I’m not going to get caught up in some pointless discussion centered around notions of Krautrock. I’ve been gaining interest in a couple of these German bands from the ’70s, but thinking of them as some separate movement solely based on their nationality seems wrong to me, like comparing The Busboys to Chuck Berry and Jimi Hendrix just because they are all black.
Continue reading »
In examining the Stephen Stills confronts a heckler, then his friends love him out of it clip from the Big Sur movie (full clip after the jump) that I think has cleared up a very foggy memory I had of watching this event on the tv the my wood-paneled basement in my childhood home, I kept coming back to the look on this guy’s face:
The poor guy looks like he’s witnessing the complete collapse of the Love Generation. We know that Stills had his friends to love him out of it, but did this guy? Rock Town Hall, I ask you to provide the love this guys needs. Our Concerned Hippie needs you to love him out of it.
The most loving words for our shattered friend will be rewarded with a most-appropriate prize!
Continue reading »
Townsman Dr. John raised a partially fair point in a comment at the tail end of a recent thread:
You know, it sure would be refreshing for someone to critically comment on the Jefferson Airplane or Grateful Dead–without sounding like someone with an irrational fear of hippies.
Although I personally objected to this charge in the thread in which it was made, being a proponent of a large swath of “hippie music,” I do agree that those of us who do not love the Dead or the Airplane too often resort to cheap shots at any given moment. It is fun and easy to do. I think even a fair-minded chap like the Good Doctor could see that. But I believe we can do better, and I believe we can have a dialog without either side resorting to cheap shots or blanket characterizations of anyone with an opposing point of view.
Here’s what I propose we do:
Continue reading »
What would JAMuary be without at least one visit from the “Mother of All Jam Bands,” the Grateful Dead? The legendary “Dark Star” was the opening cut on Live/Dead, the 1969 record of the band at the height of its JAM Powers. And JAM it is, a long, modal, free-form expansion of a 3-minute single into a 23-minute exploration into the outer limits of rock. It is not the most rockin’ of JAMS, but rather a contemplation of subtle interplay, tone, and feedback that you will concede rises far above any charges of mere noodling.
The Grateful Dead, “Dark Star”
Don’t miss Phil’s resonant melodic inventions, Bobby’s light touch on rhythm, and most of all, Jerry’s repeated reinvention of his guitar tone for each of the flowing sections. In fact, anyone with an open mind should agree that it sounds as if “it’s planned out” and not mind it at all.
I’m not such a dogmatic old fart that I can’t occaisonally dig hearing a 3-minute rock ‘n roll chestnut elongated to an epic rock jam of some degree, but the era of Festival Rock coupled with excursions into The Power and Glory of Rock ‘n Roll kicked off a spate of these overblown, drawn-out cover jams. The bombast of The Who‘s version of “Summertime Blues” actually holds up over the course of its extended sections, but the Dead’s epic butchering of “Not Fade Away” and Quicksilver Messenger Service‘s similar drawing and quartering of “Who Do You Love” spring to mind when I think of cover versions of songs that have no business being longer than 3 minutes. The other night a Townsman dropped a jump drive’s worth of hairy rock obscurities on me. I’m just digging into these treats, and I’m trying to determine whether a 6:30 version of “You Can’t Judge a Book By the Cover” by Cactus has any business being committed to wax. It’s sure got the necessary bombast to even make it worth accepting!
While you’re thinking of covers that have no business being more than 3 minutes in length as well as those rare instances that justify the additional jamming, let me know what side of the ledger you place Creedence Clearwater Revival‘s version of “Suzy Q.”
No offense, but does anyone know if a member of Jefferson Airplane was a lapsed fundamentalist of some faith or another? The composition and performance of this song seem to be an attempt at filling some tremendous spiritual void. Please discuss.
So what have we learned? What happened to the dream of the ’60s San Francisco scene?
The burnout was inevitable, but of all rock scenes, who would have thought Haight-Asbury would turn into a bedrock of Winner Rock?
