The Beatles belonged to the counterculture and other groups climbed on board. The Big Mamas of Motown, the Supremes, in March sang, “It shook me, took me right out of my world/ It happened to me and it could happen to you… The Happening”. Peter, Paul and Mary pulled in folk music purists with “I Dig Rock & Roll Music”: “But if I really say it/ The radio won’t play it/ Unless I lay it between the lines.” The tribes gathered together. The music on FM radio became their 6 o’clock news. The Rascals were “Grooving” (“Couldn’t get away too soon”). Aretha Franklin, in April, revived Otis Redding’s prior request, and now she demanded “Respect”. The Grass Roots created a new anthem for Boomers in May: “Let’s Live for Today”, and Scott McKenzie recommended, “If you’re going to San Francisco/ Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.” The Association claimed that you would find a beautiful girl named “Windy” there, “Tripping down the streets of the city, smiling at everybody she sees.” But they warned, “Windy has stormy eyes that flash at the sound of lies.” Even prefab puberty rockers, the Monkees, attacked the American Dream with “Pleasant Valley Sunday” (“Here in Status Symbol Land”). All of this served as an overture to the real Summer of Love. The Doors seized the number one spot in June: “You know that it would be untrue/ You know that I would be a liar/ If I was to say to you/ Girl, we couldn’t get much higher/ Come on, Baby, Light My Fire.”
American parents gasped as Britain chose the Beatles as their representatives on an international live broadcast of “Our World” for 200,000,000 viewers. Lennon and McCartney composed “All You Need Is Love” for the occasion, and the band performed the tune with a sing-along choir of celebrities and friends. At that moment, Boomers truly believed that the magic of Rock & Roll would change the world for the better. America’s mainstream press claimed that the counterculture scene remained isolated to San Francisco, with an occasional flare up in Los Angeles and New York City, but now, the Beatles demonstrated that this was an international movement (or epidemic, for those over thirty).
American Boomers still craved their own arena… one specific place and time where all the tribes could gather to show their force to the world. In mid-June 50,000 hippies and freaks (most of them without money for tickets) showed up for the 3-day music festival at the Monterey County Fairgrounds (capacity- 7,100). A low-budget film crew cranked away as the kids turned on to sitar music from Ravi Shankar, Funk from Booker T & the MGs, Motown (Detroit) Soul from Otis Redding, Chicago Blues from the Butterfield Blues Band, Pure Folk from Laura Nero and Simon and Garfunkel, Folk Rock from the Byrds and the Mamas and Papas, SF Psychedelic from Big Brother (with Janis), the Grateful Dead and the Airplane, Hard Rock and Boogie from LA, the Buffalo Springfield and Canned Heat, and from Britain, the Who and Eric Burton’s New Animals. Tens of thousands of WASP teens heard for the first time a wonderful blend of world music that had never played on Top 40 radio. To hell with the established Music Industry… Boomers chose their own music from this day forward.
As a climax to the event, America discovered Jimi Hendrix. He could do it all. Jimi played roots Rock with Little Richard, funky R&B with the Isley Brothers, and lots of Soul and Blues on the “Chitlin’ Circuit”. He dug Dylan, and if Bob had the nerve to sing with that terrible voice, then so could Jimi. Hendrix didn’t have much initial success as he fronted a group at little clubs like the Café Wha? in Greenwich Village for $25 a night. But, Chas Chandler of the Animals spotted Hendrix and convinced him to come to England, where he teamed Jimi up with Noel Redding and Mitch Mitchell to form the Jimi Hendrix Experience. The band burned up all of Europe. The Experience remained a rumor here in America, and hadn’t even been asked to play at Monterey until Paul McCartney recommended the group.
The Experience managed to grab the closing spot on the bill, but they would have to follow two tough acts. The Who climaxed their set with “My Generation”. Townshend leaped all over the stage and smashed his guitar to bits, as Daltrey swung his microphone over his head and then crashed it on the cymbals as smoke bombs exploded. Next up, Jerry Garcia of the Dead wasted no time in winning over the crowd: “Folding chairs are for folding up and dancing on.” The audience obeyed. Finally, the unknown Experience took the stage and the crowd sat dumbfounded through the first couple of numbers. They had never seen or heard anything like Jimi. Hendrix plowed into a heavy-duty version of Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” and the audience snapped out of its trance and leaped to their feet. Jimi played his guitar with his teeth, behind his back, over his head and between his legs. He humped one of the amplifiers as he continued on with “Wild Thing”. Jimi made tender love to his Stratocaster, caressing the strings, and then gently laying it down. But, instead of climbing on top as the crowd now expected, Hendrix doused the guitar with lighter fluid and set it aflame. The screaming feedback from the Strat pierced the air with a terrible death moan. This was obviously a mercy killing of his dearest love, with thousands of witnesses in attendance. The Experience lived up to their name.