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‘By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a million strong.‘ It was Joni Mitchell’s song that went on to become Crosby, Still, Nash and Young’s anthem but sadly it wasn’t mine. I couldn’t go. My mum had told me there was no way I’d be back in time for school the following day.
Tin Can’s choice to launch on such a momentous day allows us double the celebrations. What started as an idea by a couple of entrepreneurs to raise some cash literally grew out of all proportion, Woodstock was to become the festival of all festivals.
After a couple of last minute venue changes it became clear that Yasgus Farm was going to play host to a different kind of event. Ask anyone who was there and they’ll tell you ‘Woodstock. Man that was something else!’ It was heralded as something spiritual, a religious gathering of the masses. I’m surprised they never declared it a public holiday, ‘Hippies Day.’
Without Woodstock there would be no Glastonbury. In it’s heyday I think Glastonbury was as close as we ever got to Woodstock and even now, after all these years Woodstock is still the place where rock’s pilgrims descend. It’s their Stonehenge. Part celebration, part curiosity. Some come to reminisce, others to wonder what really did happen on that muddiest of muddy weekends. Those who came to Woodstock that weekend were indeed half a million strong but they left with fewer brain cells. There was more than music in abundance that weekend.
For those of us that weren’t there (Did I mention I didn’t go?) we can but wonder. Thank God someone had the foresight to open the gates and declare it a free festival when they did eventually realize just quite how many people had started to descend on the site. Everywhere was at a complete standstill, gridlock for miles. I remember watching the news footage that first day with all the reporters stood around trying themselves to fathom out what the hell was happening!
Bickershaw near Wigan however, was my Woodstock and my Glastonbury all rolled in to one. It’s another story and one I’ll share with you another time, but suffice to say it does have the Grateful Dead and does have the dawn. And like all good festivals it had rain and it had mud, plenty of it. It’s weird but it seems it’s the moist that helps us remember it the most. When we’re wet and laden with mud we remember every number every band played that day.
So many of the artists appearing that weekend played like it was their last gig on earth. The bands appearing were as happy to be there as the people who came to watch them. They would site Woodstock as a defining moment in their career. It’s not something you forget.
‘And everywhere there was song and celebration.’ Indeed there was. On both sides of the Atlantic bands were sprouting up everywhere. It was bumper crop time. How lucky I was to be growing up around all that and how each year I seem to be more grateful for it.
I’ve discovered of late that when you start writing about these things you immediately get taken back in time and you start to appreciate how damn lucky you were to grow up at a time when there was such amazing talent. These bands survived to become a part of history and yet you look back and think some of your favorite artists weren’t even there, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, The Doors, The Byrds to name but a precious few. There was just so much talent around you almost took it for granted, every week someone else would release a masterpiece.
Richie Havens who opened the show was hardly the most famous face but by the time he got up off his stool and strummed his way off the stage crying ‘Freedom’ he had a face no one would forget. His performance was magnificent and literally set the stage for the whole weekend. And prior to going on his only brief was ‘keep playing the crowds are still arriving!’ And just to think Woodstock was Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s second ever gig. They came on stage at 4 am on the Sunday morning while The Who played the whole of Tommy the preceding day starting their set at 3am! Can you imagine falling asleep and having to admit you slept through it all? The tickets should have carried a warning, “Don’t dare to go to sleep’
Woodstock was the event that changed a generation. It actually meant something to not only those who went, but to a million others who didn’t. Woodstock became the ultimate meeting of the masses. Woodstock loved everybody and everything. It was everything it was meant to be and more but in the space of four short months everything it stood for came tumbling down. Along came Altamont where love turned to hate and peace became war. The sixties ended disastrously. Woodstock should have been the final resting place of the hippies yet it was Altamont that became their burial ground.
‘We’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.’
Tags: woodstock tony michaelides dulcet tones jimi hendrix music festival
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