They think they know exactly
what that means,

so when they get back
to his house,

which is really
a spectacular place,

just off the Sunset,

he really does offer
them milk and cookies.

And after a while,
he says he's got to go,

he hopes he sees
them again sometime.

He's in a band
called The Beach Boys.

They dutifully go back and...

Charlie's asking,
"Did you meet anybody?"

"Well, there's this one guy
who picked us up

"and took us back to his house,
you know..."

"What band was he is?"
"The Beach... Boys."

And Charlie... that's it.

He is jumping
out of his clothes.

"Where's this guy's house?"

The Beach Boy

they had unwittingly
stumbled upon

was Dennis Wilson, the drummer
and younger brother

of the band's celebrated
producer and songwriter Brian.

That night, Manson
and his entire family set off

for Wilson's property
on Sunset Boulevard,

keen to make a real impression.

Dennis Wilson
in the middle of the night,

coming back home,
pulls into his driveway

and the lights are on
in his house.

And there's a school bus
parked there.

There's people in his house.

He gets out of his car
and he's going in carefully

'cause he's a rich guy.

You never know
what's gonna be there.

And out comes this little
short dude with a beard,

"Hey man. How are you?"
acting like a host.

And the first words
out of Dennis' mouth are,

"Are you gonna hurt me"

And Charlie Manson
kneels down

and he kisses
Dennis Wilson's foot.

"Do I seem like somebody
who's gonna hurt you, man?

"Come on in." And Dennis goes
in and they're in his house.

It's the Manson Family
making themselves at home.

With half-naked girls
sprawled around his house,

Dennis Wilson
was instantly enchanted

by Manson and his followers.

Of all The Beach Boys,
they had unwittingly met

the one who would be
most open to their charms.

Dennis Wilson
was 100% different

from the rest of the band
in one important way.

He was the athlete.

He was the guy
who went out and surfed,

and of course
the girls liked him the most.

He was, you know,
very ruggedly handsome

and he had a way with women.

The other guys were like,
Brian is sort of tall and goggy,

and Carl's like chubby
and taking guitar lessons,

and Al's gonna be a dentist,

and Mike's working
at a gas station.

He's sort of like
the jerk lead singer.

Dennis Wilson embodied
what The Beach Boys were about.

Their first songs
were about surfing and cars.

Brian Wilson was writing songs
about Dennis' life.

And the Family
had burst into Wilson's life

at a perfect juncture.

In the past year
The Beach Boys had suffered

a series of commercial
disappointments,

with their genius Brian Wilson

losing artistic control
of the band

and mentally struggling

following his prolonged use
of LSD.

Trying to refresh their tired
image in the new, hip world,

in the weeks before
the Manson Family arrived

Dennis had been
on the road for a tour

that paired the band
with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.

This prominent Indian guru had
been elevated to superstardom

following his involvement
with The Beatles,

yet the combination
of his speeches

on Transcendental Meditation

with a rock and roll show

unsurprisingly failed
to make any impact.

It was a disaster.

The people that want
to see The Beach Boys

don't want to see Maharishi,

and the people
who want to see Maharishi

don't want to see
The Beach Boys.

It didn't work.

Interesting idea,
but it was a failure.

'68 was a rough year for them

The Maharishi tour
was a disaster.

They had problems

with the southern element
of their tour

because of Martin Luther
King's assassination.

They were losing money,
they were hemorrhaging money.

Records weren't selling.

They really weren't catching up
with people culturally.

They were still wearing
matching outfits on stage.

So by 1968,

The Beach Boys were perceived
as part of the past.

Dennis wasn't interested

in being part of the past.

A young man
ever alive to new ideas,

he had been fascinated
by the Maharishi's teachings

and was looking for
greater meaning in his life.

Manson's sermons
denouncing material possessions

and celebrating communal
and spiritual unity,

along with the sexual allure
of the girls,

won him over immediately,

and he invited them all
to join him

at his 14400,
Sunset Boulevard home.

Dennis was a fun guy.

I remember him
being kind of a wild man,

he liked... loved
fast cars, fast women.

He liked living
in the fast lane.

Dennis had just come off
of retreat or something

with the Maharishi yogi
so I think he...

And Charlie kind of fit
that guru...

I think that Dennis was looking
for this kind of inspiration.

Dennis was
always looking for more.

He was always looking
for the next thing,

and he was like a child in
that way.

And I think that these
people really interested him.

Part of the thing for Dennis
at that time

was that he harbored a certain
guilt for all that he had,

for all the wealth and trappings
that came with it.

I don't think he ever felt
like he deserved it.

I think he felt like he got
all of this

basically because
of his brother.

And all of this stuff
just came to him,

not by his own hard work
or not by his own talent,

but just by luck.

Wilson had only moved

into his sprawling, rented
property on Sunset Boulevard

recently following the breakdown
of his first marriage.

With Manson
and his wandering harem

now permanent house guests,

he contacted his close friend
and collaborator Gregg Jakobson

and invited him to the party...

My first exposure to the wizard,

as Dennis would call him,
was he called me up one night,

"Gregg, you have
to come down here.

"You've got to see this guy.
He's the wizard

"and he's got all these girls."

For me it was,
"OK, Den, I've heard it before.

"Girls and a party. I'm married.
I've got a couple of kids."

So I never responded
until it was sometime,

maybe a week later
when they were much more

part of the whole scene
down there at the house.

I must say this. When Charlie
was around, he had an energy.

You couldn't not
pay attention to Charlie.

He was a likeable person.

He was very charming
and he paid attention to you.

I can understand why Dennis
called him 'The Wizard'

because he did have
that unique ability

to make you feel like
you were... he was concerned.

You were important.
He didn't just shine you on.

Just living
on that estate was magical.

I remember getting high

and drinking like
orange juice or grape juice

that was just, uh... heavenly.

Don't forget,
Dennis had left his house

and his family
and his wife and stuff.

Now he had all this adoration
and all these girls.

They were making him clothes

and they almost
would bow down to him.

So I'm sure
for the moment

he was very charmed
by the whole scene.

But it wasn't
all about sex, drugs

and expanded consciousness -

Wilson was also fascinated
by Manson's music.

And with his older brother Brian
withdrawing from his role

as The Beach Boys' driving
force, the other band members

were keen to find their
own voice within the group,

none more so than Dennis.

At the time
he was developing his skills

on the keyboard.

He would come in in the morning
and practice and work things out

and sometimes Brian
would help and show him things,

but most of the time
he was experimenting on his own.

So he was different
from the other guys

who were familiar
with chords and transitions

and that kind of thing.

But he was extremely talented,
he was a fast learner.

1968 was the first time

he was even being looked at

as something serious musically

and Brian
was allowing the others

to show what they had.

And Dennis was showing
the knack for writing songs.

He's a novice but it's obvious
that there's something there.

The Beach Boys
had also recently

set up
their own record label,

Brother Records, with
an eye to signing new talent

that would
better reflect the times

than their own stale act.

Impressed by
Manson's musical talents,

Wilson hoped to both learn from

and collaborate
with his new houseguest.

It was probably the first time

that Dennis got interested
in somebody

and the music at the same time,

almost like a producer
would start considering

how you deal with an artist

and I think that was
where Dennis was coming from

and he realized
that he really had something

that he could bring
to the table.

And so he became musically
Charlie's mentor, let's say.

Primarily, the relationship

that bound them together
was music.

What I remember is that
he was truly fond of Charlie.

I mean, he introduced Charlie
to his friends.

Charlie was teaching him
how to play the guitar

and he, you know, it was kind
of a mutual admiration...

bromance or whatever.
That's what I remember seeing,

is that I think
they genuinely liked each other.

It must have been
a bit of a vindication

for Manson to be taken
seriously by somebody

as well-known as Dennis.

Even though Dennis
hadn't really developed himself

as an artist yet,
Dennis was a superstar.

Suddenly, you were collaborating
with someone

who was very well-known

and comes from a family

that is hugely respected
in the industry.

Along with Gregg Jakobson,

Wilson was also keen
to introduce

his dynamic new house guest
and collaborator

to another friend,
record producer Terry Melcher.

The son of Doris Day

and the partner of rising star
Candice Bergen,

with his prominent role
in the LA music scene

Melcher was a vital link between
Hollywood past and present.

Terry Melcher was somebody

who was very much part

of the Hollywood
entertainment scene

and, you know, he produced
the first two Byrds' albums,

which are hugely important.

He was very involved
with Paul Revere & The Raiders,

who were big hit makers
at the time.

I mean, everybody knew
who Terry Melcher was.

And so to get his blessing
or to summon his interest

would have been a big get
for any aspiring songwriter.

Over the coming months,

Manson became close enough
to Melcher

that he was invited
to the Beverley Hills property

the producer rented
in Cielo Drive.

Although Melcher and Jakobson
were his most frequent visitors,

Dennis Wilson's home
was a popular hangout

for many prominent musicians.

Dennis' house
was a gathering point.

Being very liberal,
and people sort of felt welcome

and could drop in
at all hours,

so many people
called in on Dennis,

and obviously collided
with the Manson Family.

The likes of Stephen Stills,
Glenn Campbell.

Neil Diamond was another.

Neil Young, freshly released
from Buffalo Springfield,

came across Manson
and he was blown away

by Manson's musical playing.

If reports are to be believed,

he was enchanted with Manson.

He bought him a motorcycle.

Took him along to meet Warners,

who if accounts
are to be believed,

wasn't that impressed.

So I think Manson's personable
presence enchanted people.

The problem with Manson is

once you bounce that down
onto tape it loses everything.

So what you're left
with is some songs.

You don't have
Manson the character,

you don't have Manson,
the girls...

What enchanted people
was the package.

Now an accepted figure

within the upper echelons
of the LA counterculture,

Manson's presence at parties
and clubs became common.

And in the very nerve center
of the scene,

on the Sunset Strip

and its premiere venue
the Whisky A-Go-Go,

he made
an indelible impression...

There was
an incident at the Whisky.

One night we were all there
at the table.

Charlie had come with us.
Dennis was there.

Terry Melcher was there.
So we were all there,

drinking beer
and having a good time.

And we noticed
a bit of a commotion

coming from the dance floor.
And the Whisky's packed.

The girls were up in the cages

at the time at the Whisky
and the band is playing full on.

The band's really into it
because something's going on.

I stood up on the chair.

I stood up in the back
of the booth and I said,

"Hey you guys,
you've got to see this."

It was Charlie in the middle
of the dance floor dancing

and he'd literally cleared
the dance floor at the Whisky.

I mean, people slowly pulled
back until...

And I swear to God to this day

it looked like electricity
was coming out of him.

I mean, that kind of energy

and he literally blew
everybody away

on the dance floor by himself.

Nobody could even come close
to dancing with him.

But that was Charlie.

He had that
explosiveness, that energy.

Although he was
making his mark on the scene,

by the late summer
Manson and his Family

had outstayed their welcome
at Dennis Wilson's house.

In August The Beach Boys
were embarking

on an extensive tour
of the U.S. and Canada

to promote their latest album,

and Wilson decided
this would be the perfect time

for his houseguests
to move on.

The party had to end sometime

and it was costing Dennis
a fortune

and if all the accounts
are to be believed

it was $100,000 in food,
gonorrhea treatment,

lost clothing everything.
They were bleeding him dry.

I was told
by Dennis' PA man.

"I'm going on the road.
Can you... find us a new place?"

He says, "I want my stuff
out of there."

Charlie didn't have much choice.
The house got closed down.

I closed it down
while Dennis was gone.

He came back
a couple of weeks later

to a new house.

Their friendship and
musical collaboration continued,

and Manson used the opportunity
to relocate his growing Family

to a more isolated venue.

Spahn Ranch,
30 miles north

of Dennis' Santa Monica home,

was a once
a thriving movie location

during the heyday of Western
films the previous decade.

Now largely inactive, it proved
perfect for Manson's needs.

Cult leaders
can always be identified

by a couple of things they do
and Manson did them all.

The first thing is that
you have to find people

who feel put upon,
persecuted and convince them

that you know the way
to protect them but only you.

The second thing you try to do
is isolate them.

You've got to get them
away from outside voices.

Families, friends, media.
Anybody who would say,

"Wait a minute,
this guy's a crackpot."

You want to get to a point

where the only voice
they hear is yours.

That's not going to work
at Dennis Wilson's house.

Spahn Ranch,
just outside of Los Angeles,

and if you hear
the distance involved,

it's not that many miles.

You think,
"It's going to be smog

"and more of these buildings."

But it's actual sort
of this natural area

that seems like
it's the frontier.

It's the country.

It's as far removed from
a big city as you can imagine.

And yet it's only
about a 25 minute drive.

Charlie still can reach
Los Angeles

but he can isolate
his followers.

At Spahn Ranch the family became

a commune once again,

and its reputation grew
around Los Angeles.

New followers found their way
to this rustic idyll,

along with members
of biker gangs

the Straight Satans
and the Satan's Slaves

and figures
from the music world.

The Manson
Family's presence at Spahn Ranch

was like a psychedelic
little house on the prairie.

I mean, it was just
a lovely throwback.

These guys were
on an old film set.

They were dressing up
in costumes.

It was
a happy-go-lucky scene.

It was free love,
free drugs,

music, free food
from the dumpster

and famous people
were dropping in, yeah.

Dennis Wilson was there.

He took the girls
on a garbage dump truck.

It's said Jim Morrison
went there.

Whenever Terry and I showed up

or Dennis and I showed up
out at the ranch,

he would definitely
have everything set up.

When we were there,
everybody was on alert

and we were supposed
to be entertained.

I said, "Terry, we should...
this should be filmed.

"We ought to film this thing.
This is history.

"This is really unusual."

I mean, you have the girls.
You have the horses.

You have some cowboys.
You have the hippies.

You have the motorcycle gang

and you have
this big movie ranch.

You couldn't
make that kind of stuff up.

I thought, "Terry,
we should be filming this."

And while
the Family were acclimatizing

to this new rural life,

Dennis Wilson announced
that The Beach Boys had agreed

to record one of the songs
that he and Manson

had been working on
earlier in the summer.

This track, "Cease to Exist",
perfectly captured

the cult leader's
spiritual outlook.

* Cease to exist

* Just, come an' say you love me

* Give up, your world

* Come on you can be

* I'm your kind...

It was
more Charlie's composition

than Dennis'.

Charlie would really come
from a different place.

Charlie was
much more philosophic,

kind of
an Eastern philosophy,

and Dennis was fascinated
with that to some degree.

He could smell
that there was something there

but didn't know what it was.
So he went along with that.

He liked that.
That was something new.

The Beach Boys weren't writing
about that kind of stuff either.

They were still doing
surf songs

and "Good Vibrations"
and so on which was all cool.

But this was a big departure

and it was very much
the '60s, you know.

This was new.

But as the band went
into Brian Wilson's home studio

to record the track
in September 1968,

they shaped the song
into their own creation,

and its name was altered
to "Never Learn Not to Love".

Stephen Desper,
the band's in-house engineer,

oversaw the sessions.

We were all aware

that Dennis had a friend
named Charles Manson

and the two of them
were both musicians.

And as musicians do,
they compare notes.

They write things together.

This was a collaboration

and Charles and Dennis
had worked on it together.

It may have been
the initial idea

may have been Charles',

but he had given it to Dennis
and been compensated for it.

And... The Beach Boys
were taking it

and embellishing it as they do
and making it their own.

* ...ooo I love you
pretty girl

* My life is yours,
and you can have my world

* I'm your kind, I'm your kind,
and I see

* Never had a lesson
I ever learned

* I know I could never learn
not to love you...

Dennis,
who knew his way around a studio

and knew his way
around vocal arrangements,

took that idea
and expanded it

into something that was...
more palatable,

that was pop.

And again for The Beach Boys,

it was pushing
their sound forward.

* Come in now closer

* Come in closer
come in closer ahhhh...

I think it's a really good song.

I think it's better actually
than it gets credit for.

The harmonies are just
gorgeous on that song.

I think that the collaboration
between Dennis and Manson

really showed potential

with this "Never Learn
Not to Love" song.

I think it definitely works.

I think it's a win
for The Beach Boys.

And I think an album
full of that kind of sound

would have been amazing
for them at the time.

Yet it was not to be.

While the recording should have
provided the Family

with new hope,
back at Spahn Ranch

the atmosphere was changing,

and Manson's commune
was losing its focus.

Things were
getting a little bit rougher,

everybody I think
started pulling away,

because more and more
we were hearing stories

that The Satan Slaves
were now hanging out there.

The picture was...
the flower part was going away.

It wasn't flowers
and beads anymore.

It was motorcycles
and gasoline

and harder core drugs and people
coming from downtown LA

that nobody knew.
And winter was coming.

It was kind of like the summer
was... the season was closing.

It was getting darker earlier
and so on.

And this reflected
a darkness

that had been spreading
throughout the counterculture

during 1968.

The Summer of Love
was now a distant memory,

the Vietnam War
continued to escalate,

and following the assassinations
of first Martin Luther King

and then Robert Kennedy,

the younger generation's faith

in conventional political change
was crushed.

Across the nation,

the counterculture
took up arms

and prepared
for battle with the authorities,

with violent clashes
breaking out in several cities.

At the same time,

the peaceful
civil rights movement

was also transforming,

and as riots erupted
following King's assassination,

Black Power
became a new slogan

for numerous groups

looking to confront
their white oppressors.

And all of these currents
fed directly

into the mind of Charles Manson.

Now his sermons altered,

and his spiritual vision
of a communal society

was replaced by predictions
of a coming apocalypse -

a violent uprising
in which African Americans

would overthrow
the existing order.

The ideas

that Manson was playing around
with, race war, revolution,

the sense that everything
was falling apart.

I mean, these were
commonly thought ideas.

Even at the point that Martin
Luther King was assassinated,

he had been outflanked
on his left

by more militant
black political figures.

So once he was
shot and killed,

there was the message of

you see where
non-violence gets you?

The idea that the structure
was under assault,

couple that
with the complicated,

to say the very least,

racial history
of the United States,

the sense that these forces
were potentially in charge

of a takeover -

yeah, that again
was something

that was very much in the air.

But Manson
took these common beliefs

and warped them
into a very singular vision.

In September, aware that
his control over his followers

was slipping at
the overpopulated Spahn Ranch,

he scouted a new location
for their commune

deep in the heart
of Death Valley.

200 miles north of Los Angeles,

Barker Ranch
offered total isolation,

and he fed this
into his prediction

of the coming revolution.

When the black population
rose up

to overthrow
the white authorities,

their commune would be hidden

in this remote desert retreat,
and when the dust settled

they would emerge to rule
over a brave new world.

Times were different.

It wasn't the same
loving... commune

kind of enlightenment
thing anymore.

There was an agenda.

He'd always been
kind of fostering

and laying
some ground work

for this race war.

I think he truly believed
that this was going to happen

and so he was always
kind of preparing us.

But the whole impetus
was to make money...

...to get dune buggies
and knives and guns or whatever

and hide out in the desert
until this war thing was over.

And just as music
seemed to have receded

into the background

of the Family's
day-to-day existence,

a record was released that
shook Manson to his very core.

Having sent a number of
his followers to Death Valley

to prepare their new
accommodation in the desert,

he and the remaining
family members

moved into a house
on Gresham Street

in the northern part
of Los Angeles.

It was here that he first
heard the Beatles' new LP,

commonly known
as The White Album.

Through a number of its songs,

somehow The Beatles
were sending a message

directly to Manson himself,

confirming his prophesies
of a violent race war.

When I came back

from the desert
to Gresham Street

and there was all this
frenetic energy and a lot of it

had to do with the fact
that Charlie felt like

The Beatles,
through the White Album,

were telling him

that this black/white race war
was helter-skelter.

It's coming down fast,
you know,

and he would play it
backwards.

He was obsessed

and I remember
he made me stay and listen

and pee my pants
on the rug

because he wouldn't let me
leave to go to the bathroom.

"No, you have to you stay here.
I want you to hear this."

* Have you seen
the little piggies

* Crawling in the dirt

* And for all the little piggies
Life is getting worse...

"Piggies" was one
of the first he talked about,

written by George Harrison.
And George later said

his mother actually suggested
some of the lyrics

that Charlie thought
The Beatles were proclaiming

about how there were
certain people

that needed to be punished.

What they need
is a damn good whacking.

* In their eyes
there's something lacking

* What they need's
a damn good whacking...

Harrison was just doing a dig

at the upper classes etc, etc.

But of course Manson saw it
as a call to arms.

What they need
is a damn good whacking.

"Piggies" is certainly
a violent song

and the word 'pig'
would play an important part

in the Manson Family's
infamy later on.

* Blackbird singing
in the dead of night

* Take these broken wings
and learn to fly

* All your life

* You were only waiting
for this moment to arise...

The song "Blackbird",

Charlie led his followers
to believe

was particularly significant.

That although black people
in Charlie's view

were very inferior,
they had been enslaved,

they had been mistreated
for so long

and now The Beatles were saying
they were going to rise up.

You were only waiting
for your moment to arise.

And then there's
the real hook. Helter Skelter.

In Britain, people would realize
Paul McCartney is talking about

an amusement park ride.

But in America, nobody knew
what a helter skelter was,

and Charlie took advantage
of that.

* When I get to the bottom

* I go back to the top
of the slide

* Where I stop and I turn
and I go for a ride

* Till I get to the bottom
and I see you again...

When you get to the bottom

you go back to the top -
that's the blacks.

They're at the bottom,
they're going to go to the top.

Helter Skelter is the name
The Beatles have given

to the race war
that's coming.

* Helter skelter, helter skelter
Helter skelter...

Charlie bought into that

because it's coming
from The Beatles.

This fit Charlie's predictions.
That that was coming,

that war, that black/white war
was coming.

Life within
the Family radically shifted

in the early months of 1969.

For their exodus to the desert,

they would need vehicles,
gasoline and weaponry,

and Manson returned
to his criminal ways

to fund these new activities.

But the musical dream
was far from over.

In March,
Dennis Wilson reappeared

with the offer
of a demo session for Manson.

The results would be presented
to The Beach Boys themselves

to see whether they would
sign him to their new label,

Brother Records.

The recording would take place
at Brian Wilson's home studio,

with the band's engineer
Stephen Desper

in charge of the session.

Someone
knocked on the studio door

and says your talent is here.

So I met him
at the front door.

It was Charles
and he had with him five girls.

He got his guitar out
and he had talent.

I could see why Dennis
wanted to do a demo with him

and consider him as a talent
they would sign and produce.

It was the producing part
that bothered me.

Once he got
in front of the microphone

and into
the recording environment

he was not like other people.

It was all very foreign
to him

and he was annoyed
by the whole thing.

And I just wasn't
feeling comfortable

about being around him.

Charlie had
his way of doing things.

He knew best.

Being a rock star,
a famous rock star

was not his highest priority,

because if it was
his highest priority,

oh, to meet The Beach Boys,

to record in their studio...

Yeah, what do you
want me to wear,

how would you like my hair,
you know. Right?

After the first song,

he came up
in the control room

and we made a playback.

In the course of the playback

he pulled out
a 6 inch switchblade

and started cleaning
his fingernails. I said to him,

"Charlie, take the knife
out of the studio."

The reason for that was
because it was Brian's house

and he has family there,
he has little girls upstairs.

I don't know what
this guy is... you know.

He called one of the girls
and they took the knife

out to the car,
and then I had to go out

and get him back
in the studio,

make sure they weren't
wandering round the house

and all that.

But he liked what he had done,
he was satisfied with it.

I guess he was there
about three or four hours

pretty well into the evening.

Despite Manson's satisfaction

with his performance,

he had failed
to win over Stephen Desper,

whose job it was
to report back to the band

and their management.

I took the tapes to the office.

They asked me how it went
and I said,

"He won't take direction,

"and I don't think
he's going to be producable.

"But his songs
are fairly good.

"I like the lyrics,"
and so forth.

And, you know, take a listen.

Brother Records
were not interested,

and although this news never fed
directly to Charles Manson,

he assumed
from their silence

that he was not going
to be part of their roster.

His attentions then turned
to Terry Melcher, the producer,

who he had been socializing with
since the previous year

and who was still an infrequent
visitor to Spahn Ranch.

Charlie figures out,

when Dennis Wilson
can't get him a record deal,

that, "Wait a minute,
I miscalculated."

The artists aren't high enough
on the food chain themselves.

And now he's got
a different target in mind.

That target is Terry Melcher.

You have to remember

that Manson has been trying
to get Melcher

to listen to him
for over a year.

And he's getting put off
and he's getting put off.

And finally Melcher said,

"I will come out
to Spahn Ranch.

"I will listen to you."

He said, "Set the time
and the date."

It raised everybody's hopes

that we were going
to make a record,

and earn some money.

And really at that point

the money was to go
for gas and vehicles

and food and supplies...
for the desert.

Terry Melcher
has other things

going on in his life.
His mother's estate

There's problems going on,
and he doesn't go.

To him, "Well, so what,

"I'll just call the guy up
at some point and say,

"'Hey, sorry
I couldn't make it last time.'"

To Manson it's not
only a personal betrayal...

but it threatens his hold on
his followers and he's furious.

And he goes looking for
Terry Melcher.

The first place he goes looking
for Terry Melcher

is where he knew Terry Melcher
lived, Cielo Drive,

but Melcher's moved.

He and Candice Bergen
have gone to a place

on the beach,
a property that Doris Day owned.

And now
there's new folks renting.

Roman Polanski
and Sharon Tate.

Polanski and Tate

were one of LA's
most glamorous couples,

representative
of a new Hollywood

that was embracing
the counterculture.

Polanski's European films
earlier in the decade

had brought him
to international attention,

and it was while working
on the last of these,

"The Fearless Vampire Killers",

that he cast and fell in love
with Sharon Tate,

the lead actress.

Close friends of Terry Melcher
and Candice Bergen,

the couple had moved
into the house on Cielo Drive

in March 1969.

It was at the end of that month
that Charles Manson

came walking
furiously up the driveway

looking for Melcher.

Sharon Tate
has a photographer,

her personal photographer
who happens to be out there.

And the guy sees
storming up the drive

this little scrubby looking guy

looking kind of furious,
"What do you want?"

And for Terry Melcher,
this is the Polanski residence.

You're in the wrong place.
The owner lives out back.

Manson says, "I'll go see him."

"Stay off the lawn,
stay away from the main house."

He storms up and the guy
who owns the property says,

"Oh, he's moved. I don't want
you coming around again

"without telling people
you're on your way."

Manson is storming off,
and as he's storming off

a beautiful woman walks out
of the main house

and he looks at her
for a minute,

then he storms away.

Charlie Manson and Sharon Tate
did look each other

in the eye very briefly.

When he was finally
able to locate Terry Melcher,

Manson rearranged their meeting,

and on June 6th, 1969,

the producer travelled
to Spahn Ranch

to watch the 34 year old
ex-convict

perform an elaborate set.

It would take weeks
before Manson was able

to draw a response from Melcher

as to whether
he would be recommending him

to Columbia Records.

And it was not the response
that he was hoping for...

Terry finally told Charlie.

He said, "Hey Charlie,
I really appreciate your music.

"It's really good,
but it's just not my cup of tea.

"I don't know what I would do
with you in the studio."

Charlie was heartbroken.
He was crushed with that.

Charlie was
really counting on it

and I think that he had
his hopes up...

I think they encouraged it.

They should have been
a bit more upfront,

in the beginning.

But maybe they saw
something in him.

And I think Dennis did.

That was a karate chop

to the neck for him,

because I know
he was really thinking that

he had it real in there.
Terry was a record producer.

This is what
a recording artist needs

and a record producer
with a track record

and a carte blanche
to a big studio.

Yeah, that's everything,
if you're Charlie at that point.

So, yeah, that was crushing.

I'm sure that
was crushing to Charlie.

The events
that tragically followed

were fueled by this rejection
and the desperation

that was setting in through
the Family's chaotic activities.

And as had been the case
in his youth,

Manson proved
a hopeless criminal.

At this same time
Charlie's been warning

about Helter Skelter

and we've got to get back
to the desert.

Nobody here's getting money.

To buy the supplies they need
is by doing drug deals.

And among the people
he's doing deals with

there's a music teacher
named Gary Hinman that he knows.

And there's a big black guy
known as Lotsapoppa,

and Lotsapoppa claims
to be a Black Panther.

And Hinman's talking
about going to Europe.

So that means Hinman's
got some money.

With Lotsapoppa,
the drug deal goes wrong,

Charlie with
a Buntline Special 22 pistol

that he brought, shoots him
and thinks he's killed him.

Because he's killed Lotsapoppa,

suddenly becomes convinced
that the Black Panthers

are going to be coming
after Manson and the Family.

And Charlie
may have talked about

a racial apocalypse
and everything else

and was exaggerating,
but Charlie was scared shitless

of the Black Panthers.

That disastrous
drug deal in July 1969,

was followed
by an even worse event

at the close of the month.

The family's sometime cohort
Bobby Beausoleil

was running a drug deal

involving his Topanga
Canyon supplier,

the musician Gary Hinman,

and the motorcycle gang
The Straight Satans

who were frequent guests
at Spahn Ranch.

When the bikers accused
Beausoleil of ripping them off

with inferior product,

he and three members
of the Family

visited Hinman
to get their money back.

But a fight ensued,

the event spiraled
out of control

and after two days
in his apartment,

Bobby Beausoleil
murdered Hinman,

scrawling messages
in the musician's blood

across the apartment walls.

It took the police
only two weeks

to apprehend the murderer.

The death of Gary Hinman,

which involved several members
of the Manson family

and principally
Bobby Beausoleil,

who was not a card carrying
member of the Manson Family

but was certainly closely allied
in many ways,

at this point
also is drug dealing

with the Manson Family.

Ultimately and if who we are
to believe apparently,

but allegedly Manson
had said to Beausoleil,

"You know what to do",
which led to Hinman's death.

Beausoleil
is spinning out of control

is picked up very soon
with blood all over him.

It led back to the murder
and Beausoleil is arrested.

Manson's prison nous
would say,

"Well, you know,
this is gonna come back to me".

He might not have said,
"You know what to do,"

but certainly the strands
are all running back.

The deal was conducted
from Spahn's Ranch,

possibly facilitated by Manson.

It was certainly
all going to lead back to him.

Fearful that
he would be caught up

in the Beausoleil case,
Manson declared

that the time
for 'Helter Skelter' had come,

and sent four of his followers
into the Los Angeles night

to commit a copycat murder,
led by 24 year old Tex Watson.

There were two objectives.

Firstly, that new crimes
would lead the police

to assume that Beausoleil
was innocent

and that the killer
was still on the loose,

and secondly, that the police
would target African Americans

for the murders and thus
set the race war in motion.

And looking
for high profile targets,

Manson sent his hunting party

to Terry Melcher's old residence
on Cielo Drive.

It was location.

He needed to kill
famous people

and try to make it look like
the Panthers had done it

to get the heat off
Bobby Beausoleil.

The place that he
was most familiar with

where rich, famous people
had to live was Cielo.

If somebody lived
where Melcher had lived,

that was somebody important.

The second critical thing
why that location was chosen

Tex Watson besides Charlie
had been to the house in Cielo

and theoretically knew how
to get there from Spahn Ranch.

That's why they picked
that house.

The murders that
occurred on August 8th, 1969,

were amongst the most
brutal crimes of the era,

Sharon Tate
and her three house guests

slain without any remorse.

And the following night,
the killing spree continued,

with wealthy middle-class couple
Rosemary and Leno LaBianca

suffering a similarly
violent demise.

Another savage night of killing

but interestingly,
in terms of the musical aspect,

this is the night
when they decided

to daub "Death to Pigs".

The night before they put "pig"
on the door again

referencing back to The Beatles.

The key motive that night
was "Helter Skelter"

written on the fridge door.

I have my own feelings

that why the killings
stopped at that point,

certainly those
sort of killings,

is that when they went back to
Spahn's Ranch

and Manson would debrief them
of what had gone on.

When he heard
Patricia Krenwinkel

had written "Helter Skelter"

in blood on the fridge door,
he freaked.

Everyone knew about

Manson's 'Helter Skelter'
theories, obsessions.

There was even a nightclub
at Spahn's Ranch

called the Helter Skelter.

So I think that's
when Manson spooked fully

and that's when the move
to Barker Ranch occurred.

But Manson
was still short of cash.

No longer worried
about his relationships

in the music industry,

he decided
he was still owed money

for The Beach Boys' recording
of "Cease to Exist",

whose lyrics Dennis had changed

without even
asking his permission.

He set out across LA
to hunt for the drummer,

and eventually found him
with Gregg Jakobson

and The Beach Boys'
photographer Ed Roach.

It was just after
the Woodstock festival started

so I know it was like
a week or two

after the Cielo Drive episode
and... he, he came in

and he just jumped
into the room

and he looked just like
he looked in the newspapers

where his hair was just like
standing and he jumped in

and he said, "I've just come
from the moon".

I went, "Holy shit, this is
that guy Charlie."

Charlie said, "I need to talk
with you,"

and he took him outside.

Dennis came back in,
walked in, grabbed the guitar

and walked out and came back
in without the guitar

and he said, "I had to give him
all my money and the guitar

"or he said he was gonna
kidnap my son in the morning

"and kill him."

That was...
that was over the song.

It was the end
of the relationship

and the end of Manson's
connections

to the LA music scene.

The following week,
he and his followers jumped

into their dune buggies
and set out on the road,

heading for the desert.

And while the Los Angeles
police force struggled

to make headway
in the investigations

of either the Tate
or LaBianca murders,

in Death Valley
this newly arrived commune

soon sparked the interest
of the local law enforcement.

In October, across two raids,

the police arrested
the Manson Family

having discovered their fleet
of stolen dune buggies.

Charles Manson
and some of the murderers

were taken into custody,
on far less serious charges,

and while waiting
in a detention center,

Family member Susan Atkins,

a participant
in both home invasions,

began bragging about
the murders to a fellow inmate.

It was the lead
the investigation needed.

Connecting the various strands
of the story

and interrogating Manson's
followers,

the LAPD
and the District Attorney

soon were confident
they'd found the murderers.

They called a press conference
on December 1st, 1969,

to announce
that the case was solved.

Charles Manson and his Family
became instantly infamous.

My personal
reaction was disbelief at first

'cause he didn't seem that bad.

He was weird but I didn't
think he was capable.

I didn't think those girls
out there in the studio

were capable of stabbing people.

When I read
about it, I was nervous. What?

I was in shock, you know.
I didn't believe it at first.

The girls... I couldn't believe
how they had changed.

I mean, they went out there
and slaughtered people.

They're not,
"Look at you game girl.

"Give it up. Give
it up all your love."

They went out there
and viciously killed people.

I was at home
and someone called me,

"have you heard
what happened?"

When I was told that,

I thought for a second
and I said, "That's real.

"That really happened."
I wasn't surprised.

It all made sense to me.

It had gotten that far
out of balance,

that far out of control.

Within the music world itself

panic quickly spread.

Although Manson and
the murderers were behind bars,

many of the extended Family
were still free.

Convinced he was the true target
of the attack at Cielo Drive,

Terry Melcher
in particular was anxious,

while those
who had been involved

with Manson in any way

looked to protect
their reputations

and distanced themselves
from the story.

Terry went
and bought a riot gun,

a 12-gauge shotgun
with a sawn off short barrel.

It has like six shells in it.

He literally kept it
by his front door.

They were very concerned.

Dennis a little bit less but
Dennis would more laugh it off

but Terry was yeah...
Oh no, Terry took it seriously.

He didn't know what
those people were capable of

and he wasn't gonna
take a chance.

I got a call
from Beach Boy management.

They told me they were
going to take the tapes

and put them in a safe place.

They wanted to make sure
there were no copies

or anything like that.

Dennis was off
to a non-disclosed area.

Nobody knew really
where he was

but there was a sense
that Dennis was threatened.

It didn't satisfy him
at all that Charlie was in jail.

That he wasn't
in danger anymore.

Dennis' whole
personality changed.

He wasn't at all
the same person.

There was a paranoia
about him.

The fear of... you know,
how close he was to it all...

And as the District
Attorney prosecuting the case,

Vincent Bugliosi,
began to look for witnesses

to call upon during the trial,

he found those close to Manson
in the entertainment world

were unwilling to tarnish their
reputations by taking the stand.

Dennis was not
going to cooperate with Bugliosi

and neither was Terry.

I believe Terry made
a deal with Bugliosi.

What it was I don't know.

Bugliosi wanted
to bring Dennis into court,

I mean, a Beach Boy.

He wanted to bring
Candice Bergen into court,

Terry's girlfriend.

So, I mean, that couldn't happen
in Terry's world.

He did everything possible to...
to stay as far away from it

and Dennis did the same thing.
OK, I was there.

I'll tell you...
So I cooperated.

I wasn't telling
any lies

and I didn't see
anything criminal happen

so I didn't... I wasn't saying,

"Yeah, I saw the gun
or something."

I just told the truth.

Manson, meanwhile,
was trying to keep control

of his followers
from the inside,

and was eager
to generate some income

that would help him do this.

Now that he was on the front
pages across the world,

he decided this was the perfect
time to release a record,

the rock star dream
refusing to die.

Manson felt the tapes

from Brian Wilson's house
were brilliant music.

If this was going to be
his only chance

to get a musical statement
out, he liked that idea.

Also, he had, legal expenses

not just for himself
but for the women in the trial.

He desperately
had to make sure

that they were going
to stay loyal to him.

Their lawyers all wanted
to separate their cases

from Manson
so that they could claim that,

"Oh, the women
were just fooled by this man".

Charlie needed to keep
everybody happy.

Charlie had to get money

and what better way to do it,
he thought,

than finally releasing
this great album of his

that simultaneously
would make him a rock star

and at the same
that covers all the legal fees.

Manson enlisted
Lynette Fromme,

known within the Family
as "Squeaky",

to make this happen.

And although she discovered

that the recordings
from Brian Wilson's studio

were under lock and key,
she convinced Gregg Jakobson

to release tapes from a session
he had arranged

at Sound City Studios
in mid-1968.

She then called
Phil Kaufman to aid her

in the release of the record,

and Kaufman,
who at this time believed

Manson must be innocent,
agreed to help.

Lynette... Squeaky contacted me,

"We've got to get
Charlie's music out,"

'cause somehow he thought
that the album would...

people would hear the music
and would understand

that what he was doing
was valuable.

She got the tape,
and I took it into the studio,

we cleaned it up
and we did the mix down.

I got some people
to chip in some money

to put it out
and we made 300 copies.

It was the "Life" magazine cover

which we dropped the 'f'
out of 'life'

and it became the 'lie'.
It's a lie, he's innocent.

How can you listen
to his music,

how can you charge him
for such a thing.

* Clang bang clang
Went the big iron door

* They put me in a cell
With a concrete floor

* Nine other men
in that cell with me

* Moanin' their fate,
with destiny

* Clang bang clang...

This is...
one of the original albums.

You can tell it's original
by the yellow label.

Anything else is a bootleg.

So he asked me to get
the album and I did.

And to this day
I regretted my association,

but you can't divorce yourself
from the past.

The record,
upon its release,

received none of the success
that Manson felt it deserved,

and even his infamy
failed to shift any copies.

Manson's career
as a musician

I think was of little
consequence to people

looking at the headlines
of at that time.

I think they saw him more

as a cult leader
than a musician,

and when they heard the music,
it's difficult to marry that

to the carnage that went on
and the horror.

So a curio at best,
hugely distasteful,

actually what most
people thought of it.

No record company
would touch it of any note

and it was not going
to get any radio play.

It's just another example

of Manson's innocence
stroke hopelessness

that he'd imagined that
anyone would want to buy it.

As the Manson trial became

an all-consuming media circus,

the counterculture
itself struggled

to deal with this cult leader
and his hippy credentials.

As the crusade against
the ideals of this movement

had been emboldened

first by Californian
Governor Ronald Regan

and then incumbent
President Richard Nixon,

conservative American values
were proving more robust

than the counterculture
had once believed.

While some tried to politicize
the Tate-LaBianca murders

and unwisely held Manson up
as a revolutionary leader,

most simply acknowledged

that these desperate,
shocking acts

had forever tarnished a movement
extolling peace and love.

I don't think
by design Charles Manson arrived

to destroy the hippy dream,
but by God he did,

and people have said that
from the moment in December 1969

that Manson was on the front
of the newspapers,

anyone resembling a hippy
was demonized.

If you were,
somebody on the Right,

who just detested everything

that the counterculture
stood for,

you couldn't have scripted
Charles Manson

and those heinous murders
any better.

It gave the Right
every weapon it could use.

I mean, there was sex, there
was drugs, there was violence.

The Beatles are in there.
You know, all of it. All of it.

It just handed it to the Right.

The part of the human spirit

that is more tolerant and open

and trusting and less fearful

is one
of our super powers really.

But of course
you set yourself up sometimes

and I think that was one
of the real shocks of Manson

that much like
the Hell's Angels at Altamont,

in some cases we made friends
with the wrong people.

For many who
had befriended Charles Manson,

he would remain a permanent
presence in their life.

While he became an exaggerated
villain in popular culture -

a crazed maniac
and psychotic mastermind -

for some drawn
into his musical journey,

he was a real
and complex figure,

and their association with him
left lifelong damage.

Having placed such faith
in the man he called The Wizard,

after the shocking news
of the murders emerged,

Dennis Wilson
was cast adrift.

The once vital soul
of The Beach Boys

was left haunted by a friendship
he could never erase,

and over time he lost himself
in drink and drugs.

He died in 1983,
aged only 39,

and had refused
since Manson's arrest

to ever discuss
the affair in public.

He never brought it up

and I didn't think
it was my place to bring it up.

So Dennis never
spoke about this.

I'm sure he felt responsible
to some extent.

He was highly involved in it,
he was all mixed up in it.

Dennis never
really spoke about the murders.

I mean,
he would reflect sometimes

back on his experiences
with the Family,

but never... I don't know
how much he actually...

You know, I mean,
he really did kind of avoid

the whole massacre
aspect of it.

Dennis never really recovered

from the emotional hit
that he took from it.

Dennis was already
the black sheep of the band

and, you know,
this just basically...

Just as he was starting
to grow out of that

and become something
that people were taking

artistically seriously,
this happened,

and it just basically
stamped him as a loser forever.

I think that he thought
of himself that way.

I think it was battle
for people to convince him

he was more than that.

I just think that
it followed him all the way,

all the way to the end.

I don't think he ever
got over it.