The absolutely ultimate, most momentous cultural event in American history, perhaps in the recorded history of the world, was The Woodstock Music & Art Fair. I watched the entire three days recently and how extraordinary and thrilling to see one after another after another after another after another immortal legend storm the stage, meet the moment, and blow the half million seekers away—and it all still holds up with all power and glory today, where no one and nothing in all music can hold a candle to almost any of it.
Astro Man
Anyone who knows anything about this multi-epochal gala of the titans knows that one James Marshall Hendrix not only stole the show, he stole the whole arc of the cultural history of our country when he strutted up to the front of the stage, on the very last smoke-filled morning after all the gnarled and abandoned traffic, all the gate crashes, all the deep food and water needs, all the critical healthcare and human requirements, all the hammering rain, all the mud—three days of peace, love and music like the planet had never seen, with the ghoulish tyrant Richard Nixon in the White House forcing young Americans off to sure slaughter in an insane illegal war of capitalist greed in the dense jungles of Viet Nam—and he plugged in his white Fender Stratocaster and launched into the most astonishing, heartfelt and visionary version of The Star Spangled Banner ever committed to notes and soul then or since or ever will be.
Jimi Hendrix was the all-time Rock & Roll Prometheus, and this was his peak moment, at the penultimate moment of the peak cultural event that ever was.
Volunteers
There was another moment though, that never fails to thrum my heartstrings like a veritable harp of Heaven, which came right up to mind while seeing all the people dancing in the streets in all the cities today while church bells resounded in France and all across Europe.
That was The Jefferson Airplane.
The Airplane along with The Grateful Dead were the only two bands that actually lived the peace, love, generosity and revolutionary ethos of the era in everything they did—not just sing about it and pose for album covers. For all the group’s renown and acclaim, however, I’ve ever-maintained that they’re the most underrated popular musical ensemble. They were so phenomenal, innovative, intense and evolutionary in their creation, and their sound simply throbs, flashes, tastes, tolls and reeks of Freedom.
When I lived in San Francisco, I had a top-floor Victorian, with golden hardwood and kind steam heat, that looked out over the vaunted majesty of Haight Ashbury Panhandle and Buena Vista Park. On sunny spring Saturday mornings I would throw open the bay windows as the fog rolled back to let in that liquid alchemical gold Pacific light, the rich and cleansing presence of Eucalyptus in the air, and blast hefty sides of Airplane on the stereo as I plotted my next moves in poetry, music, basketball or a trek to the ocean through the resplendent guitar solo of nature that is Golden Gate Park.
This blend of earth, air, water, and light out my world lookout with the liftoff music of Jefferson Airplane blaring made anything and everything seem possible, which meant anything and everything was possible.
To this day, I still blast the Airplane on the first magical transformative mornings of early springtime. Indeed, they’ve never really been given their true warrior due.
Morning Maniac Music
Here’s how Jefferson Airplane describe their Woodstock sojourn:
“At the muddy miracle that was Woodstock, the most miraculous performance just might have been Jefferson Airplane’s. The band had been one of the first to sign on for the festival, their imprimatur prompting many other acts to hop on board, and their stature had landed them a coveted headlining slot closing Saturday night’s schedule. But, as the torrential downpours and the unexpected crush of half a million people kept on delaying their set, the chances of putting on anything approaching a quality performance seemed to diminish.
According to Paul Kantner, “We were supposed to go on at 10:30 at night and we’d been up and down about four or five times on acid that night, getting ready to go on, and then everything was delayed for whatever reasons. So, we didn’t get on until like 7:00 the next morning and everybody was pretty much burned out.”
Kantner’s protestations to the contrary, the Airplane (with guest pianist Nicky Hopkins in tow) played a scorching two-hour set that defied the elements and the circumstances. Grace Slick led the charge as the band plunged into a frenetic version of Fred Neil’s “The Other Side of This Life” proclaiming:
“Alright, friends, you have seen the heavy groups. Now you will see morning maniac music. Believe me, yeah. It’s a new dawn!”
Well, as we all know, the days after that new dawn had a whole lot of long cold, dark, bloody nightfall in them, the catastrophically murderous ascension of Tyrannous Nix sadly merely the least of it, but when you watch the video recording of their performance of the incendiary Volunteers you see Grace’s winsome glowing young flowering gorgeous inspiring beauty sing. You listen in your solar plexus with righteous confidence and resolve to Marty’s pleading and plaintive wails for change. All your nerve endings sparkle to experience Jorma Kaukonen’s soaring guitar lines like rockets’ red glare in the Battle For Liberty in The War Against The Imagination that embody the rising apex of the freedom, equality and happiness dreams of millions.
Then there’s the God-given rumbling thunder of maestro bassist extraordinaire Jack Casady and drummer Spencer Dryden, and of course high and mighty founding father Paul Kantner.
Amigos, this is an old time masterclass in what being an American artist ever was and ever could be.
Banner Yet Wave
Hey, yeah, trust me, I know all too damn well that Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are not my people, will never represent me or my interests, and little of lasting substance will change in the term ahead. I know that global warming is an apocalyptic Pandora’s box none of us can handle and as Ken Kesey told me “there will always be more dumb people than smart people.” At the same time though: the knee comes off the neck some now, and more people can breathe—if even only for an hour, a day, a year or four.
What you do with that breath, Brothers & Sisters, is your choice. No one will do it for you. What you do now is all up to you, and you will positively define, defend and oxygenate the heartbeat and the history in the home of the brave through this new, new dawn and the new dawns to be.
❏