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The
Melody Maker Review- Pt 3.
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DROWNED. |
| SATURDAY (cont)
Next on are the Flaming Groovies . They've been given a lot of lip service lately and they are very ,very cool to talk about. Americans who just wanna play rock and roll right?
They were mediocre.
Its now the early hours of the morning . The Flaming Groovies singer is such a visual copy of Jagger its sad. He camps about and the band play Jumping Jack Flash. Christ . who wants to hear a forth rate version of ėJumping Jack Flash from a bunch of guys trying to look like everything thats already around and has already happened in a far better way ? How people like this can be given the bread and the opportunity to appear on stage sums up the mindless , gullible state of aging American 'progressive 'music . They attempt Sweet Little Rock and Roller. There's a million unpretentious semi-pro outfits doing church halls for 10 pounds a night with twice as much balls. Its so feeble you let one of those pitiful laughs out and smile at your neighbour . It finishes ,
and there's mild , wet applause. The Flaming Groovies,
grind on and with applause benefiting a flat , gutless , act , they have
the nerve to do an encore . Go to top of page here |
Captain
Beefheart and the Magic Band were on next ,to read their review go
here. Sunday. But how much can the average enthusiast stand in his search for good music. ? The endurance test trailed into Sunday accompanied by a few bleak predictions. There was no question about the quality of the performers. , but plenty directed at the weather. The Neophonic Orchestra had delivered some remarkably apt pieces , reminiscent of that eternal reference point 2001 and Brinsley Schwarz were well into their set when the rain began. The group played on bravely , hard rock and R& B rhythms. Occasionally they stopped to wipe their guitars dry, or at least drier. Another basic heavy riff band . But what else goes down so well with an audience that wants more than anything to forget the puddles and ankle deep mud for the four hours cold sleep they had the night before. Rain and Country Joe McDonald have a working relationship. The conditions are that rain will soak everyone in sight and make them feel thoroughly miserable , then Joe will come along and cheer them up again with rousing choruses and satirical couplets about famous politicians.
It worked at Woodstock, it worked at Bath and it worked at Bickershaw. He threw in old songs and liberally sprinkled with old associates like ėHere I go again ė and had the multitudes joining in on lines from the famous Fish cheer to strains of yeah, Yeah and insistent repetitions of We Love Chairman Mao. As for Joe , he was'ķt showing his feelings, except that is, for the cheer , turned especially for the occasion into a fuck Nixon cheer. After that it was time for the Fixing To Die Rag and then off the stage .
A time delaying tactic to keep things alive while
the Deads equipment was set up.
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Despite his attempts, there was still a delay before the New
Riders of the Purple Sage began playing . A portentous time.
While the stage area pulsated with attempts at organisation -heavies throwing organisers and people with or without passes indiscriminately down the steps behind the stage- the Jesus people took over the singing . For a few moments
the New Riders stood bemused and bewildered, uncertain how best to gain
the initiative. Eventually they jerked into a few jagged guitar chords
and finally they gained enough ground top launch into operation without
alienating the masses. They began with attractive country flavoured numbers, clean instrumentals and Budd Cage effectively damping down the pedal steel and then breaking out with long metallic phrases. Unfortunately there wasn't enough variation in their music. The set became a fog of similar songs, distorted vocals and introspective jams. Although their opening numbers were refreshing it was relief when they finally got offstage. With America not being on, it left only one group left. It was the obvious one. The Grateful Dead's American road crew had virtually taken over the stage. For a full half hour or more the dead lived up to their name . They were Dead, The festival seemed to be about to end on a marathon anti- climax .Changes began to happen around sunset. The Grateful Dead slowly
took a hold on them selves and their audience responded. They were playing
a succession of short sharp numbers , very much the rock side of the group.Garcia
picked out the whiplash lead and stared around the stage with owlish blankness.
Just time for a quick
half time and the Dead were back into the music. They were hardly recognisable
as the same group that opened the show. Somehow their longer numbers like Dark Star and Turn
on your Lovelight gave the impression that they were playing in
competition with each other, but listen carefully to each instrument in
turn. |
 Jerry Garcia &friend.. The deep rumblings of Phil Lesh's bass chords and Bill Kreutzmann's drumming , the cutting guitar rhythms of Bob Weir and most dramatically of all Garcia's superb lead. The weird little phrases he played, with their bell tone and uncertain symmetry. The vital flames of feedback , beautifully controlled. The purple spotlights focussed on Garcia as Dark Star rebounded from atmospherics into its culminating rhythm , making the recording on the Live Dead album sound feeble in comparison . Incredibly , at one point the security web around the dead folded. A figure rushed across the stage , evading roadies. He threw his arms around Kreutzmann, forcing the drummer to stop playing. In the few seconds of struggle he got across to Kreutzmann that he meant to die that night. Kreutzmann nodded and smiles sympathetically and returned to his stool. The frantic saboteur disappeared behind security. Around midnight the Dead had been playing for about four hours , give or take one or two breaks . Rock returned as they began the final hour. A female friend came on occasionally to reinforce the vocals and Pigpen crept forward from his organ to belt out a few songs. Eventually they came
to Not fade away and Weir all but threw his
voice away on it. An encore and one final fling on Johnny
B Goode. Reporters for MELODY
MAKER were, Chris Welch, Roy Hollingsworth and Andrew Means. Pictures
by Barrie Wentzell
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If you have any info regarding the festival please get in touch Contact us
Updated May 2023
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