It shouldn't be this easy to get Peter Frampton on the phone, but it is: A publicist for DreamWorks Pictures calls, asks if you're interested in talking to the man, and five days later, he's on the other end of the line at the appointed time. Twenty-four years ago, such things would have been unfathomable: For one brilliant moment, he was the very model of a Rock God--a curly haired totem worshipped only from afar, a man attainable only in record... More >>>