AN
EPIC ARCHEOLOGICAL EXPEDITION into Seattle’s senior pop label’s master tape
vaults yielded this selected set of twenty-two Northwest rock songs from the
Psychedelic Sixties. It is a kaleidoscopic mix of classic regional radio hits,
half-forgotten obscurities, and recently rediscovered long-lost nuggets.
THIS REGION'S TEEN-R&B BEGINNINGS were tracked on Volume I of Jerden Record’s History of Northwest Rock series, The Original Northwest Sound 1959-1964
(Jerden 7002) and the second installment, The Garage Years 1963-1967 (Jerden
7007), documented how, later, local musicians forged a brutal new aesthetic
that came to be known as garage/punk rock. Finally, this third volume presents
a mind-blowing flashback to a time when our local sounds were being impacted by
influences as disparate as flower power folk-rock, Mersey Beat mania,
paisley-powered psychedelia, old-timey jug bands, acid rock freak-outs,
and back-to-the-country rock. Yet as we shall see, the region’s bedrock
teen-R&B tradition never gave way entirely here in the Northwest.
Psychedelic
Seattle
1965-1969
takes us on a trip back to a wondrously tumultuous period in American history
when all sorts of established notions were challenged by “beatniks,”
“fringies,” “peaceniks,” and “hippies.” Hair was grown. Guitars got fuzzy.
Authority was questioned. Free Speech was reasserted. Civil Rights were won. A
war was stopped. Banana peels were smoked. And…for just one shining moment –
and against all musical odds – harpsichords and sitars came
together to jam in perfect peace! Weird and wonderful times!!!
Ground
zero in the cultural upheaval was, of course, San Francisco, which gained
notoriety for its mind-bending Light Shows, eye-straining psychedelic Fillmore
dance posters, radical underground newspapers, and revolutionary hippie groups
like the Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead. However, freaky youth
culture flowerings also popped up like little psilocybin mushrooms in a number
of other West Coast towns, including Seattle, Bellingham, Eugene, and Portland.
In
retrospect 1965 was the turning point. LBJ accelerated the Vietnam War
igniting the draft resistance movement. LSD hit school campuses. Light Shows
emerged as a perception-altering visual augmentation at dances. In the wake of
the Beatles’ influential psychedelic musical experiments on their Rubber
Soul and Revolver albums a sizable segment of the youth population
suddenly had no time left for “Louie Louie.” The first homegrown hippie bands
like the Daily Flash, Emergency Exit, and Crome Syrcus were comprised of
musicians who essentially shunned the R&B foundations of traditional
Northwest sounds in favor of more experimental and eclectic musical vocabularies.
But, of course, more was changing than simply the personal
tastes of some musicians. In fact the whole music industry’s playing field was
shifting. Record stores, record labels and radio stations were consolidating
all across the land. The mainstream’s Top-40 AM radio empire was challenged by
the newly emerging “underground” FM world. In the Northwest in particular, the
long-established star structure that had supported the teen dance system was
faltering as sock hops in school gyms and roller rinks gave way to freaky
Happenings, Be-Ins, Acid Tests, Trips Festivals, and ultimately, huge outdoor
Rock Festivals.
By
‘67’s Summer of Love Seattle’s hip community had created a quite promising
counter-culture. Now instead of continuing to attend teen-dances controlled by
the city’s kingpin, Top-40 radio DJ Pat O’Day, kids had options: weekly
light-show dances at the Eagles Ballroom. Instead of tuning into
mainstream pop radio, hip locals could now hear alternative music on
way-out stations like KRAB and KOL-FM. Rather than peruse mainstream papers
radicalized youth could get their news in our local equivalents of California’s
Berkeley Barb and Oracle papers, like the Helix, the Seer,
and the Seattle Flag. In short: It was a new dawn.
One
of the few constants throughout the decade was the presence, in Seattle, of
Jerry Dennon’s Jerden Records – a firm that, we recall, had first scored back
in 1963 with the Kingsmen’s immortal “Louie Louie”. But throughout the sixties
the label had consistently sought out local artists, produced recordings
sessions, and released and promoted their records, scoring many radio hits
along the way. Unfortunately, the late-‘60s proved to be an era when regional
radio was condensing into larger corporate chains operated by absentee owners who
had little motivation to support regional music. The result? While local labels
like Jerden continued their efforts, indifference by the radio industry
resulted in very few songs that broke out as full-fledged hits. Over the years,
however, Jerden (and its family of subsidiary labels like Piccadilly and
Panorama) still managed to develop a remarkably full catalog of Northwest rock
recordings that, luckily for posterity, span a wide range of rock evolution
during that decade.
“It’s
Tomorrow” was the exact sort of playfully stoned declaration that made a lot of
sense to the new breed of young hippies who were finding their own life path in
the mid-‘60s. Seattle’s Brave New World penned some typically addled
lyrics about “green clouds,” and trees with “blue leaves.” The Seattle-based
Jerden family of labels first issued a track by Brave New World on the Battle
of the Bands Vol. II compilation LP which was produced at a time when the
band stuck out like a sore thumb from most of their contemporary teen-R&B peer
bands on that album. While most were still pounding out variations of
sub-“Louie” type tunes, this band was already producing a musical vision on
songs like “It’s Tomorrow” and “I See.” The
Spindle provide us with a perfect example of an early branching of the new
rock sensibility – and a tune that really shoulda been a hit! The band’s
classic “Little Lies” explores a sort of middle path somewhere between
Beatles-influenced pop and an exuberant folk-rock akin to San Francisco
pioneers, the Beau Brummels. Charming stuff.
In
addition to the new bands, a few veteran bands from the ”Louie Louie”/garage
rock era simply updated their image and sound continuing into the Psychedelic
Era. Jerden Records felt strongly enough about a young Portland band, the New
Yorkers, to win them a deal with the same big-time pop/R&B label that
had taken on the Kingsmen, New York’s Scepter-Wand Records. Hopes were high,
but unfortunately the tune, “Mr. Kirby,” with its faux-sitar embellishments and
“high art” lyrics never managed to go beyond its status as a regional favorite
and win the band a national audience. That process would take a few more years,
a name change, and the group’s very own national TV program, the Hudson
Brothers Show.
Seattle’s
Tom Thumb & Casuals had been kicking around the scene for a couple
years as one of the Northwest’s bazillion sax-and-organ instrumental combos.
But by 1966 most American kids were wising up to the threat of forced military
inscription and songs began to reflect these concerns. “The Draft,” in
particular, is a genuine “period piece,” an odd and tellingly conflicted little
number that somehow manages to voice some anti-war concerns yet concludes that
fellas should “enlist to beat the draft.”
Huh?! Another veteran band, the Bumps – who like many of
their peers, had begun life with a simple goal of becoming the “next Wailers” –
began altering their “Louie Louie”-fueled sound and in ’67 cut a string of
tunes including the fuzzed-out “Please Come Down” – a plea to some gal who was
“flying on wings no one can see.”
The
era also saw the release of the debut recordings of singer/songwriter
extraordinaire Danny O’Keefe. After moving from his hometown of
Wenatchee, WA to the big city and signing a recording contract with Seattle’s
biggest label, O’Keefe began cutting a striking string of original songs
including 1966’s Brit-inflected 45, “Baby.” Within a couple years O’Keefe,
along with a couple former members of the Emergency Exit, helped form a very
eclectic rock band, Calliope, and then by 1970 he moved on to a big-time deal
with Atlantic Records and is today remembered best for sublime masterpieces
like “Good Time Charlie’s Got The Blues” and “The Road.”
Though few Northwest musicians of the Psychedelic Era made
inroads into the national pop consciousness, this region did make
contributions to the period’s zeitgeist. For example, in 1966 Northwest rock
stalwarts, the Wailers – now in their psychedelic folk-rock phase – made early
forays down to Haight Ashbury headlining over new bands like Quicksilver
Messenger Service and Country Joe & the Fish at the Avalon and Fillmore
ballrooms. Then too, Seattle rock veterans, the Frantics, headed to San
Francisco in ’65 and basically never returned home. Their keyboardist
eventually resurfaced playing with Quicksilver and a few other members soon
popped up (with newly shaggy hair, love beads, and paisley shirts) in one of
Frisco’s coolest new bands, Moby Grape. Then there was Seattle’s Daily Flash
who expanded their following into California (where they performed concerts
along with the Doors, Love, the Jefferson Airplane, Country Joe, and
Quicksilver) and appeared on a few big-time TV shows.
But
back in Seattle, the Crome Syrcus was winning a following with their
highly eclectic sound. Formed originally in 1965 the band became mainstays of
the weekly dances at the Eagles hall (with: the Strawberry Alarm Clock, the
Doors, Big Brother, Vanilla Fudge, and Iron Butterfly) and cut the very
impressively acid-damaged LP Love Cycles along with a slew of lysergic
singles including the ambitiously orchestrated “Elevator Operator” and the
wah-wah spiked “Long Hard Road.” This fabulous furry band of freaks also made
their way to Frisco and performed at the Fillmore and Avalon with the likes of
Canned Heat, the Loading Zone, and Velvet Underground. Their greatest notoriety resulted though from
an international tour they made in conjunction with the esteemed Joffrey Ballet
Company, for whom they’d composed a soundtrack for a dance piece titled Astarte.
While
numerous local musicians heard the siren song calling from Haight Ashbury and
made the irresistible pilgrimage southward, it must be noted that that path was
not a one-way street and more than a few California musicians, tired of the
circus atmosphere down there, headed north to quieter and greener pastures.
Among the expatriots who settled in the Northwest in ’65 were members of the PH
Phactor Jug Band. That band’s Seattle recordings showcase the same sort of
revivalism of turn-of-the century Southern “jug band” music as also practiced
in California by the Grateful Dead and Sopwith Camel. PH Phactor won the hearts
of locals and their good-timey music was the soundtrack at many a groovy show
between Seattle and Portland over the next few years. Signed to Jerden in ’67
the band cut numerous goodtime tunes including “Minglewood Blues,” “Barefoot
John,” – and that timeless hippie holiday singalong, “Merryjauna.” The Magic
Fern was a young band that formed in Seattle’s U District and became a top
draw at Summer of Love dances with a sweet sort of Youngbloods-esque sound.
They recorded a few singles for Jerden including “Maggie,” “I Wonder Why,” and
“Beneath A Tree” and shared the stage with bands including: Country Joe, the
Grateful Dead, the Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother, the Byrds, and the Seeds.
Meanwhile,
another of the old guard Seattle bands, the Dynamics, retooled themselves with
a new name, image and sound. Abandoning the jazz-infused R&B that they’d
been making since ‘59 and starting basically from scratch as the Springfield
Rifle, the band began honing a new radio-friendly folk-pop sound. While not
exactly rallying the era’s street revolutionaries, their pop-oriented songs
like the moody, Beatle/Zombies-tinged, “Start At The Bottom” and the wistful
harpsichord-laced “I Loved Her” did win significant airplay across the region.
Airplay that, incidentally, caught the attention of the then-hot chart-topping
LA-based group, the Buffalo Springfield. It was that group’s guitarist, Neil
Young, who indulged in a little onstage griping in Seattle about how a certain
local band (hmmm…) had ripped off his band’s name. Ouch! Interestingly, it was a different Seattle
band, Bluebird that was actually considered by locals to be, musically,
our own Northwest version of the Buffalo Springfield. Though Bluebird seemingly
did possess a similar country/folk-tinged vibe on their original tunes – like
“Goin’ Down,” and their metaphorical maritime epic, “Modessa” – they also
blended in a certain jazzy element that helped make them quite popular on the
scene.
One
long-standing teen-R&B band, Salem, Oregon’s Live Five, released a
string of fun 45’s including their ‘67 single, “Move Over & Let Me Fly,”
which evinces both tried-&-true Northwest teen-R&B underpinnings as
well as freaky new musical ideas like the undulating “…fallin’ fallin’
fallin’…” refrain. Another veteran Northwest band that persevered into the
hippie era, evolving their sound along the way, was the Bards.
Originally formed in Moses Lake, WA as a typical Wailers-like teen-R&B
combo, the Fabulous Continentals. Then in The Year Of The Beatles, 1964,
the band adopted a British Invasion vibe and a new name – as the Bards the guys
even covered the Who’s “My Generation” before honing a softer folk-soul sound
with their big regional radio hit, ‘67’s “Never Too Much Love.” Songs like the
countrified “Freedom Catcher” represented the final evolutionary phase of the
band. Northwest rock had weathered a ton of changes over the years covered here
– hell, what region’s music hadn’t?! But by 1969 the fabled Northwest teen
scene was crumbling. The long-standing weekly teen-dance tradition had faded
and giant outdoor rock festivals were on the rise. By the end of the sixties,
just about all of the original recording studios – as well as the locally based
record companies, including Jerden – had folded.
Consider
though: While times change and trends and fashions come and go, the heart of
Northwest rock remains true. It seems that no matter what transpires, there is
one factor that will never fade away... And that is the hold that “Louie Louie”
has on us as a people. Thus we wind down with a final rendition of the region’s
signature song as captured for posterity by a Seattle band, the Feelies. Though
the song itself obviously harks back to an earlier era, this version displays a
heaviness befitting 1968 – that godawful year of Memphis/Dr. Martin Luther
King, L.A./Bobby Kennedy, Chicago/Mayor Daley, and ultimately: Washington
D.C./Richard Nixon – “Louie Louie” somehow remains the most appropriate last
word (well, two actually) to wrap up this look back at a long-gone era in
Northwest rock.
[NOTE: This essay was originally published as liner-notes to Jerden Records' compilation CD,
The History of Northwest Rock Vol III]
At core, it is the story of its owner, Jan Kurtis Skugstad,
and his personal commitment to audio excellence. A native son of
Norway, Skugstad (and his family) moved to the USA in 1947 and
eventually settled in Seattle where he learned to play the drums in
jazz, pop, and country bands. In addition, he did spent time in early
Seattle recording studios doing sessions with the likes of Bonnie
Guitar, the Fleetwoods, and the Ventures. Such experiences then led to a
few years on the road – and Nashville- and Los Angeles-based hit-making
sessions with many top names – before he returned home to Seattle in
1964.
