I went to a number of rock concerts in the late 60s and early 70’s most of which I don’t remember. But I do remember some.

I went to a Cream concert at Winterland. The stage had Jack Bruce and Eric Clapton in front and the drummer Ginger Baker in the middle, slightly back. Behind them were stacked huge speakers; it seemed to me 10 or 12 feet tall across the stage. It was so loud it was painful to stand anywhere on the main floor in front of the stage. I sought refuge in the balcony looking for a good place to watch the concert. I’m wandering around and I see way up in the back of the balcony level something going on. All I can see is a couple of lights that are bright enough in the darkness of Winterland to blind me so I couldn’t see anything.. I climb up there and there’s a guy sitting behind the table looking at some electronics gear. He nods at me so I stand against the back wall of the Winterland mezzanine next to him and ask him “What are you doing?” Cream is still blasting away and even here it’s still very loud and I have to repeat myself. He’s saying something so I lean in closer and he says he’s monitoring the sound level. He might have said more about why and who for but I don’t remember. So I asked him how loud is it? He looked at the instruments and said (at least I think he said) about 125 decibels. “What does that mean?” I asked. “It’s about as loud as a jet engine taking off.” He shouted. We talked a little more. I think he appreciated the company and liked talking about what he was doing, but conversation was difficult and after awhile I wandered away to find a bathroom.
Jack Bruce and Eric Clapton experienced hearing loss and Clapton had tinnitus to boot. I heard that Ginger Baker had gone deaf.
The dark side of sex, drugs and rock n roll.

Another concert that sticks in my memory is a Jimi Hendrix concert at the Fillmore Auditorium. Don’t ask me why but I tend to wander around at Bill Graham events. So Hendrix is playing and he seems to be having a lot of trouble. I looked for a better vantage point of the mayhem and I spot another table with several people behind it and some monitors. I go up behind it and look at the monitors. I can see Hendrix staggering around on the stage. It’s near the end of his set and he is attempting to destroy his guitar but things aren’t going well. He seems unable to break it into pieces. I look at the monitor again. I ask the guy what’s he doing. He says Graham films and records some of his concerts. That’s a collection I’d like to see. The monitors however give a closer view of what Hendrix is up to. He is now kneeling on the stage. In front of him is his guitar. He’s waving his hands around and I can’t tell what he’s doing. He stops and I see he’s doused his guitar with some kind of liquid and now he’s got some matches. He tries to set his guitar on fire but he can’t get the matches to flame. Apparently he’s too drunk or stoned. To me it is a pitiful scene but the crowd loves it. They are cheering his every staggered step and every attempt to light a match. Fortunately I think one of Bill Graham’s men realizes that a flaming Hendrix might not sit well with the audience so he attends to Jimi, helping him to stand up and leave the stage while Bill Graham comes on stage and tells the crowd “Jimi Hendrix, that’s Jimi Hendrix!” Whew, that part of the show ends safely without loss of life. I don’t remember the other groups that night but Hendrix was sure memorable.

The only other time I remember flames at a Bill Graham concert and I can’t remember his name (Arthur Brown I think, maybe, you can’t expect me to remember everything especially after 50 years) or where I saw it but this guy came on stage with a flaming hat. The flames were several feet high off his head. It was quite striking. I don’t remember a damn thing about his show but his entrance was unequaled in all the concerts I’ve seen.

There were a number of concert halls putting on shows in San Francisco at that time but I only went to the Avalon Ballroom (one time), the Carousel Ballroom (couple of times), the Fillmore Auditorium, Fillmore West (which was the Carousel Ballroom before being taken over by Bill Graham), lots of times, Winterland, many times (more than three), the Cow Palace (once), and the Oakland Coliseum (once). More on what happened at memorable (ones I can remember well) coming up.

I can’t remember who I saw at the Avalon Ballroom, maybe it will come to me later. I do remember seeing the Grateful Dead at the Carousel. I’m not a Dead fan as will soon become apparent.

The only song I thought the Dead did that was any good was Cocaine. At any rate I arrived at the Carousel with high expectations. The place was full. I waited for the time the concert was supposed to start. I watched people in the crowd. A Dead crowd is always entertaining. I watched, then I waited. The crowd waited. Patience is not something you associate with a room packed with stoned hippies (well maybe you do). I paid my money and I wanted the show to get going. Little did I realize this is part of a Grateful Dead’s show. While waiting most of the crowd just smoked more dope and hugged each other. Finally a horde of people came on stage indicating things were about to get started. They weren’t all musicians. There were a lot of people helping the band to get organized to play. Why they couldn’t get set up earlier was a mystery to me. Perhaps the Dead just wanted their audience to appreciate all that was involved with a Dead concert. I wasn’t impressed. Finally the riff raff left the stage ending the preamble. Another gap of time. Even the devotees seemed restless but probably they were just excited with anticipation. They’d been through this before after all they couldn’t remember how many shows they’d been to but it was a lot. Then the lights dimmed and shadows came on stage and picked up their instruments and began to tune them. The Dead concert had begun. But the tuning went on and on. At least that’s what I thought. When are they going to play? I wondered. The 15 or 20 minutes seemed like an hour. Then the crowd went wild. I was uncertain that the set had begun. But the crowd cheered recognizing some old favorite. I couldn’t tell the difference from when they were tuning up or actually playing a Grateful Dead song. Suffice it to say I felt out of place in a room full of abject believers at a holy festival listening to their gods play sacred songs. I was bored. I wanted to go home. Unfortunately I had come with other people (I assume but I don’t remember who I was with) because I suffered through their interminable set wishing I had brought some mind altering chemicals, the use of which was apparently the reason the crowd found the group irresistible.

The next band that comes to mind is Jethro Tull. I saw them at Fillmore West or Winterland. I contrast them to the Dead (and most rock bands) that spend 15 or 20 minutes tuning up before playing a single song.

This is how their concert began.
The group (Jethro Tull) walked on stage, picked up their instruments (except for Ian Anderson who carried his flute as he walked on stage). The instruments were all in hand. A moment of silence. Then Ian Anderson using his flute as a baton waved once to the band then brought the flute to his lips and the band started playing immediately. I had never seen anything like it. I was blown away. Such precision in a rock group is highly unusual. I was impressed. Plus I like their music too. The flute adds something, making their sound distinctive.
I feel the same way about It’s a Beautiful Day. David LaFlamme plays the violin (fiddle or whatever you want to call it) and it gives the group a nice unique sound. LaFlamme in a live show could match the pyrotechnics of an Alvin Lee or Johnny Winter wailing on a guitar.

I saw Stevie Wonder at the Cow Palace. A strange place for a concert but I suspect they wanted to keep the profits themselves rather than splitting them with Bill Graham who pretty much controlled the concert sites in San Francisco. (Of course the Beatles played at the Cow Palace before the Candlestick final concert. The fans stormed the stage as usual.)
The Cow Palace is located in South San Francisco. I like Stevie Wonder. I have most of his albums that he made at that time. He was escorted on stage by a handler to help him avoid the various dangers that staging rock concerts create. The rest of the group had come on previously to maximize the entrance applause for Mr. Wonder. I think the drummer provided the cues to start the songs. No doubt the sets were preplanned and well practiced. The show was flawless. Stevie bobs back and forth constantly moving his head around as part of the way he orients himself to his surroundings just like Ray Charles or Jose Feliciano. I have a lot of respect for those with the loss of a sense (like blindness or deafness) who carry on as best they can (not everyone has the talent to be a rock star, you carry on nonetheless). Back to Mr. Wonder. The part of the show I remember was when he picked up what he called a new type of musical instrument. This is where my memory gets a little sketchy. He started playing it and it sounded like someone singing through a theremin. It was a stringed instrument that had an eerie vocal quality. Searching on the web makes me think it was called a harpejji. It has a very distinctive sound. It was a good show and I have a lot of respect for Mr. Wonder and what he accomplished musically.

I have always been interested in novel musical instruments. I built a theremin (at least it was like a theremin) except it had two copper plates instead of antennas to control frequency and volume. It was interesting to play for a couple of months. It’s not an easy instrument to actually make songs with. It’s more like a sound effects instrument. My mother probably threw it out when I wasn’t looking along with my comic book collection. If you’re into new or different musical instruments check out Harry Partch. He has built some of the most amazing musical instruments you can imagine.

In June 1970 during the summer break after my sophomore year at college when I went to a rock concert in England. I had bought a Norton Commando 750 in London and was riding around England breaking it in. The concert was the Bath Blues Festival in Bath, England. It was a two day affair (Saturday and Sunday). Almost all the bands had headlined at Fillmore or Winterland (and I’d seen them) : Led Zeppelin, Jefferson Airplane, the Byrds, Country Joe, Pink Floyd, Johnny Winter, It’s Beautiful Day and others.
I came down for the Sunday show especially to see Led Zeppelin. In addition to Led Zeppelin I had never seen Frank Zappa or Santana. All were scheduled to play on Sunday. I remember the weather was miserable. It rained. It was muddy. Both problems for a motorcycle. In addition there were a hundred and fifty thousand people at the two day concert. The crowd covered itself with plastic sheets, cardboard or just got wet. It didn’t seem to bother anyone. However the conditions for a motorcycle were treacherous. I rode up as close to the stage as I could and parked my bike under a tree. Donovan who wasn’t scheduled to play but apparently filled in for bands that couldn’t get their equipment in due to the massive traffic jam from all the people and cars and the inclement weather. Donovan kept the crowd occupied with his bubblegum music for a couple of hours until Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention performed in the afternoon, followed by Santana, and finally Led Zeppelin. All the performers were good though I thought Led Zeppelin was exceptional. Though it could have been the crowd which despite the conditions were rabid fans Their set started in the evening around 8pm. They played a lot of hits so at around 10pm I figured the show was nearing the end and when they started playing Whole Lotta Love I as certain. I moved to get my bike but they continued with Communication Breakdown. I figured that had to be the end of their set. It was 10:30pm so I got on my bike and got out of there to beat the rush. It was now dark but at least it wasn’t raining. But I read in the paper the next day that they played for another hour after that. It was a great show and Jimmy Page was amazing on guitar.

After Bath I went north to finish breaking in my bike. It was on the road right in front of Stonehenge that I first got my bike up to 100 miles an hour.

Probably the most famous concert I went to was the Rolling Stones Concert at Altamont. I remember the Airplane played before the Rolling Stones but stopped their set when the Hells Angels started a commotion in front and after several false starts they quit the stage. I read later that Marty Balin got knocked out by a beer bottle when he went to stop a fight. Things were getting weird when the Airplane quit playing and got the hell out of there. There was a long break then the Stones appeared and started playing just as it was getting dark. The crowd was restless but after the Stones started playing things seemed to quiet down. There were scuffles in front of the stage but I couldn’t see what. The Stones stopped playing in the middle of songs at least once. I was under a 20 foot high scaffold tower that had a guy with a bright spotlight focused on the stage. It was swinging back and forth. It made me very nervous. Fights kept breaking out. And the thing felt very strange and weird. I think the Stones would have liked to quit like Jefferson Airplane but they figured a wholesale riot would break out and it would be a big mess. They played on for an hour or so but it wasn’t uplifting. I just felt relief that the light tower hadn’t fallen on me. I don’t even remember what the Stones played. I didn’t find out that someone had been killed by the Hells Angels until the next day. The end of an era I’m told. So it goes.

Another memorable concert was actually the last rock concert I ever attended, It was Bob Dylan and the Band at the Oakland Coliseum. It was an incredible concert. The place was packed. Dylan and the Band were in great form. At one point 1/3 of the crowd lit up matches or candles in the darkened auditorium and swayed to the music. I had never seen it done except for a midnight performance of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It was very moving. Dylan is one of my favorite artists and I was glad to have finally seen him. Somewhere I have pictures I took with my Minolta SLR camera. Memories. Time well spent.

That’s it for now. I’ll talk more when I look at my stored rock concert posters and talk about them in my ruminations on rock concert and movie posters.