Long ride on the “Airplane”
Dale Hobson at the corner of Haight and Ashbury in 2005, 38 years late for the “Summer of Love.” Photo: Terry de la Vega
I was a reasonably normal 14-year old in 1967. I had just started reading a lot of science fiction and fantasy—what would be called the classics by readers today. I had mainstream “JFK-liberal” political opinions. I was a Boy Scout, literally, still working on merit badges, and had a moderate affection for the sappier end of the Beatles repertoire.
Then came the Summer of Love, not that I would know it, not until Life magazine did the photo spread. Strange things were happening in San Francisco, in New York City and London, but they arrived a little later in Potsdam (as most things do in the North Country).
In 1968 a friend, more tuned in to the latest than I, dropped “Crown of Creation” by the Jefferson Airplane onto my Montgomery Ward portable record machine. The cover was a gaggle of wildly colorful long-hairs, enough older than me to be attractive, but not so much older as to be out of reach, in front of a detonating nuclear fireball.
Love, Utopian visions for dystopian times, raucous music, dangerous passions, a hedonistic tribal lifestyle, all served up with a hefty dose of weird–everything that would drive a parent crazy and lead a 15-year-old to take a long detour in life.
I would ride “the Airplane” all the way to the ground, seeking out each new LP, collecting the fellow travelers of the psychedelic sound, the Dead, It’s a Beautiful Day, Quicksilver. And when the Airplane crash-landed, there was its Phoenix-like rebirth and remix as Jefferson Starship, and the Airplane’s wooden lifeboat, Hot Tuna.
One of the Airplane’s founders, Paul Kantner, died this week at age 74, and it all comes back to me, not that I haven’t revisited the music over and over during my lifetime. Strip away the silliness and excess of psychedelia, the duds and detours of a long musical life, there is something quintessentially American left in the San Francisco sound pioneered by Kantner and his tribe—a “go big or go home” bravura, a love of risk and adventure, futuristic vision, a bizzaro take on “The Peaceable Kingdom,” a bone-deep aversion to authority, an appreciation for the aesthetic value of chaos, and a firmly romantic view of the natural human.
It’s been a great ride.
Tags: listeningpost
Was a crowd control “Psychedelic Ranger” for Jefferson Starship concert in Ann Arbor, probably 1969 or so-10 feet away from Grace Slick and Papa John Gretch (?)-could see the strings on his violin fraying with his exuberant bowing. She would turn her back on the crowd and periodically snort something out of a whistle hung from around her neck. Their energy could levitate the entire arena, or so it felt. Would love to feel that energy again. Invigorating doesn’t begin to describe it.
D
Had the good fortune to attend SF Art Institute in 1967. It certainly was a different place than Buffalo at the time. Saw the Airplane and the Dead, Country Joe and Quicksilver. Many fond memories of a very hopeful time. I want to write “Too bad it didn’t last.” but I think a spark has lasted all these years for many of us. So I remain hopeful. Thanks, Dale.
Well, alas, being ten years older than you, I actually had a job in Montreal in 1968. Earning good money too! But enough $$ left over for some weekend reefers & acid. Yeah, I was one of those weekend hippies.
And I STILL have not yet visited SF.
I wonder what the rent is now on those apartments behind you in the picture?
Addendum – Oh, yeah- the closest I ever came to the Jefferson Airplane was inMontreal during Expo ’67, when they were part of a noontime outdoor concert in Place Ville Marie. I worked nearby, and went back to the office 30 minutes late! The straight boss was not pleased.
Strange- there were other well-known rock groups at that concert, but I only remember the Jefferson Airplane…
I was there, Lower East Side, which was called the East Village, during the 60’s.
Loved the music. Loved the low rents. Thought and still think the Hippies were too funny to take seriously.
A lot of phoniness back then as there is now.
Timothy Leary was the height of phoniness. Did see his “Light Show” at St. Marks and was not impressed.
Grass was okay when you could get it for free but LSD and all the other junk, I avoided.
I regard Grace Slick as the best and only reason to listen to Airplane and Starship. Never cared for the Dead.
Overall, the music was better then than now.
It was a time and place, and all of it is gone as all times and places are destined to go, leaving only some good and not so good memories, and two best friends I still love and know, including my wife whom I met in 1967.
Dale, thankx for your post. I don’t remember hearing Jefferson Airplane until I went away to college in 1970. One of my roommates had three of their albums and played them often. _Volunteers_ definitely introduced me to a whole new world. About the same time, I was sitting transmitter watch at the college radio station on the evening shift. They had what they called “The Underground Show” that ran at midnight on Friday and Saturday nights (as a lot of other stations did at the time). That show introduced me to a LOT of music that was new (to me), and they played a lot of the San Francisco bands. I discovered that I liked a lot of the SF bands for their sound. I really appreciate the way you described it in your penultimate paragraph.
RIP, Paul Kantner.
Thanks for letting us step into the time machine
Dale–I like most of what you write, but absolutely LOVE this one. What would we all have done back then without music? Many thanks.