KAREN: When I first started, I wanted to play the electric guitar. And my dad got me piano lessons instead. He didn’t mean anything by it—he just thought the keys are what girls play.
But it was stuff like that, every time I tried anything.
When I auditioned for the Winters, I had this really great minidress I’d just bought, it was pale blue with a big belt across it. It felt like a lucky dress. Well, the day I tried out, I didn’t wear it. Because I knew they’d see a girl. And I wanted them to see a keyboardist. So I wore jeans and a University of Chicago T-shirt I stole from my brother.
Daisy wasn’t like that. It would never have occurred to Daisy to do that.
DAISY: I wore what I wanted when I wanted. I did what I wanted with who I wanted. And if somebody didn’t like it, screw ’em.
KAREN: You know how every once in a while you’ll meet somebody who seems to be floating through life? Daisy sort of floated through the world, oblivious to the way it really worked.
I suppose I probably should have hated her for it, but I didn’t. I loved her for it. Because it meant she was less inclined to take the shit I’d been taking for years now. And with her around, I didn’t have to take that shit either.
DAISY: Karen was the kind of person who had more talent in her finger than most people have in their whole body and The Six was underutilizing her. She fixed that, though. She fixed that on the next one.
BILLY: When the record was about to be pressed, I said to Teddy, “You made me hate my own song.”
And Teddy said to me, “You’re going to need to work really hard at getting over yourself. Something tells me hitting the top of the charts is going to ease the sting a bit.”
NICK HARRIS (rock critic): On “Honeycomb,” Billy and Daisy and the way they play off each other was the beginning of what worked so well about Daisy Jones & The Six.
The chemistry between their voices—his vulnerability, her fragility—it grabs you and doesn’t let you go. With his voice deep and smooth, and her voice higher and raspier, they somehow still meld together effortlessly, like two voices that have been singing together for ages. They created a deeply heartfelt call and response—a story of this romantic and idealized future that may never come to pass.
The song verges on being a bit saccharine. But the end undercuts the sweetness just enough. It could have been the kind of song teens play at prom. Instead, we have a passionate testament to the fact that things don’t always work out.
SevenEightNine was a good album, in some ways a great album. It was more explicitly romantic than their debut—fewer allusions to sex or drugs. It still rocked, though. It had that driving rhythm section, those piercing riffs.
But “Honeycomb” was the clear standout. “Honeycomb” showed the world that The Six could put out a first-class pop song. It was a pivot, to be sure, but it’s the beginning of their rise to the top.
SevenEightNine was released on June 1, 1976. “Honeycomb” debuted at number 86 but was headed up the charts at a steady clip. The band, playing an unofficial residency of sorts at the Whisky, was gearing up to headline their own national tour.
GRAHAM: We hung out in L.A. for a while, perfecting our set. The songs were coming together onstage. I say that but I guess I don’t mean “Honeycomb.” Billy did a rendition of it without Daisy. He just lifted her half of it and sang it as he originally intended on the album. It was good, but you could feel a hole in it. It was missing something. The rest of the album was playing great, though. We were playing tight, every song, every note. We had it down. We were putting together a great show.
BILLY: We had the same people coming to see us two or three nights a week sometimes. And the crowds were growing the more we played.
ROD: Billy should have invited Daisy to some of those L.A. shows. I told him that. But it was in one ear out the other with him.
SIMONE: Daisy was frustrated they were excluding her. At least I got that impression, when we talked. Which wasn’t as often anymore, with all my touring. But I still made sure I knew what was going on with her. She did the same with me.
KAREN: Daisy knew everybody at the Whisky. She was more connected on the Strip than we were. So it was only a matter of time before she showed up.
DAISY: I wasn’t trying to crash anything. If Billy didn’t want to invite me to sing with them, that was fine. But I wasn’t going to stay away just because they were playing my single without me.
Also, I’d started sleeping with Hank, which wasn’t a great move on my part, but, to be blunt, I was drunk or high a lot of the time back then and it’s a bit hazy. I don’t even think I was attracted to Hank or even liked him all that much. He was a little short, had a square jaw, but he had a nice smile, I guess. Really, he just seemed to be there all the time.
Anyway, Hank and I had been out at the Rainbow and as we were walking, some of his friends were standing outside the Whisky, so we went in.
KAREN: Graham nodded at me and pointed with his eyes to where she was on the floor. And then we saw Billy spot her, too.
EDDIE: The whole time we were playing the Whisky back then, almost every night, Billy’d have some sort of note on how I was playing. He was such a control freak. But Daisy showing up, he couldn’t control that.
And man, she looked good. She had on a tiny little dress. Girls didn’t wear bras back then and it’s a crying shame that ever ended.
BILLY: What was I going to do? Not invite her to sing the song with me while she was standing right there? She forced my hand.
GRAHAM: Billy said, into the mike, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have Daisy Jones here tonight. What do you all say we sing a song called ‘Honeycomb’ for you?”
DAISY: I walked up to the mike as Billy was facing the audience, and I thought, Does Billy Dunne ever wear shirts that aren’t denim?
BILLY: She came on the stage barefoot and I just thought, What is this girl doing? Put some shoes on.
DAISY: The band all kicked in, and I stood at the mike, waiting. The first line is Billy’s so I just watched the people in the crowd as he started singing. I watched the way they watched him. He was a real showman.
I don’t know if he gets enough credit for that. People now talk about how good we were together but I’ve seen Billy when he’s just on his own and that man is talented. He was born to be in front of a crowd.
BILLY: When Daisy’s part came in, I turned and looked at her and watched her sing. We hadn’t rehearsed it, we had never sung together. I was half-expecting it to be a disaster. But after a second or two, I just watched her.
She really did have a dynamite voice. She smiled almost the entire time she was singing. I think you can tell that, when you’re listening. It comes through. That’s something Daisy was great at. You could hear her smile in her words.