Sunday, August 16, 2009

Forty Years After


I catch that Woodstock movie every ten years or so and each passing decade brings a different reaction. I was fifteen (almost sixteen) when Woodstock happened and at that time I would have liked to have seen Arlo Guthrie, because he was so pretty, Joan Baez, because Daddy liked her too, Canned Heat, Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane and Jimi Hendrix because I loved them.


Back then I wasn’t that enamoured of Ten Years After or Joe Cocker and the Grease Band mainly because I didn’t fancy Alvin Lee or Joe Cocker. Alvin might have been greatly talented but he had a chin like Bruce Forsyth and I couldn’t imagine myself walking hand in hand with him through a cherry orchard in full bloom. Likewise Mr Cocker – great to listen to, but so sweaty, so rough, so not a Jackie pin-up.

Last night though told me a different story – there were Alvin and Joe, their sweet young faces, so soft, so unlined, and so young. How could I ever have thought they were hard or manly? They were darling, clever, brilliant and talented infants.


Then Santana came on. Now I have never been much of a Santana fan, nor did I ever care much for drum solos – but talk about babies! You should have seen that drummer! A cherub! I said to Bert. Look at him. He’s a baby. You wouldn’t get anyone as young these days, who’d be as skilled as that (correct me if I’m wrong). They wouldn’t put that effort into learning their craft. So spake the fogies of the Woodstock generation.


Later, I turned to Wikipedia to find out more. Michael Shrieve was that young drummer, he was only twenty, and he was the youngest performer to have played at Woodstock.

Here’s a link to the performance.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnamP4-M9ko


It starts with a shot of some fat, bare asses, a beautiful collie dog, then a guitarist with the best ever red hat, Carlos Santana and his amazing sinewy arms, some naked guy acting messianic, guy pubic hair shots, some blonde librarian type looking like she’s having an orgasm, lots of silly hippies, more fat bare asses and the amazing Michael Shrieve.


3 comments:

Ronni said...

Almost every outdoor concert I ever saw involved rain. There was no way I could have gone, all the way from Vancouver, but I fantasized about it. After I heard about the mess, I was glad I wasn't there, but...oh, the music!

Nelly said...

Which act would you have most liked to have seen Ronni?

ConnectingTheDots said...

Interesting blog. Arguably, the biggest legacy of Woodstock is its huge impact on the real children of the sixties: Generation Jones (born 1954-1965, between the Boomers and Generation X). This USA TODAY op-ed speaks to the relevance today of the sixties counterculture impact on GenJones: http://www.usatoday.com/printedition/news/20090127/column27_st.art.htm

Google Generation Jones, and you’ll see it’s gotten a ton of media attention, and many top commentators from many top publications and networks (Washington Post, Time magazine, NBC, Newsweek, ABC, etc.) now specifically use this term. In fact, the Associated Press' annual Trend Report forcast the Rise of Generation Jones as the #1 trend of 2009.

Here's a page with a good overview of recent media interest in GenJones:
http://generationjones.com/2009latest.html