Pure Hendrix

This may be the quintessential 60s concert. The band comes on and futzes around with their instruments for a while, and you wonder if they've ever heard of roadies. There's no (literal) fireworks, no changes of costume, no giant video screens. You get the feeling that the venue isn't particularly large (and you really wonder what they played for an encore, since they just sort of walked off and the emcee begrudgingly suggests that they'll do one more song but it's nine o'clock and time for—what?). The music isn't perfect. Drummer Mitch Mitchell just bangs away for an hour and you wonder if he'll pass out from exhaustion, and bassist Noel Redding could be playing along with anyone in the world other than, arguably, the greatest guitarist who ever lived.

And what about that greatest guitarist who ever lived? The music speaks for itself. But more important, watch the way he plays. Watch the way he treats his guitar (which, sadly, he never sets on fire, it not being that kind of a concert). It has been said that he makes love to the damned thing as he plays it, and I won't argue that.

Favorite fact: This band was once an opening act for the Monkees. In the Venn diagram of Monkees fans and Hendrix fans at the time, there was maybe one guy, and he was no doubt not entirely in full possession of all his senses. But according to Wikipedia, this may have just been a publicity stunt. That makes more sense than anything else. They only played together a few times. That was probably more than enough for the poor Monkees fans who were wondering what, exactly, they had bought into.

As I said, this isn't great. But it's amazingly real. And it is absolutely what concerts used to be in the early days.



Via Dangerous Minds
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