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Summer of Love bands and fans jam in Golden Gate Park
Joel Selvin, Chronicle Senior Pop Music Critic
(09-02) 21:33 PDT San Francisco -- Country Joe McDonald sang a new song and probably echoed the central thought of the day for most of the huge crowd at the 40th anniversary Summer of Love concert in Golden Gate Park on Sunday: "I wish I was back in the Summer of Love."
And for a moment, Speedway Meadow - in the sea of tie-dye with the aroma of marijuana wafting everywhere - almost seemed to feel like another time. Except for the portable ATMs dotting the landscape and all those cell phones.
A crowed estimated at more than 50,000 people, spanning multiple generations, filled the meadow to listen to a procession of '60s rock bands under a cloudless sky. The day began with blessings offered by Native American shamans and ended nine hours later with Jolie Valente, son of the late Dino Valente of Quicksilver Messenger Service, singing his dad's song "Get Together."
"It's never too late for another Summer of Love," said Wes "Scoop" Nisker, former underground radio newscaster.
"I haven't felt like this since 1969," said Woodstock concert producer Artie Kornfeld, one of the many counterculture heroes who appeared during the brief intermissions in the crisply efficient production.
The old hippies look a little worn. The brief reunion of Moby Grape - with the late Skip Spence's son, Omar, sitting in for his dad - went off well enough, but it's hard to imagine that band ever playing together again. Many of the bands were flying missing-man formations. Canned Heat featured only one original member - drummer Fito de la Parra - because most of the other guys are dead.
"Jerry (Garcia) couldn't make it, but he sends his regards," said the late guitarist's former bandmate John Dawson, making an appearance with their old band, New Riders of the Purple Sage.
As this generation approaches senior citizenship, signs of old age are beginning to show. Buddy Miles has heart problems. Lester Chambers of the Chambers Brothers can't use one of his arms. Merl Saunders was backstage, getting around pretty well after his stroke. There were a lot of canes and more than a few wheelchairs at the raucous backstage party, a tie-dyed reunion of hundreds of old friends.
Paul Kantner, always one of the most vocal proponents of music in the parks, brought his latest edition of the Jefferson Starship - with original Jefferson Airplane vocalist Marty Balin - as one of the afternoon's unannounced highlights. All day, veterans of the Fillmore and Avalon era of San Francisco played in various configurations.
Beat poet Michael McClure, whose play "The Beard" was performed in the early days of the Fillmore, performed with a jazz group led by Ray Manzarek of the Doors. The Charlatans, headliners of the first acid-rock concert in San Francisco, put on those old suits and hats one more time. Both Country Joe and Barry "The Fish" Melton played, but not together - they don't speak. Wavy Gravy? Just try and do this without him.
At the far end of the field, a cluster of food stands and arts and crafts booths attracted visitors. Stanley Mouse, the psychedelic artist who drew the Grateful Dead's skull and roses, manned his own booth, selling signed copies of the poster he made for the event - one of a series produced by different artists. Mouse's original oil painting for the poster leaned against the back of his tent.
The event was produced by Boots Hughston, a longtime figure on the Northern California music scene who ran shows at the Maritime Hall for six years in the '90s. A 1966 Galileo High School graduate, Hughston attended the Human Be-In at the Polo Fields in January 1967 and belonged to Fillmore-era bands such as Womb and Aum. Hughston bankrolled the $120,000 budget for Sunday's anniversary party and said he figures he will wind up losing about $20,000.
"That's OK - I already got a car," he said. "It's like buying myself a new car."
People really did seem transported to another time, another place. There were big smiles everywhere, and strangers were unusually friendly. Many people wore costumes for the event, and some even seemed to know they were costumes.
As summer now fades into fall, the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love fades after more than three months of media scrutiny and hand-wringing analysis, as the peace-and-love generation measures its march to seniority. Many of the people addressing the crowd noted the parallel between an unpopular war 40 years ago and, again, today. But the most obvious point of all the Summer of Love anniversary contemplation and celebration is that it was a hell of a long time ago and things have changed since then. It's amazing all that ever happened at all.
Hughston hoped to refresh everyone's memory.
"The meaning is compassion, love and understanding," he said. "We're all here to make that statement. These people are not here to listen to some bands that haven't played in 20 or 30 years."
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/09/03/MNPVRU8JS.DTL
Joel Selvin, Chronicle Senior Pop Music Critic
(09-02) 21:33 PDT San Francisco -- Country Joe McDonald sang a new song and probably echoed the central thought of the day for most of the huge crowd at the 40th anniversary Summer of Love concert in Golden Gate Park on Sunday: "I wish I was back in the Summer of Love."
And for a moment, Speedway Meadow - in the sea of tie-dye with the aroma of marijuana wafting everywhere - almost seemed to feel like another time. Except for the portable ATMs dotting the landscape and all those cell phones.
A crowed estimated at more than 50,000 people, spanning multiple generations, filled the meadow to listen to a procession of '60s rock bands under a cloudless sky. The day began with blessings offered by Native American shamans and ended nine hours later with Jolie Valente, son of the late Dino Valente of Quicksilver Messenger Service, singing his dad's song "Get Together."
"It's never too late for another Summer of Love," said Wes "Scoop" Nisker, former underground radio newscaster.
"I haven't felt like this since 1969," said Woodstock concert producer Artie Kornfeld, one of the many counterculture heroes who appeared during the brief intermissions in the crisply efficient production.
The old hippies look a little worn. The brief reunion of Moby Grape - with the late Skip Spence's son, Omar, sitting in for his dad - went off well enough, but it's hard to imagine that band ever playing together again. Many of the bands were flying missing-man formations. Canned Heat featured only one original member - drummer Fito de la Parra - because most of the other guys are dead.
"Jerry (Garcia) couldn't make it, but he sends his regards," said the late guitarist's former bandmate John Dawson, making an appearance with their old band, New Riders of the Purple Sage.
As this generation approaches senior citizenship, signs of old age are beginning to show. Buddy Miles has heart problems. Lester Chambers of the Chambers Brothers can't use one of his arms. Merl Saunders was backstage, getting around pretty well after his stroke. There were a lot of canes and more than a few wheelchairs at the raucous backstage party, a tie-dyed reunion of hundreds of old friends.
Paul Kantner, always one of the most vocal proponents of music in the parks, brought his latest edition of the Jefferson Starship - with original Jefferson Airplane vocalist Marty Balin - as one of the afternoon's unannounced highlights. All day, veterans of the Fillmore and Avalon era of San Francisco played in various configurations.
Beat poet Michael McClure, whose play "The Beard" was performed in the early days of the Fillmore, performed with a jazz group led by Ray Manzarek of the Doors. The Charlatans, headliners of the first acid-rock concert in San Francisco, put on those old suits and hats one more time. Both Country Joe and Barry "The Fish" Melton played, but not together - they don't speak. Wavy Gravy? Just try and do this without him.
At the far end of the field, a cluster of food stands and arts and crafts booths attracted visitors. Stanley Mouse, the psychedelic artist who drew the Grateful Dead's skull and roses, manned his own booth, selling signed copies of the poster he made for the event - one of a series produced by different artists. Mouse's original oil painting for the poster leaned against the back of his tent.
The event was produced by Boots Hughston, a longtime figure on the Northern California music scene who ran shows at the Maritime Hall for six years in the '90s. A 1966 Galileo High School graduate, Hughston attended the Human Be-In at the Polo Fields in January 1967 and belonged to Fillmore-era bands such as Womb and Aum. Hughston bankrolled the $120,000 budget for Sunday's anniversary party and said he figures he will wind up losing about $20,000.
"That's OK - I already got a car," he said. "It's like buying myself a new car."
People really did seem transported to another time, another place. There were big smiles everywhere, and strangers were unusually friendly. Many people wore costumes for the event, and some even seemed to know they were costumes.
As summer now fades into fall, the 40th anniversary of the Summer of Love fades after more than three months of media scrutiny and hand-wringing analysis, as the peace-and-love generation measures its march to seniority. Many of the people addressing the crowd noted the parallel between an unpopular war 40 years ago and, again, today. But the most obvious point of all the Summer of Love anniversary contemplation and celebration is that it was a hell of a long time ago and things have changed since then. It's amazing all that ever happened at all.
Hughston hoped to refresh everyone's memory.
"The meaning is compassion, love and understanding," he said. "We're all here to make that statement. These people are not here to listen to some bands that haven't played in 20 or 30 years."
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/09/03/MNPVRU8JS.DTL
