I was raised on Classical music, except for the crooning and big band stuff of the 1930s and early 1940s. I was electrified by “Original Boogie Woogie” blasting out of a café in San Francisco as I was walking to 2nd-grade school near the Cow Palace (Visitación Valley) and it expanded my consciousness to rhythm and the bass line. As a pimply adolescent I was happily introduced to real ‘rhythm and blues’ in the early 1950s, by ‘Jumpin’ George’ Oxford on KWBR in Oakland (Buick ’59, Be-Bop Wino, WPLJ–White Port and Lemon Juice–,Working with my Annie, Gimme Push–oh, if the parents only knew what lyrics we were listening to!). Then came West Coast Jazz, birthed by Stan Kenton who inspired a raft of musicians like Shorty Rogers, Jimmy Giuffre, etc. I got out of the Navy at age 21, returned to San Francisco to hear this white guy trying to sound like a black guy–Elvis Presley. I never could stand him, or understand the popularity of his falseness. Then the ultimate: The Beatles and whole psychedelic era. Nothing can top it, from my perspective. Heavy metal and punk and whatever names that followed were mostly noise to me, although I could get inside “The Dead” and a few others, but it was work. “This is the End” by Jim Morrison and The Doors, yes… I saw his grave in Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, covered with flowers.
I too have been to Pere Lachaise cemetery to visit Jim, poured him a slug of red wine onto his grave, and sat there a while. I could never get into Elvis, and the big band thing was never attractive to me, but Im totally with you on the psychedellic scene. Love Forever Changes is a great album, and Morrison is never far off my listening rotation, don’t tell my punk friends, but I adore that acid scene music, even Pink Floyd and the Dead , who, as you know are total anathema to the punk crowd. Your San Francisco is cold, wet and windy today, I have barely dared to go outside.
I was raised on Classical music, except for the crooning and big band stuff of the 1930s and early 1940s. I was electrified by “Original Boogie Woogie” blasting out of a café in San Francisco as I was walking to 2nd-grade school near the Cow Palace (Visitación Valley) and it expanded my consciousness to rhythm and the bass line. As a pimply adolescent I was happily introduced to real ‘rhythm and blues’ in the early 1950s, by ‘Jumpin’ George’ Oxford on KWBR in Oakland (Buick ’59, Be-Bop Wino, WPLJ–White Port and Lemon Juice–,Working with my Annie, Gimme Push–oh, if the parents only knew what lyrics we were listening to!). Then came West Coast Jazz, birthed by Stan Kenton who inspired a raft of musicians like Shorty Rogers, Jimmy Giuffre, etc. I got out of the Navy at age 21, returned to San Francisco to hear this white guy trying to sound like a black guy–Elvis Presley. I never could stand him, or understand the popularity of his falseness. Then the ultimate: The Beatles and whole psychedelic era. Nothing can top it, from my perspective. Heavy metal and punk and whatever names that followed were mostly noise to me, although I could get inside “The Dead” and a few others, but it was work. “This is the End” by Jim Morrison and The Doors, yes… I saw his grave in Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, covered with flowers.
I too have been to Pere Lachaise cemetery to visit Jim, poured him a slug of red wine onto his grave, and sat there a while. I could never get into Elvis, and the big band thing was never attractive to me, but Im totally with you on the psychedellic scene. Love Forever Changes is a great album, and Morrison is never far off my listening rotation, don’t tell my punk friends, but I adore that acid scene music, even Pink Floyd and the Dead , who, as you know are total anathema to the punk crowd. Your San Francisco is cold, wet and windy today, I have barely dared to go outside.