Last Friday was the 50th anniversary of what is, arguably, the greatest music festival ever.
Set on Max Yasgur’s dairy farm 80 miles from New York in August 1969, it featured some of the best rock, soul and folk artists of the day. It was opened by Richie Havens whose old blues spiritual ‘Freedom’ became a sort of anthem. There were also newcomers such as Crosby, Nash, Stills and Young – “This is only our second gig, man – we’re scared shitless.” Another act nobody ever heard of, Carlos Santana, took the festival by storm with his energy driven ‘Soul Sacrifice.’ (they had apparently dropped some acid in the belief that they weren’t due to appear till four hours). The headline, Jimi Hendrix, at the top of his game, performed a stunning set including a rocked up version of ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ complete with feedback imitating rockets and planes as a Vietnam reference. Unfortunately, because of postponements and technical problems, Hendrix didn’t appear till Monday morning to a reduced crowd of 30,000.
Something like half a million people turned up to Woodstock, many without tickets. Once the security fence came down, the organisers declared it a free festival. It was beset by problems such as lack of food, transport getting onto the site and a thunderstorm on the Sunday threatening to cause some serious damage what with all the electrics and sound equipment. But it became famous for its peaceful vibe and hippie dreams of just getting along with everyone. In many respects it was the swansong of the 1960’s and represented the best of a somewhat turbulent decade. I was only eight years old at the time but would have loved to have been there as a young adult. Some say the event was transformative.
Remember to Live 