Joel Selvin

I have not read too many books on the 60s counter-culture, and it looks like Selvin is an important author on the topic. I knew Altamont was an important watershed moment when the hippy moment died, but as Selvin makes clear, the fractures were always there only waiting for stressors to rupture: lack of leadership, drugs, lack of organization. This is really a vivid you-are-there book particularly when combined with Google maps, video and photography, there is a lot available. There were two show more other books published recently with Altamont in the title, I'm not sure which is factually best. Selvin may err on the side of good story vs. known fact, for example he says the dead body was tossed on stage, but another book says they tried to but the Hells Angels stopped them, which makes more sense. IMO the main character is not the Stones but the Hells Angels, they stole the show. I became very interested in these 60s era Hells Angels, they were the genuine thing when it came to the counter culture, or anti-culture. The drugs at the show played a major part in the insanity, drugs were going mainstream across the socioeconomic spectrum not for mind expansion rather banal entertainment purposes. People were getting accidentally dosed with bad acid, it was probably a nightmare, although many said they had a good time and never experienced the mayhem. This concert was essentially an ego trip for the Stones - they missed Woodstock for some reason, saw the movie and realized they blew it, and wanted to create their own "Woodstock West", with them at the center. show less

I’m going to take on a new responsibility here, guys! I’ve decided that I’m going to start reviewing the occasional non-fiction book as well as the other genres that I’m tackling. I don’t read non-fiction as much as fiction, but I have been reading enough pretty good stuff that I want to share it with you guys! So I’m starting this off with “Altamont: The Rolling Stones, The Hells Angels, and Rock’s Darkest Day” by Joel Selvin. I went through a phase in high school where I show more listened to a lot of rock and roll from the mid to late 1960s, and went so far as to try and dress up like a hippie when I went to school (though admittedly I probably was more akin to an anti-war protester, as my Mom was my inspiration and I went off old photos of her as my template). Hell, my first ever concert was CSNY in 9th grade (also because of my folks). I had heard of the Altamont Concert in passing by my parents and the cultural impression it left, but didn’t know much beyond the Hells Angels stabbing Meredith Hunter to death while the Rolling Stones played. But that’s where Selvin comes in. Because he taught me quite a bit.

What I liked about this book is that it didn’t just cover the concert: it covered events that influenced the decision to have the concert, and the days leading up to it. I had not realized that by the time Altamont rolled around, The Rolling Stones were practically broke. I’ve never lived in a world where The Stones weren’t legends, so to think that at one point they were having monetary problems was mind blowing. They were still kind of living off the image of being a tour that packed in teenage girls, even though they had started to experiment with harder and edgier sounds like ‘Sympathy for the Devil’. They hadn’t toured in awhile, and the tour that Altamont was part of was going to be a quick effort to make some cash. I also hadn’t realized that Altamont was basically thrown together in a short period of time, and moved locations in even shorter time. The information that was provided in this book really opened my eyes to how the poor planning happened, and why everything was so haphazard.

Selvin also did a lot of good research about the people who attended this concert, from Meredith Hunter (the victim of the stabbing), to his girlfriend, to other people in the audience who were injured or killed during or right after Altamont. Everyone hears about Hunter’s death, but I had no idea that some drugged out people jumped into ravines, off bridges, and had terrible car accidents. Not only that, a member of Jefferson Airplane was knocked out by an Angel, and poor Stephen Stills was repeatedly gouged with a bike spoke by another one WHILE HE WAS ON STAGE SINGING. It all seems like such a contrast to Woodstock, which has gone down in legend as a peace, love, rock and roll fest…when in reality, it sounds like it really just got lucky that it didn’t have the same awful stuff that Altamont had. Though admittedly, the Hells Angels played a part in that. But even the Angels Selvin really looked into. While it would certainly be easy to chalk it all up to these guys being violent thugs (and hey, they were), he also makes sure to point out that they too got pretty screwed over in a way here. They were not prepared to work security for such a huge show, and their own biker culture was in direct conflict with the druggie hippie culture, with neither side trying to understand the other (I too would be pissed if I had a motorcycle that a bunch of drugged out kids kept touching and knocking over).

My one qualm that I had with this book is that Selvin, while trying to ease blame off of the usual suspects and showing it as a perfect storm of nonsense, kind of throws the Stones under the bus a little bit. Do I think that the Stones were idiots to agree to this entire thing given how shoddily planned it was? Totally. Do I think that Jagger was disingenuous in his dealings with the press when asked about pricing for their tickets? Yes indeed. But Jagger was twenty six. Richards was twenty five. Grown men, yes, but young, and they had been surrounded by yes men for a few years whose jobs were to shield them from this stuff. It’s not fair to humanize the Hells Angels, who were stabbing, beating, and roughing up concertgoers, and then imply that the Stones were to blame for all the violence. I call bullshit on that. And I also wonder how witnessing this traumatic event, liability in question or not, affected the members of the band. After all, shortly thereafter at least Richards starting doing heavier drugs than he usually experimented with. It may not be connected but it did raise some questions.

Overall, this was an engrossing book that intrigued and disturbed me. I appreciated learning more about this notorious rock concert, and looking into how things can, and will, go wrong, to the point where there’s no turning back. show less

Some wag (probably not Grace Slick) observed that if you remember the 60s, you weren't really there. Enough people remembered the 60s that Selvin manages to recreate the sprawling story of the San Francisco music scene 1965-1971. You know the big players, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin and Big Brother, Santana, and a host of lesser lights. Moving season by season, Selvin describes the forge of creation, as tightly knit musical families under the influence of large amount show more of then-legal LSD carved out a new sound at the intersection of rock, blues, folk, and pop, an artistic flourishing intrinsically linked to the counter-cultural nexus of Haight-Ashbury and the radical politics of the antiwar movement.

But the scene rapidly turned sour. The tight-knit communes and proto-hippie neighborhood around Haight-Ashbury exploded under hundreds of thousands of hippie tourists, wannabes, and drifters. LSD was supplement with speed, cocaine, and dope, adding an edge of paranoid violence to a vibe already flying somewhere else. Bands broke apart under the pressures of touring and differences of artistic vision. Jefferson Airplane broke in factions that refused to play with each other, Joplin fired Big Brother, an unscrupulous manager stole all of the Grateful Dead's money. Drugs, alcohol, and the lifestyle began to take their toll, as members of the community overdosed, crashed cars, or withdrew from the petty jealousies of 'free love'.

This book is very much insider gossip about the bands and a few of their supporting characters, particularly concert promoter Bill Graham, who ran the famous Fillmore. Selvin gestures at the end towards his ideal vision of the rock band as a close group pushing the limits of artistic expression, but has little to say about why these people, in this place, at this moment. For all that LSD is centered in the title, the book also has little to say on psychedelia beyond the bare facts of the moment. If there is a vision there of the Acid Society, it can't be captured in words. And there's nothing about the fans, the hundreds of thousands who went to shows, pilgrimaged to Haight-Ashbury, or simply sat in their bedrooms, put on Surrealistic Pillow, and felt like part of the moment. show less

Searing account of the disastrous concert that is popularly supposed to brought an end to the 60's era of love. In December 1969, The Rolling Stones, desperate to break into the American market, were talked into participating at a free concert at a derelict raceway in California, along with Grateful Dead, Santana, Crosby Stills Nash & Young and Jefferson Airplane. It was supposed to be another Woodstock, instead poor planning, dueling egos and the insane decision to hire the Hells Angels as show more security and pay them in beer turned into catastrophe. Bad acid meant many of the hundreds of thousands who turned up ended up tripping out and needing medical attention, the Angels went berserk with power and bashed people at random, and the people running the concert totally lost control. But by far the worst was still to come. In the shadows of the stage and captured graphically on film, a young black man was stabbed to death by an Angel after drawing a gun. Three other people were killed that night, one drowning in a canal, two others run down by a driver high on acid, but it was the killing of Meredith Hunter that remains the enduring image of Altamont. Selvin provides a vivid moment by moment account of the disaster that captures the behavior of the each of the participants, the Grateful dead who sensed what was coming early on and fled without playing, Jefferson Airplane several of whose members were attacked by the Angels, and most searingly the Stones, with Keith Richards caught helplessly trying the calm the crowd down, and Mick Jagger with head down in despair as the Angels kick Hunter's body off the stage. This is one of the best pieces of musical history I have ever read, it is a roller-coaster that grabs you from the start and doesn't let up. Beautifully written, throbbing with passion and appreciation of the music that was produced that night despite the disaster. It is absolutely riveting reading. show less