1968 Conqueror of American Rock - Chapter 191
Only Noblemtl
191. Again, Summer of ’69 (15)
The conversation I had with him when I first met him at the Maki Club was still vivid in my mind.
‘James Choi, the lyrics of the song you just sang included the words ‘US 8th Army’ and ‘Vietnam’. Do you have any plans to release the documentary film in regular theaters?’
‘How do you know about that movie? It was only shown at US military bases.’
‘I’m Damien O’Neill, a reporter for the Defense Daily. I saw the movie at a US Air Force base in England. I really enjoyed it. I heard that it was only shown at US military bases, but I wish the general public could see it too.’
Thanks to that, we were able to release it in the UK, and the OST contracted with GMI also recorded huge sales.
It was also Damien who helped me go to pirate radio to meet London Smog. Until then, he had short hair and wore a military uniform, but he came to America in plain clothes.
You probably didn’t come all this way just to meet me.
He had long hair and was wearing plain clothes, but the camera was still slung over his shoulder.
“I’m here to do some reporting. I’ve been hired to work for a new music weekly called ‘Sounds.’ I’ll have to give you my business card later, haha.”
Oh, this is what I look like now.
“At that time, you were a military reporter from Maki, right?”
Damien stared at Annie for a moment, covered in mud. It looked like she had seaweed and kelp spread on her head. It was natural that he didn’t recognize her.
“······Annie Yang?”
“Yes, it’s been a while!”
As expected, a reporter is a reporter. How could you recognize that face?
“Your voice is still the same, haha.”
It was good to have good ears.
“Guys, can I take a picture of you?”
Before I could even answer, Annie struck a playful pose with Angela.
Yeah. This appearance will be broadcast on TV anyway, so photos are all that matters.
We took a group photo in the mud with the extreme members.
Click, click.
* * *
We had a great time, using the safety check on the mud slide as an excuse, and returned to the motel. While we were washing up, Elliot took Damien to the Woodstock exhibit.
After taking a shower, I went to the exhibition hall first.
“This is really amazing. If James is so passionate about Woodstock, can I ask why he decided to have a festival separate from the Woodstock business?”
It was something that could have been published in a weekly magazine. I tried to package and explain my conversation with Michael Lang as best I could.
“I really hope that Woodstock ’71 will be a success. Of course, we are preparing hard. Michael Lang is a great organizer. I learned a lot from working with him in the headquarters in ’69. The headquarters that we have now in the main motel building is an office that he decorated. I am very grateful to him.”
“The two festivals happen to have the same date. Which one was announced first?”
Of course, we announced it first.
“It doesn’t matter. The Woodstock business and we both have fond memories of that day. It’s just that my idealistic stubbornness led me to plan this festival separately.”
“If you say idealistic stubbornness, are you referring to the Clean Zone campaign?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Damien looked slightly surprised.
“James, are you really going to do the same campaign you’re doing on the Sunset Strip at this festival?”
“yes.”
“It’s a fun festival, but wouldn’t overly strict rules cause backlash?”
“We’re going to set up zones. We’re going to create a drinking and smoking zone at the very edge.”
I pointed to a section of a large map taped to the wall.
“Ah······ If I set the area completely to the end, it won’t cause any harm to other people. But it’s too far away, so I won’t be able to see the stage very well.”
“There will be a TV there so they can see the stage on screen. They can only drink under the designated shade tents. It can be dangerous to go out in the sun while drunk.”
“I might give up drinking and smoking and go closer to the stage just to see the show. That’s a really good idea, haha.”
Damien understood my intentions exactly. He wrote diligently in his notebook.
“Any news from England these days? I’ve been staying in the countryside lately······.”
“······there is.”
His expression suddenly darkened.
* * *
“Jim Morrison······is dead······?”
When the news of his death was delivered at dinner with the members, Jake was the first to sigh. Jungseop also put down his spoon.
“Ah, in the end······.”
Annie sighed too.
July 3, 1971. Jim Morrison, the leader and vocalist of The Doors, died in France at the age of 27.
From Jimi Hendrix to Janis Joplin, and now Jim Morrison, they all died at the age of 27. Starting with 3J, as more and more artists died at the age of 27, critics began calling them the “27 Club.”
The reason why Jake, Jungseop, and Annie feel particularly sorry is because The Doors’ ‘Light My Fire’ was a very special song to us.
While working as a helper for Hansung Heungup, I went to the Luna Club at the recommendation of my older brother who was working with me. Annie suddenly suggested that I play a song by the Doors, and Jake, who was a U.S. soldier at the time, volunteered to play bass.
And we who played that song are now a band.
We still can’t forget that day, that night, that stage, that air. No, we will never be able to forget it in the future.
“They say he died of a heart attack while taking a bath at his girlfriend’s house······.”
As Damien said, anyone who knew him could easily guess what caused his death.
“That’s why James is trying to create a healthy music culture. No matter how much of a genius you are, what’s the point? Everyone dies at such a young age. Health is the most important thing. You have to be healthy to enjoy music and life.”
Annie said what I wanted to say, and then I started eating my stew again.
“What are you doing? No one is eating. Aunt Tyver’s Russian stew is the best in the world. Eat quickly before it gets cold.”
Annie tried to lighten the mood throughout the meal.
After dinner, we built a bonfire to show Damien our own evening entertainment.
“Wow······ The night sky is amazing.”
Damien sat on his camping chair and looked up at the sky. For a moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off the cluster of stars.
I brought out my acoustic guitar, and Angela sat on the chair with her melodica. Hyunsang willingly lent Jake his treasured acoustic bass guitar.
Hyung Jungseop sat on the cajon and hit the reserve four times.
Angela played the main melody of ‘Light My Fire’ on the melodica to the beat of my guitar strokes. Jake played the bass for the first time in a long time and reminisced.
Annie sang in front of the campfire, shaking her voluminous hair, just like the day we first played on stage.
– Come on, baby, light my fire.
(Now, baby, light me a fire.)
– Come on, baby, light my fire.
(Now, baby, light me a fire.)
As the chorus reached, the bonfire grew brighter, as if to commemorate someone.
Jim Morrison, you burned your short life, but your songs will live on in people’s hearts forever.
Rest in Peace.
(Rest in peace.)
* * *
August 14th.
Eden Sanders, who traveled from England to cover ‘Woodstock 71’, headed to Altamont Speedway with excitement. He had been waiting for this day for over a month.
I also rented a small camper van because I wanted to feel the excitement of the scene. I turned on the radio and tuned it to KMTV.
– Experience 3 days of ‘Woodstock 71’! 30+ top bands and 400,000 people! It’s the trip of a lifetime!
“KMTV, which can be considered a rival, is airing a Woodstock commercial. The Kings really have something different.”
He held his precious concert ticket again. Woodstock, he really felt like he had the world.
The cars lining the road were clearly headed for Woodstock. Young men and women rolled down their windows, waving and shouting.
Some vehicles were decorated with flowers, while others had the word “PEACE!” written on them with tape.
There was some traffic, but everyone seemed to be having fun.
“Yeah! This is Woodstock! Wow!”
Eden also opened the window and cheered for the people.
“Hey, buddy! We’re from Ontario, Canada! The weather in California is killing me!”
“I’m from London! The weather is killing me!”
“Wow, welcome to Woodstock! Woohoo!”
Regardless of age or gender, everyone was a friend. Eden, in her late twenties, felt ten years younger. She stretched her hand out the window and enjoyed the strong sunlight.
Today was the pre-show day for the visitors. Eden, who came from England and had no company, thought it would be better to stay in a camper van rather than buy a tent.
When we arrived at the site, there was a wire mesh fence surrounding the vast wasteland, and the entrance gate to the tent village and the entrance gate to the camper van were separate.
Eden stood in line for the camper van. It seemed like it would be a long wait, but he was happy just to be there.
While waiting, I looked out the window and saw a security checkpoint and people wearing yellow T-shirts with the words “Peace Patrol” written on them.
“Peace Patrol, the name is like Woodstock.”
But something was a little strange. The faces of the people entering this joyful festival were all distorted. They seemed to be annoyed. Eden used his journalistic spirit and pressed the record button on his portable recorder.
“Everyone, please open your bags for a quick inspection.”
“It’s just water.”
“Sorry, according to the rules, no food or drinks are allowed.”
“What’s the rule? So what are we supposed to drink?”
“We are selling water that has been approved as safe for drinking. Since it is summer, there is a risk of food poisoning and other problems at festivals where many people gather. We ask for your cooperation to ensure smooth operation.”
Eden didn’t understand. No, he thought it was ridiculous. He brought his own food and drinks. There’s no way he would bring anything that could be a problem. Even if it were a problem, it wouldn’t harm anyone.
The expressions on the faces of those having their bags searched at the gate became increasingly worse.
Eden took out his camera and took pictures of the scene.
* * *
At the same time, at the Bethel Festival.
Spectators began to arrive to see the festival starting tomorrow. Three thousand reserve volunteers were in charge of directing the 50,000 spectators in an orderly manner.
“Elderly people and those with disabilities, please come this way.”
The young men made way for the elderly and the disabled to enter first. They will stay in accommodations, not tents. After hearing their story on the broadcasting station, the organizers offered them accommodations on the farm for free, considering their safety.
“If you have a lot of luggage or have difficulty carrying it, please come this way.”
Volunteers also helped carry the luggage of those who were weaker, to prevent possible exhaustion in the hot weather.
“Here, take a water bottle. There will be water fountains scattered around the tent village when you enter. Be sure to rinse them a few times before filling them with water.”
All visitors were given a ticket upon entry in exchange for a water bottle. It was a one-liter clear plastic bottle with the words “Again, Summer of ’69” printed on it. It had a strap that could be adjusted to fit.
We also prepared small water bottles for children.
“Everyone, we are selling character stickers of the bands participating in the festival. Decorate your water bottle with stickers of the band you support!”
Members of the White Light Troupe sold stickers and various accessories at the entrance.
“Please give me the Sparkling Ripple Logo Sticker and all the different types of anime stickers.”
“Please give me the same thing.”
“Oh, if you guys do this, our James will be upset. Please give me the same thing, and give me one of James Choi’s stickers.”
Three men in their thirties, carrying water jugs around their necks, giggled as they stuck on the stickers they had purchased.
“Alex, Liam, and Mr. Kingsley are here too.”
“Hahaha, Damien! We’ve finally come to Woodstock! It’s a new feeling to meet you in America like this!”
The three men were happily reunited with Damien O’Neill.
“Hey, Liam. It’s not Woodstock, it’s ‘Again, Summer of ‘69.’”
Alex pointed to the text on the bottle.
“Who doesn’t know that? But still, the Woodstock in my heart is right here, hahaha!”
“Liam’s right. This is the real Woodstock!”
Kingsley joined in the shout.
“That’s right! This is the real Woodstock!”
As the three men spoke loudly, the young men around them also began to chant “Woodstock.”