What kind of person boos a musician for playing an electric guitar? Seems silly, doesn’t it? We’ve heard the story about Bob Dylan getting flak for “going electric” so many times, it’s easy to take for granted just how idiotically irrational those people were.
This came to mind with the recent announcement that Dylan would be back at Forest Hills Stadium in July. The last time he performed there was on August 28th, 1965, one of the most fabled shows of his career, and a month after the hostile reception for his electric set at Newport. Dylan faced a similar response in Queens. Al Kooper, the legendary keyboardist who played the organ on “Like a Rolling Stone” that unforgettably conveyed autonomy as much as the lyrics did, was part of the band that evening. In a Village Voice article from last year, Kooper mentioned, “there were people that actually got up onstage and were trying to get at Bob. Some person tripped over the chair I was sitting on when I was playing the keyboards and knocked me over at one point.”
Remember, these were young, pre-hippie, New York liberals in the ‘60s. In their own childish way, these “progressives” were just as regressive as the racist, anti-Semites from the south they presumably despised. Their anger was directed at Dylan because he advanced from folk to rock’n’roll, so freedom of speech and artistic expression were fine, just as long as it fell in line with their tastes and agenda. The most amusingly bizarre aspect of all this was that for a brief moment in time, young people actually wanted the music turned down.
Granted, this country had never seen or heard anything like this before. Musicians were already using electric guitars, they just weren’t playing nearly as loud. This was two years before The Who came to America, so people weren’t used to the thunderous volume. But Dylan, Kooper, bassist Harvey Brooks, and guitarist Robbie Robertson and drummer Levon Helm from The Band were taking music to a new level, putting the “ROCK” in rock’n’roll, while also featuring strong lyrical content. Along with some other artists, they helped set the stage for hard rock, metal and punk. It must have been quite an experience walking around Forest Hills that evening, with Robertson’s coyote howl guitar gusting through the tranquil suburban streets.
No one knew who they were at the time, but it’s difficult to imagine Robertson and Helm receiving any kind of negative reaction. The former ended up as one of the best guitarists and songwriters of his generation, while the latter was one of the more distinctive drummers and singers. Helm was so beloved, that when this unique American voice died in 2012, he seemed to get more attention than Dick Clark, who passed away the day before.
In 1969, Brooks would work with another rule-breaking, visionary genius, performing electric bass on the fusion classic Bitches Brew from Miles Davis, once again playing a role in the evolution of music and pissing off parochial pricks, this time in the jazz community. Kooper would accumulate many accomplishments, including discovering the almighty Lynyrd Skynyrd. He produced their first three records, even playing the iconic, opening funereal organ and mellotron on “Freebird,” perhaps the ultimate guitar song.
Nine month’s after Forest Hills, on May 17th, 1966, Dylan would be backed by The Band (except for Helm, who was temporarily replaced by future character actor Mickey Jones), then known as The Hawks, for an equally infamous show in Manchester, England. At one point, an especially ridiculous human being yelled, “Judas!!” Dylan responded with, “I don’t believe you! You’re a liar!”
This is a perfect retort, as he’s calling the guy out on his bullshit and invoking the notion of “faux outrage,” even though the term didn’t exist five decades ago. You can picture Dylan observing the current toxic atmosphere in America with phony, whiny leftists taking offense at the most benign subject on one side, their equally slimy, repugnant, conservative equivalents on the other, and shrugging, “Been there, done that.” It’s telling that in the most explosive political climate since the ‘60s, the musical act most associated with that era (other than the Beatles) is now singing “Some Enchanted Evening” and other songs that predate rock’n’roll.
Dylan returns to Forest Hills a conquering hero, to a venue that symbolizes a time when his art evolved, and as a result, so did his audience, and music in general. As a bonus, he’s bringing old flame Mavis Staples with him, and they’ll likely both be treated with the reverence they’ve earned and deserve. It’ll be the opposite of that night over fifty years ago, when Dylan and his band cast pearls before violent, shortsided, hypocritical swine on the wrong side of history, betraying their progressive ideals by attempting to literally stop Dylan from demonstrating his.
Welcome home.
Matt Leinwohl