Wednesday, August 27, 2008


Take Note, Martinez for August 28, 2008

Taking (Wood)Stock of the Best Festival Movie Ever Made
"What we have here is breakfast in bed for 400,000. . ."
Wavy Gravy

Yes, I'm a boomer and yes, I'm sick to death of the whole boomer franchise, too. It doesn't help that the ads directed at people in my demographic now involve adult diapers, medical remedies for things you don't even want to know about, and bathtubs with doors so you don't fall and break your hip. I'm proud of the legacy of street demonstrations, cultural redefinition, and the embracing of tolerance and peace (radical notions back then, young ones). These things were, in my view, in the very best American traditions, particularly in light of the fact that they were so strongly opposed by those with the power and the weapons. But then there was the surplus of superficiality, that annoying sense of entitlement, and relentless marketing (which pursues us today – see above).

But one boomer product is definitely worth taking a look at: the movie Woodstock. Next year is the 40th anniversary of this festival, in which 500,000 young people gathered unexpectedly on a farm in upstate New York to see a three-day lineup of the day's biggest musical names. No, I wasn't at the festival, but when the movie came out, I was at the Orinda Theater 50 times (I counted) to see this astounding musical lineup. I remember getting into a pretty loud argument with the manager of the Walnut Creek multi-screen theater where 'Woodstock' was playing, along with 'Patton.' 'Woodstock' was rated R, for nudity and drug use, while 'Patton' was rated PG, for lots of scenes of death and destruction. Ah, those were the days. . .

Movie note: one of the cameramen and editors for this movie is a young Martin Scorsese. He would go on to make many other R rated movies.

So, the music:

The festival and the film gets kicked off by toothless guitarist Richie Havens, a percussive guitarist and folk singer in a dashiki, who turns in a great set, and chats to the crowd while changing a broken string. A great beginning.
Joan Baez, the queen of folk singers and former girlfriend to Bob Dylan, is six months pregnant at Woodstock, and her husband is in jail for draft evasion. She sings the union anthem Joe Hill, and a very unfortunate acapella version of Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.

So much for the folkies -- bring on the rock. The Who storm the stage with a fury and frenzy you can only achieve when Keith Moon is your drummer and John Entwistle is your bass player. Pete Townsend is leaping and windmilling his guitar arm, Roger Daltrey is swinging his microphone and screaming deliciously about Tommy, and the kids (all 500,000 of 'em) are all right. Townsend hated playing at Woodstock, but you'd never know it from his performance. This is the first appearance, by the way, of a performer with long leather fringe, in the form of Daltrey's vest. This was a signature look in the early 70s, and Woodstock is the reason why.

Can I pass on Sha Na Na? 1969 was not the year for 50s nostalgia bands. They're ok, but fast forward to Joe Cocker singing the Beatle song "With A Little Help From My Friends." Not many Americans knew who Joe Cocker was in 1969, but when the film came out in 1970, this spasmodic Ray Charles sound-alike was among those who became quite famous as a result of his one performance here. And no one but Joe had the guts to take on a song from Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in 1969. The seminal album was only two years old at that point, and sacred.

Country Joe and the Fish lead everyone in the Fish Cheer, which involves spelling the F bomb and dropping it several times – nothing like half a million people all shouting it at once.

More folk songs in the form of the charming but very stoned Arlo Guthrie, the newly-formed Crosby, Stills and Nash, and the remarkable but out-of-it John Sebastian. All these performers are legendary, but these particular sets prove that drugs do not enhance talent.

Ah, but then. . . Ten Years After. Guitarist Alvin Lee lights up the night with his incendiary guitar work on "I'm Going Home," and for the rest of his career is known for nothing else. A young Bay Area band, Santana, turns in a fiery set that instantly makes Carlos Santana a star that continues rising to this day. And another Bay Area band, Sly and the Family Stone, are absolutely delightful, funky, scary and amazing at Woodstock, though Sly would not long afterward succumb to the ravages of hard drugs. But here he is at the top of his game, and few are able to touch him.

But the last performer in the film, as at the festival, stands on stage with a white Fender Stratocaster, and though there is a band with him, he seems alone. Jimi Hendrix says goodbye to us all, and to the era, with his Woodstock performance (he would die next year due to incompetent medical response, not, as the myth would have it, a drug overdose). Jimi jams for a while, then presents what has to be the most searing, heart wrenching version of the Star Spangled Banner ever performed. His guitar provides the rockets, the screams, and the passion of a great nation's history. It must be heard, it cannot be described.

So there it is, kids. Watch a very expensive home movie about your parents' generation, and enjoy some of their finest musical moments. Just try not to roll your eyes when your mom and dad tear up.