January 1966: The San Francisco Acid Tests

THE ACID TEST AND OTHER MARVELS

San Francisco’s reputation as a center for avant-garde activity, artistic and otherwise, seems about to be enhanced.
At any rate there are a number of events scheduled for the coming weeks which bear upon this. Not all of them lend themselves easily to description, but it is obvious that there is something going on here touching upon creative activity and, possibly, a lineal descendent of the non-objective film days and the well-remembered programs of Vortex.

The San Francisco Museum some years ago presented an evening in which a jazz group, headed by tenor saxophonist Kermit Scott, improvised music as an accompaniment to films by Pat Marx and Harry Smith. Vortex, utilizing the possibilities of the moving lights at the Planetarium, presented some exciting combinations of light and sound.
A production called “Vision in Motion,” billed as “a spontaneous light sound composition,” will be offered at the Tape Music Center January 14 and 15 at 8 p.m. and on Sunday, January 18, at 11 a.m. and 8 p.m. and again on the following weekend.
“The light and motion are being created at the very moment that we see it,” Henry Schaeffer, producer of the affair says, and adds that it is not a film.

Ken Kesey, author of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” is presenting his Merry Band of Pranksters tomorrow night at the Fillmore Auditorium in a program he finds impossible to describe in words. The happening is called “The Acid Test” and includes lights, sound and music.
Kesey says that he is expressing himself through “The Acid Test” these days and not through the more orthodox methods of fiction. “I write in this thing so you can see it as it happens,” he says. The Fillmore Auditorium happening is scheduled to go on all night, Kesey adds.
And then on the weekend of January 21, 22 and 23, there will be a giant “Trips Festival” at the Longshore Hall, which will include just about every possible light-sound trip available. Kesey’s group, including his “Psychedelic Symphony,” will take part. There will be two shows nightly, 8 and 12 o’clock.
The first program, January 21, has Ben Jacopetti of the Open Theater as M.C. and includes some standards from the Open Theater repertoire such as The Jazz Mice, Beatle Readings, The Endless Explosion, The God Box, the Congress of Wonders and other wonders. Stewart Brand’s “America Needs Indians – Sensorium 9” with slides and movies about innumerable Indian tribes plus sound tracks, rock ‘n roll and an eagle bone whistle shares the evening.

Kesey will be M.C. on the Saturday program. There will be “Parades and Changes” by members of the Tape Music Center and the Dancer’s Workshop; the Holding Company rock ‘n roll group will play; there will be a sound-light console and overhead projection and 50 flashlights! Kesey’s “Acid Test” with The Grateful Dead rock group, Ron Boise and his Electric Thunder sculpture, Hell’s Angels, Allen Ginsberg, and an event called “Neal Cassady vs. Ann Murphy Vaudeville.”
The third evening is unplanned and the audience is invited to wear “ecstatic dress” and to bring its own toys (sic). Someone or something called “Pinball Machine” will be M.C. The Open Theater, the Tape Music Center, America Needs Indians, the Dancer’s Workshop, Kesey’s Merry Pranksters, Vortex, Marshall MacLuhan (author of “Understanding Media”) and “The Stroboscopic Trampoline” will take part.
The stated objective of the series is “an audience-experienced psychedelic reaction without the use of drugs.” Or how to go up without taking off.

(by Ralph Gleason, from the "On the Town" column, SF Chronicle, January 7 1966)

http://www.goodbear.com/concert_art/01_07_66.html


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IT WAS QUITE A WEEKEND!

Wow! What a weekend. There was so much going on I had to pull an amoeba and send my alter ego to some of it. [ . . . ]
My alter ego, Saturday night, scurried around to the various events in town: here are excerpts from his report:
“At the Longshoremen’s Hall, there was a rock ‘n’ roll dance with the Vejetables sponsored by KYA. I was there early and there were no pickets protesting the firing of Russ ‘The Moose’ Syracuse. At least not while I was there. The audience was young. Very young.
“At California Hall, the Family Dog was running another dance with the Jefferson Airplane and the Charlatans. The crowd was older and the Airplane, for the first time I’ve heard them, had the voice mikes up enough so you could understand what they were singing. They have a sound as good as the Byrds. The crowd was older – very few under 18, I would say. And there were light patterns flickering on the ceiling.

“Up at the Fillmore Auditorium, Ken Kesey’s Acid Test event was in action when I got there around the middle of the evening. The people were like the backstage crowd at the California Hall dance. The costumes were, wow! A strobe light was flickering at a very high frequency in one corner of the hall and a group of people were bouncing a golden balloon up and down in it. It was a most perturbing frequency. It hurt to look at them.
“In one corner there was a piece of metal, tubular sculpture, a thumping machine. If you hit it, you got different sounds when you hit it on different places.
“There was a lot of electronic equipment which sent out a low reverberation that resonated throughout the hall. And the whole place was full of streamers and balloons. There were TV cameras and a TV screen, and you could see yourself in it. On stage there was a rock group; anybody could play with them. It was a kind of social jam session.
“A guy in a white mechanic’s suit with a black cross on the front, and on the back a sign saying “Please Don’t Believe in Magic” ran up and down all night. Oh, wow! Periodically the lights went out and everybody cheered. Giant frisbies, balloons like basketballs, acrobats, girls in felt eyelashes four inches long, fluorescent painting on jeans, glasses low on the nose with eyes painted on them, people with eyes painted on their foreheads, men with foxes on their shoulders! Wow!
“And then the cops came and said the entertainment had to stop, defining entertainment as music, singing, and the strobe light! Quite a night!”
It must have been.

(by Ralph Gleason, from the “On the Town” column, SF Chronicle, January 10 1966)

http://www.goodbear.com/concert_art/01_10_66.html

http://archive.org/details/gd1966-01-08.sbd.lestatkatt.106505.flac16


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TRIPS FESTIVAL HANDBILL

this is the FIRST gathering of its kind anywhere. the TRIP – or electronic performance – is a new medium of communication & entertainment.
in this FESTIVAL, audience & participants will see how the TRIP has been developed for THEATER, MUSIC & DANCE, EDUCATION, LIGHT & SOUND, ROCK ‘N’ ROLL, SCULPTURE, NOVELISTS & POETS.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 21

america needs indians, sensorium 9 – slides, movies, sound tracks, flowers, food, rock ‘n’ roll, eagle lone whistle, indians (senecas, chippewas, hopi, sioux, blackfeet, etc.) & anthropologists. open theatre – “revelations” – nudeprojections. “the god box” by ben jacopetti. the endless explosion, the congress of wonders, liquid projections, the jazz mice, the loading zone rock ‘n’ roll, steve fowler, amanda foulger, rain jacopetti, & the unexpectable.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 22
ken kesey, members of the s.f. tape music center, big brother & the holding company rock ‘n’ roll, the don buchla sound-light console, overhead projection, anthony martin, ramon sender, bill maginnis, bruce baillie. “the acid test”, the merry pranksters & their psychedelic symphony, neal cassady vs. ann murphy vaudeville, the grateful dead rock ‘n’ roll, alen ginsberg, roy’s audioptics, movies, ron boise & his electric thunder sculpture, the bus, hell’s angels, many noted outlaws, & the unexpectable.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 23
high-energy experiments conducted in the cyclotron of dome-shaped longshoreman’s hall by america needs indians, open theatre, s.f. tape music center, the merry pranksters, gordon ashby (light matrix), henry jacobs (air dome projection), kqed, don buchla, the grateful dead, the loading zone, big brother & the holding company, & many others still being assembled. since the common element of all shows is ELECTRICITY, this evening will be programmed live from stimuli provided by a PINBALL MACHINE. a nickel in the slot starts the evening.

the general tone of things has moved on from the self-conscious happening to a more JUBILANT occasion where the AUDIENCE PARTICIPATES because it’s more fun to do so than not. maybe this is the ROCK REVOLUTION. audience DANCING is an assumed part of all the shows, & the audience is invited to wear ECSTATIC DRESS & bring their own GADGETS (a.c. outlets will be provided).
the FESTIVAL begins with a joyful public PARADE under the blizzard of torn-up calendars in downtown san francisco on december 31.

JANUARY 21, 22 + 23
8 TO 12 PM
LONGSHOREMEN’S HALL
(400 NORTH POINT)
TICKETS - $2 per evening, $5 for series


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PROGRAM (Excerpt)

Friday, January 21
10:00 OPEN THEATRE PRESENTS

Ned's Mob and the Congress of Wonders
Music and Beatle Readings
The God Box: a conception by & with Ben Jacopetti & Wainwright / Masturbation Sermon from the works of O.S. Fowler by Stephen Fowler / Sermon from the works of Aimee Semple McPherson / Amanda Foulger Revelations including the Open Theatre staff producing sounds, colors, lights & effects in high frequency and The Loading Zone Rock & Roll
dancedancedance

Saturday, January 22
8:00 OPTIONS and CONTRACTS at the present time with

Tape Music Center members &
Canyon Cinema
The SOUND-LIGHT CONSOLE by Don Buchla
performers: Don Buchla, Charles Macdermod, Ramon Sender
The ring-modulated guitar of JIM Gurly
BIG BROTHER & THE HOLDING COMPANY
Films & loops by Anthony Martin & Bruce Baillie
[ . . . ]

10:00 “THE ACID TEST”
The Merry Pranksters

Can YOU pass the Acid Test? There’s no way to think about it or read about it. There’s no other way to know than go ahead on it. Can you die to your corpses? Can you metamorphose? Can you pass the 20th Century?
What is total dance?
The Acid Test has been conducted in recent weeks at Santa Cruz, San Jose, Palo Alto, Portland, San Francisco, here, and is snowballing fast. Rolling east next month, it will soon be international, if not cosmic.

Sunday, January 23
We don’t know.
Participants, besides yourself, are Henry Jacobs (who first carried out the fantasy of turning on an air dome), John Korty (illustrious film maker), Gordon Ashby (who designed the Light Matrix for IBM), Bruce Conner (illustrious film maker), Ann Halprin & dancers, Pauline Oliveros (with Elizabeth Harris and the 12-foot light sitar), Chinese New Years Lion Dancers & Drum and Bugle Corps, the Stroboscopic Trampoline, The Grateful Dead, Big Brother and the Holding Company, The Loading Zone, America Needs Indians, Open Theater, Tape Center, the Merry Pranksters, and
It’s prayer, mostly.

http://www.postertrip.com/public/5577.cfm
http://www.o-art.org/history/50s&_60s/Trips/TripProg.html


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LITTLE THEATER NOTES

A mammoth, three day “trips festival,” or electronic show, will be held this weekend at the huge San Francisco Longshoremen’s Hall. Shows are set for tonight, Saturday and Sunday, with each performance running from 8 p.m. until midnight.
Tonight’s affair will feature members of Berkeley’s Open Theater, slides, movies, rock and roll music, jazz, American Indians, poetry reading and revelations.
On Saturday’s bill are the San Francisco Tape Music Center, Dancer’s Workshop, a rock and roll group with 50 flashlights, thunder sculpture, a psychedelic symphony, movies and Hell’s Angels.
Sunday will highlight spontaneous sound, a stroboscopic trampoline and more carrying on by assorted actors, dancers, musicians and technicians. Improvisation and extensive audience participation will be an integral part of all three evenings.

(from the Oakland Tribune, 1/21/66, January 21 1966)
Thanks to Corry!


* * *


ONE WILD NIGHT – A TRIPS FESTIVAL

In the opening pages of that modern classic, “The Circus of Dr. Lao” (available now in a Bantam paperback), Dr. Lao’s circus is described as having a midway “replete with sideshows wherein were curious beings of the netherworld on display, macabre trophies of ancient conquests, resurrected supermen of antiquity.”
Dr. Lao would have been right at home at the Trips Festival this weekend: the variety, imagination, degree of exoticism and just plain freaky far-outness of the thousands who thronged the Longshore Hall defies description.
Hastening to get this report to you, I have had to skip Sunday night’s affair, but I can tell you what went on at the other two. Friday night: Nothing. A bust, a bore, a fake, a fraud, a bum trip. One of the frustrated customers got on stage halfway through the dull evening and said, unselfconsciously, into the microphone, “this is a bore even on acid.” A little while later, the guy behind me said to his partner, “Let’s go out in the car and listen to the radio.” It seemed like a bright idea.

Despite the promise of unspeakable delights, all that happened Friday was a series of dull stage events from the Open Theater (which may be successful there, but are nowhere in a large hall), some slides of pictures of Indians and some free form, multi-colored flicks. At one point I went over and looked into the Indian teepee that was set up on the floor. There was nothing in that, either.
But Saturday night was a different story. It was, in fact, a ball. The theme might well have been the line from The Drifters’ hit, “Right smack dab in the middle of town I found a paradise that’s trouble proof.”
You would have been hard put to it to buy a fight. There wasn’t room enough to swing. And the place was jammed with a congeries of exotics Dr. Lao would have been proud to exhibit. There was a man bandaged all over, with only his eyes peeking out through dark glasses, carrying a crutch and wearing a sign: “You’re in the Pepsi generation and I’m a pimply freak.” Another long-haired exotic dressed in modified Hell’s Angels leather jerkin had “Under Ass Wizard Mojo Indian Fighter” stenciled on his back. Several varieties of Lawrence of Arabia costumes wandered throgh the crowd and even one of the guards, in those silly ersatz police uniforms which don’t say WHAT police but only “police” on them, was wearing a bit of plastic gook referred to as “psychedelic plastic jewelry.”

There was a Psychedelic store selling books. Another selling Trips Festival Sweatshirts and another selling publications about insects.
There were five movie screens up on the wall and projectors for the flicks and other light mixes spread around the balcony. A huge platform in the middle of the room housed the engineers who directed the sound and the lights. Loudspeakers ringed the hall and were set up under the balcony and in the entrance. A huge pair of red and yellow traffic lights blinked constantly. Stroboscopic lights set at vantage points beamed down into the crowd and lissome maidens danced under them for hours, whirling jewelry. A man played a pennywhistle for one of the dancers.
On stage a succession of good rock ‘n’ roll bands, The Grateful Dead Big Brother and The Holding Company, produced the kind of sonic high that big bands used to, only the rock groups do it quicker and for more people. A platform in front of the stage was for dancers who free-form twisted all night long. On the main floor, people stood around and watched or danced, and the balcony was jammed. Both nights were huge box office successes, but only Saturday produced things like the solitary male who spun around in circles gazing at the ceiling and the guy who held his head in his hands and danced, bent over with his face to the floor. Long legged girls in leotards leaped around the hall with shrill whistles blowing.

Three people sat on a blanket in the middle of the floor all evening talking. A handsome, tall woman danced up to a blonde man and said, “Can’t we go somewhere and dance? Privately?”
Various non-participatory spectators, such as Eric “Big Daddy” Nord, Tom “Big Daddy” Donahue, and Dr. Francis Rigney, walked around bedazzled by the display. Dozens of film men and photographers thronged around the stage. Ken Kesey in a space helmet and jumper suit stalked the floor.
At one point, early in the evening, a beautiful young lady, wearing a long denim shirt, danced with a muscular young man who was shirtless. The young lady opened her shirt. She abandoned her shirt. Shortly she was topless. And they danced. It was indicative of the evening that even after the Merry Pranksters had removed this delightful bit of the unexpected, the evening continued to be exciting.

(by Ralph Gleason, from the "On the Town" column, SF Chronicle, January 24 1966)

http://www.goodbear.com/concert_art/01_24_66.html

See also http://www.digthatcrazyfarout.com/trips/trips_festival_history.html


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CENSURE, PRAISE FOR ‘TRIPS’ FESTIVAL

The really impressive success of last weekend’s Trips Festival at the Longshore Hall deserves a few afterthoughts, as well as the review of Monday last.
In the first place, it should be noted that the success of the evening was in direct relationship to the quality and the presence of the music.
On Friday night, which was a drag, there was no music at all until almost 11:30. I mean no music for dancing. On Saturday, the music was good (The New Brothers were outstanding, incidentally) and it went on all night long. The dancing was so good that the episode of the gorgeous young lady who disrobed in order to be topless, which then provoked her bare-chested partner into doing what every red-blooded male has wanted to do when he has seen an attractive topless dancer – or almost doing it – didn’t make the rest of the evening an anti-climax.
On Sunday night, the success was spotty and so was the music.
And the only music worth mentioning was the rock ‘n roll bands which were live and in person and played from the stage. The vaunted electronic sound, and the rest of the pre-event propaganda which some of us fell for – just simply didn’t materialize or, if it did, was unnoticed.

There were lots of amplifiers and lots of reverberating sounds coming from them, but there was nothing, for instance, as well done as the things Henry Jacobs showed years ago in Vortex. I might add that the management and its flacks really do deserve censure for announcing all sorts of things that didn’t happen including Vortex, the presence of Allen Ginsberg, and Marshall McLuhan, and numerous other events, as well as the terrible hang-up at the entrance and exits.
The Truth about the Trips Festival is that it was a three-night, weekend-long rock ‘n roll dance with light effects. When the dull projections took over, as on Friday, it was nowhere. When the good rock music wailed, it was great.
The thing which provided all the paying customers is the fact that urban America is producing an increasing body of people who want to dance. The bomb and the pill and the New Youth combine (and intertwine) to motivate people to dance. That’s all. We haven’t had anything like it in over 20 years.
It is new. But new only to this class of people. Negroes have patronized dances right along. It is only the non-colored, WASP population which has been so inhibited by the Grey Flannel Suit Age of Conformity that it could not dance. Now, this splinter group of creative people is dancing. These are the brave ones.
The crowd at the Trips Festival was the same crowd that came to the Lovin’ Spoonful dance and to the Mime Troupe benefits at the Fillmore Auditorium. No Acid Test, no circus ballyhoo attracted them – even though some of the sideshows, like Ron Boise’s sculpture, was a gas. They came for to dance. That’s all. And they dressed as far out and as creatively as they could. Just like they have been.

As I’ve said before (I hate that phrase but as far as I can discover nobody else IS saying it) the public officials and the law enforcement agencies will just have to adapt to this new thing. It is harmless and it is legal. It is, in fact, a delight. The presence of exotically dressed adults and youths dancing in a wild, free-form, abandoned manner naturally puzzles the fuzz. As Ken Kesey remarked, “There’s a lot of stuff that isn’t quite illegal but they know there must be something wrong with it.”
The fact of the matter is that we are in a new age with a new religion and with new standards. That we may still be governed by laws made in the last one, and interpreted by people raised in the last one, only indicates the inevitability of change.

(by Ralph Gleason, from the SF Chronicle, January 30 1966)

http://www.goodbear.com/concert_art/01_30_66.html

*  *  * 

THE TRIPS FESTIVAL

With a few minor exceptions, the "Trips Festival" was a flop. The next significant thing that happened was that the whole idea of trips, mass psychedelics, and the costume-hippies movement started on its way to respectability. This may not be a good thing. It rated newspaper reviews, camera crews from Time, Life, Newsweek, etc., and network-TV coverage. And they have received offers from various respectable sources to come to other cities. 

The spirit of the Trips Festival passed through the Bay Area. It's continuing. A few nights ago I heard a radio advertisement for a rock and roll dance featuring the Jefferson Airplane. It prominently mentioned that it would have lighting effects from the Trips Festival and advised people to come in costumes and fluorescent colors. The KYA announcer told his audience (largest of any radio station) that tickets could be purchased, among other places, at the "Psychedelic Shop!" More than one or two teeners will be looking into the meaning of that word.

Friday night was a grand drag. The audience was too much like fans at a high school football rally waiting for the pom-pon girls. There were too many cops and too many undercover narcos. But the real fault of Friday night was with the Open Theatre. They were vapid, boring, and dull. Definitely a bad trip. They just didn't know what to do with the audience or how to do it. The haphazard appendage at the end of a rock and roll band, The Loading Zone, (not that good), was a frank admission of their failure. 

The "America Needs Indians" group, responsible for the other part of the show, was slightly better, but definitely nowhere as far as trips are concerned. As Ralph Gleason noted, the teepee they set up was empty. Their slides were clever juxtapositions but a little too obviously sociological and political in their message. What didn't come across is why America really needs Indians: The government supports them so they don't have to work; they weave and make things of extravagant colors and designs; and they spent a lot of time chewing Peyote. 

Saturday night was too crowded. The Tape Music Center which put on the first part of that evening's show had some nice ideas, but they couldn't do it either. The colors and sounds were nice, if curious, but unimaginative. They had some fantastic electronic equipment but didn't know how to use it with people. 

The best part was the Acid Test. This free-form inspiration of Ken Kesey and his pals is definitely a trip. But it never really got off the ground. They only had three hours for what is supposed to be an all night thing (eight hours!). Past Acid Tests have begun with rock and roll from the Grateful Dead, probably the best of all the Bay Area rock groups. This loosens everyone up and makes them more responsive to other people and their environment. That this was shortened is significant; this particular flight never took off. The Pranksters did a good job in the time they had, but it wasn't enough. 

The Festival as a whole had several problems. The idea of stands selling their wares (such as the Psychedelic Shop, which ain't so psychedelic), is too much like the state fair. The huge number of people and the setup of the Longshoreman's Hall created an audience where what was called for was participants. 

The advertising and literature for the Festival promised much more than was delivered, leading to inevitable disappointment. The mass promotion brought too many of the wrong people. Those who know what's happening show up anyway at these things, as they have at the Acid Tests in the past. Too many people who had to be told what was happening came to the Trips Festival. 

The rock and roll was careless and haphazard. The electronic music was poor. The Festival's 'producer,' i.e. the-man-who-was-in-charge-of-the-busy-work, was a total drag. Mr. Bill Graham of the Mime Troupe seemed opposed to havng a good time, relaxation, and producing general ease. His extreme up-tightness put the rent-a-cops up-tight, and the rent-a-cops put quite a few other people up-tight. 

It is doubtful the Trips Festival will ever happen again. Kesey inspired the idea, but too many groups who didn't know what they were doing became involved in it. Three hours of the Acid Test couldn't rescue it. The Acid Test is where a "trips festival" should probably be at. By itself, The Acid Test is going on, in their words, "and snowballing. Rolling east next month, it will soon be international, if not cosmic." More on that next week.

(by Mr. Jones, from the "Something's Happening" column, Daily Californian, February 4, 1966)

*  *  *

'CAN YOU PASS THE ACID TEST?'

The Acid Test is a free-form inspiration of Ken Kesey and his Pals. His pals call themselves "The Merry Pranksters." They drive themselves around in a cerise, chartreuse, and magenta colored school bus which disappeared last week along with its novelist owner. Will the Acid Test disappear along with its father? They are planning to hold it in Los Angeles this weekend, and it is reasonable to assume Kesey won't be there even if they will. They are dreaming of a cross-country tour to New York, and wildly speculating about a trip to Europe. It may not die without its father, but it may be doomed because of congenital birth defects. 

Let me say right here that the Acid Test is no place for a person's first LSD experience. The very first time on acid is too valuable to waste. Anyway, the Acid Test, in its nearly ten presentations has a somewhat different plot each time, but the ending is usually the same - the cops step in. It begins with about three hours of excellent rock and roll music by the "Grateful Dead." The music gets people moving, meeting each other, loosened up, happy, and prepared. 

The Acid Test has many nice tricks. The stroboscopic lights to dance and play under, or merely to stare at, are the best. TV cameras are set up so that you can see what you are doing. Heavy use of reverb and echo on the sound systems give the effect that what is happening is in front, in, and behind you all at once. There's Ron Boise's thunder-sculpture for people to bang on, play with, and get into. Noisemakers are provided for people to click with. They also pass around sugar and serve free koolaid, letting the rumor fly it contains acid. They think people will 'think' themselves into an LSD trip without the drug, but merely by the Test. It's an interesting idea but just will never work. 

Meanwhile on the sidelines, the Pranksters (twenty people dressed in outlandish costumes of incredibly bright colors) are running tape recorders, projectors, and videotape machines. (They recently acquired $15,000 worth of Ampex television equipment.) On stage then comes the "Psychodelic Symphony," one of the most non-psychedelic things going these days. It is four or five Pranksters fiddling with music instruments that were only a few minutes before making excellent rock and roll sounds. The Symphony includes Kesey on his special red-white-&-blue, orange and green electric guitar with harmonica and noise-maker attachment; Ken Babs, Kesey's co-equal in the show, on the electric bass; and Bab's wife Gretchen on the organ. Among others. No one really enjoys them. As if they sense the poor reception, they exeunt quickly. Perhaps comes a little more music, again the "Psychedelic Symphony," and then what is supposed to be the main part of the Acid Test. 

The audio controls are turned over to the Pranksters. These plus lighting effects, colored projections, electronic sounds, plus whatever else comes along, are used in an attempt to induce mood changes and stimulate the participants. The participant is supposed to experience and become aware of an entire set of emotions which should change at a whim. The whim of Kesey and his Pals. From their point of view it seems like experiments with rats in a maze. 

Is this where psychedelics and LSD are at? 

As a whole, it doesn't work. The real act of getting people loose, person to person contact, and mass community is the work of rock and roll music. The Acid Test is at its best as a dance, but once the music stops, it becomes very dull. The primary mood change is one into boredom. The best thing is to plan on an incredibly lively rock and roll dance-show, play with all the toys, enjoy yourself and have fun. When the music stops and it becomes a drag, leave. As for "passing" the Acid Test - forget it. It hasn't passed itself.

(by Mr. Jones, from the "Something's Happening" column, Daily Californian, February 10, 1966)

December 10, 1965: Fillmore Auditorium, SF

LESSON FOR THE S.F. IN THE MIME BENEFIT

The benefit for the San Francisco Mime Troupe Friday night at the Fillmore Auditorium (it was billed as "Appeal II, For Continued Artistic Freedom in the Arts") was a roaring success. Over 3500 people paid $1.50 apiece to be there.
But it was a great deal more than a benefit. It was substantiation of the suspicion that the need to dance on the part of a great number of residents of this area is so great it simply must be permitted.
The Friday night affair was basically a rock 'n roll dance such as the ones the Family Dog put on at the Longshore Hall.
If this city was run for the citizens, such affairs would be commonplace and conducted, say, once a month at the Civic Auditorium where there used to be numerous dances during the swing era.

At 9:30 there was a double line a block long outside the Fillmore Auditorium. At 1 a.m. it was still there, the individuals were new but the packed house still existed.
Inside a most remarkable assemblage of humanity was leaping, jumping, dancing, frigging, fragging and frugging on the dance floor to the music of the half dozen rock bands – the Mystery Trend, the Great Society, the Jefferson Airplane, the VIP's, the Gentlemen's Band, the Warlocks and others. The costumes were freeform Goodwill-cum-Sherwood Forest. Slim young ladies with their faces painted a la Harper's Bazaar in cats-and-dogs lines, granny dresses topped with huge feathers, white levis with decals of mystic design; bell-bottoms split up the side! The combinations were seemingly limitless.
At each end of the huge hall was a three foot high sign saying LOVE. Over the bar was another saying "No Booze," while the volunteer bartenders served soft drinks. Alongside the regular bar was a series of tables selling apples! The only dance (outside of Halloween) I've ever been at where they sold apples, Craaaazy! In a corner past the apple table was a baby in a carriage, sound asleep with a bottle and a teddy bear clutched in his (her?) arms.
This crowd was so far out that when Milton Hunt, the distinguished North Beach boulevardier, entered wearing a serape and a black sombrero and escorting a girl dressed in a Vikki Duggan skirt (cut six inches below the hipline and supported by a thin net top and that's all!) no one turned a hair. It was that kind of a night.
Although it was a benefit for the Mime troupe in its fight against "the law's delay, the insolence of office" to which their handout refers in Shakespearean terms, there were thousands there who never heard of the Mime Troupe or at least never had been to one of their shows, as Ronnie Davis pointed out.
They were there for a multitude of reasons, and the reasons bear examination. Some were there because the Mime Troupe represents, along with Jerry Ets Hotkin, a battle for creativity in the arts. Others, and more I suspect, were there because the Mime Troupe's park use hassle dramatizes another aspect of the struggle of US against THEM.
Still others were there as part of the rock revolution. They don't need booze (as the swing era dancers did). All they need is the sound of the guitars. They get high on decibels alone. And they are hurting to dance.

San Francisco has been hell on dances for years. The police obviously regard mass proximity of the sexes to the sound of music as a hazard equal to a time bomb. But I suspect this attitude will have to be tempered. The actual demand for dances is going to increase. The whole rock revolution points to dancing, the music ineluctably moves one to move.
Another thing about the Friday night revel. There were no guards inside. There was an absence of uniforms and there was no trouble. It was the kind of crowd where over a dozen people stopped dancing, got down on their hands and knees to help a girl find a contact lens that had popped out during a particularly dramatic movement. They scrambled on the dance floor for a few minutes and found it. She cleaned it in her mouth, popped it back in and the dancing continued.
Don't knock the rock, as the British used to say.

(by Ralph Gleason, from the "On the Town" column, SF Chronicle, December 13, 1965)

http://www.goodbear.com/concert_art/12_10_65.html

http://rockarchaeology101.blogspot.com/2010/03/1805-geary-blvd-san-francisco-fillmore.html

January 22, 1971: Lane Community College, Eugene

GRATEFUL DEAD SLATE BENEFIT AT LANE

The Grateful Dead, one of the early San Francisco bands, is scheduled to appear in LCC's main gym Friday, Jan. 22. The dance-concert will start around 8:00 p.m. and end when the Dead (and the people attending) get tired.
The Grateful Dead was one of the first bands to "make it" when the rush for the "San Francisco Sound" began back in 1966-67. Along with the Jefferson Airplane, Country Joe and the Fish, the Sons of Champlain [sic], and a lot of others, they were "discovered," signed by recording companies, and labeled by some as America's answer to the British invasion.
Of the dozens of bands from this area, the Dead is one of the few to survive all the hype putdown by the record companies and music commentators.
The Dead's music has consistently been in the forefront of all the trends of the public. They were psychedelic when no one knew what the word meant, and two albums ago they made a switch to a folk-flavored country-rock sound.
The albums WORKINGMANS DEAD and AMERICAN BEAUTY, on Warners Reprise, best show where the Dead are at right now.
Michael Lydon, in ROLLING STONE, talks of one of the albums: "WORKINGMANS DEAD is just about as good as a record can be. Easy on the ears from the first listening, it gets mellower as it grows on you; a lot of different rhythms but one sure pulse."
Appearing with the Grateful Dead at Lane will be Notary Sojac, a group from Portland.
Approximately 20% of the profits (after expenses) from this dance-concert will go to LCC's student financial aids program, while a larger percentage will go to the Eugene White Bird Clinic.
The Dead's concert at Lane will probably consist of three sets. One of the sets will be acoustic, and will hopefully be, as ROLLING STONE put it for a recent appearance at the Fillmore West, "music soothing to weary hearts and hard-driven minds because it understands that state of mind only too well."
A second set will be more country and western. This set features songs like "Six Days on the Road," and will be performed by the New Riders of the Purple Sage. This group is comprised of members of the Grateful Dead and some friends.
The third set will be the old, semi-psychedelic Dead.
Along with the Dead's three sets and Notary Sojac, there will be a multiple-image slide presentation on Woodstock. It is not known at this time whether this will be shown in conjunction with the Dead's show or in a different room on campus, but it WILL be there.
Tickets for the Dead's concert are $3 - cheap for two good bands and a slide presentation. They will be available at the door and at the Information Desk in the Administration Building at LCC.

(by John Tennis, from the LCC Torch, January 19, 1971)

* * *

DEAD SET FRIDAY DATE

The Grateful Dead - formerly an electric San Francisco legend, lately one of the most laid back bands around - will play in concert at the Lane Community College gymnasium Friday, January 22, at 8:00 p.m. 

Second on the bill will be Portland's Notary Sojac, as well as a series of image films taken at Woodstock. The show is being sponsored by the Bullfrog Information Service (having nothing to do with the Bullfrog rock festival fiascos in Portland a couple of summers ago) with the majority of the profits going to aid White Bird Clinic. 

With the release of their last two albums, "Workingman's Dead" and "American Beauty," the Dead have received increased notoriety across the country. The reason - simply, they seem to have mellowed out quite a bit. 

The Grateful Dead have always been a band for the people, but with the reception of their last two records, they are being accepted more for their music, and less for their reputation. 

The Bullfrog Information Service, rather than being an organization, is a Eugene-based publication with its first issue set to go to press this April. The magazine will be a general format monthly aimed at and about the northwest alternative community. [The magazine is now accepting articles. . . . ] 

"The Grateful Dead," according to publisher Rick Hillman, "is an important part of Eugene history that we feel many people around here are trying to identify with. Kesey is here, the Pranksters are here; The Grateful Dead was just a natural choice."

Benefiting from the profits of the concert will be the White Bird Clinic, an organization set up to cope with the myriad problems people have because of alienation. A spokesman for White Bird points out that the clinic feels an attitude of "coming on" positive is the best way to help alienated people. 

The types of problems White Bird handles range from people bothered by illegally using marijuana to those hung up by society in one way or another. Drug rehabilitation is one aspect of their service, but it is only one problem the clinic deals with. 

Except for a skeleton crew of paid employees, most of the time and work comes from volunteers, and the 30 doctors who offer their time and services do so voluntarily. 

Money for support of the clinic comes in part from federal, state and city grants, but the bulk of money comes from the community, which, as White Bird says, "is where we're at. We hope to reach people on a person-to-person basis, rather than a professional level." 

For an evening of mellowed-out music that will help out some people into really fine things, get your $3.00 tickets and make it out to Lane this Friday. As Jerry Garcia says, "God Damn! I declare - Have you seen the light?" 

(by Steven Smith, from the Oregon Daily Emerald, 22 January 1971)

*

WEEKEND PREVIEW (excerpt from the 1/22/71 Daily Emerald) 

 

"Little need be said respecting the Grateful Dead concert so much publicized of late. There's a fairly detailed news writeup on the Dead gig elsewhere in this section, and we need only append one note to that story, viz. the affair is virtually sold out, and if there are any late-comers who wish to get in at this juncture, they'd be well-advised to get to the dance early. A limited number of tickets are available at the door, but they'll be doled out on a first-come, first-serve basis. Very democratic, really."

*

(from the 1/25/71 Daily Emerald) 

"At Lane Community College Friday night, an oversold, crowded, stuffy, standing-room only (6000-plus people) performance of the Grateful Dead lasted for more than five hours in the packed LCC gym. Jerry Garcia's Dead played country rock until nearly 2 am and was sponsored by White Bird Clinic."

*

CRASHERS MAR DEAD CONCERT

Friday night's Grateful Dead concert packed Lane Community College's gym, but it wasn't oversold, University student Carl Pennington says. 

Pennington, who booked the concert for the fund-raising concert for White Bird Clinic, told the Emerald that of the more than 7000 people attending, approximately 4700 to 4800 paid for the three-dollar tickets. 

More than 200 fake tickets were printed up before the concert and inadvertently accepted at the door, Pennington said. 

LCC's gym doors were crashed soon after the concert began, Pennington added, letting in more than 2300 people for free. 

Jerry Garcia's Dead played for more than five hours until nearly 2 a.m. at the crowded, standing-room only performance.

(from the Oregon Daily Emerald, 26 January 1971)

* * *   

CONCERT "FANTASTIC" - BUT CROWDED
OVER 7,000 ATTEND

I had heard that there would be a lot of people at the Grateful Dead concert Friday night, and that there were only a small number of tickets available, so I got there early to buy one at the door.
Sure enough, there were a lot of people there, and a lot of them were waiting to buy tickets at the door.
Fortunately, though, I was one of the thousands who got in, and I took a seat in the bleachers because I saw that the floor was getting pretty crowded.
After waiting outside for an hour, I wasn't relishing the idea of sitting for another hour.
After amusing myself watching the activities of the crowd for awhile, the concert started with Notary Sojac, who played for about 40 minutes.
They played some nice stuff, which was all their own material. It's rather complex though, and therefore hard to get into. One of the reasons for that might have been their lack of equipment, which made it hard to hear the instruments.
When Sojac's set was over, the lights came on and we got to see each other.
Reports have it that there were over 7,000 people there, and that over a thousand of those crashed their way in, which brings me to my main complaint about the concert. There were just too many people there. I suppose the blame goes to the crashers. A thousand less bodies sure would have been nice.
The New Riders of the Purple Sage were next, and they were great. I didn't have too much time to worry about all the people during this set because the music was so good.
Their set lasted about 40 or 50 minutes, and then we saw the slides and films on Woodstock. They were interesting for awhile, but it became a drag when they were shown over and over.
Another thing that was a drag was the non-stop talking by the crowd. It wasn't cheering anyone on; it was just talking.
Next came the Grateful Dead, and from about 11:30 till 2:00 a.m. the Dead demonstrated why everyone was there.
Their first number was "Casey Jones" and it set the speed for the rest of the night. By the end of that number, everyone was screaming and cheering them on.
It was a fantastic concert, in spite of the things I mentioned above, and should help White Bird Clinic and LCC's financial aids program, which share in the profits.

(by John Tennis, from the LCC Torch, January 26, 1971)

https://web.archive.org/web/20110610214901/http://www.lanecc.edu/archives/GratefulDead.htm 

See also this account of the show, from Notary Sojac's perspective: 

https://web.archive.org/web/20150915201421/http://frankgutchjr.hubpages.com/hub/Notary-Sojac-Dead 

http://archive.org/details/gd71-01-22.sbd.cotsman.12592.sbeok.shnf (partial SBD tape)

1974: Mars Hotel review

UGLY RUMORS FROM THE DEAD

In 1966, in conjunction with the Merry Pranksters and the electric kool-aid acid tests, a band was formed which could express musically what people were experiencing en masse. The band was the Grateful Dead, and its acid-rock sound reflected the development of a west-coast counter culture – marathon concerts fueled by seemingly unquenchable human emotion; relentless, inspired, unpolished jams by imaginative musicians who knew each other so well that the overall sensation imparted by the music was, in fact, largely a product of the group’s oneness; and a relatively small, extremely fanatical following of “Dead Heads”, as much moved by the music as was the band itself.
As years went by, the band became more technically proficient. Lead guitarist Jerry Garcia improved his whiny, unstructured guitar work to the point where he became one of the best American rock ‘n’ roll guitarists; Bob Weir, second guitarist, improved his vocal prowess to the point where he became an extremely capable singer; and Phil Lesh became one of the steadiest bassists around. The Dead’s sound changed, becoming less regional and more widely appreciated. With this appreciation came far more revenue than they had ever before accumulated, which revealed itself in the form of an amazing assemblage of audio equipment, enabling the Dead to have more control over their live sound; it must be realized that one of the Dead’s greatest assets is the ability to exert complete control over their music and, eventually in the course of a 5 or 6 hour concert, their audience.
Perhaps, though, the Dead reached their musical peak during the American tour following release of the Europe ’72 album, for there was a price to be paid for popularity. With recognition came less exclusive attendance at concerts; a new breed of listener emerged who merely liked vibrations. Bowing to the external pressure thus created, a conspicuous metamorphosis occurred in the Dead’s music – it became aimed at pleasing most everyone, not just a few. This evolution manifests itself splendidly in the comparison between the first Dead album, The Grateful Dead, and Wake of the Flood. One listen to each and it is apparent that the energy and improvisation is in the first album, whereas more generally listenable music has been recorded on Wake of the Flood. When Ron McKernan (Pig Pen), the organist-harmonicist who was the Dead’s most blatant link with the drug culture, died of a liver disease in 1973, the final tie was severed. Today, a pianist (Keith Godchaux) and a female vocalist (Donna Godchaux) along with Billy Kreutzmann, the drummer since the Dead’s inception, compose the remainder of the group along with Garcia, Weir, and Lesh.
From the Mars Hotel is the Grateful Dead’s latest album, released this summer. It is an ambitious effort in that it is the third album recorded since the addition of the Godchauxs (the first two were, chronologically, Europe ’72 and Wake of the Flood), and the second album recorded since Pig Pen’s death and the formation of Grateful Dead Records (what money can buy); obviously the attempt is made to achieve the ideal blend of the new Grateful Dead sound with that which is their heritage.
On the album covers, “Ugly Rumors” is disguised magnificently, reminiscent of the ambiguous “American Beauty”-“American Reality” cover of the American Beauty album, and of the more recent cover of Wake of the Flood, in which the portrayed cloud, turned sideways, reveals itself to be a distorted skull, the Dead’s trademark. Musically, the album is generally enjoyable: “Loose Lucy,” ending side one, is an outstanding tune, utilizing Garcia’s exceptional guitar lead and vocals in a manner not unlike vintage Dead. Here also the piano and background female vocals are well employed. “Pride of Cucamonga” and “Unbroken Chain” are the first songs written and sung by Phil Lesh since “Box of Rain” on American Beauty. The latter song is unlike anything ever recorded by the Dead and is particularly interesting in that it marks the first time that the Dead have experimented with the use of a synthesizer; this appears to be the direction Lesh wants the band to go, since of late he has been playing the synthesizer between sets at Grateful Dead concerts. The song leading off side two, “Scarlet Begonias”, is a good, fast paced, Garcia styled number marred only by its conclusion, which features Donna moaning incessantly; occasionally it may be heard on pop AM stations, signifying the more popular, commercial appeal of the Dead these days (previously only “Truckin’” received any AM air time at all).
Inasmuch as it has become standard procedure for the Dead to include one (1) Bob Weir composition per album, it is not surprising that is true for From the Mars Hotel also – “Money” is that contribution. Strained by anachronistic lyrics and an aura also atypical of Dead sound, “Money” is nevertheless a good cut, with Weir singing the type of song he performs best, supported well by the rest of the band, most noticeably Donna. The following song on the album, “Ship of Fools,” is all Jerry Garcia, and, as such, is a moving number much like “Row Jimmy” from Wake of the Flood, Unfortunately, in recent years, the Dead have taken to playing slower and/or more spacey numbers at the expense of abandoning their old energetic sound (contrast the latest concert rendition of “Bertha” with the rendition recorded on the second Live Dead album). Yet “U.S. Blues” (the big single from From the Mars Hotel), an attempt to recapture the past energetics while retaining popular appeal, fails in this endeavor, sounding like “token” Grateful Dead material augmented by Robert Hunter’s inane lyrics.
In all, then, this new Dead album is listenable, sporadically excellent, occasionally disappointing. Yet Dead heads of yore, while probably enjoying this album, will undoubtedly remain partially unsated, since this is certainly not entirely the acid oriented, emotionally charged rock which had been the trademark of the band (oh, to hear “St. Stephen” live just one more time...); indeed while the differences may be subtle, and many may believe them to be improvements, the latest Grateful Dead sound is somehow lacking those qualities which enabled the band to have a major influence on a select few. Rather it appears that horizons (markets?) have expanded and a lessened influence on the many is now desired, at the expense of the almost legendary, tight cultism which once presided over Grateful Dead concerts and albums.

(by Mitchell Lazar, from the MIT Tech, October 15, 1974)

http://tech.mit.edu/V94/PDF/N39.pdf (p.9)

April 2, 1973: Boston Garden

THE DEAD – GRATEFULLY ALIVE

The Grateful Dead are enough to restore your faith in rock ‘n’ roll. In a time when, more than ever, the popular performers depend on gimmick more than talent, the Dead continue to be succesful by producing good music that is fun to listen to.
The Dead, along with the New Riders of the Purple Sage, were at Boston Garden on Monday, April 2. To paraphrase Janis Joplin, they sure turned a bunch of freaks into a party. The crowd of 16,000-plus was totally captured. There was none of the implied satanism of the Stones or the sexual ambivalence of David Bowie, just a couple of bands and a lot of people having a good time.
The New Riders opened things up, doing nearly two hours of their country-rock standards and a few new songs. One thing they’ve picked up is the old Motown hit “Take A Letter Maria.” Not many groups could pull that off and make it sound respectable. Marmaduke and company did. Other more familiar songs were “I Don’t Know You,” “Louisiana Lady,” and “Last Lonely Eagle” off the first album; “Truck Drivin’ Man,” “Rainbow,” “I Don’t Need No Doctor,” and “Willie and the Hand Jive” from the second; and “Sutter’s Mill” and “Groupie” from their latest effort.
Particularly worthy of note was Buddy Cage, who did a fine job on pedal steel guitar. His addition made the New Riders independent of the Dead, as Jerry Garcia was no longer needed on pedal steel. Cage has proven himself to be, along with Poco’s Rusty Young, among the best on the instrument.
The last few weeks had not been good ones for the Grateful Dead; singer Ron “Pigpen” McKernan died from a combination of liver and kidney problems – too much booze – and guitarist Garcia was busted in New Jersey for possession of marijuana, cocaine, etc., on his way to a Springfield concert date. If the Dead were down, though, they didn’t show it. The only indication of Garcia’s latest run-in with the law was the absence of “Truckin’” from the program.
When the Dead lift songs, they do it with class. Their opening number was Chuck Berry’s “The Promised Land.” Other borrowed songs were Kris Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee” and John Phillips’ “Me and My Uncle.”
One change within the band has been the emergence of Bob Weir as a songwriter and singer. He did two songs from his solo album, Ace, and more of the new songs than Garcia. Weir also did a flawless job on rhythm guitar. The Dead performed a surprising amount of new material – most of the second set was unfamiliar.
The older songs were a mix from just about all the periods the Dead have gone through: “Beat It On Down the Line” from their first album, “China Cat Sunflower and I Know You Rider,” also oldies redone in a medley, and quite a few songs from Grateful Dead and Europe ’72. Phil Lesh also got a chance to sing his “Box of Rain” from American Beauty, which, unfortunately did not come across as well electric.
Lesh was shortchanged by the poor acoustics of the Boston Garden, as was pianist Keith Godchaux. Neither could be heard clearly, at least from where I was sitting. Keith’s wife Donna helped out with the singing, and did one lead vocal on a new song. Unfortunately, the lyrics of it and many other new pieces were unintelligible, thanks to the low quality of the sound.
Probably the best thing the Dead played was an extended “Playing in the Band.” Garcia’s solo was the best he played all night, and possibly the most powerful lead I have ever heard him do. As far as audience reaction, the big winners were the closing sequence of “Sugar Magnolia,” one of their best songs, and “Casey Jones,” which crashed forward hypnotically for ten minutes before reaching its climax.
Although no encore was apparently planned, the band had little choice as the crowd, hardly thinned at 1:45 am, stood on their seats and lit matches, screaming for more. And they got more – “Johnny B. Goode,” and the beautiful a capella “We Bid You Goodnight,” the perfect ending to a fine show.

(by Ken Davis, from the MIT Tech, April 27, 1973)

http://tech.mit.edu/V93/PDF/N20.pdf (p.8)

http://archive.org/details/gd73-04-02.sbd.miller.17346.sbeok.shnf

May 6-7, 1970: MIT, Cambridge

Tuesday, May 5, 1970 - from the MIT Tech:

RALLY ENDORSES STRIKE CALL

Well over 1500 members of the MIT community, most of them students, voted overwhelmingly yesterday to strike “in solidarity with the national university strike.” Even before the afternoon rally got underway, 1300 students had jammed Kresge... What practical effect the strike call will have remains uncertain...

UNIVERSITY STRIKE

The vote in Kresge yesterday afternoon was overwhelmingly in favor of a "university strike" for an indefinite length of time.
The Tech supports the concept of a university strike, and we call on MIT as a community to suspend its normal activities for a period of time to allow people the opportunity to signify their rejection of President Nixon's Asian policies and to actively work towards ending the war in Southeast Asia. We favor a massive canvassing effort intended to motivate people in the community to write their congressmen indicating their opposition to the war; to actively support peace candidates in November's elections; and to continually work in peace activities...
We call on the MIT faculty to meet Wednesday afternoon and suspend classes for the rest of the week...

* * *

Wednesday, May 6, 1970:

STRIKE! FACULTY CANCELS CLASSES

Schedule of Events
Following is a schedule of events planned for today in connection with the strike and protest of the Indochina war:

6 am onward – leaflets and canvassing information will be available in the Student Center West Lounge for use in canvassing factories.
12 noon – Humanities Department Meeting.
12 noon – Meeting of interested MIT employees in Walker Memorial.
1 pm – mass meeting in Kresge.
2 pm – There will NOT be a free concert by the Grateful Dead today.

http://tech.mit.edu/V90/PDF/N23.pdf

* * *

Tuesday, May 12, 1970:

(excerpt from "The Strike!: Fantasies?," by Michael Feirtag)

The Grateful Dead played better (in this opinion, at least) Wednesday at the free concert. Thursday night’s paying attendance was largely highly energized strikers; the Dead played hard rock for dancing purposes. Wednesday, the audience’s kinetic energy was damped by the cold, the music was for listening, and hence better.
Wednesday. The sky an airbrushed blue-grey cloud cover, like a cheesy mural in a Howard Johnson’s. The Dead behind a gaggle of microphones, behind them two eight-foot coffin woofers, clusters of speaker horns.
Twenty or thirty people form a chain, whipping through the closely grouped crowd, looking like...like what? A ribosome, a chain of procreation dancing across a living cell, or Death leading his dancing subjects?
Grateful Dead?
Inane metaphors.

http://tech.mit.edu/V90/PDF/N25.pdf

* * *

Monday, May 11, 1970:

GRADES, CLASSES OPTIONAL

PROFS BACK 'FLEXIBILITY'
Agreeing...that "academic activities cannot continue in normal fashion," the faculty yesterday voted far-reaching changes in policy for the remainder of the term... Students doing "satisfactory" work before May 4 are eligible for a "pass" grade, with full academic credit, whether or not they continue work in the course.
As at the last meeting Tuesday, sentiment on the motion was all but unanimous... The vote was overwhelming - of the 700 faculty that jammed Kresge, only 14 or 15 voted no.

STRIKE EFFORT STILL STRONG
The national university/student strike begins its second week today with over 300 schools on strike against the war in Indochina...

http://tech.mit.edu/V90/PDF/N24.pdf

http://archive.org/details/gd70-05-06.sbd.gans.94.sbefail.shnf
http://archive.org/details/gd1970-05-07.aud.sirmick.32276.sbeok.flac16

1969: Live/Dead vs. Beethoven

LIVE/DEAD/FREAKY

In the early 1960’s, the Merry Pranksters discovered LSD. The Pranksters, a band of heads led by novelist Ken Kesey, proceeded to use the mind-gronking micrograms in the worst way – they invited the youth of Los Angeles, feckless, footloose, or just L.A. freaky, to an Acid (hee hee) Test, spiked the Kool Aid with the ol’ mind expander, and ad-libbed from there.
After all, once you’ve smashed in the door of perception, you can’t just stand there in the infinite. You’ve got to learn how to live under these new conditions, with your synapses agog, and your Mind slobbering on the cosmos. If you can bring together the energy of hundreds of individuals in one monster collective Trip, and live to tell, you’ve graduated.
And so it was that, on February 12, 1966, in a Youth Opportunity Center warehouse in, of all places, Watts, while scores of minds merged into one Mind, a girl sat on the floor and freaked out. They gave her a microphone. It was all part of the Trip...
...including the band that played the accompaniment to all this. Equipped with more variable-lag tape-recorders, feedback-equipment, and amplifiers than had ever been seen before, all paid for by Owsley, the Charles Pfizer of lysergic acid diethylamide, the band was the Grateful Dead. The music they played was to become known as acid rock.
Along with the music came a new criterion for judging music. Since the Dead’s music was supposed to whip the mind into the consistency of butterscotch pudding, the sounds were deemed to be good if they raped the listener’s head, and catalyzed spaced-outedness.

Was all this so new? How far back does drug-inspired music, or, more generally, freaky music go?
Berlioz billed his Symphonie Fantastique as an opium vision. Scriabin meant his music to be accompanied by light shows, although his Poem of Ecstasy is tepid (to be kind) in fulfilling the orgasmic promise of its title. Liszt turned out a Death-Dance, Rachmaninoff an Isle of the Dead, Geminiani an Enchanted Forest way back.
But these are obvious cases. If you go through the Schwann catalog, you can come up with quite a few freaky titles to pieces of music that are often little better than lousy. A freaky title does not a freaky piece of music make.
However, we are ignoring music that, in emotion or in spirit, rather than merely in name or “program,” turns out to be freaky. In fact, a great deal of classical music evokes moods that are unusual, grotesque, weird, or downright bizarre. Some is mystical. And even the most moving, profound of music sometimes, in strange ways, verges on freakiness.

If music is the highest form of artistic expression, and art the noblest human endeavor, then Beethoven is the greatest human being this earth has seen thus far. He is the greatest freak as well.
From the Scherzo of the Seventh (the walk through the catacombs), to the entrance of the tenor in (O Heresy!) the Ninth (sounding like a syncopated interior decorator, backed by tam-tam and garbage-can covers, as he sings of universal brotherhood), to his last composition, the Sixteenth String Quartet, whose final movement was inspired by the tone and inflection of his landlady’s voice, demanding the rent. Beethoven wrote grotesqueries, put-ons, and produced some of the freakiest, in the sense of macabre and/or sardonic, moods ever heard.
The Eighth Symphony is possibly the freaky Beethoven at his most obvious: the bassoon is unable to do more than croak out octaves, the Scherzo’s tick-tick-tick rhythm is a hack on the newly invented metronome, the symphony refuses to conclude, going through five or six false endings, a misplaced coda, and finally stopping at a beat which is not entirely satisfying.
But this is the way Beethoven composed in general, carrying theme inversions, key changes, and false finishes to an extent so far above ordinary playing-with-thematic-material that his pieces are practical jokes on the performers and the audience.
And yet, these hacks are, paradoxically and simultaneously, the most profound, transcendental statements ever made by man. The later in Beethoven’s work one looks, the more obvious it becomes that this greatest of artists wrote cosmic jokes, tried in his music to evoke the greatest, deepest, most moving emotions in his listeners, and then punt them.
For those who doubt, consider this reminiscence by Carl Czerny in Cock’s London Musical Miscellany of August 2, 1852, describing the piano technique of Beethoven at a mere 26 years old: “His improvisation was most brilliant and striking. In whatever company he might chance to be, he knew how to produce such an effect upon every hearer that frequently not an eye remained dry, while many would break out into loud sobs; for there was something wonderful in his expression in addition to the beauty and originality of his ideas and his spirited way of rendering them. After ending an improvisation of this kind he would burst into loud laughter and banter his hearers on the emotion he had caused in them. ‘You are fools!’ he would say.”

It may be freaky in some sense to arouse deep metaphysical and emotional states and then hack them, but, to say the least, Beethoven and Grace Slick are not freaky in the same way.
Any analogies drawn in trying to compare freaky rock and freaky classical are necessarily loose, especially since so much rock is more mind-flattening than mind-bending. Rock musicians do it mainly by battering the chemically altered head into submission via sheer volume, screams, and reverberation (i.e. by sensory overload); very little research goes into discovering what varieties of sound other than “loud” and “electronic” are freaky. Rock may have discovered a few freaky noises, but has yet to come up with a freaky melody line, for instance, with the possible exception of Frank (Those Kids Wouldn’t Know Music If It Bit Them In The Ass) Zappa.
And it is on these grounds of freaky musicianship versus freaky noise that, even if Beethoven’s perverse sense of humor is far from the current vogue in freakiness, something like Solti’s reading of Bartok’s Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta should have it, in subtle freakiness although certainly not in decibels, over Pink Floyd, Airplane, et al, for anyone with half an ear. And for grosser effects, Berg’s Wozzeck, a paranoid opera, ravishes the listener...
...which brings us back to the Grateful Dead, and, in particular, Live/Dead (Reprise), their new album (finally, a record review). There is no mind flattening by way of sound level. Even “Feedback” on side four is subdued.
Yet the album is really excellent. The two records contain seven cuts, all almost entirely instrumental, which is fine seeing that none of them can sing well. At first, they sound like pleasant enough improvisations – rambling, ever so slightly disjointed, rarely what a rock listener would call loud. Certainly not freaky in the sense of Pink Floyd.
With a bit of time they metamorphose into subtle experiments in freakiness, with feedback and reverb gently intruding into the listener’s consciousness.
Surviving the Acid Test has improved the Dead’s music (although their chromosomes have yet to be heard from). The numbing tendency of the acid rock of the past might be lessening as freakiness moves, albeit with the swiftness of a glacier, towards the sophistication of Beethoven, and the compositions of what he himself termed his “Unbuttoned Period.”

(by Michael Feirtag and Rex Begonia, from the MIT Tech, February 10 1970)

http://tech.mit.edu/V90/PDF/N1.pdf

Here is the tape of the girl freaking out at the Acid Test:
http://archive.org/details/gd1966-02-12.sbd.bershaw.9515.shnf

1968: Anthem of the Sun review #2

GRATEFUL DEAD – A WINNER

For those of you who haven’t heard, “Anthem of the Sun” is an unusual record. It brings to mind such past hits as “Sergeant Pepper” and the Electric Prunes “Mass in F Minor.” Basically, the structure of the record comes across as a mini-opera, with individual numbers having distinctions only in the ears of the listener. There is literally no separation, either on the grooves or in the sound. However, the changes can be heard, even if only gradually. The record can be termed a cross between a jam and composed playing – it often seems as if the group will start with a score, and gradually ignore it more and more, occasionally losing the listener in the process.
Side one is made up of three numbers. The first, “That’s It for the Other One” is divided into three sections: Cryptical Envelopment, Quadlibet for Tenderfeet, and The Faster We Go, the Rounder We Get. These three sections are rather self-descriptive. The first might be described as an addictive process, in which the record rather gets you hooked. After that, you proceed through the beginner’s stage, to the basic message, which is that the group gets rounder (less square) the faster they get. However, there can be too much of a good thing, as is demonstrated when the end of the number (which is not particularly defined as such) dissolves into a gray fog of sound, utterly without form or meaning.

The second and third number (New Potato Caboose and Born Cross-Eyed) are much in the same vein. The former is a blending of jazz and hard rock, not at all unpleasant. Born Cross-Eyed has a freer form than rock allows for. It is interesting to note that the beat remains the same throughout side one (except in the cases when it disappears completely), but the tune and form changes. The end of side one is one of the few points on the record where the group resorts to singing, however, even the words (“Seems like I’ve been here before”) take the listener back to the beginning of the side, to listen to it all again in about a one-minute space.

Side two is primarily devoted to Alligator, a cut which is an excellent combination of instrumental and vocal phrases. The outstanding part of this is the intermittent kazoo solos which keep cropping up at various places. Basically, the words are a southern blues song made up of anecdotes about alligators, then set to a rock beat. Once again, the group does not feel constrained by either the music or the beat, however. This time, as the tune evaporates, it leaves a series of jungle calls, indicative of the theme of the cut. Alligator, despite its length and depth, tends to be somewhat boring at times. This is especially noticeable in the section of the record immediately following the jungle calls. If there is variation in this segment, it is too small for the equipment the record was being played on to pick up.

One good reason for putting up with this is the guitar work between Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir which immediately follows this, which is some of the best to be found anywhere. Then is a section which is essentially the word “alligator” alternating between the two sides of the stage. This comes through as might be expected on a stereo system.
The second cut on this side is Caution (Do Not Stop on the Tracks). The drum becomes a train, and the story line (the only time this occurs on the album) is about a fellow who consults a gypsy about his girl. However, this rapidly disappears, and moves into another formless mass.
Basically, this album represents a step forward in the total record world. It is definitely one which should be on the shelves of fans of the West Coast sound.

(by Tony Lima, from the MIT Tech, October 11 1968)

http://tech.mit.edu/V88/PDF/N35.pdf (p.6)

Late 1967: San Francisco Bands & Jefferson Airplane

TALKING ROCK [MAY 1967]

The most important recent happening in rock is the national emergence of San Francisco's Jefferson Airplane and to a lesser extent the Grateful Dead. The following two-part report on the Bay area scene is based to a large extent on comments by Friscan Larry White, editor of Innisfree and personal friend of several of the Airplane.
Jefferson Airplane has had two albums and five singles on RCA. They have been big in SF for somewhat over a year but only their most recent single 'Somebody to Love' and album 'Surrealistic Pillow' have given them the national prominence they deserve. Both are 44 and rising rapidly on their respective Billboard charts, but this doesn't begin to measure their Boston popularity, with 'Pillow' one of the Coops' best selling albums and their fabulous two-week Unicorn sellout.

'Surrealistic Pillow' has the same basic sound as their first album, 'Jefferson Airplane Takes Off,' a folk-based sound with a message of love and beautifully interwoven patterns of guitar runs. However, 'Pillow' is a better album for two reasons. First, the production is much better. On the first album at many points, the instruments don't blend together as they do in person and the vocals at many points seem watered-down. Compare 'White Rabbit' on 'Pillow' with any of the cuts on 'Takes Off' and the difference is apparent. The producers are different on the albums, Matthew Katz and Tommy Oliver on the first, Rick Jarrard on the second. Apparently RCA realized that the Airplane required more than run-of-the-mill producers. Dave Hassinger is the engineer on both; he has also engineered such Stones' material as 'Satisfaction.'

The second reason for improvement is personnel changes. The group is composed of a male and female singer switching lead, two guitars, bass, and drums. Between albums female singer and drummer were switched, both for the better. Signe Anderson, original vocalist, dropped out of the group after she discovered she was giving her husband their second child. Grace Slick became the new female vocalist after being with the Great Society, a now-disbanded, but then excellent, Frisco group. Even before she joined the Airplane, 'Crawdaddy' had described her as "the single most talented woman in San Francisco's performing rock scene." Her soprano solos on 'White Rabbit' and 'Somebody to Love' are fantastic; when seeing her perform them you realize how she gets the sound she does - she really feels the music. She wrote 'White Rabbit' and brought 'Somebody to Love' over from the Great Society where her brother Darby had written it. The Great Society, the rest of whom are now studying music in India, recorded 'Somebody to Love' first.
The original drummer was Skip Spence. He was really a guitar player, not a drummer, but Marty Balin, the lead singer and writer of most of the material, liked his looks and overall musical ability. The Airplane is practically a personal project of Marty's; he also handpicked Paul Kantner, rhythm guitar and backup vocalist. Anyhow Skip became tired of playing drums so he quit the group and formed Moby Grape, now one of Frisco's top five bands. Spence Dryden became the new drummer and is a real drummer.

The two members not mentioned yet are Jack Casady, bass, and Jorma Kaukonen, lead guitar. They have been friends since childhood and were in with Marty in the forming of the group. Casady's bass is the most imaginative in rock'n'roll. Listen to 'Let Me In' on the first album for runs which seem like they're never going to stop. When you listen to any Airplane material turn the whole thing up loud, but turn the bass up a little louder than you normally would. You'll see just what Casady does that was lacking in earlier rock. Jorma's lead guitar is equally brilliant; it intermingles beautifully with the vocals, sometimes highlighting them, sometimes mimicking them, sometimes performing very appropriate runs. "Jefferson Airplane" was Jorma's nickname before it became the group's name.

Jefferson Airplane was formed nearly two years ago by former folk singer Marty Balin, who had long been interested in rock. He more or less handpicked the members and then began long hours of practice. Marty wrote love music - he injected real love into his words and music. It may lack the sheer poetry of Paul Simon's lyrics, but his words are far above those of standard rock 'n' roll, in maturity and in feeling.
They moved first to the local discotheques and dance halls. They became firmly enmeshed with the psychedelic scene and then moved on to Fillmore Auditorium, SF's top dance place, managed by Bill Graham, founder of the kind of printing you read at two words per minute. Their first single was 'It's No Secret' and it didn't even make it in Frisco. It wasn't the record's fault - it was one of their best efforts - they just weren't well enough known and the people weren't ready for it. Their second, third, and fourth singles all made it into SF's top five but didn't do much elsewhere. These were 'Come Up the Years,' 'Bringin' Me Down,' and 'My Best Friend.' By this spring word was beginning to spread, enlightened disc jockeys were playing their records, and they were touring the East at places like Cafe au Go Go and the Unicorn. Then both 'Somebody to Love' and 'Surrealistic Pillow' caught on...
Good possibilities for their next single include 'White Rabbit,' a solo by Grace which builds all the way with clever words interpreting "Alice in Wonderland" as a drug story, and 'Today,' a beautiful song sung by Marty in a soft style somewhat reminiscent of Gene Pitney with thundering echoing percussion and a compelling rhythm.

San Francisco has spawned many great groups because of its position as center for migration of potentially-great-musician hippies and because the audiences require more musical sophistication than in other markets. The Grateful Dead is another band which has been around SF for 5 years (originally as the Warlocks). Their album is beginning to sell well at the Coop but has not yet cracked Billboard's charts. They are more closely connected with the hippie scene than is the Airplane and have received much magazine publicity in this respect. Despite their hair (the longest I've seen - especially pop heroes PigPen, organist, and lead guitarist Jerry "Captain Trips" Garcia) they are no joke; they have a fantastic blues-oriented sound.
Their album does not do them justice; most of their 10-15 minute (when live) songs are cut down to 2 1/2 minutes and they don't have time to develop. Some of these shortened tunes are reminiscent of Love, Butterfield Blues Band, or the Blues Project. However, once one listens to 'Morning Dew' or 'Viola Lee Blues,' he forgets the mediocrity of the rest. The former is a beautiful 5-minute electric rendition of the folk-blues classic, while the latter, 10 minutes long, is the Dead at their best, twice building from a slow blues vocal to a wild instrumental climax.

Eleven top Frisco groups are good friends and often work together. Jerry Garcia of the Dead played with the Plane on some of 'Surrealistic Pillow.' The Airplane, Dead, and Quicksilver Messenger Service, an excellent Frisco band that hasn't yet recorded, performed together at a gala New Year's Eve party at Fillmore Auditorium. Moby Grape was formed by the Airplane's original drummer and is now probably number 3 in SF - in six months, too.
The Sopwith Camel, of 'Hello Hello' fame, is San Francisco's good time band and they are good in this bag. Because they aren't so closely connected with psychedelic sound as the others, I do not connect them with the Bay Area so much, but they are a bona fide SF group. The Chocolate Watchband is a good but still local group who will soon have a part in a movie about what's going on in San Fran. Country Joe and the Fish is a good blues band who have a very worthwhile extended play record available at the Coop. The 13th Floor Elevator had a great hard rock single 'You're Gonna Miss Me' that made it in many areas of the East last summer.
All considered, there are many bands which would be great anywhere else though they are only 'just another drop' in Frisco. The Airplane's phenomenal growth spells promise for the rest even though they are not quite up to the Airplane's level of greatness.

(by Don Davis, from the MIT Tech, May 2 & May 5 1967)

http://tech.mit.edu/V87/PDF/N22.pdf (p.6)
http://tech.mit.edu/V87/PDF/N23.pdf (p.6-7)


* * * * *


TALKING ROCK [OCTOBER 1967]

The following letter was received from Jim Stone '69, in San Jose, California on a co-op course!

Dear Steve,
You asked for some news of the Bay Area scene, so here it is.

Top local groups
Big Brother and the Holding Company are the biggest group around SF now, but supposedly they're not long for this world. I talked to Peter Pan, the sound man at the Avalon Ballroom. He says that Janis Joplin, the group's powerhouse singer, is on an ego trip and the group is pretty unsettled.
Another big group is the Steve Miller Blues Band - acid-rock blues. They were a feature at the Avalon quite often this summer. The Avalon, run by the Family Dog, is a better place than the Fillmore.
Bill Graham, who runs the Fillmore, is far from being a hippie, so the old-timers go to the Avalon, leaving the Fillmore more for teeny-boppers and tourists. The Fillmore, however, generally has bigger name acts.
One group from SF, the Blue Cheer, has three members and divides 11 (that's eleven) amplifiers between two of them. They aren't as musical as some of the other groups, but they have quite a powerful effect.

National groups
The Airplane has gone national and commercial, but they still put in an appearance when they're around.
The Grateful Dead got busted about two weeks ago - a pound of grass and some hash in their place on Haight Street - so they're out for a while.
Incidentally, the last time the Doors played the Fillmore this summer, their lead singer was so stoned he just lay down on the stage and refused to sing. The fans voiced their disapproval so he threw his microphone into the crowd. They probably won't play the Fillmore much now.
Butterfield's new band is missing something without Bloomfield, but they're still one of the best blues groups around. When I saw them, they had a trumpet and a sax player, along with the usual sidemen.
Mark Naftalin stays in the background most of the time, leaving the spotlight to Butterfield himself, but when he comes on with a keyboard solo, he really works out. Rumor has it that Bloomfield's Electric Flag was busted while they were in LA for a gig.

Groups outside SF
A group to watch with a lot of talent is Canned Heat. Also from LA is Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band. Their 'Safe as Milk' album should be good.
Captain Beefheart puts out some groovy acid music - he really has a strange voice. I saw them and the Buddy Guy Blues Band at the Avalon last Saturday. Buddy Guy is groovy blues, Chicago style - all spades.
A New York group that's been popular here is the Vanilla Fudge. Their style is unique, and if they ever do an album of original songs, it should be great.
Also watch another British group called the Pink Floyd. Charlie Musselwhite's Sound System is a good blues group to watch. Musselwhite used to get sideman billing with Barry Goldberg's old band. I guess you know that Goldberg is with the Electric Flag these days.

Happenings outside SF
Moving south to Santa Clara county, the big club is the Continental Ballroom, and the big groups are the Chocolate Watchband and Mother Flower's Medicine Wagon. Moby Grape is number one in Marin county, but that's a long way from here. Country Joe is big in Berkeley.
I'm involved in starting a club in Fresno, and will let you know about it.
Tonight I'm going to the Avalon to see Van Morrison (lead singer with the late, great Them) and the Daily Flash (whose drummer quit to join the Byrds and whose lead guitarist Doug Hastings is now with the Buffalo Springfield in Neil Young's place). Last weekend the Noth American Ibis Alchemical Company Light Show put on its last performance at the Avalon - and it was fantastic.
See ya,
Stone

P.S.: I spent some time with the Yardbirds when they were here - they remembered me.

(from Steve Grant's column in the MIT Tech, October 27 1967)

http://tech.mit.edu/V87/PDF/N40.pdf (p.8)


* * * * *


AIRPLANE TAKES OFF, KEEPS ON FLYING [DECEMBER 1967]

“Fly Jefferson Airplane – get you there on time” – so sang the Jefferson Airplane about themselves, the first group of the current acid-rock genre. Last Saturday night the Airplane really flew – to unprecedented heights – in two sets at Back Bay Theatre.

Adhering to their well-known songs in the first set, the group rocked on their hit singles “Somebody to Love,” “White Rabbit,” and their recent “Ballad of You and Me and Pooneil,” a definitive statement by lead guitarist Jorma Ludwik Kaukonen on what can be done with feedback. This ten-minute rendition was rather different from their single recording of the song, and much more experimental and improvised.
Although vocalist Grace Slick has gained considerable acclaim for her writing and singing, her performance was disappointing. On both performances of her “White Rabbit” she seemed bored with the song, as though she felt obliged to sing it only because it was a hit single. Marty Balin, the group’s leader, also seemed forced on “Today” in both sets.
The outstanding performer was easily guitarist Kaukonen. In past performances he has had a smooth, powerful style of soloing which he enlarged upon Saturday night with his new feedback techniques. The highlights of the evening were easily “Rock Me, Baby,” a slow blues piece which Kaukonen also sang, and the two renditions of “Ballad of You and Me and Pooneil,” which is probably the first rock song with a solo on electric bass. Jack Casady handled this superbly. These two performers form the basis for the most exciting instrumental sound in rock today.

Except for the few mind freaks, the audience seemed a bit baffled by the lack of familiar songs, especially during the second set. This reaction was unfortunate. The Airplane, as a growing group of musicians, have deserted their popular straight style for something they consider better. Hopefully they will continue to progress musically, and the results should remain some of the most worthwhile in pop music.

(by Steve Grant, from the MIT Tech, December 5 1967)

http://tech.mit.edu/V87/PDF/N50.pdf

December 8, 1967: Psychedelic Supermarket, Boston

“Making the Scene” ad from the MIT Tech paper, 12/5/67:

The Grateful Dead will bring more of the acid-rock sound to Boston. Featuring the noted blues guitarist Jerry Garcia and organist-folk hero Pigpen, they will play from 9 pm til Midnight this Friday and Saturday at the Psychedelic Supermarket, 590 Commonwealth Ave. They have had a single in “The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion)” and a successful album.

* * *

TALKING ROCK

The Grateful Dead, one of the current popular San Francisco Bay area groups to make it big nationally, made their Boston debut Friday night at the Psychedelic Supermarket. The most impressive thing about their sets was the personal involvement and rapport they had with the audience. If there is one characteristic besides the geographical that the San Francisco groups have in common, it is this genuine warmth, openness, and just plain friendliness: the idea that “we love you.” In a conversation between sets, guitarist and group leader Jerry “Captain Trips” Garcia reflected this musical philosophy.

Musical friendships
Garcia is generally recognized as one of the four or five best rock guitarists. He and the amorphous object known only as Pigpen form the nucleus of the group. (Pigpen’s real name, according to Dead guitarist Bob Weir, is “Hogg Corrall – two g’s, two l’s.”) The group has also had two drummers for two months now. The whole group are good friends with all the Bay Area groups, going back to the time when they were all starving on the streets together. For example, Garcia is very close to Jorma Kaukonen and Jack Casady of the Jefferson Airplane, as well as Big Brother and the Holding Company’s Janis Joplin, who along with Pigpen is SF’s number one poster idol, and whom Garcia calls “the best chick blues singer there is.”

Contact with audience
Disappointed that the audience sat and listened rather than danced during the first set, they opened the second show with a freely improvised half-hour version of “In the Midnight Hour,” which included bits of “Get On Up” and other songs. Mr. Ross Laver, who runs things at the Supermarket, said, “I’ve been trying to get people to dance for two months, and this is the first time it’s happened. It’s great.”

Recording history
The Dead’s performance live is completely distinct from that on their Warner Brothers album. Their songs, which average ten to fifteen minutes in person, were cut, except for “Viola Lee Blues,” to lengths compatible with the usual LP format. For this reason they will probably never have a hit single, although they put out “The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion”/”Cream Puff War” last spring. They are scheduled to release another single in February, and a new album, which will contain live tracks, in March.

(by Steve Grant, from the MIT Tech, December 12 1967)

http://tech.mit.edu/V87/PDF/N52.pdf (p.6)

These Psychedelic Supermarket shows are not in Deadlists, but here is one article about their discovery:
http://lostlivedead.blogspot.com/2009/11/december-8-9-1967-psychedelic.html