A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs - Episode 151: “San Francisco” by Scott McKenzie
Episode Date: August 22, 2022We start season four of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs with an extra-long look at “San Francisco” by Scott McKenzie, and at the Monterey Pop Festival, and the careers of the... Mamas and the Papas and P.F. Sloan. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a ten-minute bonus episode available, on “Up, Up, and Away” by the 5th Dimension. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt’s irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Errata: An incorrect version of the file was previously uploaded, with the wrong section edited in at approximately 57 minutes. This was fixed about three hours after uploading, but some streaming services may have cached the wrong file. Also I say that John Phillips wrote “No, No, No, No”. I got this from an interview with McKenzie, but he must have been misremembering — the song is a cover version of “La Poupee Qui Fait Non” by Michel Polnareff, with English-language lyrics by Geoff Stephens (more…)
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A History of Rock Music in 500 songs by Andrew Hake.
Episode 151, San Francisco by Scott McKenzie.
Welcome to Season 4 of A History of Rock Music in 500 songs.
It's good to be back.
Before we start this episode, I just want to say one thing.
I get a lot of credit at times for the way I'd
don't shy away from dealing with the more unsavory elements of the people being covered in my podcast,
particularly the more awful men. But as I said very early on, I only cover those aspects of their
life when they're relevant to the music, because this is a music podcast and not a true crime
podcast. But also I worry that in some cases this might mean I'm giving a false impression of some
people. In the case of this episode, one of the central figures is John Phillips of the Mommas and the Poppers.
Now, Phillips has posthumously been accused of some truly monstrous acts,
the kind of thing that is truly unforgivable, and I believe those accusations.
But those acts didn't take place during the time period covered by most of this episode,
so I won't be covering them here, but they're easily googlable if you want to know.
I thought it best to get that out of the way at the start,
so no one's either anxiously waiting for the penny to drop,
or upset that I didn't acknowledge the elephant in the room.
Separately, this episode will have some discussion of fat phobia and diet culture, and of a death that is at least in part attributable to those things.
Those of you affected by that may want to skip this one or read the transcript.
There are also some mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism.
Anyway, on with the show.
One of the things that causes problems with rock history is the tendency of people to have selective memories,
and that's never more true than when it comes to the Summer of Love, summer of 1967.
In the mythology that's built up around it, that was a golden time, the greatest time ever,
a period of peace and love where everything was possible, and the world looked like it was just going to keep on getting better.
But what that means, of course, is that the people remembering it that way do so because it was the best time of their lives.
And what happens when the best time of your life is over in one summer, when you have one hit and never have a second?
Or when your band splits up after only 18 months, and you have to cope with the reality that your best years are not,
only behind you, but they weren't even best years, but just best months. What stories would
you tell about that time? Would you remember it as the eve of destruction, the last great
moment before everything went to hell? Or would you remember it as a golden summer full of people
with flowers in their hair? And would either really be true. Other than the city in which they worked,
there are a few things that seem to characterize almost all the important figures on the
LA music scene in the middle part of the 1960s.
They almost all seem to be incredibly ambitious, as one might imagine.
There seem to be a huge number of fantasists among them.
People who will not only choose the legend over reality when it suits them,
but who will choose the legend over reality even when it doesn't suit them.
And they almost all seem to have a story about being turned down
in a rude and arrogant manner by Lou Adler, usually more or less the same story.
To give an example, I'm going to read out a bit of Ray Manzarek's autobiography here.
Now, Manzarek uses a few words that I can't use on this podcast and keep a clean rating.
So I'm just going to do slight pauses when I get to them,
but I'll leave the words in the transcript for those who aren't offended by them.
Sometimes Jim and Dorothy and I went alone.
The three of us tried Dunhill Records.
Lou Adler was the headman.
He was shrewd and he was hip.
He had the mumbers and the poppers and a big single with Barry McGuire's Eve of Destruction.
He was flush.
We were ushered into his office.
He looked cool.
He was California casually disheveled and had the look of a stoner, but his eyes were as cold as a shark's.
He took the 12-inch acetate demo from me, and we all sat down. He put the disc on his turntable
and played each cut for 10 seconds. Ten seconds. You can't tell Jack, from 10 seconds, at least listen to one of
the songs all the way through. I wanted to rage at him. How dare you? Where the doors? This is
Jim Morrison. He's going to be a,
"'Star. Can't you see that? Can't you see how—handsome he is? Can't you hear how groovy the music is?
Don't you? Get it? Listen to the words, man. My brain was a boiling, lava-filled, yellow-mould of rage.
I wanted to eviscerate that shark. The songs he so casually dismissed were Moonlight Drive.
Hello, I Love You. Some was almost gone. End of the night. I looked at you. Go insane.
He rejected the whole demo.
Ten seconds on each song,
maybe 20 seconds on Hello I Love You.
I took that as an omen of potential airplay,
and we were dismissed out of hand, just like that.
He took the demo off the turntable
and handed it back to me with an obsequious smile
and said, nothing here I can use.
We were shocked.
We stood up the three of us,
and Jim, with a Ryan knowing smile on his lips,
cuttingly and coolly shot back at him.
That's okay, man.
We don't want to be used anyway.
Now, as you may have gathered from the episode on the Doors,
Raymond Zarek was one of those print the legend types,
and that's true of everyone who tells similar stories about Luadler.
But there are a lot of people who tell similar stories about Luadler.
One of those was Phil Sloan.
You can get an idea of Sloan's attitude to storytelling
from a story he always used to tell.
Shortly after he and his family moved to L.A. from New York,
he got a job selling newspapers on a street corner on Hollywood Boulevard,
just across from Schwab's drugstore.
One day James Dean drove up in his Porsche and made an unusual request.
He wanted to buy every copy of the newspaper that Sloan had,
around 150 copies in total.
But he only wanted one article, something in the entertainment section.
Sloan didn't remember what the article was,
but he did remember that one of the headlines was on the final illness of Oliver Hardy,
who died shortly afterwards,
and thought it might have been something to do with that.
Dean was going to just clip that article from every copy he bought,
and then he was going to give all the newspapers back to Sloan to sell again,
so Sloan ended up making a lot of extra money that day.
There is one rather big problem with that story.
Oliver Hardy died in August 57, just after the Sloan family moved to L.A.,
but James Dean died in September 1955, two years earlier.
Sloan admitted that and said he couldn't explain it, but he was insistent.
He sold 150 newspapers to James Dean two years after Dean's death.
When not selling newspapers to dead celebrities, Sloan went to Fairfax High School
and developed an interest in music which was mostly oriented around the kind of white-pop vocal groups that were popular at the time,
groups like the Kingston Trio, the four lads, and the four aces.
But the record that made Sloan decide he wanted to make music himself was just goofed by the Teen Queens.
In 1959, when he was 14, he saw an advert for an open audition with Aladdin Records,
a label he liked because of Thurston Harris.
He went along to the audition and was successful.
His first single, released as by Flip Sloan,
Flip was a nickname,
A Corruption of Philip,
was produced by Bump's Blackwell
and featured several of the musicians who played with Sam Cuck,
plus Larry Neckle on piano and Mike Deasy on guitar.
But Aladdin shut down shortly after releasing it,
and it may not even have had a general release,
just promo copies.
I've not been able to find a copy online anyway,
After that he tried Arwin Records, the label that Jan and Arnie recorded for,
which was owned by Marty Multure, Doris Day's husband and Terry Murch's stepfather.
Melcher signed him and put out a single, She's My Girl, on Mart Records,
a subsidiary of Arwin, on which Sloan was backed by a group of session players,
including Sandy Nelson and Bruce Johnston.
That record didn't have any success, and Sloan was soon dropped by Mark Records,
He went on to sign with Bluebird Records, which was, as far as can be ascertained,
essentially a scam organisation that would record demos for songwriters, but tell the performers
that they were making a real record, so that they would record it for the royalties they would
never get, rather than for a decent fee as a professional demo singer would get.
But Steve Venet, the brother of Nick Renet, an occasional songwriting collaborator with Tommy Boyce,
happened to come to Bluebird one day
and hear one of Sloan's original songs.
He thought Sloan would make a good songwriter
and took him to see Lou Adler
at Columbia Screen Gems Music Publishing.
This was shortly after the merger
between Columbia Screen Gems and Aldom music
and Adler was at this point
the West Coast Head of Operations,
subservient to Don Kirshner and Al Nevin's
but largely left to do what he wanted.
The way Sloan always told the story,
Venet tried to get Adler to sign Sloan
but Adler said his song stunk and had no commercial potential.
But Sloan persisted in trying to get a contract there,
and eventually Al Nevin's happened to be in the office and overruled Adler,
much to Adler's disgust.
Sloan was signed to Columbia Screen Gems as a songwriter,
though he wasn't put on a salary like the Brill Building songwriters,
just told that he could bring in songs and they would publish them.
Shortly after this, Adler suggested to Sloan
that he might want to form a writing team with another songwriter,
Steve Barry, who had had a similar non-career, non-trajectory,
but was very slightly further ahead in his career,
having done some work with Carol Conners,
the former lead singer of the Teddy Bears.
Barry had co-written a couple of flop singles for Conners
before the two of them had formed a vocal group,
the Storytellers, with Conner's sister.
The Storytellers had released a single,
when two people are in love,
which was put out on a local independent label
and which Adler had licensed to be released on Dimension Records,
the label associated with Aldon music.
That record didn't sell,
but it was enough to get Barry into the Columbia Screen Gem circle,
and Adler set him and Sloan up as a songwriting team,
although the way Sloan told it,
it wasn't so much a songwriting team
as Sloan writing songs while Barry was also there.
Sloan would later claim
it was mostly a collaboration of spirit,
and it seemed that I was writing most of the music and the lyric,
but it couldn't possibly have ever happened
unless both of us were present at the same time.
One suspects that Barry might have a different recollection of how it went.
Sloan and Barry's first collaboration was a song that Sloan had half written before they met,
called Kick That Little Foot Sally Ann, which was recorded by a West Coast chubby checker knockoff,
who went under the name Round Robin, and who had his own dance craze, the Slawson,
which was much less successful than the twist.
That track was a little foot Sally, Sally, Sally.
produced and arranged by Jack Nitchie, and Nitchie asked Sloan to be one of the rhythm guitarists
on the track, apparently liking Sloan's feel. Sloan would end up playing rhythm guitar or
singing backing vocals on many of the records made of songs he and Barry wrote together.
Kick that Little Foot, Sally Ann, only made No. 61 nationally, but it was a regional hit,
and it meant that Sloan and Barry soon became what Sloan later described as the Goffin and
king of the West Coast follow-ups. According to Sloan,
We'd be given a list on Monday morning by Lou Adler with 30 names on it of the groups who needed follow-ups to their hit.
They'd then write the songs to order, and they started to specialise in dance craze songs.
For example, when the swim looked like it might be the next big dance.
They wrote Swim, Swim, Swim, She Only Wants to Swim, Let's Swim Baby, Big Boss Swimmer, Swim Party, and My Swimming Girl.
The last, a collaboration with Jam Berry and Roger Christian.
These songs were exactly as good as they needed to be
in order to provide album filler for mid-tier artists.
And while Sloan and Barry weren't writing any massive hits,
they were doing very well as mid-tier writers.
According to Sloan's biographer Stephen McParland,
there was a three-year period in the mid-60s
where at least one song written or co-written by Sloan
was on the national charts at any given time.
Most of these songs weren't for Columbia screen gems though.
In early 1964,
Lou Adler had a falling out with Don Kirchner
and decided to start up his own company, Dunhill,
which was equal parts production company,
music publishers and management,
doing for West Coast pop singers
what Motown was doing for Detroit soul singers
and putting everything into one basket.
Dunhill's early clients included Janand Dean
and the rockabilly singer Johnny Rivers,
and Dunhill also signed Sloan and Barry as songwriters.
Because of this connection, Sloan and Barry soon became an important part of Jan and Dean's hit-making process.
The Matadors, the vocal group that had provided most of the backing vocals on the duo's hits,
had started asking for more money than Jan Barry was willing to pay,
and Jan and Dean couldn't do the vocals themselves.
As Bones Howe put it, as a singer, Dean is a wonderful graphic artist,
and so Sloan and Barry stepped in, doing session vocals without payment,
in the hope that Jan and Dean would record a few of their songs.
For example, on the big hit, The Little Old Lady from Pasadena,
Dean Torrance is not present at all on the record.
Jan Berry sings the lead vocal, with Sloan doubling him for much of it.
Sloan sings Dean's falsetto, with the engineer Bones Howe helping out,
and the rest of the backing vocals are sung by Sloan, Barry and Howe.
For these recordings, Sloan and Barry were known as the Fantastic Baggies,
a name which came from the Rolling Stones manager Andrew Oldham and Mick Jagger
when the two were visiting California.
Oldham had been commenting on Baggies, the kind of shorts worn by surfers,
and had asked Jagger what he thought of the Baggies as a group name.
Jagger had replied Fantastic, and so the Fantastic Baggies had been born.
As part of this, Sloan and Barry moved hard into surf and Hot Rod music
from the dance songs they had been writing previously.
The Fantastic Baggies recorded their own album
Tell them I'm surfing, as a Quicky album suggested by Adler.
And under the name The Rally Packs, they recorded a version of Jan and Dean's Move-out Little
Mustang, which featured Barry's girlfriend Jill Gibson doing a spoken section.
They also wrote several album tracks for Jan and Dean, and wrote Summer Means Fun for Bruce and Terry,
Bruce Johnston, later of the Beach Boys, and Terry Moucher.
And they wrote the very serf-flavoured Secret Agent Man
for fellow Dunhill artist Johnny Rivers
But of course, when you're chasing trends
And soon the craze for twangie guitars and falsetto harmonies had ended
Replaced by a craze for jangly 12-string guitars and closer harmonies
According to Sloan, he was in at the very beginning of the folk rock trend.
The way he told the story, he was involved in the mastering of the bird's version of Mr.
Tambourine Man.
He later talked about Terry Multure getting him to help out, saying,
He had produced a record called Mr. Tambourine Man,
and had sent it into the head office, and it had been rejected.
He called me up and said,
I've got three more hours in the studio before I'm being kicked out of Columbia.
Can you come over and help me with this new record?
I did.
I went over there.
there. It was under lock and key. There were two guards outside the door. Terry asked me
something about summer means fun. He said, do you remember the guitar that we worked on with that?
How we put in that double reverb? And I said, yes. And he said, what do you think if we did
something like that with the birds? And I said, that sounds good. Let's see what it sounds like.
So we patched into all the reverb centres in Columbia music and mastered the record in three hours.
Whether Sloan really was there at the birth of folk rock,
he and Barry jumped on the folk rock craze just as they had the servant hot rod craze
and wrote a string of jangly hits including You Baby for the Turtles.
And I Found a Girl for Janand Dean.
That song was later included on Janandine's folk and roll album,
which also included a song I'm not even going to name,
but long-time listeners will know the one I mean.
It was also notable in that I found a girl.
girl was the first song on which Sloan was credited not as Phil Sloan, but as P.F. Sloan.
He didn't have a middle name beginning with F, but rather the F stood for his nickname Flip.
Sloan would later talk of Phil Sloan and P.F. Sloan, as almost being two different people,
with P.F. being a far more serious, intense songwriter. Folkenroll also contained another Sloan song,
this one credited solely to Sloan, and that song is the one for which he became best known.
There are two very different stories about how Eve of Destruction came to be written.
To tell Sloan's version, I'm going to read a few paragraphs from his autobiography.
By late 1964, I had already written Eve of Destruction, The Sins of a Family,
This morning, Ain't no way I'm going to change my mind, and what's exactly the matter with me?
They all arrived on one cataclysmic evening, and nearly at the same time,
as I worked on the lyrics almost simultaneously.
Eve of Destruction came about from hearing a voice, perhaps an angel's.
The voice instructed me to place five pieces of paper and spread them out of my bed.
I obeyed the voice.
The voice told me that the first song would be called Eve of Destruction,
so I wrote the title at the top of the page.
For the next few hours, the voice came and went as I was writing the lyric,
as if this spirit, or whatever it was, stood over me like a teacher.
No, no, not think of all the hate there is in Red Russia.
Red China!
I didn't understand.
I thought the Soviet Union was the mortal threat to America,
but the voice went on to reveal to me the future of the world until 2024.
I was told the Soviet Union would fall,
and that Red China would continue to be communist far into the future,
but that communism was not going to be allowed to take over this divine planet.
Therefore, think of all the hate there is in Red China.
I argued and wrestled with the voice for hours,
until I was exhausted but satisfied inside with my plea to God
to either take me out of the world
as I could not live in such a hypocritical society
or to show me a way to make things better.
When I was writing Eve, I was on my hands and knees,
pleading for an answer.
Lou Adler's story is that he gave Phil Sloan
a copy of Bob Dylan's Bringing It All Back Home album
and told him to write a bunch of songs that sounded like that.
And Sloan came back a week later, as instructed,
with ten Dylan knockoffs.
Adler said, it was a natural feel for him.
He's a great mimic.
As one other data point, both Steve Barry and Bones Howe, the engineer who worked on most of the sessions
were looking at today, have often talked in interviews about Eve of Destruction as being a Sloan Barry
collaboration, as if to them it's common knowledge that it wasn't written alone, although Sloans
is the only name on the credits. The song was given to a new signing to Dunhill Records,
Barry Maguire. McGuire was someone who had been part of the folk scene for years. He'd been playing
folk clubs in LA while also acting in a TV show from 1961. When the TV show had finished,
he'd formed a duo Barry and Barry with Barry Kane, and they performed much the same repertoire
as all the other early 60s folkies. After recording their one album, both Barry's joined the new
Christie Minstrels. We've talked about the Christie's before, but they were an art of this day,
an ultra-commercial folk group, led by Randy Sparks, with a revolving membership of usually eight or nine
singers, which included several other people who've come up in this podcast, like Gene Clark
and Jerry Esther. McGuire became one of the principal lead singers of the Christie's,
singing lead on their version of the novelty cowboy song Three Wheels on My Wagon,
which was later released as a single in the UK and became a perennial children's favourite,
though it has a problematic attitude towards Native Americans.
And he also sang lead on their big hit, Green Green, which he co-reased.
with Randy Sparks.
But by 1965, McGuire had left the new Christyman's drools. As he said later, I'd sung green
green a thousand times and I didn't want to sing it again. This is January of 1965.
I went back to L.A. to meet some producers and I was broke. Nobody had
the time of day for me. I was walking down the street one time to see Dr. Strange Love,
and I walked by the music store, and I heard green green coming out of the store, you know,
on Hollywood Boulevard, and I heard my voice and I thought, I got four dollars in my pocket.
I couldn't believe it. My voice is coming out on Hollywood Boulevard and I'm broke,
and right at that moment a car pulls up, and the radio is playing chim chim chim chim cheree,
also by the minstrels, so I got my voice coming at me in stereo, standing on the sidewalk there,
and I'm broke and I can't get anyone to sign me.
But Maguire had a lot of friends who he'd met on the folk scene,
some of whom were now in the new folk rock scene that was just starting to spring up.
One of them was Roger McGuin,
who told him that his band, The Birds,
were just about to put out a new single,
Mr Tambourine Man,
and that they were about to start a residency at Ceros on Sunset Strip.
McGuin invited Maguire to the opening night of that residency,
where a lot of other people from the scene were there to see the new group.
Bob Dylan was there, as was Phil Sloan, and the actor Jack Nicholson,
who was still at the time a minor bit part player in low-budget films made by people like American International Pictures.
The cinematographer on many of Nicholson's early films was Floyd Crosby, David Crosby's father,
which may be why he was there. Someone else who was there was Lou Adler,
who, according to McGuire, recognized him instantly. According to Adler,
he actually asked Terry Melcher who the long-haired dancer wearing furs was, because he looked like the lead.
of a movement, and Melcher told him that he was the former lead singer of the new
Christie Minstrels. Either way, Adler approached Maguire and asked if he was currently signed. Dunhill Records
was just starting up, and getting someone like Maguire, who had a proven ability to sing
lead on hit records, would be a good start for the label. As McGuire didn't have a contract,
he was signed to Dunhill, and he was given some of Sloan's new songs to pick from, and chose,
what's exactly the matter with me as his single. McGuire described what happened next,
It was like a three-hour session.
We did two songs, and then the third one wasn't turning out.
We only had about a half hour left in the session,
so I said, let's do this tune.
And I pulled Eve of destruction out of my pocket,
and it just had Phil's words scrolled on a piece of paper all wrinkled up.
Phil worked the chords out with the musicians,
who were Hal Blaine on drums and Larry Nectle on bass.
There were actually more musicians than that at the session.
Apparently both Nectal and Joe Osborne were there,
so I'm not entirely sure who's playing bass.
Nectal was a keyboard player as well as a bass player,
but I don't hear any keyboards on the track.
And Tommy Tedesco was playing lead guitar,
and Steve Barry had a percussion,
along with Sloan on rhythm guitar and harmonica.
The chords were apparently scribbled down
for the musicians on bits of greasy paper
that had been used to wrap some takeaway chicken,
and they got through the track in a single take.
According to Maguire,
I'm reading the words off this piece of wrinkled paper,
and I'm singing,
my blood so mad feels like coagulating.
That part that goes,
ah, you can't twist the truth.
And the reason I'm going, ah,
is because I lost my place on the page.
People said,
man, you really sounded frustrated when you were singing.
I was, I couldn't see the words.
Senators don't pass legislation,
and marches alone can't bring integration
when human respect is disintegrating.
This whole crazy world
With a few overdubs,
the female backing singers in the chorus
and possibly the kettle drums,
which have seen differing claims about,
with some saying that Hal Blaine played them during the basic track
and others saying that Lou Adler suggested them as an overdub,
the track was complete.
McGuire wasn't happy with his vocal,
and a session was scheduled for him to redo it,
but then a record promoter working with Adler
was DJing a birthday party for the head of programming at KFWB,
the big top 40 radio station in LA at the time,
and he played a few ascertains he picked up from Adler.
Most went down okay with the crowd,
but when he played Eve of Destruction,
the crowd went wild and insisted he play it three times in a row.
The head of programming called Adler up
and told him that Eve of Destruction
was going to be put into rotation on the station from Monday,
so he'd better get the record out.
As McGuire was away for the weekend,
Adler just released the track as it was,
and what had been intended to be a B-side
became Barry McGuire's first and only number one record.
Sloan would later say, you're old enough to kill, but not for voting, you don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're tooting, and even the Chorton River has bodies floating, but you tell me...
Sloan would later claim that that song was a major reason where the children,
26th Amendment to the US Constitution was passed six years later, because the line,
You're old enough to kill but not for voting, shamed Congress into changing the Constitution
to allow 18-year-olds to vote. If so, that would make Eve of Destruction, arguably the single
most impactful rock record in history, though Sloan is the only person I've ever seen saying that.
As well as going to number one in McGuire's version, the song was also covered by the other artists
to regularly perform Sloan and Barry songs like The Turtles.
And Janandine, whose version on folk and roll used the same backing track as McGuire,
but had a few lyrical changes to make it fit with Jam Berry's right-wing politics,
most notably changing Selma Alabama to Watts, California,
thus changing a reference to peaceful civil rights protesters being brutally attacked
and murdered by white supremacist state troopers,
to a reference to what was seen in the popular imaginary as black people rioting for no reason.
According you may leave here for eight days in space, but when you return it's the same old place.
The pounding of the drums, the pride and disgrace,
you can bury you dead, but don't leave a trace.
Keep your next stone, neighbor, but don't forget to say...
According to Sloan, he worked on the folk-and-roll album as a favour to Barry,
even though he thought Barry was being cynical and exploitative in making the record.
but those changes caused a rift in their friendship.
Sloan said in his autobiography,
where I was completely wrong
was in helping him capitalise on something
in which he didn't believe.
Jan wanted the public to perceive him as a person
who was deeply concerned
and to embrace the values of the progressive politics of the day,
but he wasn't that person.
That's how I was being pulled.
It was when he recorded my actual song
Eve of Destruction
and changed a number of lines to reflect his own ideals
that my principles demanded
that I leave folk city and never return.
It's true that Sloan gave no more songs to Jan and Dean after that point,
but it's also true that the duo would record only one more album,
the comedy concept album Jan and Dean Meet Batman,
before Jan's accident.
Incidentally, the reference to Selma Alabama in the lyric
might help people decide on which story about the writing of Eve of Destruction
they think is more plausible.
Remember that Lou Adler said that it was written after Adler gave Sloan a copy of
bringing it all back home and told him to write a bunch of knock-offs,
while Sloan said it was written after a supernatural force gave him access to all the events
that would happen in the world for the next 60 years.
Sloan claimed that the song was written in late 1964.
Selma, Alabama became national news in late February and early March, 1965.
Bringing It All Back Home was released in late March, 1965.
So either Adler was telling the truth, or Sloan really was,
given a supernatural insight into the events of the future.
Now, as it turned out, while Eve of Destruction went to number one,
that would be McGuire's only hit as a solo artist.
His next couple of singles would reach the very low end of the Hot 100,
and that would be it.
He'd released several more albums before appearing in the Broadway musical Hair,
most famous for its nude scenes,
and getting a small part in the cinematic masterpiece Werewolves on Wheels.
The one who speaks for them,
let them eat their bread.
and drink their wine, and in the night benign, sleep.
Don't miss the most unusual and exciting
horror motorcycle film yet made.
I come to offer you youth and fresh, fresh lard.
Hey, we all know how we're gonna die, baby.
We're gonna crash and burn.
We're wolves on wheels starring Steve Oliver and Severn Darden.
The story of a motorcycle gang who ride into a new kind of hell.
P.F. Sloan would later tell various stories about why McGuire never had another hit.
Sometimes he would say that Dunhill records had received death threats because of Eve of Destruction
and so deliberately tried to bury McGuire's career. Other times he would say that Lou Adler had told
him that Billboard had said they were never going to put McGuire's records on the charts
no matter how well they sold, because Eve of Destruction had just been too powerful and upset the advertisers.
But of course at this time, Dunhill was still trying for a follow-up tweet of destruction,
and they thought they might have one when Barry McGuire brought in a few friends of his
to sing backing vocals on his second album.
Now, we've covered some of the history of the mammas and the poppers already,
because they were so intimately tied up with other groups like the birds and the loving spoonful,
and with the folk scene that led to songs like Hey Joe,
so some of this will be more like a recap than a totally new story.
But I'm going to recap those parts of the story anyway, so it's fresh.
in everyone's heads. John Phillips, Scott McKenzie and Cass Elliott, all grew up in Alexandria, Virginia,
just a few miles south of Washington, D.C. Elliot was a few years younger than Phillips and McKenzie,
and so as is the way with young men, they never really noticed her. And as McKenzie later said,
she lived like a quarter of a mile from me, and I never met her until New York. While they didn't
know who Elliot was, though, she was aware who they were, as Phillips and McKenzie sang together
in a vocal group called The Smoothies.
The smoothies were a modern jazz harmony group,
influenced by groups like the moderners,
the high-laws, and the four freshmen.
John Phillips later said,
we were drawn to jazz because we were sort of beatniks, really,
rather than hippies or whatever, flower children.
So we used to sing modern harmonies,
like Lambert Hendricks and Ross.
Dave Lambert did a lot of our arrangements for us as a matter of fact.
Now, I've not seen any evidence other than Phillips' claim
that Dave Lambert's ever arranged for the smoothies.
but that does tell you a lot about the kind of music that they were doing.
Lambert Hendricks and Ross were a vocalise trio,
whose main star was Annie Ross,
who had a career worthy of an episode in itself.
She sang with Paul Whitman,
appeared in a Little Rascals film when she was seven,
had an affair with Lenny Bruce,
dubbed Brit Ecclund's voice in The Wicker Man,
played the villain's sister in Superman 3, and much more.
Vocalese, you'll remember, was a style of jazz vocal
where a singer would take a jazz instrumental,
often an improvised one,
and add lyrics which they would sing,
like Lambert Hendrickson Ross's version of Cloudburst.
Whether Dave Lambert ever really did arrange for the smoothies or not,
it's very clear that the trio had a huge influence
on John Phillips's ideas about vocal arrangement,
as you can hear on Mommas and Popper's records like,
Once Was a Time I Thought.
Once was a time I thought that luck could be soldered bought
and everything fell in place for me.
The fashion of passion
I'd rush and with caution because of the notion
The potion of passion had never been passed to me
But since it was sunny and sunny I went for a stroll
But peanuts and pigeons and people put me in a home
A blessing refreshing and you did unfold
Dispelling, depressing, distressing salt from my soul
Once was a time I thought that luck could be sold or bald
While the smoothies thought of themselves as a jazz group,
when they sang to Decca, they started out making the standard teen pop of the era,
with songs like Softly.
When the folk boom started, Phillips realized that this was music that he could do easily,
because the level of musicianship among the pop folk musicians
was so much lower than in the jazz world.
The smoothies made some recordings in the style of the Kingston trio,
like Ride, Ride, Ride, Ride.
Then, when the smoothies split,
Phillips and McKenzie formed a trio with a banjo player, Dick Wiseman,
who they met through Izzy Young's folklore centre in Greenwich Village,
after Phillips asked Young to name some musicians who could make a folk record with him.
Wiseman was often considered the best banjo player on the scene,
and was a friend of Pete Seagas, to whom Seagas sometimes turned for banjo tips.
The trio, who called themselves the journeymen,
quickly established themselves on the folk scene.
Weisman later said,
We had this interesting balance.
John had all of this charisma.
They didn't know about the writing thing yet.
John had the personality.
Scott had the voice, and I could play.
If you think about it, all of those bands like the Kingston Trio, the Brothers Four,
nobody could really sing and nobody could really play, relatively speaking.
This is the take that most people seem to have about John Phillips in any band he was ever in.
Nobody thought he was a particularly good singer or instrumentalist.
He could sing on key and play adequate rhythm guitar,
but nobody would actually pay money to listen to him do those things.
Mark Vulman of The Turtles, for example, said of him,
John wasn't the kind of guy who was going to be able to go up on stage
and sing his songs as a singer-songwriter.
He had to put himself in the context of a group.
But he was charismatic, he had presents, and he also had a great musical mind.
He would surround himself with the best players and best singers he could,
and then he would organise and arrange them in ways that make sense.
the most of their talents. He would work out the arrangements in a manner that was far more
professional than the quick head arrangements as other folk groups used, and he instigated a level
of professionalism in his groups that was not at all common on the scene. Phillips's friend Jim
Mason talked about the first time he saw the journeyman. They were warming up backstage,
and John had all of them doing vocal exercises. One thing in particular is pretty famous called
Cibre syllables. It's a series of vocal exercises where you enunciate different vowel and consonants
sounds. It had the effect of clearing your head, and it's something that really good operetta
singers do. The group was soon signed by Frank Werber, the manager of the Kingston
Trio, who signed them as an insurance policy. Dave Gard, the Kingston Trio's banjo player,
was increasingly having trouble with the other members, and Werber knew it was only a matter
of time before he left the group. Werber wanted the journeymen as a sort of farm team. He had
the idea that when Gard left, Phillips would join the Kingston Trio in his place as the third
singer, Wiseman would become the trio's accompanist on banjo, and Scott McKenzie, who everyone
agreed had a remarkable voice, would be spun off as a solo artist. But until that happened,
they might as well make records by themselves. The Journeyman signed to MGM records but were
dropped before they recorded anything. They instead signed to Capital, for whom they recorded their
first album. After recording that album, the Journeyman moved out to California, with Phillips
his wife and children. But soon Phillips's marriage was to collapse as he met and fell in love with
Michelle Gilliam. Gilliam was nine years younger than him. He was 26 and she was 17, and she had the
kind of appearance which meant that in every interview with an older heterosexual man who knew her,
that man will spend half the interview talking about how attractive he found her.
Philip soon left his wife and children, but before he did, the group had a turntable hit
with River Come Down, the B-side to 500 miles.
Around the same time, Dave Garde did leave the Kingston trio, but the plan to split the journeymen never happened.
Instead, Phillips's friend John Stewart replaced Gard, and this soon became a new source of income for Phillips.
Both Phillips and Stewart were aspiring songwriters, and they collaborated together on several songs for the trio, including Chili Winds.
Sing it soft and love
Philips became particularly good at writing songs
that sounded like they could be old traditional folk songs,
sometimes taking odd lines from older songs to jumpstart new ones,
as in Oh Miss Mary,
which he and Stuart wrote after hearing someone sing the first line of a song
she couldn't remember the rest of.
Oh Miss Mary's coming home
when Mary was a young girl
she took to wandering
whenever would she leave me
and not come back again
That's where I hear her singing
Singing in the West area
Phillips and Stuart became so close
that Phillips actually suggested to Stuart
that he quit the Kingston trio
and replaced Dick Wiseman in the Journeyman.
Stuart did quit the trio
but then the next day Philip suggested
that maybe it was a bad idea
and he should stay where he was.
Stuart went back to the trio
claimed he had only pretended to quit
because he wanted a pay rise
and got his raise
so everyone ended up happy.
The journeyman moved back to New York
with Michelle in place of Phillips's first wife,
and Michelle's sister Russell also coming along
as she was dating Scott McKenzie,
and on New Year's Eve, 1962, John and Michelle married,
so from this point on I will refer to them by their first names
because they both had the surname Phillips.
The group continued having success through 1963,
including making appearances on Houtanani.
really lived and came to very untimely ends in or around New Orleans.
This song has kept them both alive.
The journeyman and stackily.
By the time of the journeyman's third album though,
John and Scott McKenzie were on bad terms.
Weissman said,
They had been the closest of friends
and now they were the worst of enemies.
They talked through me like I was a medium.
It got to the point where we'd be standing in the dressing room
and John would say to me,
tell Scott that his right sock doesn't match his left sock,
things like that when they were standing five feet away from each other.
Eventually, the group split up.
Weissman was always going to be able to find employment,
given his band durability,
and he was about to get married,
and didn't need the hassle of dealing with the other two.
Mackenzie was planning on a solo career.
Everyone was agreed that he had the vocal ability.
But John was another matter.
He needed to be in a group.
And not only that, the journeyman had bookings they needed to complete.
He quickly pulled together a group he called the New Journeyman.
The core of the line-up was himself, Michelle on vocals,
and banjo player Marshall Brickman.
Brickman had previously been a member of a folk group called the Tarriers,
who had had a revolving line up.
and have played on most of their early 60s recordings.
We've met the Terriers before in the podcast.
They had been formed by Eric Darling,
who later replaced Pete Seeger in The Weavers,
after Seeger's socialist principles wouldn't let him do advertising,
and Alan Arkin, later to go on to be a film star,
and had had hit with Cindy O'Sindy,
with lead vocals from Vince Martin,
who had later go on to be a major performer in the Greenwich Village scene,
and with the Banana Boat song.
By the time Brickman had joined, though,
Darling, Arkin and Martin
had all left the group to go on to bigger things
and while he played with them for several years
it was after their commercial peak
Brickman Wood would though also go on to a surprising amount of success
but as a writer rather than a musician
he had a successful collaboration with Woody Allen in the 1970s
co-writing four of Alan's most highly regarded films
Sleeper Annie Hall
Manhattan and Manhattan murder mystery
and with another collaborator he later co-wrote the books for the stage musicals, Jersey Boys and the Adams family.
Both John and Michelle were decent singers, and both have their admirers as vocalists.
P.F. Sloan always said that Michelle was the best singer in the group they eventually formed,
and that it was her voice that gave the group its sound.
But for the most part, they were not considered as particularly astonishing lead vocalists.
Certainly, neither had a voice that stood out the way Scott McKenzie's had.
they needed a strong lead singer, and they found one in Denny Doherty.
Now, we covered Denny Doherty's early career in the episode on The Loving Spoonful,
because he was intimately involved in the formation of that group.
So I won't go into too much detail here,
but I'll give a very abbreviated version of what I said there.
Doherty was a Canadian performer who had been a member of the Halifax 3 with Zalianovsky.
When I first came to this land, I was not a wealthy man,
So I got myself a farm and I did what I could.
So I got myself a farm, call that farm the muscle in my arm.
But the land was sweet and good and I did what I could.
After the Halifax 3 had split up,
Doherty and Yanofsky had performed as a duo for a while
before joining up with Cass Elliott and our husband Jim Hendrix,
who both had previously been in the big three with Tim Rose.
Don't you cry for me?
Because I'm going to Louisiana with a B-A-N-J-O.
Elliot, Hendrix, Yanofsky and Doherty had formed the Mugwumps,
sometimes joined by John Sebastian,
and had tried to go in more of a rock direction
after seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan.
They recorded one album together before splitting up.
Part of the reason they split up
was that interpersonal relationships within the group were put under some strain.
Elliot and Hendricks split up, though they would remain friends and remain married for several years,
even though they were living apart, and Elliot had an unrequited crush on Doherty.
But since they'd split up, and Yanofsky and Sebastian had gone off to form the loving spoonful,
that meant that Doherty was free, and he was regarded as possibly the best male lead vocalist on the circuit,
so the group snapped him up.
The only problem was that the Journeyman still had gigs booked that needs to be.
to be played. One of them was in just three days, and Doherty didn't know the repertoire.
This was a problem with an easy solution for people in their 20s, though. They took a huge amount
of amphetamins and stayed awake for three days straight rehearsing. They made the gig,
and Doherty was now the lead singer of the New Journeymen. But the New Journeymen didn't last
in that form for very long, because even before joining the group, Denny Doherty had been going
in a more folk rock direction with the mugwumps.
At the time, John Phillips thought rock and roll was kids' music,
and he was far more interested in folk and jazz,
but he was also very interested in making money,
and he soon decided it was an idea to start listening to the Beatles.
There's some dispute as to who first played the Beatles for John in early 1965.
Some claim it was Doherty, others claim it was Cass Elliott,
but everyone agrees it was after Danny Doherty had introduced Phillips to something else.
He brought around some LSD for John and Michelle's sister Rusty to try,
and then he told him he'd invited round a friend.
Michelle Phillips later remembered,
I remember saying to the guys,
I don't know about you guys, but this drug does nothing for me.
At that point there was a knock on the door,
and as I opened the door and saw Cass,
the acid hit me over the head.
I saw her standing there in a pleated skirt,
a pink hangar a sweater with great big eyelashes on,
and her hair in a flip.
And all of a sudden I thought,
this is really quite a drug.
It was an image I will have securely fixed in my brain for the rest of my life.
I said,
Hi, I'm Michelle, we just took some LSD 25, do you want to join us?
And she said, sure.
Rusty Gilliam's description matches this.
It was mind-boggling.
She had on a white pleated skirt, false eyelashes.
These were the kind of eyelashes that when you put them on,
you were supposed to trim them to an appropriate length, which she didn't.
And when she blinked, she looked like a cow,
or those dolls you get when you're little and the eyes open and close,
and wear on acid.
Oh my God, it was a sight.
And everything she was wearing were things that you weren't supposed to be wearing if you were heavy.
White pleated skirt, mohair sweater.
You know, until she became famous, she suffered so much and was poked fun at.
This gets to an important point about Elliot,
and one which sadly affected everything about her life.
Elliot was very fat.
I've seen her weight listed at about £300, and she was only 5 foot five tall,
and she also didn't have the kind of face that gets thought of as conventionally attractive.
her appearance would be cruelly mocked by pretty much everyone for the rest of her life,
in ways that it's genuinely hurtful to read about,
and which I will avoid discussing in detail in order to avoid hurting fat listeners.
But the two other things that defined Elliot in the minds of those who knew her,
were her voice, every single person who knew her talks about what a wonderful singer she was,
and her personality.
I've read a lot of things about Cass Elliott,
and I have never read a single negative word about her as a person,
but have read many people going into raptures
about what a charming, loving, friendly, understanding person she was.
Michelle later said of her,
from the time I left Los Angeles,
I hadn't had a friend, a buddy.
I was married and John and I did not hang out with women.
We just hung out with men,
and especially not with women my age.
John was nine years older than I was,
and here was a fun-loving, intelligent woman.
She captivated me.
I was as close to in love with Cass as I could be
to any woman in my life at that point.
She also represented something to me.
Freedom.
Everything she did was because she wanted to do it.
She was completely independent and I admired her and was in awe of her.
And later on, Cass would be the one to tell me not to let John run my life,
and John hated her for that.
Either Elliot had brought around Meet the Beatles,
the Beatles' first capital album, for everyone to listen to.
Or Denny Doherty already had it.
But either way, Elliot and Doherty were by this time already Beatles fans.
Michelle, being younger than the rest, and not part of the first,
folk scene until she met John, was much more interested in rock and roll than any of them.
But because she'd been married to John for a couple of years and been part of his musical world,
she hadn't really encountered the Beatles' music, though she had a vague memory that she might
have heard a track or two on the radio. John was hesitant. He didn't want to listen to any rock and roll,
but eventually he was persuaded, and the record was put on while he was on his first acid trip.
Within a month, John Phillips had written 30 songs that he thought of as inspired by the Beatles.
the new Journeymen were going to go rock and roll.
By this time, Marshall Brickman was out of the band,
and instead John, Michelle, and Denny recruited a new league guitarist, Eric Horde.
Denny started playing bass with John on rhythm guitar,
and a violinist friend of theirs, Peter Palafian,
knew a bit of drums and took on that role.
The new lineup of the group used the journeymen's credit card,
which hadn't been stopped, even though the journeymen were no more,
to go down to St. Thomas in the Caribbean,
along with Michelle's sister, John's daughter Mackenzie, from whose name Scott McKenzie had taken
his stage name as he was born Philip Blondheim, a pet dog, and sundry band members' girlfriends.
They stayed there for several months, living in tents on the beach, taking acid and rehearsing.
While they were there, Michelle and Denny started an affair which would have important ramifications
for the group later. They got a gig playing at a club called Duffies, whose address was on Creaky Alley,
and soon after they started playing there, Cass Elliott travelled down as well.
She was in love with Denny and wanted to be around him.
She wasn't in the group, but she got a job working at Duffy's as a waitress,
and she would often sing harmony with the group while waiting at tables.
Depending on who was telling the story,
either she didn't want to be in the group because she didn't want her appearance to be compared to Michelle's,
or John wouldn't let her be in the group because she was so fat.
Later, a story would be made up to cover for this,
saying that she hadn't been in the group at first because she didn't be in the group at first
because she couldn't sing the highest notes that were needed
until she got hit on the head with a metal pipe
and discovered that it had increased her range by three notes.
But that seems to be a lie.
One of the songs the New Journeymen were performing at this time
was Mr Tambourine Man.
They'd heard that their old friend Roger McGuin had recorded it with his new band,
but they hadn't yet heard his version,
and they'd come up with their own arrangement.
Denny later said,
We were doing three-part harmony on Mr. Tambourine
man, but a lot slower, like a polka or something. And I tell John, no John we got to slow it down
and give it a backbeat. Finally, we get the birds 45 down here and we put it on and turn it up to 10.
And John says, oh, like that. Well, as you can tell, it had already been done. So John goes,
Oh, ah, that's it! A light went on. So we started doing Beatles stuff. We dropped Mr.
Tambourine man after hearing the birds version because there was no point. Eventually they had to leave the
island. They had completely run out of money and were down to $50. The credit card had been cut up
and the governor of the island had a personal vendetta against them because they gave his son acid,
and they were likely to get arrested if they didn't leave the island. Elliot and her then partner
had round-trip tickets, so they just left, but the rest of them were in trouble. By this point
they were unwashed, they were homeless, and they'd spent their last money on stage costumes. They got to
the airport and John Phillips tried to write a check for eight airfares back to the mainland,
which the person at the check-in desk just laughed at, so they took their last $50 and went to a casino.
There Michelle played craps, and she rolled 17 straight passes, something which should be
statistically impossible. She turned their $50 into $6,000, which they scooped up, took to the airport,
and paid for their flights out in cash. The new journeymen arrived back in New York, but quickly decided
that they were going to try their look in California.
They rented a car using Scott McKenzie's credit card
and drove out to L.A.
There they met up with Hoyt Axton,
who you may remember as the son of May Axton,
the writer of Heartbreak Hotel,
and as the performer who had inspired Michael Nesmith
to go into folk music.
Axton knew the group,
and fed them and put them up for a night,
but they needed somewhere else to stay.
They went to stay with one of Michelle's friends,
but after one night their rented car
was stolen with all their possessions in it. They needed somewhere else to stay, so they went to
ask Jim Hendricks if they could crash at his place, and they were surprised to find that Cass Elliott
was there already. Hendricks had another partner, though he and Elliot wouldn't have their
marriage annulled until 1968, and were still technically married, but he'd happily invited
her to stay with them. And now all her friends had turned up, he invited them to stay as well,
taking apart the beds in his one-bedroom apartment, so he could put down a load of mattresses in the space
for everyone to sleep on.
The next part becomes difficult
because pretty much everyone in the LA music scene of the 60s
was a liar who liked to embellish their own roles in things,
so it's quite difficult to unpick what actually happened.
What seems to have happened, though,
is that first this new rock-oriented version of the New Journeyman
went to see Frank Werber on the recommendation of John Stewart.
Werber was the manager of the Kingston trio,
and had also managed the Journeyman.
He, however, was not interested.
not because he didn't think they had talent,
but because he had experience of working with John Phillips previously.
When Phillips came into his office,
Werbe picked up a tape he'd been given of the group and said,
I have not had a chance to listen to this tape.
I believe that you are our most talented individual,
and that's why we took you on in the first place.
But I also believe that you're also a drag to work with,
a pain in the ass.
So I'll tell you what.
Before whatever you have on here sways me,
I'm going to give it back to you and say that we're not interested.
Meanwhile, and this part of the story comes from Kim Fowley,
who has never one to let the truth get in the way of him taking claim for everything,
but parts of it at least are corroborated by other people.
Cass Elliott had called Fowley and told him that her friend's new group sounded pretty good,
and he should sign them.
Fowley was at that time working as a talent scout for a label,
but according to him the label wouldn't give the group the money they wanted.
So instead, Fowley got in touch with Nick Vennett,
who had just produced the Leaves hit version of Hayes,
Joe on Mirror Records.
Fowley suggested to Venet
that Venet should sign the group to Mirror Records
and Farley would sign them to a publishing contract
and they could both get rich.
The trio went to audition for Venet and Elliot
drove them over and Venet thought the group had a great look
as a quartet. He wanted to sign them to a record
contract but only of Elliot was in the group as well.
They agreed he gave them a $150 advance
and told them to come back the next day to see his boss at Mira.
But Barry McGuire was also hanging around with Elliot and Hendricks,
and decided that he wanted to have Lou Adler hear the four of them.
He thought they might be useful both as backing vocalists on his second album
and as a source of new songs.
He got them to go and see Lou Adler,
and according to Maguire, Phillips didn't want Elliot to go with them.
But as Elliot was the one who was friends with Maguire,
Phillips worried that they'd lose the chance with Adler if she didn't.
Adler was amazed and decided to sign the group right then and there.
Both Bones Howe and P.F Sloane claimed to have been there when the group auditioned for him
and have said, if you won't sign them, I will. Though exactly what Sloan would have signed them to,
I'm not sure. Adler paid them $3,000 in cash and told him not to bother with Nick Venet,
so they just didn't turn up for the Mera Records audition the next day. Instead, they went into the
studio with Maguire and cut backing vocals on about half of his new album. While the group were
excellent vocalists. There were two main reasons that Adler wanted to sign them. The first was that
he found Michelle Phillips extremely attractive, and the second is a song that John and Michelle had written,
which he thought might be very suitable for McGuire's album. Most people who knew John Phillips
think of California Dreaming as a solo composition, and he would later claim that he gave Michelle
50% just for transcribing his lyric, saying he got inspired in the middle of the night,
woke her up, and got her to write the song down as he came up with it. But Michelle,
Michelle, who is accredited co-writer on the song, has been very insistent that she wrote the lyrics
to the second verse, and that it is about her own real experiences, saying that she would often
go into churches and light candles, even though she was, at best an agnostic and possibly
an atheist, in her words. And this would annoy John, who had also been raised Catholic,
but who had become aggressively opposed to expressions of religion, rather than still having
nostalgia for the aesthetics of the church, as Michelle did. They were outwalking and a
particularly cold winter's day in 1963, and Michelle wanted to go into St. Patrick's Cathedral,
and John very much did not want to. A couple of nights later, John woke her up, having written the
first verse of the song, starting, all the leaves are brown and the sky is grey, I went for a walk on a
winter's day, and insisting she collaborate with him. She liked the song, and came up with the lines,
stopped into a church, I passed along the way, I got down on my knees and I pretend to pray. The preacher
likes the cold, he knows I'm going to stay, which drum would later apparently dislike,
but which stayed in the song. Most sources I've seen for the recording of California Dreaming
say that the line-up of musicians was the standard set of players who had played on McGuire's
other records, with the addition of John Phillips on 12-string guitar, P.F. Sloan on guitar
and harmonica, Joe Osborne on bass, Larry Neckle on keyboards, and Hal Blaine on drums. But for some reason,
Stephen McParlane's book on Sloane has bones how down as playing drums on the track
while engineering, a detail so weird and from such a respectable researcher, that I have to wonder
if it might be true. In his autobiography, Sloan claims to have rewritten the chord sequence
to California Dreaming. He says, Barry Mann had unintentionally shown me a suspended chord back at
Screen Gems. I was so impressed by this beautiful simple chord that I called Brian Wilson
and played it for him over the phone. The next thing I knew, Brian had written Don't
worry baby, which had within it a number suspended chords, and then the chord heard round the
world, two months later, was the opening suspended chord of a hard day's night. I used these
chords throughout California dreaming, and more specifically as a bridge to get back and forth from
the verse to the chorus. Now, nobody else corroborates this story, and both Brian Wilson and John
Phillips had the kind of background in modern harmony that means they would have been very aware
of suspended chords before either ever encountered Sloan. But,
I thought I should mention it.
Rather more plausible is Sloan's other claim
that he came up with the intro to the song.
According to Sloan,
he was inspired by Walk Don't Run by The Ventures,
and you can easily see how this
can lead to this.
And I'm fairly certain that if that was the inspiration,
it was Sloan, who was the one who thought it up.
John Phillips had been paying no attention to the world of surf music
when Walk Don't Run had been a hit.
That had been at the point when he was very first,
firmly in the folk world, while Sloan, of course, had been recording Tellam I'm surfing,
and it had been his job to know surf music intimately. So Sloan's intro became the start
of what was intended to be Barry McGuire's next single. Sloan also provided the harmonica
solo on the track. The mom was on the poppers, the new name that was now given to the former
new journeyman, now they were a quartet, were also signed to Dunhill as an act on their own,
and recorded their own first single, Go Where You Want to Go, a song apparently. A song apparently
written by John about Michelle in late 1963,
after she had briefly left him to have an affair with Russ Titleman,
the record producer and songwriter,
before coming back to him.
But while that was put out,
they quickly decided to scrap it and go with another song.
The Go Where You Want a Go single
was pulled after only selling a handful of copies,
though its commercial potential was later proved,
when in 1967 a new vocal group,
The Fifth Dimension,
released a sound-like version
as their second single. The track was produced by Lou Adler's client Johnny Rivers
and used the exact same musicians as the Mama's and the Popper's version, with the exception of Phillips.
It became their first hit, reaching number 16 on the charts. The reason the Momas and the Popper's
version of Go Where You Wanna Go was pulled was because everyone became convinced that their first
single should instead be their own version of California Dreaming. This is the exact same track
as McGuire's track with just two changes. The first is that McGuire's lead vocal was
replaced with Denny Doherty. Though if you listen to the stereo mix of the song and isolate
the left channel, you can hear Maguire singing the lead on the first line, and occasional
leakage from him elsewhere on the backing vocal track. The other change made was to replace Sloan's
harmonica solo with an alto flute solo by Bud Shank, a jazz musician who we heard about in the episode
on Light My Fire, when he collaborated with Ravi Shankar on improvisations on the theme from
Patherpan Charlie. Shank was working on another session in Western Studios, where they were recording
the Mama's and Popper's track, and Bones Howe approached him while he was packing his instrument,
and asked if he'd be interested in doing another session. Shank agreed, though the track caused
problems for him. According to Shank, what had happened was that when they had made the original
backing track, they had apparently not lined it up with anything with firm pitch. It was only guitars,
and it was in the cracks. Really in the cracks. I listened to the song,
enough to learn it, then I pulled a head joint out of my alto flute about an inch and played it up
half a step, and somehow or other we lined it up pitchwise. It sounded kind of strange and it
really blew my mind, but that was because my fingers were going in spots where they normally
wouldn't go. According to Lou Adler, the flute solo is spliced together from two takes,
at the point where the solo goes up an octave. California Dreamin made the charts in January
1966 and eventually reached number four. But even though it didn't make number one,
it stayed on the chart so long that Cashbox magazine later listed it as the biggest hit of
1966. The follow-up, Monday Monday, written by John Phillips Alone, did reach number one.
That also won the group of Grammy for Best Pop Performance by a duo or group with vocal.
It was also nominated for the Best Contemporary Rock and Roll Recording Grammy, but lost out there,
as did the other nominees, Last Train to Clarksville, Good Vibrations, Eleanor Rigby, and Cherish, to Winchester Cathedral.
The group's first album, from which both those singles were taken, is generally considered the one on which John Phillips' reputation as a songwriter.
Mark Vulman of The Turtle said, John was a really good songwriter who really hit his peak with one album.
I mean, he wasn't like John Sebastian, who wrote and wrote and was a working-class songwriter.
John Phillips hit his stride one album.
If you listen to that first album,
if you can believe your eyes and ears,
it was John's one contribution.
If you go to the next album,
those songs were not as great.
There were sporadic moments of good songwriting,
but John Phillips's contribution
to the landscape of musical history
was on that one album.
Even there, only seven songs on the album
were originals,
with the other five being cover versions,
or, in the case of their version of you, baby,
a hit for the Turtles,
they used a track that Sloan and Barry had recorded as a demo,
onto which the group overdubbed new vocals.
During the recording of the first album,
the group were all living together and getting on great.
They made occasional live appearances.
Their first performance as the Mommas and the Poppers
was a rather impromptu one at the action,
where the Mothers of Invention were the house band,
and the Mommas and the Poppers got up between their sets
to do a performance with just the four voices and a 12-string guitar,
to a certain amount of confusion on the part of the audience.
But for the most part, they were just rehearsing and recording,
and they got on great.
But that wasn't to last.
There's an anecdote from Guy Webster,
who photographed the group's first album cover.
He said,
I said, this'll probably be the last time where we get together like this,
where you'll want to shoot the cover.
And they said,
What are you talking about?
That's ridiculous.
And I told them that it's just the nature of the business
that little petty things come in and out of relationships
in groups that are together.
and after a while they don't even want to see you.
I had photographed the Stones,
and Brian Jones, who was a friend of mine,
was kind of on the outs with the group,
and nobody wanted to pose together.
I'm telling this to the mommas and the poppers,
and they're like,
yeah, right.
Well, the next session,
it was almost impossible to get the four of them together.
That's how fast the insidiousness of the business
started to splinter the group.
The thing that really caused problems, though,
was when John found out about Michelle and Denny's relationship,
which ended as soon as John found out.
John was hurt because his wife had been having an affair,
and Denny was hurt because the affair had ended,
although both men took what one might call a poppers before Mama's approach,
and decided that it was Michelle's fault for being a temptress.
Michelle moved out, but John and Denny stayed living together,
bonding more closely over their shared blaming of the woman they both loved.
Meanwhile, Cass Elliott was hurt.
She was in love with Denny,
and while that love was unrequited
Cass thought that Michelle could have
literally any man she wanted
so why go for the man Cass was in love with?
Doherty and John Phillips wrote
I saw her again about the affair
and it became the group's third single
though Michelle always said that it was immensely cruel
that they'd made her sing on the song
I Saw Her Again is notable for one other reason as well
At one point Denny Doherty came in at the wrong place
caught himself and then came in at the right spot
Originally, Bones Howe was going to edit out the mistake, but Lou Adler said to leave it in.
For a while, the group continued working together, even though everything was strained.
But while John and Michelle were split up, Michelle started having an affair with Jean Clark, formerly of the Birds,
who apparently later wrote, tried so hard about their breakup.
Clark came to see what she said she really had to go.
Clark came to see one of the group's shows, which happened to be on Michelle's 22nd birthday,
June 4th, 1966, and sat in the front row, and Michelle sang at him the entire show.
That was the last straw for John Phillips, who persuaded the rest of the group that they needed to sack Michelle.
They sent her a letter reading,
Dear Michelle, this letter is to inform you that the undersigned no longer desire to record or perform with you in the future.
Moreover, the undersigned desired to terminate any business relationship with you that may have
heretofore existed. To the extent there may have been any agreement between us creating a partnership,
the undersigned elect to terminate and dissolve any such partnership,
pursuant to California Corporation Code Section 15031, Brackets 1, Brackets B.
This letter should not be construed as an admission that any such partnership exists.
Nothing contained in this letter should be construed as a waiver, abandonment or relinquishment of any right or remedy
which the undersigned and each of them may have against you.
All such rights and remedies are expressly reserved,
very truly yours.
Michelle was devastated,
since this was basically her being cut out of the lives of everyone important to her.
As she put it in her autobiography,
since it was from the mamas and the poppers,
it was therefore from my husband,
from my best friend,
from my lover,
from my manager,
my label,
and my attorney.
On her 22nd birthday,
her entire emotional and professional support,
system had been taken away from her.
As a replacement, they got in Jill Gibson.
Gibson had been Jan Berry's girlfriend,
though they'd split up shortly before Jan's accident,
and she'd had a bit of a recording career as a result of the connection.
We heard her earlier on Move On Little Mustang,
and she also co-wrote It's as Easy as One, Two, Three, with Donne Holtfeld,
which was released as her Jan and Dean B-side,
but had Gibson's singing lead.
Gibson also looked quite like Michelle.
They had different jaw lines, but there was a passing resemblance,
semblance, especially from the distance as concert audience as saw performers, and she was dating
Lou Adler. She could sing, she knew the material, and she was in. Work had already started on the
second Mama's and Popper's album, but Jill replaced Michelle's vocals on some, but not all, of the tracks.
They'd even already taken a cover photo, so Guy Webster was called in to take a photo of Jill in
exactly the same pose Michelle had been in, and paste her into the photo in Michelle's place.
Jill was in the group for three months
but while she was told it was a permanent position
almost from the start there seems to have been talk of getting Michelle back
John and Michelle had almost daily phone calls
which according to Michelle basically amounted to John saying
that he wanted her back as his wife but he could no longer work with her
and her saying that she wanted to be back in the group
but wasn't interested in getting back together with him
but something was missing from the band's sound
Jill was a good singer, by some accounts a better singer than Michelle.
But Michelle had a harsher, brassier sound,
which contrasted well with Elliot and Doherty's voices.
Michelle was the youngest of the group members,
and the one who more than any of them was interested in rock and roll,
and Lou Adler said of her,
I think she would have loved to have been a Annette or one of the Shangri-Lars.
Without that slight abrasive quality, the harmonies were missing something.
Eventually they reconciled, at least for a while.
and Michelle was back in the marriage and the group,
with Jill being given an undisclosed large sum of money as a payoff.
Michelle then replaced some of Jill's vocals on the album,
some of which had in turn been replacements for Michelle,
and nobody is sure anymore which songs have Michelle,
which have Jill, which have both,
and which have Cass Elliot overdubbing herself instead of either of them,
though it's almost certain Jill is on about six of the 12 tracks,
including Trips Stumble and Fall,
which John and Michelle had written together.
As well as the problems between John and Michelle, there were other problems starting with the second album.
For the first album, the group had been living together for months beforehand and spending all their time together,
so they knew the material, and the material had been written around the group members' individual voices and shaped with them.
Now, the only time they saw each other was in the recording studio or on tour,
and so they no longer had the chemistry they used to, and nor did they have the familiarity with the material.
Everyone was developing their own problems as well.
Both John Phillips and Cass Elliott were heavy drug users,
while Denny Doherty was becoming an alcoholic,
and everyone talks about how they had to arrange sessions
so that Doherty's vocals would be recorded during the window of time
between him having drunk enough to loosen up
and having drunk so much that he couldn't sing.
Also, John Phillips's stock of material had run dry,
and they were so desperate for new material
that when they were asked to guest on a TV show
celebrating the songs of Rogers and Heart,
they ended up using a song they recorded for the show on the album.
Not only that, but they took another song from the show,
Here in My Arms,
and turned it into an original,
No Salt on Her Tale.
John Phillips wrote new lyrics and melody to the existing track.
To make the borrowing not quite so obvious,
they got in organist Ray Manzarek,
whose band The Doors was still unsigned at the time,
to overdub a keyboard part.
According to Manzarek, Adler tried to just pay him $20 for the session.
Adler's response was,
I have no recollection of that.
Boy, I doubt it.
I have no memory of that.
He remembers a lot of things about me,
but the lack of material wasn't too much of a problem.
As Doherty would later say,
at that point the momentum we'd created carried a lot of it.
If we got one hit from each album, that was enough.
One good single sold the album,
and it didn't matter about the album cuts or whatever else.
else was on the album. But there were other problems happening too as the group moved into
recording their third album. Cass Elliott was becoming increasingly distant from the rest of the group.
She got pregnant and wouldn't even tell the rest of them who the father was, and she was
constantly butting heads with John Phillips. Phillips thought of himself as the group's leader,
and in his mind, by being able to fire and rehire his own wife. He approved his dominance over
the group. Michelle had been put firmly in her place by this and wasn't making waves, and Doherty
he was a naturally placid person.
But while Elliot was hard-working,
she insisted on knowing why certain things were being done.
She wouldn't take direction from Phillips
without understanding his reasoning,
and Phillips was becoming increasingly unwilling
to accommodate that kind of thing.
Between the problems in his marriage,
his writer's block,
and his worsening drug problems,
he was becoming aggressive towards anyone he viewed as a challenge,
even the musicians who'd been helping him make his hit records,
where previously he would ask P.F. Sloan
to come up with his own guitar,
part. Now he was dictating them and shouting at Sloan when he suggested an idea. He would also
sometimes add or drop bars during the recording without realizing he was doing so, and then scream at
Hal Blaine for doing it wrong when Blaine played the part as written. At one point Blaine actually
almost came to blows with him, the only time in 40 years as a studio musician that he came
close to attacking an artist. The third album then was stressful for everyone, though perhaps not as
stressful as some of the stories about the group would later claim. Pretty much everyone involved
would say that Cass Elliott was recording her parts for the album even up to the day she went into labour,
but in fact her daughter wasn't born until two months after the record came out, though that's
not to minimise how hard she had to work being pregnant while making the album. And there are other
stories about having to mic Denny Doherty up while he was lying flat on his back on top of her
piano, too drunk to stand up, to get vocal takes. But the album,
the momas and the poppers deliver did produce two big hits.
One was a song suggested by Michelle.
When the group had been looking for cover versions,
she'd kept suggesting hits from her teenage years
which the rest of the group didn't know.
Like, I'm a hog for you baby by the coasters.
He's a rebel, and will you love me tomorrow?
Eventually she hit on a song which had been a hit in 1962 for the Churrells.
John came up with an arrangement of that,
and it made number two on the charts,
becoming the fifth of the group's six top five singles,
and the only one with a lead from Michelle.
The sixth and final top five hit for the group,
also on that album,
was a song John and Michelle had written
to explain the group's history to Lou Adler.
The group had constantly been talking about all the folk rock stars
they'd known and been in bands with before any of them were successful,
and Creaky Allie told the whole story.
After the release of the Mommas and the Poppers Deliver,
John and Michelle took on a new project,
one which would end up being one of the most important things they would ever do.
Jim Dixon, the manager of the Birds, was in the process of splitting away from the band,
but he had recently organised a rather big Benefit concert featuring Hugh Massacela,
the South African Jazz Trumpeter, who had recently guested on the Bird single,
So You Want to Be a Rock and Roll star.
Massacela had enjoyed the Benefit show,
and had suggested to Dixon and his co-promoter Alan Pariser that they might want to put on another similar show.
Massacela's initial idea was to do it in Mexico, but Dixon thought about the likely audience,
most the American hippies, and what would happen to several thousand long-haired drug users
at the border between the two countries, and decided to do it closer to home.
They decided that Monterey might be an option.
Monterey is a town in Central California, about 80 miles south of San Francisco, and about
300 miles north of L.A., and it's already had an established and long-running annual jazz festival,
and a more recently established folk festival.
Why not a pop festival?
At least that's the way Dixon told the story.
The way Steve Stills would always tell the story,
it had all been Stills' idea
and he'd suggested the whole thing,
including the location, to Parisa.
They got in touch with Benny Shapiro,
who ran the Monterey Folk Festival
to get some advice as to how to put something like that on in Monterey,
and through him they booked the first act other than Massacela.
Shapiro was Ravi Shankar's West Coast promoter
and offered them Shankar's services for $3,000.
Shankar was at the time probably the single most admired musician
among the hip crowd of musicians,
and with him on board they could get anyone they wanted.
The next people they asked were the mamas and the poppers,
and at that point everything changed.
John Phillips and Lou Adler both fell heavily in love
with the idea of doing a big pop festival,
the first one devoted to pop music rather than jazz or folk.
As it happened, it took so long to set up
that Montere would end up being the second pop festival
as the Fantasy Fair and Magic Mountain Music Festival
near San Francisco happened just the week before,
with several of the same acts.
But Monterey, which took place over the weekend
between the first two Beatles recording sessions for All You Needers' Love,
became the model which all future rock and pop festivals would follow,
and gets regarded by most as the start of the Summer of Love.
Phillips and Adler had a vision,
and they quickly bought out the original promoters
and took on the work themselves.
they were going to make it a charity benefit,
so none of the musicians would get paid for their appearances
or for the film and live album they planned of the festival,
except Ravi Shankar, whose contract had already been signed,
and who said that he wasn't going to work for free.
But nobody else would be paid.
John, Michelle and Adler did most of the organisational work for the festival,
with some help from Al Cooper and Derek Taylor,
but they pulled together an advisory board of their friends in the music industry,
including Elliot, Lenin and Merritt,
McCartney, Andrew Oldham, Simon and Garfunkel, and Brian Wilson. Those people mostly did very
little, with one exception we'll get to in a minute, but they all pitched in money to help pay for
the festival's costs, and they also made suggestions of which artists to include. The Beatles and
Oldham suggested the hot names from the British scene, Eric Burden and his new animals, the Jimmy
Hendrix experience and the Who, the latter two of whom had not yet had any real success in the US,
and also suggested that Otis Redding, Lou Rolls, and Buckety and the MGs be included on the bill.
Meanwhile, the LA contingent were getting their own friends involved,
and so as well as the Mama's and the Poppers, the Beach Boys were booked to headline,
though they pulled out for reasons we'll discuss in episode 153,
and the birds and Buffalo Springfield were on the bill,
as was the Dunhill Act, Johnny Rivers.
But if they were going to hold a festival near San Francisco,
they also needed to get some of the local San Francisco bands on the
bill. A huge music scene had sprung up there almost overnight, which we're going to look at
in future episodes, and they would have to acknowledge that in some way. But there was a problem.
That scene had set itself up very consciously in opposition to the music coming out of LA,
which was against everything they stood for. It was Hollywood and plastic and commercial,
and made by big corporations. The San Francisco groups wouldn't even speak to any of the LA
groups. So Paul Simon was enlisted as an ambassador. He was neutral in the war between Northern and
Southern California, as he was from New York. So he made the throat trip into enemy territory
visiting the Grateful Dead in San Francisco and coming back with their list of demands.
The Grateful Dead, if they were going to do the show, wanted a day basically put aside for
the San Francisco scene. They wanted Big Brother in the Holding Company, Country Joe and the Fish,
quick silver messenger service
and Jefferson Airplane all on
and all on the same day
as it eventually worked out
all those acts did play
and all on the same day
but the Grateful Dead actually played the day after their San
Francisco peers but an agreement had
been reached and John Phillips had come up
with a theme song for the event
after Scott McKenzie had left the journeyman
his career had floundered
he had tried for a solo career
and had signed to capital records
and recorded two singles for them
But tracks like his version of the old Webb-Pierce country hit,
There Stands the Glass, had not exactly set the world on fire.
Capital had dropped him, and then he'd sign with epic records,
and John Phillips had written no, no, no, for him, which Adler had produced.
By 1967, Mackenzie was despondent.
He was staying with the Phillipses in their house,
and one day Paul McCartney had come to visit.
Mackenzie had given McCartney and Mal Evans a lift to the airport,
and McCartney had asked him what he did for a living.
Mackenzie said he was a singer,
and McCartney asked what kind of things he sang,
and Mackenzie realized he didn't know what kind of things he sang.
John Phillips told him they would have to find something for him to see,
sing, so then he would know. By this point, Lou Adler had sold his shares in Dunhill to his business
partners, and had started up a new label, Owed, with Mackenzie as his first signing. He got John Phillips to
write a song for Mackenzie to sing, and John decided to make the song a message to anyone who was
going to be travelling to the festival, to tell them that they should be cool and relaxed and not cause
problems for anyone. The recording was arranged hastily and in secret. They thought that Cass and Denny might
complain about Phillips giving hits away to other artists, and they also worried that Adler's
erstwhile partners might cause problems for John writing a song for anyone not on Dunhill.
The song was released as a single, a month before the festival, and became a worldwide hit,
going top five in the USA and making number one in the UK.
The Monterey International Pop Festival is something we're going to be coming back to time
and again in the next few months, which is why I placed this episode at this point in the narrative,
at the start of a new year of stories.
In many ways it is the pivotal moment in the transition between pop and rock music.
It was referred to as a pop festival,
and at this point rock and roll was not a term that most successful bands would have used for themselves.
Rock and roll either meant music from the 50s like Elvis and Gene Vincent,
or it meant girl groups and soul singers.
The Supremes were a rock and roll group.
Bands like the Beatles or the Rolling Stones would never have referred to themselves as rock,
bands at this point. There were pop groups, R&B bands, not rock bands. But Monterey was where
that started to change, and it was where the narrative of what artists mattered to the hippie
generation was rarely set. And in the war for the minds of the hippie generation, San Francisco
beat L.A. so completely that it distorted the whole of rock history for decades, something that
wasn't helped with the dawn of rock journalism happening around the same time, and being
dominated by the San Francisco partisans at Rolling Stone.
This even though, right up until the last minute, it was entirely possible that none of the
San Francisco bands would even play. Many of them were being managed by Bob Dylan's
manager Albert Grossman, who was well known for his extreme approach to management and
vinksmanship, and he was attempting to renegotiate some of the contracts, even as bands were
going on stage. We're going to look at many of these performances in greater detail in future,
as we deal with many of these bands and artists in their own episodes.
But the San Francisco bands were younger and hungry
and playing to the biggest audiences they'd ever played to,
and so bands like Jefferson Airplane gave tight, convincing performances.
While the unknown band Big Brother and the Holding Company,
with their lead singer Janice Joplin,
became many people's highlight of the show
with their version of Big Mama Thornton's Bull and Chain.
While the San Francisco bands blew everyone away,
L.A. was much, much less well represented.
The Beach Boys had dropped out,
and they decided not to invite the monkeys,
even though they were the biggest band in the world at that point,
because even the L.A. plastic Hollywood types
thought they were above that kind of thing.
The both Mickey Dolans and Peter Tork came along anyway,
and Tork introduced his friends the Buffalo Springfield.
So the two most commercial acts from L.A. at the time weren't there.
As for the up-and-coming acts,
Love were invited, but Arthur Lee wouldn't travel out of
L.A. The mothers of invention were playing a month-long residency in New York on the other side of
the continent, and Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band had to pull out shortly before the event
after their guitarist, Rai Kuda, quit. And I've seen multiple explanations for why the doors
weren't going to be playing, with some of the band members, notably Manzarek, saying it was
because Lou Adler resented them for becoming successful after he'd turned them down. But other explanations
I've seen include that the band were dealing with various small life emergencies like minor
surgery and family members having kids, and that they were booked to play in New York,
so that left the established but not absolute top-tier LA Act.
The Association, who opened the whole festival, actually gave one of the tightest performances
of the weekend.
Unfortunately, while they did a great set musically, they looked out of place.
They had the same kind of suits, haircuts and stage formation as the Beatles or Stones had
in 1965.
In June 1967, a band looking like that might as well have been from the medieval era,
and their performance wasn't even used in the film of the event.
Johnny Rivers was wildly out of place with his set of 50s covers,
and Buffalo Springfield were missing their guitarist Neil Young.
David Crosby sat in with them in his place,
and while they managed just about to get through the set,
they generally considered it an embarrassment.
And Crosby also dominated the birds' set,
where they refused to play any of their old hits
and instead did a set that sounds almost garage punk.
Even though it had been organised entirely by LA people,
the Monterey International Pop Festival
seemed almost specifically designed to prove the San Francisco musicians right.
On the evidence of that weekend,
the LA groups were a bunch of poses who couldn't really play
and relied on clever record production
to make themselves seem half decent.
And that's largely how the LA scene went down.
in the first drafts of rock history as a result.
But the real highlights of the festival
weren't from either of the war in Californian scenes.
Rather, they were the acts that had been suggested
by the Beatles and Oldham.
Otis Redding's performance was the set that brought him
to the attention of the white rock audience,
who had previously been largely unaware
of how astonishing he was.
And while the Grateful Dead had been seen as the one band
that they must get,
half the oral histories of the event
literally forget that they were there,
because they were on between the two big,
biggest breakout stars of the show. At this point, while the Who were in the very top tier of
bands in the UK, with seven top ten hits, and were regarded by their peers as the most exciting
live act around, they'd only had one top 30 hit in the US with their most recent single
Happy Jack, which was not regarded as their best work, and which had only got to number 24.
The Who's show was devastating, with a psychedelic light show, Keith Moon setting off smoke bombs,
and at the end of the set, Pete Townsend smashing his guitar to pieces while Moon smashed his drum kit up,
as technicians busily ran around the stage trying to limit the damage being done to the festival's equipment.
But as well as the pyrotechnics, there was also actual musical quality to their performance.
After that, the Who went on a 55-day-to-US tour as the support actor to her.
Herman's Hermits. The other breakout Monterey Act, the Jimmy Hendrix experience, also toured
on a similarly incongruous bill, after Mickey Dolan saw them at the festival and invited
them to be the Monkees Support Act. The Grateful Dead stuck between those two Powerhouse Live
acts, gave what they would later claim was one of their worst performances.
It will have been 20 years since the Monterey Pop Festival, which was considered a stellar
event in pop music history. We played badly there.
We want to remember.
We played really badly there.
Well, that was one of our classic bad scenes.
We came on the stage just after the Who finished smashing their equipment for the first time in America.
You know what I mean?
This is, ah, the audience is devastated, you know.
The Who are beautifully theatrical.
This is clouds of smoke and explosions, and they're clearing away the debris, you know.
So we come out and play our little set, you know, ting, ding, ding.
And then Jimmy Hendrix comes on after us and annihilates any remnant of any, you know.
I mean, if anybody noticed this, that was it.
It was erased from existence, and I was like,
come on, you know, that was where we were on the show.
Though the one song from their performance that was filmed,
a version of Viola Lee Blues
that's in the special features of the Criterium Blu-ray edition
of the film of the festival,
is perfectly fine, if hardly life-changing.
And then the Jimmy Hendrix experience came on,
and Hendrix was determined to overshadow the Who.
Hendricks had had three top ten hit singles in the UK in the previous six months,
but had not yet charted in the US.
A-A-side version of Purple Hays and the Wind Cries Mary
was released the same weekend as the festival,
presumably in the hopes of capitalising on any publicity from it,
but it only reached the heady heights of number 67 in the charts.
But the group's performance at Monterey was one that nobody would ever forget.
It had already been set up by David Crosby the day before,
when he'd introduced the bird's version of Hey Joe
by talking about love, the leaves, Timrose and
a cat who's going to perform here, Jimmy Hendricks.
Hendricks was still so new to songwriting
that half the experience has set was cover versions,
including, of course, their own version of Hay Joe.
And the closing song, a version of Wild Thing.
Hendrix first played the song,
then while the other musicians continued playing
he humped his guitar and then for a finale
and a way to one-up Tanzan smashing his guitar
took a can of lighter fluid
held it out at approximately penis height
squirted the fluid all over his guitar
then set it on fire
before smashing it
the sound you hear here
is the sound of the crackling flames
being picked up by the guitar's pickups
and feeding back through the amps
watching the footage of that performance
large chunks of the audience don't seem to know what's going on,
but Michelle Phillips, Cass Elliott and Mickey Dolan's
all seemed to be in states of utter ecstasy watching him.
One person who wasn't so ecstatic was Ravi Shankar.
He'd thought Simon and Garfunkel were extremely good on the first night,
and he'd been very impressed by both Otis Redding and Janice Joplin,
who he thought sang from her guts like some of the olden days jazz singers.
But to a man to whom music was holy,
smashing a musical instrument was sacrilege,
and after Hendricks came the closing performance of the show,
and what was meant to be the highlight for everyone who had organised it,
the mammas and the poppers,
with Scott McKenzie guesting to sing San Francisco.
But there was a problem.
The group hadn't rehearsed together in months.
John and Michelle had been busy organising the festival.
Cass had been busy with her newborn baby,
and Denny had been so depressed that John and Michelle had got back together
that he'd basically spent three months inside a bottle,
drunk out of his mind,
and not even really registering that he was meant to be.
be performing at the festival until the final day, when he flew into L.A. from the Virgin Islands,
where he'd been for those three months. He also didn't have any coherent idea of the geography of
California, despite having lived there for a couple of years, and vaguely thought that Montere was
just down the coast from Santa Barbara, and was horrified to be told by his friend that it would
be an eight-hour drive, and they would have to leave right then. Depending on which version of the
story you believe, he either arrived right before the group were due on stage, and he either arrived right before
the group were due on stage or just before Hendricks is set. Either way, there was no time for even
a cursory rehearsal before the group went on stage with Joe Osborne, Larry Nechtel, touring guitarist
Derek Horn and their touring drummer Fast Eddie Ho, and performed what was meant to be the great
climax of the festival, but instead turned out to be the great anti-climax of it, and of the
Mama's and the Popper's career. To quote from John Phillips's autobiography, we ran out on stage and did
our songs completely out of tune from start to finish. In parts we weren't even close.
We hadn't sung in months. We hadn't rehearsed at Monterey because Denny wasn't around.
Cass had been partying all weekend. Mitch and I were too busy at the sight to worry about harmonies
and arrangements. I was fried on speed. I had been up for most of the past week.
Everyone agrees that the performance was possibly the worst the group ever gave, and they were
the worst act on the festival, though listening to the recordings it doesn't sound that much.
more incompetent than many of the other performers, though there are some excruciatingly poor harmonies
at points. As for Scott McKenzie, as John Phillips put it, he was so off and out of it,
that he sang in a chord sequence that was the reverse of what the band were playing.
Though I have to say that to my ears, the problem sounds more with the 12-string guitar player,
one John Phillips, than with Mackenzie's singing. Monterey was essentially the end of the careers of both
Mackenzie and the Mommas and the Poppers. Mackenzie's follow-up single, like an old-time movie,
written by John Phillips, only made number 24.
Oh, come on so grew better, like an old time, one that I already see.
He recorded one more album three years later, this time made up of songs he'd written himself,
but never had another hit, and he retired from music for a time in 1970. Meanwhile, the
the Mommas and the Poppers struggled on for a while longer
and started work on a fourth album.
But halfway through recording,
they made a promotional trip to the UK,
where Cass got arrested for reasons that are unclear,
but seemed to have been connected to some criminal associates
of her then partner.
She was let go the next day,
but had a traumatic time, including being strip-searched,
and was telling someone about her horrific ordeal
when John Phillips came up to her
and started correcting her about her own experiences.
That was the last straw.
She was not putting up with John Phillips for one second more, and she quit the group.
She did come back long enough to finish up the album,
which included a version of Dream A Little Dream of Me,
a song suggested by Michelle,
who had known one of the songs writers when she was a kid.
It was released as a single,
but credited to Mama Cass with the Mommas and the Poppers in the US,
and just to Mama Cass in the UK.
Singing in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me
Say and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm
That made the top 20
Significantly outperforming the last few Mommas and Popper's singles
And Elliot had a relatively successful solo career
With two more top 30 hits
both written by Man and Wael.
It's getting better, and make your own kind of music.
After a rough first attempt at a Las Vegas residency,
she lost £100 in weight,
but as a result developed gastric and throat problems
and had to cancel almost straight away.
She became a beloved entertainer,
appearing in several TV specials
and doing residencies in Las Vegas and the London Palladium.
The other group members all released solo,
records too, but with no success. Probably the best of them is Denny Doherty's version of the Millenniums
to Claudia on Thursday. John and Michelle's marriage fell apart for good, and John's drug use became
much, much worse. Eventually, the new owners of the group's record label sued them for a million
and to settle the lawsuit, they recorded a contractual obligation album, people like us,
three years after they'd split, but they didn't get together for the recordings, just overdubbing
parts as and when necessary. In 1974, while staying in a flat owned by Harry Nelson, Cass Elliott
died of a heart attack, aged only 32. She had just completed a residency at the London Pladium,
for which she had once again lost a lot of weight, after having put all the weight from her earlier
attempt at weight loss back on. It's well known that repeated crash dieting, extreme weight
and yo-yoing weight can cause heart trouble. That was the end of the Mama's and the Poppers as the
original band, but not quite the end for the group altogether. While Michelle Phillips went on to a
successful acting career and still acts today, John sank into depression and spent time in prison
on drugs charges. He would remain an addict for the rest of his life. As an attempt to get himself
together after his prison time. He formed the new Mommas and Poppers,
initially with a line-up of himself, Scott McKenzie, Denny Doherty, his daughter
Mackenzie Phillips, and replacing Cass Elliott, Elaine Spanky McFarlane of Spanky and Our Gang,
and they started playing the nostalgia circuit. At the same time, the Beach Boys were in a
career slump, putting out odd one-off flop singles for film soundtracks, and often finding it
difficult to get record contracts.
One of the few recordings they made in the early 80s
was for a cassette-only release,
only sold through Radio Shack,
put together by Terry Melcher
and Darrell Dragon of the Captain and Teneal.
The cassette contained new recordings
by the Association,
Paul Revere and the Raiders,
and the rip chords,
plus solo tracks by Mike Love,
and duets between Love and Dean Torrance,
plus the Beach Boys version of California Dreaming,
produced by Melcher, featuring a guest spot by Roger McGuin on guitar.
Unsurprisingly, the cassette didn't exactly set the music world alight,
but a couple of years later, the Beach Boys were putting out a new greatest hits album,
and a slightly remixed version of California Dreaming was stuck on that and put out as a single.
And while it only made the lower reaches of the Hot 100,
it made the adult contemporary top 10,
thanks in large part to a video which got a lot of play on MTV,
featuring the Beach Boys, McGuin
and carios from Michelle and John,
the latter as a saxophone-playing priest.
At this point, there were lots of connections
between the Beach Boys, Melcher,
and the Mommas and the Poppers,
including that John and Michelle's daughter China
was a school friend of Brian Wilson's daughters,
Carney and Wendy,
and would soon form her own vocal group with them.
And at some point, Terry Melcher got hold of a demo
that John Phillips had recorded
of a song he and Scott McKenzie had written together.
Melchard.
All the things we did was ever wasted.
Melcham and Mike Love rewrote the lyric extensively, dropped Phillips's original
Middle Eight altogether, and added a new chorus, listing place names, in the same.
way the Beach Boys had for California girls and surfing USA.
It was put out as one of those throwaway film soundtrack singles
for a forgettable Tom Cruise film Cocktail.
But rather remarkably,
thanks to a video featuring shots from the film
intercut with the Beach Boys performing on a beach.
It became the Beach Boys' first number one in 22 years,
and their only one without any participation from Brian Wilson.
For the rest of the 80s and 90s,
their new Mommas and Poppers toured with a revolving life.
line up. There would be various female singers, and usually at least one, sometimes two,
of John Phillips, Denny Doherty, Scott McKenzie, and Barry Maguire, depending on who had fallen out
with who and who was in rehab. The new Mommas and Poppers ended with Phillips's death in 2000,
and Denny Doherty died in 2007, while Scott McKenzie died in 2012. Barry McGuire is still
alive and is now a contemporary Christian performer. His most recent album seems to have come out in
2000. It's called Eve of Destruction 20 inspirational classics, and he also re-recorded Eve of
Destruction as Eve 2012. As for P.F. Sloan, he retired from the music business in 1972. For reasons
he variously gave as being ill, he would suffer from chronic illnesses for decades.
before apparently being cured by a faith healer,
being tired of making music
and having his life threatened by the owners of Dunhill Records.
He infrequently gave interviews and made records
over the next few decades,
before recovering his strength enough
to work on what he considered his magnum opus.
He saw the performance of Beethoven's music
and became fascinated at what he saw as the parallels
between Beethoven and himself.
He very much saw Beethoven as the P.F. Sloan of his time.
He immediately started work on a musical,
Louis Louis. Louis is the French equivalent of Ludwig, Beethoven's first name,
which eventually became his 2015 album My Beethoven,
a concept album that was equal parts autobiography and biography of Beethoven.
But by this point, Sloan was more myth than man, and this was largely because of Jimmy Webb.
Webb had, in 1970, decided that he wasn't going to just be a songwriter for other people,
but that he was going to be an artist in his own right, and put out a solo album.
And one of the people who inspired him to do that was Sloan,
who he thought of as one of the first of the great commercial songwriters to pursue his own artistic path,
and as such he wrote a tribute to him, a song called P.F. Sloan.
The problem was, Sloane had already pretty much vanished from the scene,
as the song's lyrics said, starting,
I have been seeking P.F. Sloan,
but no one knows where he has gone.
Many people listening to the song
assumed that Sloan was a character Web had made up,
and Sloan would later claim that he and Webb had fallen out in the 70s,
and as a result, Webb had gone around claiming just that,
rather than acknowledging that Sloan was a real person,
though I've not seen any interviews where Webb did that,
and have seen several where he very explicitly credits the real man as an inspiration.
To make matters worse, in the 80s, Eugene Landy, the abusive psychotherapist who used his position
with his patient Brian Wilson to get himself credited as a co-writer and producer on many of Wilson's songs,
insisted in many interviews that he was P.F. Sloan, claiming Sloan was a pseudonym, and he had written
all those songs. With Sloan out of the industry, many people believed him, at least until the extent
of his other lies became clear. So while Sloan did write his own autobiography,
what's exactly the matter with me in 2014.
By the time of his death, to most of those who knew his name at all,
P.F. Sloan wasn't a man, a songwriter who had written for the Turtles and Janand Dean,
and had a big folk rock hit. He was an idea, the idea of songwriting artistry,
of inspiration, and of someone who would take his own path rather than submit to commercial pressures,
the idea of musical innovation, of endless possibilities, and of being young in the mid-sixthes,
when it seemed the young people might still make a better world.
The truth? Well, that didn't matter.
What mattered? Always was the song.
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