I kiss the City of New York

Ugh.  I promised myself that I’d make the blog a priority this year.  I even confessed this goal to my blogging buddy Tim B., as if e-mailing it aloud would hold me more accountable for my lack of actions.  I’m easily distracted.  First there was a whirlwind trip to Australia in April, centered around the Dig It Up festival (a.k.a. the Hoodoo Gurus Invitational) in Sydney, but also including some quality visits with rock and roll friends in Melbourne, who went above and beyond the call of duty not only in showing us a good time, but in showing me some rare Hollies archival material.  Once we got back, well, life just got in the way.  No difficult circumstances really--if anything I’ve just been blissed out and having too much fun in my spare time to focus on this calling.  I’ve done some preliminary research on a few places (one of which, in another bit of weird synchronicity, Tom Finn of the Left Banke recently asked me about out of the blue), but I've been having trouble following through and digging deeper. 

What’s probably really holding me back is a feeling that StreetsYouCrossed may have outlived its usefulness.  I started this blog at a time when I sensed there was a dearth in deep coverage of NYC’s rock and roll history.  But in the ensuing years, many folks have stepped up to fill that void--and since most of them were actual denizens of the vintage scenes I wanted to document, they fill it in a much finer and more first-person manner than I’m capable of achieving.  I’m particularly fond of the Facebook groups that have proliferated and brought many gregarious old-timers out of the woodwork.  Lessee, reeling the ones I can remember belonging to off the top of my head, there’s NY Rocks, New York Rock and Roll Explorer, Academy of Music/Palladium, Night Owl, Coney Island High, Brownie's, the Peppermint Lounge (‘80s incarnation), Steve Paul’s the Scene, Fillmore East, Schaefer Music Festival, Twisted Sister in the Clubs, Long Island Clubs of the ‘80s, CBGB (the movie’s a turkey by the way, trust me), Max’s, My Father’s Place, Lone Star Café, The Ritz, NYHC Chronicles.  There may be others I belong to, and there are certainly dozens more I don’t know about.  All are superb repositories of memory and memorabilia, collected and shared by the people who were there, and who often were deeply involved in the operation of the clubs—or who just hung out at them A LOT. Me, I was at a few of those places, but hardly an entrenched scenester or insider.  I’ve never claimed to be an authoritative voice on my chosen topic—I’m at best an eager student, at worst a lowly peon fangirl—but let’s just say that lately I’ve been feeling less authoritative than ever in the face of all the collective expertise I read daily on these fine FB groups and elsewhere on the ol' Internets.  Can I work past this?  I hope so, because I know the subject has yet to be exhausted, even with all the increased focus upon it.

So, I never chimed in with a good-last-drop Maxwell’s tribute.  Again, despite its undeniable homespun magic and the many great times I had there, I was hardly a regular.  It was a schlep to get to from Queens, and often the bands I wanted to see were doing a more convenient show in town a day before or after.  But every now and then I was compelled to brave the long walk from the PATH, or the search for a parking spot, and head for Hoboken's haven.  A recent show I went to here in T.O. reminded me of one of those grand schleps.  The Maxwell's show it reminded me of happens to have been one of my top ten rock and roll experiences of all time, if I were truly the type who was into ranking such things.  And in turn, the moment that inspired the reminiscing must also join those hypothetical top ten ranks.  Here’s a long-ass FB/tumblr post I wrote about it, from a gal who doesn’t write long-ass status updates as a rule. 

OK, I don’t normally do longwinded status updates on FB but I am MOVED!  So after much debate (we just saw her six months ago, it’s freakin’ 50 bucks, we’ve already seen her and Lenny on separate occasions in the past, aaaaaaargh), we decided to bite the bullet and see Patti Smith.  It’s going well, obviously more rock and roll than the acoustic set earlier this year, but still, I could tell Rocky was getting a little sleepy due to the mostly mid-tempo-to-slower numbers they were doing (which I loved though—Dancing Barefoot, Redondo Beach, Break It Up, among others).

For a while I did find it odd that, while she was beautifully lit, the rest of the band was somewhat in the dark.  I was like, jeez, that’s Lenny Kaye, I don’t think of him as some sideman, he should be lit too—they ALL should be. Then about midway through, she takes a backstage break and lets Kenny Laye take over for a while (sorry, a good buddy of mine once dubbed him that and I’ll always think of him that way as a result).  He says stuff about being a music historian, about how much of an honor it is to play the same stage where “Jazz at Massey Hall” was recorded, and how they were gonna play a few numbers in honor of his favorite Toronto bands, the Paupers and Luke and the Apostles.  If he was aware that Luke and the Apostles were doing a show across town at the Cadillac that very night, he didn’t betray that knowledge.  He used his well-worn but always delightful “It’s a Nugget if you dug it” line (yes, I’ve seen him MC at way too many Cavestomps to mention), then he and the band launch into possibly the most ferocious and feral five minute garage barrage I have heard in my life: Talk Talk, Open Up Your Door (every bit as wyld as seeing Richard and the Young Lions themselves do that one TWICE at Maxwell’s close to 15 years ago), Open My Eyes (how did he know I’ve been listening to a ton of Todd Rundgren lately?), Psychotic Reaction.  We got as mental as it’s possible to be in a gallery seat in that hallowed hall.  Who knows, this may be a regular segment in all PSG shows, but I absolutely did not see that one coming.  "Worth the price of admission!" I hollered in Rocky’s ear and he concurred.  It would’ve been worth it even if they hadn’t pulled out the stops when Patti came back out (Piss in the River, Land segue-ing into Gloria, Rock and Roll N-woid, etc.). Afterwards, we considered schlepping over to the Cadillac just to see if Lenny would show up and join in…but given Patti’s frequent references to TIFF I assumed they’d be going to a TIFF-related party if they went anywhere at all.  I may kick myself later if I hear otherwise.

One thing that did surprise Rocky especially—she didn’t mention Allen Lanier at all.  Anyway, I’d give my eyeteeth for video of those five minutes, ‘cause for me it was as monumental as any landmark Massey Hall event.      

Besides Patti, T.O. has seen a surfeit of rock and roll legends over the last few weeks.  Since the Riot Fest site was only about five blocks away from our house, we couldn’t resist it and its headliners, the Stooges and the Replacements.  The ‘Mats were really good, but not quite as Second Coming-esque as some writers would lead you believe.  (Local rockabilly Christian D. wrote a more relatable take.)  Almost as close to our home, and even closer to my heart, was the Rascals’ two-week stand at the Royal Alexandra Theatre in August.  I can’t adequately express how excited I was when I first saw the Big Pussy-voiceovered TV ads for this event back in June.  Part of me really wanted to go down to see ‘em at the first Capitol Theatre shows last December, and the April Broadway stint—but I gotta admit, I was sort of put off by the “theatrical/multimedia” aspect.  Look, I dig Little Steven, I also dug him back when he was Miami Steve, I’ve been to many of the Cavestomp events he co-sponsored with Jon Weiss, I went to his Randall’s Island fest and loved it, I've purchased Wicked Cool releases, I respect how he put his money where his mouth was regarding the garage scene, and lord knows Silvio Dante Forever.  His heart’s in the right place fer sure, but sometimes the execution can be off—such as go-go dancers moving more like strippers, that sort of thing.  It was much easier to put aside my apprehensions about the visuals and bells and whistles of Once Upon a Dream, not to mention the potential “nostalgic cash grab/retirement fund” angle, when I heard I could actually WALK a half-mile down the road to see my beloved Rascals.  We went on the second night, figuring they would have worked out any kinks from the opening, yet still be fresh and somewhat enthusiastic about T.O..  When all was said and done, I could take or leave the visuals—they were fun but didn’t add that much to the proceedings, and at times they felt a little awkward and unnatural, a stiff counterpart to the banter you’re used to hearing at a rock show.  However, I respect the attempt to differentiate this show from your typical Oldies Night, for above all bands, the Rascals certainly deserve a unique setting.  All I really cared about was the music, and on that they exceeded my wildest expectations of excellence.  I may be a deluded sap, but I didn’t feel any pandering, insincerity, or old codgers going through the motions jive.  They played damn near every song you might wanna hear, they killed it, nay SLAYED it, and I was truly feeling it all the way up in my nosebleed seat.  I kinda liked being up there actually—I had my opera glasses for close-ups, and with all the venerable plaster mouldings and comedy/tragedy masks and chandeliers and stuff surrounding us, I could squint and feel like I was at the Fillmore East.  We exited through a side door, which made me forget to check the lobby merch table.  Afterwards, I found out that an expensive Visual Biography was for sale, lavishly loaded with luscious vintage pics…so a couple of days later, before checking out the splendid A Band Called Death at the TIFF Bell Lightbox, I went back and sweet-talked an usher into letting me enter the Alex's lobby real quick so's I could satisfy that pricey urge.  Anyway, I’ve been on cloud nine ever since the show, gorging myself on Rascals interviews and ephemera, delving deeply even into the band’s later forays in jazz-funk territory…and developing a serious Felix fixation that’s starting to rival my Hicks-xation. Looks-wise, nowadays he kinda reminds me of my dad, but his voice and musicianship are utterly, gloriously intact.  I’ve always found vintage Felix to be handsome and of course I adored his voice, but it took seeing and hearing the gent in the flesh to finally grok his sexational side.  At any rate, all these old-timer shows have been so wonderful that I feel compelled to go to a few more, just to see if the streak will last. Seeing the Selecter tonight at Lee's, just got tickets for Brian Wilson/Jeff Beck at the end of October, and am seriously considering Hawkwind in a couple of weeks. 

      

Blog-relevant ebay finds!

Speaking of TIFF, thanks to a generous and well-connected friend who was so insistent I go see it that he gave me some free vouchers, I watched the Hendrix biopic All Is By My Side at the Film Festival last weekend.  Deeply flawed, yet somehow doesn’t suck.  And the first scene takes place at the Cheetah.  Dig this article about Linda Keith which appeared in the Guardian last week.

By all means, pick up Ken Sharp’s essential Nothin’ to Lose: The Making of KISS, 1972-1975.  And dig these links:

Long Island Club Locations, compiled and photographed by a fella on one of the many FB groups about Flushing.

Iconic NYC Music Venues, Then and Now on Buzzfeed.

Redbull Music Academy Abbreviated Survey of Iconic NYC Venues.

Rock Meccas of New York: Then and Now at Rock Cellar Magazine.

Time Out NY article on legendary clubs and parties.

Nightclubbing is now on the Bedford + Bowery blog, a subsidiary of New York mag.  B + B has also done a few articles on vintage East Village spots, like the Academy of Music, and oooh, today they just published a piece on the Electric Circus!

Lastly, while I heard about the Rock Junket tour company a while back, I didn't realize until quite recently that head honcho Bobby Pinn also wrote a companion book.  I haven't finished reading it yet, but so far it's quite entertaining and handy. 

More Bobby/Booth Ephemera

From KRLA Beat, June 11, 1966.

And July 2, 1966.

Clark Kent's got nothing on me

THE PHONE BOOTH--152 East 55th Street (between 3rd and Lexington Avenues). One of several East Side discotheques to emerge in the mid-'60s Go-Go boom, the Phone Booth had previously been the site of a '30s supper club called the Cafe Life, and most famously housed the Blue Angel, a swank cabaret with a long lifespan and an exceptional talent roster. As John Gavin writes in Intimate Nights: The Golden Age of New York Cabaret (New York: Backstage Books, 2006):

The Blue Angel's formality challenged guests to rise to the chicness of their surroundings...From 1943 to 1964, dozens of future stars took career leaps at the Angel's red-carpeted entrance, including Barbra Streisand, Mike Nichols and Elaine May, Carol Burnett, Johnny Mathis, Tom Lehrer, Phyllis Diller, Shelley Berman, Pearl Bailey, Harry Belafonte, and Woody Allen. The list proved [co-owner Herbert] Jacoby's unsurpassed eye for unique talent with commercial appeal. But the club was a star in itself. "You've got to go to the Blue Angel before you leave," said many a New Yorker to visiting friends.

Other notable performers include the Revuers (with Judy Holliday and Comden & Green), Yul Brynner, Dorothy Loudon, Kaye Ballard, Bobby Short, Barbara McNair, Diahann Carroll, Dick Gregory, Nipsey Russell, Vaughn Meader, Don Adams, and Peter Paul & Mary. The book discusses these and other more obscure but beloved-by-cabaret-cognoscenti figures in great detail, along with vivid descriptions of the decor and atmosphere of the room...but I'll stop here, since such minutiae is appealing only to the hardcore old time showbiz hound/theater queen division of NYC nostalgians (who, like me, probably have a well-worn copy of the book on their shelves already...).

Alas, due to the combined effects of "TV, the New York World's Fair...the fact that people weren't staying out as late as they used to," and with entertainment tastes now leaning more towards rock & roll, the Blue Angel closed its doors in May of 1964. "[Co-owner Max] Gordon sold the club to hotel entrepreneur Ed Wynne, who planned to convert it into a restaurant." It seems Wynne decided to go more Go-Go instead, for about a year later the Phone Booth emerged--not unlike Clark Kent's alter ego from the confines of said enclosure. Oddly enough, the joint's emcee happened to be named Kent, as reported in the New York Times on June 1, 1965:

The most elaborate is the Phone Booth, a large and luxuriously appointed room...The owners of the Phone Booth seem to feel that if people are staying home to watch Johnny Carson or Merv Griffin preside at a table on television or to listen to telephone conversations on radio, why not combine both features with the added allure of live, physical presence? This is the approach of the nightclub. The resident phone respondent is Lenny Kent, a short, round man with a well-flexed larynx who also serves as a leering variant of the Carson-Griffin host-type. There are cream-colored telephones at every table (103 in all, including the lounge), which can be used to order drink or food or to bandy words with Mr. Kent. They can also be used to call anyone anywhere--provided you have joined the Private Phone Booth Club, which costs $5.

Lenny Kaye's "New York in the Sixties" article from The History of Rock states that the table phones could also be used "to dial your intended dance partner." However, a blurb in the January 1, 1966 issue of the KRLA Beat noted that the club had no phones, leading me to wonder if the whole phone gimmick was abandoned at some point.

Apparently the Booth's early booking policy was rather similar to that of the Angel. The Times article notes that the opening week's performers included a comedian named Morty Storm, "a singer with curly black hair and dimples" named Michael Allen, and a Brazilian singer named Eliana Pitman, accompanied by her saxophonist father Booker. Various articles in the Billboard Google Archives mention engagements with Arthur Prysock and Lynne Lipton in July '65 ("The 'Tonight Show' format of the club was not personally enjoyable, although the audience seemed to enjoy it," noted reviewer Claude Hall), Joe Williams with Laura Lane and Vaughn Meader in August '65, Chris Connor in August-September '65, and Gloria DeHaven in September '65. Still, there must have been a little bit of rock & roll mixed in by that late summer, for there's also a report on an August engagement with the Boys Next Door, "five clean-cut undergraduates from Indiana University" with a Cameo-Parkway contract and a Beach Boys-esque sound. Since I've come across no jazzbo references after September '65, I'll assume the club went completely rock & roll by that autumn...and I imagine they might have dropped the "talk show"-style presentation around that time as well.

When I ponder the Phone Booth, the first band that comes to mind is inevitably the (Young) Rascals. The be-knickerbockered b'hoys already had a solid local following, the management services of Sid Bernstein, and an Atlantic contract under their belts by the time they were booked for a two-week residency there starting on October 28, 1965. But the Phone Booth was where all those elements coalesced into stardom--not to mention an eight-week holdover. As the January 1, 1966 issue of the KRLA Beat reported, "The group recently broke records at New York's Phone Booth Club (which incidentally has no phones) like they were going out of style. Seen applauding in the audience opening night--the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Herman's Hermits, the Lovin' Spoonful, Barry McGuire and Lesley Gore." A brief bit of footage from the gig was included in a 1965 TV program called "Anatomy of Pop: The Music Explosion." [I once saw their segment on the old Internets long before the youtube era...and sadly haven't seen it since. You can find Gene Krupa's segment from the program on there though if you're so inclined.] Here's a picture scanned from Tony Fletcher's All Hopped Up and Ready to Go, and a Getty archives pic of Brian Jones and Bob Dylan in the audience digging them (with nary a table phone to be seen, natch).





[By the way, the original members of the Rascals recently reunited for a one-off charity performance. I won't hold my breath waiting a full-fledged reunion tour, but will cautiously allow such hopes to simmer on the back burner...]

[UPDATE 5/12/2010: Well after the fact, the July 2, 1966 issue of KRLA Beat published a fun look back at the Rascals' opening night at the Booth.]

A mixture of local talent and hit touring acts played the Booth in the Rascals' wake through 1966. Here are the references I've found thus far.

The Rahgoos (later known as Gandalf) were one of the locals. As Peter Sando told Ugly Things honcho Mike Stax, the Rascals proved to be a heavy influence on the scene: "Most of the uptown Discotheques were dominated by Rascal-clone bands like the Rich Kids, the Vagrants, and the Pilgrims. We were not immune to that as we converted to a B3 sound when we played at the Rolling Stone and Phone Booth--you might hear that influence on "Me About You" on our LP--but as the band progressed, we were falling into the Rascal sound too much."

From Billboard, October 23, 1965: "The Highwaymen are set for an engagement at New York's Phone Booth from Nov. 15 to 28." They're not to be confused with the '80s country supergroup, and I wonder if and how they were actually squeezed in during the Rascals' residency.

Billboard, January 15, 1966: "The Goldberg-Miller group drove teenagers wild recently at the Phone Booth." They began their four-week stand on December 16, 1965, mining a vein similar to the Paul Butterfield Blues Band and the Blues Project. They were also on Epic, and though this article states that member "Barry Miller" was the son of the U.S. Ambassador to the U.N., a helpful and knowledgeable reader informed me that organist Barry Goldberg may not truly be related to said diplomat, and that the Miller in question was actually Steve Miller--yes, that Steve Miller! (I was completely clueless about this portion of Miller's career, but then I never really investigated him beyond his "classic rock radio" hits.)

Barry McGuire and the Grass Roots opened on January 14, 1966. The January 29, 1966 Billboard reported, "The dance floor looked like a tableau from Mad magazine--vested Madison Avenue types dancing with girls whose attire resembled that of World War I Alpine troops." Louise Criscione's "On the Beat" column in the February 19, 1966 KRLA Beat dished, "Barry's in New York appearing at the Phone Booth, and reports say that the hippies love him but the rest of the population is avoiding the spot like some sort of plague."

The Turtles did a ten-day engagement starting on March 2, 1966. Once again, I'll turn things over to Louise's "On the Beat" from KRLA Beat, March 5, 1966: "This Phone Booth date had them a little worried. To begin with they had heard all sorts of horrible things about New York clubs, and then some helpful soul informed the boys that the Phone Booth was next to Arthur's, which made the Turtles really scared!...They asked Joey [Paige] to name the three grooviest places to play in New York, and without knowing that the Turtles were scheduled to appear there, Joey promptly named the Phone Booth. Hearing that, the Turtles are now ready to tear the place up!" As it turned out, Bob Dylan may have (good-naturedly) torn them a new one...after hearing their live rendition of "It Ain't Me, Babe" at the Booth, he is said to have quipped, "That's a great last song, it should be a record." The April 2 KRLA Beat further gushed, "They are currently in New York at the Phone Booth playing to houses packed with the cream of New York society because, you see, the Booth has become the 'in' place for all socialites."

[UPDATE 5/12/2010: Check out the Turtles article in the June 25, 1966 issue of KRLA Beat for a lengthy Howard Kaylan anecdote about his bout with tonsillitis during the Booth residency.]

[UPDATE 5/27/2010: Found this neat teen mag photo on cheapocheapo's tumblr.]


I haven't found any exact dates for the Shadows of Knight's Phone Booth stint, but it gets a mention in a KRLA Beat article about them from the May 7, 1966 edition, so I venture to guess it was sometime in April. In this interview, Jim Sohns claims they broke the Rascals' attendance records, and that they and the Doors (performing at Ondine--nearby but not across the street as Sohns recalls) would check each other out intimidatingly and macho-like between sets. "The owners were smart enough to keep one band on while the other band was off, and alternate so you could keep the people in block, 'cause there were many places of entertainment in New York City. They used to come in and stare at us and give us this hard stare when we were on. And we'd go across the street when they were on and look at them like they were nuts. After about the first week of that, I was walking through the crowd and Jim Morrison grabbed me by the arm and goes 'You're quite insane you know.' I said 'Well, thank you. I've seen your act and you wouldn't know insane.' Then we laughed and had a few drinks and talked about music." [I'm not so sure about the veracity of this tale, as I haven't seen any records of the Doors playing at Ondine prior to November '66...but perhaps Jim is remembering another Phone Booth engagement for the S.O.K. of which I'm ignorant.] Billboard's August 20, 1966 issue reports that some live audio from one of these shows wound up on an Italian radio program called "New York '66."
The Toys played a week there beginning on May 2, 1966. Billboard May 14, 1966: "The girls showed the results of their hard work, proving they can perform under the most demanding conditions. Handicapped by the club's small stage, which restricted their dance movement, and by a backup sextet unfamiliar with their arrangements, the trio still managed to present a pleasing program that highlighted their own hits."

Billboard June 4, 1966: "The driving dance beat heard last week at the Phone Booth discotheque was the product of a wildly garbed sextet known as the New Order. The Warner Bros. group has a sound to match their Emilio Pucci outfits, with three electric guitars, drums, and the voices of Billy Barberis and Bobby Weinstein."

The Bobby Fuller Four did a two-week stand starting on June 13, 1966, but sadly it was a bit of a bust since most of the hipoisie were investigating the newly opened Cheetah across town. In rare spare moments between co-running the Norton Records empire and pounding the skins for the A-Bones in various far-flung locales, my idol Miriam Linna is busy putting the finishing touches on I Fought the Law: The Authorized Biography of Bobby Fuller. This will be a book-length expansion on her already stupendous "Bobby Fuller Story" article from Kicks #6. I won't steal any of the Fuller Phone Booth anecdotes she has collected (buy the book!...and the soon-to-be-released El Paso Rock Vol. 3 while you're at it!!!), but I'm compelled to scan these two images from the article. I hope she'll understand I do it not to be a thief, but only because there are precious few Phone Booth images out there and my readers demand visual stimuli. If you have any recollections of seeing Bobby Fuller at the Booth (or Ondine for that matter), drop her a line pronto! (I noticed her asking about that on the Steve Paul Scene facebook page.)






I knew about the Blues Project's appearance (July 25 to August 8, 1966), but I didn't know about Dion or a Rascals return! Jon & Lee & the Checkmates from Toronto (forerunners to Rhinoceros) were regulars as well. Unfortunately, that's about all the acts I've been able to find so far! I could have sworn reading elsewhere that the Knickerbockers and Mitch Ryder & the Detroit Wheels played there, but now I'm having trouble finding evidence so I'm probably misremembering things. Also, at the time of this writing I've only gotten up to the mid-June '66 issues of KRLA Beat...their database isn't searchable, but I'll definitely update things here if I come across any more references there, or anywhere else.

I don't know exactly when the Phone Booth became as obsolete as real phone booths are today, but I have not yet found any references beyond the summer of '66...and I have no idea what businesses took its place until the eventual demolition of the building. The luxe Carvi Hotel now stands on the site.



EDIT 9/2/2011:  Dig this recently unearthed '60s TV documentary on the Magicians, including some phab Phone Booth phootage.  Huge debt of gratitude to my great buddy Flipped Out Phil for the links.

EDIT 5/24/65:  Here's an ad for the Phone Booth from the 6/17/65 issue of the Village Voice.

Flushing the Bowl

My husband and I usually stay at a certain Manhattan hotel when visiting NYC, but it's all booked up this week, so we have a reservation at a new Ramada in Corona, my real hometown--overlooking scenic Grand Central Parkway and Shea Stadium. I've got to spend lots of time with what's left of my family (my mother passed away recently), so it's more convenient for my pops anyway. The hotel's proximity to Flushing Meadows Park (more pics/info here, here and here) is prompting me to ponder past rock and roll action in the area. I'll start with a long-lost hotbed of hippiedom:




(Via The Bowery Boys.)
SINGER BOWL--At the northern edge of Flushing Meadows, near the Shea Stadium/Willets Point stop on the 7 train. The Singer Bowl was an open-air stadium built for the '64 World's Fair and apparently sponsored by the Singer sewing machine company. Seems it was used primarily for sporting events until the late '60s, when it became a major venue for big summer rock shows. Some notables who played there:



The Doors, with the Who and the Kangaroo as openers, performed on August 2, 1968--an event which caused a riot, though of course volatility was not uncommon at Doors gigs (or Who shows for that matter!). There's a ticket stub for sale here, and the Doors' setlist for the night can be read here.

[UPDATE 5/14/2010: Quite a bit of footage from the Doors show wound up in When You're Strange, as shown on PBS the other night. Not so much of the band performing, but you do get to see Morrison mingling with some people in the crowd before the show (including a guy selling Who programs), and of him backstage comforting a girl who got hit with a chair during the melee. I tried to see if there was more on youtube, but no dice...however, I did find audio of "Light My Fire," and of the Who's whole set.]

Janis Joplin with Big Brother and the Holding Company and the Jimi Hendrix Experience were the big draws on August 23, 1968. This show is often called the New York Rock Festival, but I've seen the Doors/Who show referred to as such also--perhaps this was an overall title for concerts at the Singer that summer. I'm not absolutely sure who else was on the bill, but it may have included the Soft Machine and the Chambers Brothers, if this guy's memories are correct. Audio and video of Hendrix's set has been well-circulated among Jimi-philes.

[Oddly, this August 23 date conflicts with a reference I found for a bill featuring Country Joe and the Fish, the Byrds, and the 1910 Fruitgum Company.]

[UPDATE 5/25/2012: I just found some vintage reviews and photos for this show at a French Hendrix fan forum.  And a lady who attended the show recently posted a couple of Janis snapshots at the "You Know Your [sic.] From Flushing" FB group.]

Two of the NYC-area's finest, The (Young) Rascals and the Vagrants, shared a bill there on August 30, 1968--here's a ticket stub.

The Singer Bowl Music Festival happened on July 13, 1969, and appears to have been the heaviest show in the stadium's history. I haven't seen a copy of the full bill, but based on various websites I've perused, it included the Edwin Hawkins Singers, Raven, Jethro Tull, Ten Years After, Vanilla Fudge, the Jeff Beck Group, and Led Zeppelin--plus a jam session (no late-'60s fest was complete without one) comprising various members of those last three bands.

Later that summer, Poco, the Chambers Brothers and Albert King shared a bill on August 23. On August 29-30, Zeppelin played the Bowl again, with support from Buddy Guy and Foreplay, which featured Larry Coryell, Cream's Jack Bruce, and Mitch Mitchell from the Hendrix Experience. The Jimmy Castor Bunch played the Bowl in the early '70s, but I can't confirm the date.

On July 4, 1973, the Bowl was rededicated as the Louis Armstrong Stadium, a fitting tribute to Corona's most famous longtime resident. A concert in honor of what would have been Satchmo's 73rd birthday was held there that summer (presumably on August 4, though I haven't confirmed the date), featuring Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Eubie Blake, Gene Krupa and other jazzbos. But the stadium's days as a music venue were numbered. In 1978, Armstrong Stadium was adapted for use as a tennis facility called the USTA National Tennis Center, and it became the new home of the U.S. Open (formerly held at the West Side Tennis Club in Forest Hills--a place with its own musical legacy, to be discussed in a future entry). Armstrong Stadium still stands today, albeit in a much-renovated form; it serves as a supplemental facility to the larger Arthur Ashe Stadium, which was built beside it in 1997. Thousands still flock to the area every summer--but instead of rock and roll, they're more likely to hear grunting tennis players, balls whacked against racquets, and the otherworldy hum of the Fuji blimp circling overhead.

I'll cover more of Flushing Meadows' musical happenings next time.

[UPDATE 5/23/2010: Why I failed to learn about or mention the important role that Gary Kurfirst played in all of this until just now is a mystery for the ages.]


[UPDATE 6/17/2020: Here's an ad for the 1969 season from the 6/5/69 issue of the Village Voice. It's incomplete, so I'll keep looking for revised versions of the ad in the archives.]

[UPDATE 3/15/2012:  Revised and updated post on Singer Bowl and NY Pavilion ads here.]