Thursday, April 30, 2009

Lead the return to civil discourse

Lead the return to civil discourse

http://www.centredaily.com/living/story/1250629.html

By Charles Dumas
Apr. 26, 2009

Eight years ago, a group of Penn State students "occupied" the
HUB-Robeson Building to call attention to issues of race. It was not
the first time. In 1969, PSU students had occupied the
telecommunications building protesting the war and racial issues.

I was told by veterans of that time that the university
administration acted as if they were under siege by hostile forces.

In '64, I was part of a civil rights group in Oakland, Calif., which
was recruiting students at UC-Berkeley to protest racist hiring
policies of the local daily paper. The paper's publisher, also a
university trustee, demanded that the school shut us down. They did.
It resulted in a series of violent confrontations that ultimately led
to the Free Speech Movement.

Four years later, I was part of a theater/activist group that was
protesting Columbia University's attempt to annex parts of the Harlem
Community. Some of the black students occupied Hamilton Hall in
solidarity. Later, hundreds of white students occupied several other
buildings in sympathetic protest.

Columbia called in the New York City police. Hundreds of students
were arrested, others were beaten bloody. Prosecution had replaced
pedagogy in the name of restoring order.

There were other student protests with even more disastrous results.
The national guard opened fire on a protest at Kent State killing
four students. Other students were killed protesting at Jackson
State, in Orangeburg, S.C.

But at Penn State, in 2001, the administration and protesting
students did a strange thing in response to the situation. For nine
days they sat down and talked with each other about the problems and
their mutual concerns. Meanwhile, the students would attend classes,
take exams and write papers. At the end of the day they would return
to the HUB-Robeson Center to sleep for the night.

University President Graham Spanier and Vice Provost Terrell Jones,
negotiating for the administration, also went about their duties
preparing for graduation.

In the end, the students and administration reached an agreement.
Among the programs established: The Africana Research Center, an
increase in faculty lines in the African and African-American Studies
Department from 2.5 to 10, more courses and scholarships in AAAS.

By talking with each other, these potential adversaries had together
helped to create a new environment of civility and diversity.

Those events drew national attention. Later that spring my wife and I
went to a family centenary celebration of their ancestor's graduation
from West Point. During a question-and-answer session, the academy's
commandant was asked whether the cadets had any courses in ethical
behavior. "Yes, we talk to them about ethical conduct," he said. "But
we don't sit down and have discussions. This is West Point not Penn State."

Four months later, on Sept. 11, the world was flipped upside down by
the attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and in
Pennsylvania. We stopped talking to each other. War, torture and
terror replaced negotiation. Maybe it's time we followed the lead of
the children of the Village and start talking again.
--

Charles Dumas is an associate professor in the School of Theatre at Penn State.

.

'Quiet' Copenhagen cracks down on deadly gang war

[2 articles]

Man's jaw blown off in grenade attack

http://www.cphpost.dk/news/local/87-local/45478-mans-jaw-blown-off-in-grenade-attack.html

Friday, 24 April 2009

A number of people were injured - one seriously - when a hand
grenade was thrown at them outside a Christiania café

A young man had part of his jaw blown off in an indiscriminate attack
last night in the Christiania area of Copenhagen.

The 22-year-old and four friends were sitting at a picnic table
outside Café Nemoland when a hand grenade landed near them shortly
after midnight.

The man's face was badly injured when he was hit by shrapnel, but
his condition was described as stable last night.

Three of his companions received less severe injuries to their backs
and legs, while one escaped injury in the attack. The three have been
discharged from hospital.

Henrik Vedel from the Copenhagen Police called it an 'unscrupulous
attack, where the perpetrator had no qualms about who was hit'. Vedel
said the hand grenade had been thrown from a darkened area behind the
restaurant, but so far police have found no trace of the attacker.

No motive has yet been established for the attack and police said
none of the five people at the table were previously known to
authorities. They have appealed for witnesses to the attack to come
forward with any information.

--------

'Quiet' Copenhagen cracks down on deadly gang war

http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5huNki6C0X-VOpxtP6gezf0rqebow

4/25/09

COPENHAGEN (AFP) ­ A grenade tossed into a cafe, gunfire in the
street, dead bodies splayed on the pavement, residents living in fear
-- all sounds out of sync with the medieval cobbled streets and
copper roofs of the Danish capital.

But a bloody gang war between bikers and youths of immigrant origin
has shattered Copenhagen's customary calm and jolted officials to
boost action against violence that has left three dead and 17 wounded
in seven months.

Two more attacks this week -- one Friday using a hand grenade --
heightened alarm, even if police would not immediately link them to gangs.

"We won't accept this settling of scores between gangs that is
frightening the population," Anders Fogh Rasmussen said earlier this
month before stepping down as prime minister to become NATO secretary general.

Officials, he vowed, would "take all necessary means to halt the
escalating violence," as Copenhagen's police chief promised to use
"Al Capone-like tactics" to go after the gangs.

The battle over drug sales, revenge and wounded honour pits Hells
Angels bikers and their offshoot called AK81 against gangs of mainly
second and third-generation immigrant youths.

The long-simmering conflict exploded into full-blown war last August,
after a 19-year-old man of Turkish origin named Osam Nuri Dogan, who
was armed and wearing a bullet-proof vest, was executed on the street.

His body was riddled with 25 bullets in front of a Copenhagen pizza parlour.

A member of AK81 suspected of the killing was arrested but quickly
released for lack of evidence.

Since then, violent acts of retaliation have become almost a daily
occurrence in the capital -- and raised concern of fueling
anti-immigrant sentiment in a country long skeptical of Muslims where
tightening immigration has been the cornerstone of government policy.

Early Friday, an unknown assailant launched a grenade at a packed
cafe patronized by bikers in Christiania, Copenhagen's giant squat
and repair of free spirits and marginals since the 1970s. Four were
wounded, including a 22-year-old man whose cheek was ripped out by
the blast. "It was an odious attack... and a miracle that no one was
killed," a city deputy police commissioner, Boris Jensen, told AFP.

It came a week after another attack in Christiania in which an AK81
member shot and seriously wounded a 30-year-old man in the stomach.
Tabloids said it was gangs settling scores but police, again, would
not confirm this.

The majority of attacks -- including one Wednesday in which police
said "two men on a motorcycle" shot and wounded a 29-year-old man of
Egyptian-Eritrean descent -- have occurred in the heavily immigrant
Noerrebro neighborhood.

The sound of gunfire there has become all too common but residents
were shocked out of complacency two months ago when three separate
shootings in as many days killed two people with no links to gangs
and wounded four others.

Protesters dressed in mourning as for a funeral have repeatedly
marched through the capital demanding a "gun-free zone" in Noerrebro
so people can take a walk "without worrying about being killed by a
stray bullet".

Rasmussen personally visited a Noerrebro school in early April to try
to calm nerves. "You shouldn't have to have a knot of fear in your
stomach when you go outside," he told a worried 16-year-old.

Police have dramatically increased their presence in trouble zones.

Parliament, meanwhile, has scheduled a major hearing on the gang war
on April 29 and the justice ministry is preparing a draft law to
bolster legal action.

The bill, which parliament is expected to approve before summer
recess, will "lead to a doubling of penalties for certain types of
serious crimes committed in connection with the retaliatory attacks
between gangs," said Justice Minister Brian Mikkelsen.

It would also dramatically increase jail time for possession of
illegal weapons and give police more leeway in tapping phones and
holding suspects in custody.

"We will give them no peace," Copenhagen chief police inspector Per
Larsen told AFP, saying more than 200 illegal weapons had been seized
from gang members in recent months. "We're going to be after them,
put pressure on them, use Al Capone-like tactics and cooperate with
the tax authorities to stop their illegal sources of financing, which
have been keeping this war going," he said.

The attacks have raised the spectre of a repeat of a gang war that
raged in the 1990s, which left 11 people dead.

"The gangs have recruited a lot in recent months," said Copenhagen
police chief Jens Henrik Hoejbjerg.

He said nearly 80 different groups of bikers and immigrant-origin
youths, or a total of 944 people, have been under police
surveillance, though he said the city's true number of gang members
-- most of them bikers -- was probably closer to 1,500.

Already in 2008, at least 76 of the 167 shootings registered in
Denmark, mainly in Copenhagen, were directly linked to gangs. A year
earlier, the Scandinavian country had only 28 shootings, under half
of which were attributed to gangs.

Some fear the gang violence could fan racial hostility, as a March 11
YouGov Zapera poll showed that 74 percent of Danes felt "immigrants"
were primarily responsible for the gang wars.

"This is no longer just a conflict about money and power but ...
between those who feel profound hatred towards 'immigrants' and those
who feel the same way towards 'racists'," Michael Hviid Jacobsen, a
criminologist at the University of Aalborg, told AFP.

And this "explains the ease with which the two sides have been
recruiting," he said.

Jacobsen partly blames politicians and the media, saying they tend to
use the term "immigrant" for anti-biker gang members even though most
are Danish-born from families who immigrated two or three generations ago.

Others point the finger at police.

"The police only focus on the darkies as if we were responsible for
everything," Hassan, a Noerrebro teenager who refused to give his
last name, told AFP.

Police roundly reject the accusation.

"It's absurd. We don't discriminate," said chief police inspector
Larsen. "We are also putting pressure on the bikers, searching them too.

"Our goal is to end this war, that's all," he said.

.

A Historical Perspective on the Question: Am I a Feminist?

A Historical Perspective on the Question: Am I a Feminist?

http://www.feministing.com/archives/014969.html

April 22, 2009

Check out this interesting guest post by artist and yogini Maya
Breuer on her own history as it relates to feminism through the
generations, a topic we will continue to explore leading up to the
conference this fall at the Omega Institute. We will be publishing a
series of guest posts as a fun way of initiating some of the
speakers--who are generally new to blogging--into our exciting online
community. Please make them feel welcome.
--

Back in the 60's I did not fit the typical description of a feminist.
When Gloria Steinem, Bella Abzug and Betty Friedan founded the
Women's Political Caucus, I was enmeshed in the politics of economic
inequality. I attended the '72 Democratic National Convention, as a
representative from the National Welfare Rights Organization,
protesting cutbacks in federal assistance to poor families.

Following that convention, I did community action work in equal
employment and affirmative action. I was also a young black mother
attempting to find my voice, which was becoming tinged with overtones
from inspiring women like Angela Davis and Sonya Sanchez.

I was also in an abusive marriage. After one particular beating from
my husband, I went to the local police station seeking protection. I
registered my complaint. The officer asked, "Isn't he that news
reporter from Channel __?" "Yes, I replied, he is."

He then asked me to have a seat. When he returned he said, "Mrs.___,
we'll take you home, and have a conversation with him. Then he added,
"He's a good guy, we'll talk with him."

The police escorted me home, spoke with my husband, but nothing
happened. I was struck with the reality that there was no protection
for me or my children. True, I was a black woman, but now I felt the
need to align myself with other women, and to figure out how I fit in
to the feminist movement. Was there a place for black women in the
feminist movement? If I joined would it somehow diminish my
commitment to racial equality?

I joined a consciousness raising group. We met regularly, we laughed,
we talked, we cried, we pondered and discussed events of the day in
the feminist and the civil rights movements. We talked about how
restrictive marriage could be, that women had no personal
reproductive rights, the need for legal protection and safe haven for
women being abused, and sitting on the floor we even looked at our
own vaginas with speculum-like mirrors.

I read The Feminine Mystique, lauded Shirley Chisholm's run for the
Presidency and celebrated the landmark Roe v. Wade decision, all the
while trying to figure out where I stood. Was I a feminist?

Since the 90's my work as a yoga instructor and director of the yoga
retreat for women of color has led me to recognize the value in an
evolving and growing feminist perspective. I have worked primarily
with women of all ethnicities, socio economic backgrounds and
generations. Our intergenerational dialogues have encouraged many to
find their own voice and vision for personal growth. The need to be
part of a collective feminist consciousness is as essential today as ever.

This September, women of all colors and generations are coming
together at Omega for the Women and Power Conference to dialogue
about feminism, health, art, body, mind and spirit. I look forward to
sharing my voice and experiencing the collective voices and wisdoms
of others. Perhaps our intergenerational dialogues at Omega will
begin an evolution into the next wave of global woman spirit and the
feminist movement.
--

Maya Breuer, RYT, is a yogini and jazz and visual artist who began
her study of yoga at the Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health. In 1994,
she traveled to India to study the traditional and time-honored
aspects of yoga with Shri Rajarshi Muni.

A senior Kripalu Yoga teacher, Maya has strived to bring the healing
benefits and knowledge of the dharma of yoga and a holistic lifestyle
to minority communities. She believes sincerely in soul, spirit,
growth, and personal transformation through yoga and daily holistic practices.

Maya is the founder and director of the Santosha School of Yoga,
which offers certifications for beginner and advanced curriculums,
and creator of the national Yoga Retreat for Women of Color offered
throughout the United States. In her lectures and workshops, she
combines the classical and ancient traditions of yoga with her
soulful life experience to fashion a feminine and sacred approach to
teaching this ancient practice.

An active member of the International Association of Black Yoga
Teachers and Kripalu Yoga Teacher's Association, Maya is an affiliate
instructor for the American Yoga College and a member of the Kripalu
Center Board of Trustees. She is also one of the featured authors in
Stephen Cope's Will Yoga and Meditation Really Change My Life? and
recipient of the Trailblazer Award from the International Association
of Black Yoga Teachers, 2006.

Raised in the Jewish faith, Maya feels a deep alignment with Tikkun
Olam, the work to repair the world. She is currently at work on her
first book, Soul Yoga, about how women of color can blend ancestral
traditions and Eastern practices to create a healing spiritual life.

.

Civil Rights pioneer has Valley roots

Civil Rights pioneer has Valley roots

http://www.rrdailyherald.com/articles/2009/04/22/news/doc49ef7d4380f81297968885.txt

by Todd Wetherington, Daily Herald Staff Writer
April 22, 2009

LITTLETON ­ Rosa Parks. Martin Luther King Jr. Malcolm X. These names
are familiar to anyone old enough to pick up a history book and read
about the U.S. Civil Rights Movement and the profound change it
brought to America. One name that may not immediately spring to mind
is Ella Baker. While Baker's most lasting work would be accomplished
in cities from New York to Atlanta, the seeds of her beliefs sprang
from the fertile soil of a small town in Halifax County.

Born on Dec. 13, 1903, in Norfolk, Va., Baker's family moved to her
mother's hometown of Littleton when she was nine. As a young girl,
Baker developed a sense for the historical scope of social injustice
from her grandmother, a former slave who would often tell Baker about
the time she was whipped for refusing to marry a man chosen for her
by her owner.

Following high school, Baker attended Shaw University in Raleigh,
where she gained the reputation as a rebel by challenging school
policies she believed to be unfair.

After graduating from Shaw as class valedictorian in 1927, she moved
to New York, where she took a job as an editorial staff manager at
the Negro National News. Baker went on to join the Young Negro's
Cooperative League, which sought to develop black economic power
through collective planning. In 1931 she became the group's national director.

During that same year, Baker would use her increasing influence to
support the campaign to free the "Scottsboro Boys," nine young black
men from Alabama falsely accused of raping a white woman. The case
was one of the most inflammatory of its era.

Realizing the Scottsboro case was simply one manifestation of the
oppression and racial hostility prevalent at the time, Baker pressed
on. Concerning her work she stated, "In order for us as poor and
oppressed people to become a part of a society that is meaningful,
the system under which we now exist has to be radically changed."

In 1940 she took a job as field secretary with the NAACP, where she
would serve as director of branches from 1943 to 1946. Inspired by
the historic bus boycott in Montgomery, Ala, in 1955, Baker
co-founded In Friendship, an organization to raise money to fight
against Jim Crow Laws in the deep South.

Baker's work with the NAACP would eventually take her to Atlanta,
where she would help organize Martin Luther King's group, the
Southern Christian Leadership Conference. During this time she also
ran a voter registration campaign called Crusade for Citizenship.

Baker worked closely with southern civil rights activists in Georgia,
Alabama and Mississippi and was highly respected for her organizing
skills. She remained in Atlanta until 1960, acting as interim
executive director of the SCLC.

Later that year, on the heels of regional desegregation sit-ins led
by black college students, Baker took part in the Southwide Youth
Leadership Conference at Shaw University, a meeting that would lead
to the formation of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee,
one of the most active civil rights organizations in the country.
With Baker's help the SNCC organized the freedom rides of 1961 and
began working closely with black sharecroppers throughout the South.
Around this time she was quoted as saying, "Until the killing of
black men, black mothers' sons, becomes as important to the rest of
the country as the killing of a white mothers' son, we who believe in
freedom cannot rest."

Though Baker worked closely with various organizations, she was often
critical of their leadership. She was quoted as saying that "strong
people don't need strong leaders" and fought for the idea of
"participatory democracy," which argued for the minimization of
hierarchy. Baker stated that people "under the heel" or those most
oppressed, should be the ones to decide what action they would take
to improve their lives.

During her years at the forefront of the civil rights movement, Baker
acted as a mentor to such important figures as Stokely Carmichael,
Julian Bond and Bernice Johnson Reagon, who wrote "Ella's Song" in
her honor. Students for a Democratic Society, the major anti-war
group of the 1960's, was highly influenced by Baker's idea of
participatory democracy. Through SDS and other organizations her
philosophy would go on to influence a wide range of radical and
progressive groups that would form in the following decade.

In the years to come Baker would return to New York, where she would
continue to lend her time and talent to a number of civil rights
causes, speaking out in support of jailed professor Angela Davis and
joining in the protest against apartheid in South Africa. Said Baker:
"Remember, we are not fighting for the freedom of the Negro alone,
but for the freedom of the human spirit, a larger freedom that
encompasses all mankind."

Baker would continue her activism until her death in New York City on
December 13, 1986, her 83rd birthday. Her influence is reflected in
the nickname she acquired: "Fundi" a Swahili word meaning a person
who teaches a craft to the next generation.

"The major job was getting people to understand that they had
something within their power that they could use," Baker once said,
"and it could only be used if they understood what was happening and
how group action could counter violence."

Gary Grant, executive director of Concerned Citizens of Tillery,
spoke about the importance of Baker's example to the young men and
women taking part in the civil right's movement of the era. "She was
a major player for many young people," said Grant, who marched with
Martin Luther King Jr. in 1962. "Around the time of the sit-ins in
Greensboro is when we first heard her name. I have to say she was
inspiring, a teacher of non-violence who showed us how to fight for
true justice and freedom."

Baker's legacy lives on through the work of countless civil rights
groups and protesters across the globe. Her words live on in "Ella's
Song" whose lyrics quote the former resident of that small, Roanoke
Valley town: "We who believe in freedom cannot rest."

.

Event Will Mark Era of “Lumumba-Zapata College” Activism

April 24 Event Will Mark Era of "Lumumba-Zapata College"Activism

http://www.laprensa-sandiego.org/current/Zapata.042409.htm

April 24, 2009

A 40-year commemoration of the days when student activists attempted
to name the new third college on the University of California, San
Diego campus as "Lumumba-Zapata College" will be held at 6 p.m. April
24 in the Cross-Cultural Center. The event is free and open to the public.

A number of emerti faculty members and students, all key players in
the 1969 event, are expected to participate in the commemoration,
planned as a component of UC San Diego's month-long celebration of
labor leader and human rights champion Cesar Chavez's life and achievements.

"Although Lumumba-Zapata College was never created­becoming Third and
eventually Thurgood Marshall College­the episode stands as a key
chapter both in the history of UC San Diego and the history of
educational reform," noted Jorge Mariscal, professor of literature
and chair of the Cesar E. Chavez Recognition Planning Committee. "The
Lumumba-Zapata student demands foresaw many of the most pressing
educational issues affecting communities of color that are still
unresolved today."

Among attendees at the commemoration will be former UC San Diego
professor Arturo Madrid, who taught in Third College. Madrid went on
to become founding president of the Tomas Rivera Center, the nation's
first institute for policy studies on Latino issues, and director of
the Ford Foundation's Graduate Fellowships Program. He is currently
Norine R. and T. Frank Mur-chison Distinguished Professor of the
Humanities at Trinity University in San Antonio, Tex.

Among emeriti UC San Diego professors expected to attend are Carlos
Blanco and Joe Watson, while Roberta Alexander, San Diego City
College professor; Ed Spriggs, UC San Diego associate vice chancellor
and attorney Maria Blanco, Boalt Hall, UC Berkeley, will be among
former student activists and original Third College staff attending.

Brief comments will be made by current UC San Diego students
representing the Black Student Union, MEChA and the Student
Affirmative Action Committee (SAAC).

As noted in Mariscal's 2005 book, Brown-Eyed Children of the Sun, "In
March of 1969 student activists from the newly-formed Mexican
American Youth Association/Black Student Council coalition would dive
directly into the struggle over higher education by intervening in
the UCSD administration's plans for a new third college. Planning for
the college was well underway, but when provost-designate Armin
Rappaport asked students for input on possible ethnic studies
courses, the BSC/MAYA activists developed an elaborate program that
eventually derailed all earlier plans. A key demand was that the
college be named after Congolese revolutionary Patrice Lumumba and
Mexican revolutionary Emiliano Zapata. The objective of the new
college would be, as philosophy graduate student Angela Davis put it,
'to provide Black and Brown students the knowledge and skills we
needed in order to more effectively wage our liberation struggles.'
The coalition's demands were presented to Chancellor William McGill
on March 14, 1969 as the Lumumba-Zapata College, BSC -MAYA Demands
for the Third College, UCSD."

.

Folk icon Paxton in tune with the times

Folk icon Paxton in tune with the times

http://www.montrealgazette.com/Entertainment/Folk+icon+Paxton+lives/1519957/story.html

By Bernard Perusse, The Gazette
April 21, 2009

Tom Paxton uses an application on his iPhone to store song ideas when
he's on the road. He's also preparing to perform the song John Henry
with Tom Morello of the alternative-metal rock band Rage Against the
Machine at Pete Seeger's 90th birthday concert at Madison Square Garden.

Paxton, who will be here at Concordia's Oscar Peterson Hall Sunday
night, is fully living in the present, but some of his best-known
songs have been part of folk music's DNA for so long you have to keep
reminding yourself they're not traditional.

Some people are convinced songs like Ramblin' Boy and I Can't Help
But Wonder Where I'm Bound have been around forever. In fact, when
Paxton's daughter Kate was in her first year of college at St.
Andrew's in Scotland, she went with some friends to a pub, where a
local folkie was playing The Last Thing On My Mind. After the set,
she thanked him for playing her father's song ­ only to be told by
the young musician that it was a traditional Scottish folk song he
had learned from his own father. Kate pressed the point.

Paxton picked up the story during a telephone interview last week.
"(The singer) thought for the longest time and said `Well, your
father might have written it.' I decided to go with `I might have
written it,'" he said, laughing.

No trace of resentment is audible in his voice. If anything, he seems
to love the story. "It was always a dream of mine to have songs go
into the tradition and have people love the songs and wonder who
wrote them," he said.

That same sense of wonder is what started Paxton on a musical career
that has been going for almost 50 years ­ and counting ­ landing him
a Lifetime Achievement Grammy award in February. And the record that
was his first guide was The Weavers at Carnegie Hall, a seminal 1957
live recording by the folk group that included Seeger.

"By the end of Side B, I had undergone a chromosomal change, from
someone who loved this music to someone who simply had to do it,"
Paxton said. "The scope (of the album) was unbelievable."

Seeger's early support of Paxton's work, notably his recording of
Ramblin' Boy, also with the Weavers, had a dramatic effect on the
fledgling writer. "It was validation," Paxton said. "It meant I
wasn't kidding myself, that I actually did have something to
contribute. And that there was room for me at the table."

While many of Paxton's albums are filled with songs directly inspired
from the headlines, the protest movement and its politically-charged
anthems started making space for more personal visions by the
mid-60s. Around that time, Paxton had a highly symbolic moment with a
friend from the folk scene who had begun to march to his own drummer
and had a new song to reinforce the point. It happened at the Kettle
of Fish bar in Greenwich Village.

"We had a table right up by the door, where we tended to hang out
between sets," Paxton said. "On a given night, Dave Van Ronk would be
there, Phil Ochs, Eric Andersen, Patrick Sky, David Blue ­ a lot of
bulls---, a lot of kidding, a lot of argument.

"One night, an argument was going on between Van Ronk and Ochs across
the table. Bob Dylan was sitting next to me. He leaned over and said
`Listen, I want you to hear this,' and he sang Gates of Eden into my
ear," Paxton said. "He sang in a whisper, as if he were telling me a secret."

The secret would be out before long, and the Beatles-led electric
generation would be spreading the news. The Byrds amplified Dylan
songs, while Paxton's Bottle of Wine was given a stomping backbeat by
the Fireballs and his Mr. Blue was psychedelicized by Clear Light.
Paxton said he loved both interpretations.

The civil rights movement that largely defined that era has never
been more dramatically manifested than in Barack Obama's election to
the U.S. presidency, Paxton acknowledged. But while he emphatically
insisted that no one's mind gets changed by a song, he conceded that
the music his generation of writers put out there played a long-term
part in reinforcing peoples' growing convictions.

"I think these songs helped put a voice to a theme that was running
through a generation," he said. "You can't imagine the movement
having succeeded without the songs, without We Shall Overcome. It was
part of what moved the boulder."

Paxton occasionally rewrites some of his old topical songs to fit the
times: I'm Changing My Name to Chrysler, about the 1979 U.S.
government loans to the auto giant, for example, is now I'm Changing
My Name to Fannie Mae. Lyndon Johnson Told the Nation was also later
modified to fit George W. Bush.

Finding ideas in the newspapers is an exercise Paxton said he assigns
to participants in his songwriting seminars, his most recent sessions
given a few years ago at Warren Wilson College in North Carolina.

"I tell them 'Find something (in the news) that moves you to any
emotion whatsoever ­ anger, fear, loathing, hilarity ­ and write a
song from the point of view of a participant or an eyewitness. It
gets you out of writing about your boring lives. Write about the
world as a participant; make it immediate.'

"That's how I approach topical songwriting." he said. "I like to
write in the first person ­ even if it's seldom me."
--

Tom Paxton performs Sunday night at 8 at Concordia University's Oscar
Peterson Concert Hall, 7141 Sherbrooke St. W. Tickets cost $40 to
$57. Phone 514-790-1245 or go to www.admission.com. For further
information, phone 514-524-9225.
--

bperusse@thegazette.canwest.com

.

Smothers Brothers stand tall with wit and talent undiminished

Smothers Brothers stand tall with wit and talent undiminished

http://www.buffalonews.com/entertainment/story/651936.html

04/26/09
By Anne Neville
NEWS STAFF REVIEWER

If you have never seen the Smothers Brothers, it's possible to
pigeonhole them as kind of a one-trick-pony comedy act in which one
brother plays a dumb guy who makes stuff up and the other plays a
superior straight man.

A lot of their act does rely on this foundation, but it was apparent
from the minute the brothers hit the stage at Kleinhans Music Hall
Saturday night that their 50-some years of playing off each other has
allowed Tom and Dick Smothers to hone their interactions to perfect
comebacks delivered with superb comedic timing.

Looking trim, dapper, and just the slightest bit older than they were
when CBS first harassed and censored, then fired them from their
cutting-edge comedy hour back in 1969, the brothers took the stage
with a song, to the tune of "Those Were the Days," a 1968 hit:

"Once upon a time we were on TV/Every Sunday night we knocked them
dead/We got into some trouble, so they fired us/I guess it was
something that we said!"

Although there was a sprinkling of young people in the audience, for
the vast majority of those in the almost-full house, both the song
and the story were familiar, and people clapped along.

The brothers are strong musically, Dick's clear tenor shining and Tom
displaying top-notch guitar skills as he tackles genres from folk and
classical to a fast-fingered flamenco.

The pair expressed their delight at playing in Buffalo again, with
our great philharmonic. Tom explained the difference between a
philharmonic orchestra and a symphony orchestra: A symphony
orchestra, he said, "plays mostly in the key of C," while a
philharmonic "plays in any key it wants, and they're paid a lot
less." The quip drew knowing laughter from the crowd.

Tom then began a story, starting off with the fact that he is a pilot
­ as is, he claimed, BPO Conductor Paul Ferington ­ and the brothers
had flown into Syracuse, where they rented a Cessna and Tom flew his
brother around the area, up the Niagara River, over the falls, a
beautiful trip to take in October, when the leaves are turning
colors. "Tom, this is not true!" Dick said, to which Tom replied,
with a crafty smile, "A lot of it is true!"

Tom's reasons for claiming to be a pilot ranged from, "When I walked
on stage I could not recall not being a pilot" to "I used to work
with Bernie Madoff!"

Even Dick got in a zinger: "You are a frequent flier. But no matter
how many miles you accumulate, they never upgrade you to pilot!"

The brothers started off a medley of folk songs about towns in Texas,
"Quando Caliente el Sol," Gilbert and Sullivan's "Poor Wandering
One," each dissolving into comedy,

confusion and chaos, or, in one case, into yodeling and Tom playing
the "dueling banjos" song from "Deliverance."

A segment in which a silent Tom did yo-yo tricks, wearing a plaid
shirt and wide yellow suspenders, was mildly amusing, but fell short
of the brothers' verbal interactions. They recovered their momentum
with a series of photos and videos of their past, ranging from their
baby pictures to clips from their Comedy Hour, including songs by The
Doors, The Who, Kenny Rogers and the brothers themselves singing Phil
Ochs' controversial "Draft Dodger Rag."

Paul Ferington, who conducted the BPO through the first half of the
concert, selected music that referred to the tumultuous times of the
late 1960s and early 1970s, including selections from "Hair," "West
Side Story," "Jesus Christ Superstar" and the Beatles' "Yesterday,"
all evocative and magnificently performed.

"Age of Aquarius" and "Let the Sunshine In," the medley from "Hair,"
was particularly moving when delivered by the majestic orchestra.
Opening with a sweet and simple string note, it grew in power with
additions of many musical voices, with layered percussion and
tambourine contributions particularly appealing. The "West Side
Story" overture and triumphant final piece from "Jesus Christ
Superstar" filled the house with melodies that were familiar and
sound that was intensified into a higher sphere.

Concert Review
Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra with the Smothers Brothers
Saturday night in Kleinhans Music Hall.
--

aneville@buffnews.com

.

In Conversation with Peter Fonda

In Conversation with Peter Fonda

http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/entertainmentfeatures/view/424565/1/.html

By Genevieve Loh
24 April 2009

SINGAPORE: Who is Peter Fonda? Is he the least famous member of the
revered Fonda acting dynasty? Or the outspoken, brash and long-haired
nonconformist who got arrested in the 1966 anti-war Sunset Strip riot
which was forcefully ended by the Los Angeles Police?

Or perhaps he's the unconventional Hollywood leading man who uttered
the words "I know what it's like to be dead" while partying with The
Beatles back in 1965, thus inspiring their song She Said She Said,
which appeared in their 1966 album Revolver?

Peter Fonda ­ icon of '60s western counter-culture,
writer-producer-actor of cinematic masterpiece Easy Rider, son of
legendary actor Henry, brother of Jane and father of Bridget ­ is all
of that and more. A lot more.

In town this weekend to present the Best Film award (Singapore Film
Category) at the 22nd Singapore International Film Festival Silver
Screen Awards tonight and for a public question-and-answer session
Saturday at LASALLE, the 69-year-old nature- and music-lover was
happy to tell animated stories about... Well, just about everything.

Chatting with Fonda over iced tea at the Amara Sanctuary Resort
Sentosa, we learnt how the two-time Oscar nominee never suffers from
jetlag when he's in our neck of the woods because of the pull of
being so close to the equator.

And that this is actually his second visit to our "beautiful island"
because "back in 1982, the plane made an unscheduled landing and I
spent eight hours in your airport but they wouldn't let us come into town".

One topic Fonda was quite happy to stay on, however, was Easy Rider.
He recounted how he and Dennis Hopper (who co-starred, co-wrote and
directed the film) initially didn't really want Jack Nicholson in the
movie but eventually changed their minds.

"We already had the audience who believed in our (counter) culture
and I knew he'd bring in the fringe audience. And he did."

It's been 40 years since Fonda, Hopper and Nicholson kick-started a
mini pop-cultural revolution astride a Harley Davidson with that
film. Does the man, who was last seen beside Russell Crowe and
Christian Bale in 3:10 to Yuma, ever get tired of talking about the movie?

"It used to annoy me that people kept asking me to talk about Easy
Rider. And then I realised I shouldn't be annoyed. I should be
gracious to know that there are so many people from so many walks of
life, of different cultures and different countries to whom the movie
touched. And that makes me very happy."
--

In Conversation with Peter Fonda will be held at LASALLE College Of
The Arts, Singapore Airlines Theatre (Basement 1), 1 McNally Street
on Sat (April 25) at 2pm. Tickets at S$9.50 (not inclusiveof Sistic
fee) from Sistic.

.

High on the '60s? This show'll bring you down

High on the '60s? This show'll bring you down

http://www.philly.com/philly/entertainment/20090424_CasiNotes__High_on_the__60s__This_show_ll_bring_you_down.html

By Chuck Darrow
4/24/09

TROPICANA CASINO and Resort is to be commended for being the only
Atlantic City casino that programs traditional production shows on a
year-round basis. But that doesn't mean that the Trop gets a pass for
its latest effort, "Celebration of the '60s."

The revusical's problems begin with its title, which, while
chronologically accurate, is somewhat misleading. Sure, all of its
material was originally recorded between 1960 and '69. But when most
people think of what we now consider "the '60s," what is conjured up
is that world-changing stretch of the latter half of the decade when
popular culture was molded by the "sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll"
ethos of the counterculture.

However, "Celebration of the '60s" barely tips its bell-bottoms to
that era. Instead, the bulk of the 70-minute program, running through
June 6, pays tribute to the far more musically and culturally
innocent early '60s, when "American Bandstand" set the pop music agenda.

As a result, the likes of Bob Dylan, the Beatles, Jefferson Airplane,
the Doors, Jimi Hendrix and other generational titans are ignored in
favor of harmless (if phenomenally popular) artists like Neil Sedaka,
Connie Francis and the Four Seasons (true, "Twist and Shout," a
Beatles' signature, is included, but it was not written or recorded
first by them). And the show's two nods to real rock music, The Who's
"Pinball Wizard" and "Honky Tonk Woman" by the Rolling Stones, seem
totally out of place.

Even the poppier chart-toppers of the late-'60s (e.g. the Monkees,
the Association and such Motown legends as the Supremes, Four Tops
and Smokey Robinson) are ignored in favor of older artists.

Making matters worse is that "Celebration of the '60s" has no use for
anything resembling logic. There is neither narration nor video to
put the music into any kind of context, and the set list follows no
logical chronological or thematic threads.

Songs are performed willy-nilly; for example, "Crazy," the 1960
country ballad by Patsy Cline, is sandwiched by the Beach Boys' 1964
hit "Fun, Fun, Fun" and "Pinball Wizard," which was released in '69.

And there are more specific problems as well. For instance, there's
what has to be the most soulless version ever of Sam & Dave's "Soul
Man," and the out-of-place, Temptations-style choreography during the
Four Seasons sequence (uh, guys, the Seasons played their own
instruments and thus didn't dance).

Most glaring, however, is the rendition of Little Eva's 1962 smash,
"The Locomotion," which is reimagined as a smoky, cabaret jazz
number. It's safe to say that with this abomination, the year's
showbiz nadir has been reached in Atlantic City.

But there are some bright spots. The brief salute to the
groundbreaking Broadway musical "Hair" not only hits the right
musical notes, but it also gives the 16-member cast of singers and
dancers a showcase for their individual and collective talents. (And
suggests that "Hair" would be a perfect gaming-hall presentation.)

And, throughout, director-choreographer Alan Harding's dance schemes
nicely animate things.

Despite the show's many shortcomings, it's only fair to note that the
audience at a recent performance was nothing if not enthusiastic and
generous with its responses. But if you're at the Trop and have a
hankering for some musical nostalgia, you'll do much better by
checking out "Yesterday - A Tribute to the Beatles," in the Liverpool
Club, rather than "A Celebration of the '60s" in the big room.

Tropicana, Boardwalk at Brighton Avenue, 9 tomorrow, 7 p.m. Sunday, 8
p.m. Monday, 3:30 and 8 p.m. Tuesday-Wednesday, $25, 800-736-1420,
www.ticketmaster.com.

...
--

Chuck Darrow has covered Atlantic City and the casino industry for
more than 20 years. Read his blog at http://go.philly.com/casinotes.
E-mail him at darrowc@phillynews.com.

.

Books Set in the 1960s

Books Set in the 1960s

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124053850839051261.html?mod=googlenews_wsj

APRIL 24, 2009

My book group has read World War II novels; most of our members
remember this period. Two of us, however, came of age during the
'60s, and wonder if you know good books set in this period of
Haight-Ashbury, hippies, the peace movement?
­M.W., California

"California"? Could M.W., now a reputable citizen, be hiding from his
or her book club a secret past as a hippie?

Today, it's hard to believe how controversial hippies were in the
1960s. Psychological studies concluded they were the product of
tyrannical mothers and wussy fathers. A newspaper editorial
criticized a hippie commune in Pennsylvania for its poor sanitation:
"One hippie explained why a dog running through his food didn't
bother him -- 'Its paws only touched dirt, and dirt is part of God.'"

No one describes the earnest lunacy of the career hippie better than
T.C. Boyle in "Drop City." The novel starts in 1970, in a California
commune that's run on the LATWIDNO principle -- Land Access to Which
Is Denied No One. In other words, anyone with a yurt could tune in,
turn on, drop out. It won't surprise those who live with other people
that some characters start squabbling about such things as how many
eggs one slacker, probably suffering from munchies, snagged at a
supposedly communal breakfast. Much drama follows, and some of the
hippies decamp to Alaska, where they try to live off the land. Of
course they can't. But Mr. Boyle give these social outliers a fair
shot -- their idealism, their self-righteousness, their bull.

Other evocative novels about hippies are "His Illegal Self" by Peter
Carey (mostly set in a commune in the Australian outback) and "The
Darling" by Russell Banks (a member of the Weather Underground,
wanted by the F.B.I., flees to Africa).

I've always been fascinated by the subject of disappearing, as some
violent political activists did in the early '70s. Christopher
Sorrentino's "Trance" follows the remnants of the Symbionese
Liberation Army after half its members died in a police shootout. To
call them clowns -- deadly ones -- would not overstate their
ineptitude at flying under the radar. In "Eat the Document" by Dana
Spiotta, political bombers change their identities and live for
decades in a state of high-alert paranoia.

By the way, according to "The Hippie Dictionary," hippies didn't call
themselves hippies: "Most often we called ourselves 'freaks' or
'heads.' Not until later did we call ourselves hippies, and by then
we were 'aging hippies.'"
--

Send your questions about books and reading to Cynthia Crossen at
booklover@wsj.com.

.

Tommy James reflects on life with Roulette

Shondells' Tommy James reflects on life with Roulette

http://www.dailygazette.com/news/2009/apr/23/0423_james/

Thursday, April 23, 2009
By Brian McElhiney
Gazette Reporter

In 1966, a young Michigan singer and guitarist named Tommy James
signed a record deal with Roulette Records in New York City.

For the next four years, James and his band The Shondells racked up
two No. 1 hits, "Hanky Panky" and "Crimson and Clover," and numerous
other top 10 tracks on the label. The group's shiny pop sound and
hooky melodies ran counter to the more serious-minded psychedelic
trends of the time, earning them little respect from critics but
massive sales from audiences. After The Shondells called it quits in
1970, James continued with Roulette until 1974, scoring yet another
top 10 hit with 1971's "Dragging the Line."

But underneath the sunny exterior of the band's catchy pop songs and
fairy tale fame-and-fortune story lies a dark secret that James has
kept silent about over the years. It wasn't until 2005 that James was
able to safely reveal what he says the label truly was: a front for
the Genovese crime family.

"[Roulette] was basically used as everything from an illegal bank
account, running illegal stuff through there, to a social club where
all these guys would hang out," James said during a recent phone
interview from his home in New Jersey, just outside New York City.
"So I really didn't feel safe talking about all this until they
passed away, and the last one to pass away was Vinnie 'The Chin'
Gigante, who was the head of the family."

His time on Roulette makes up the majority of James' autobiography,
"Me, the Mob and Music," due out on Simon & Schuster toward the end
of the year. Plans are already under way to have famed director
Martin Scorcese direct a film version of the book next year.

In the meantime, James continues to play dates with his current
touring band under the Shondells monicker ­ the group will headline
Proctors' " '60s Spectacular" show on Saturday at 7:30 p.m. The
lineup also includes The Association, The New Rascals (one of two
present day incarnations of 1960s group The Rascals) and The
Happenings, all groups that James has had some sort of connection
with in the past.

"Some of these acts on the show I haven't worked with in ages, so
it's really great to see some of these guys," James said. "I've known
The Happenings since back in the '60s, but I haven't had the chance,
really, to work with them in 20, 30 years. Everybody on the show has
been a friend of mine for a long time."

James, who used to own a farm in Rensselaer County, is looking
forward to returning to the upstate region as well. "I love it up
there," he said.

He's also been busy on the recording front ­ last year he released
the holiday album "I Love Christmas" as well as the retrospective "40
Years," featuring all of his A-sides from The Shondells and his solo
career up through 2006. "I Love Christmas" holds some significance to
longtime followers of James, with the single "It's Christmas Again"
featuring the surviving members of the original Shondells: Mike Vale,
Eddie Gray and Ron Rosman (original drummer Peter Lucia died more
than 20 years ago).

That song, co-written by James and Vale, has sparked plans for a
full-blown reunion album, which the band will record later in the year.

"We had such fun being back in the studio together that we decided to
do an album," James said. "It's a great time for us all to be
together, with the release of the book and movie. We'll do a lot of
TV and publicity for the movie, so it's a really wonderful time for
the original band and I to be back together again."

Landing on Roulette

James, born in 1947 in Dayton, Ohio, relocated to Niles, Mich., with
his family in 1958. One year later, at the age of 12, James was in
his first band, Tom and the Tornadoes, which eventually became The Shondells.

In 1964, local label Snap Records originally released "Hanky Panky"
to regional success, but the single was quickly forgotten. Two years
later a Pittsburgh nightclub began playing the track, and the success
of the bootlegged single led James to put together a new version of
The Shondells, from Pittsburgh group The Raconteurs (this lineup is
the one that will be reuniting later this year).

James went shopping for a record deal in New York City, drawing
interest from major labels such as CBS and Atlantic, and from
Roulette Records, run by Morris Levy. Roulette eventually won out,
though by shady means, according to James.

"The way it happened was that all the companies said yes ­ Atlantic,
CBS, Kama Sutra," James said. "The last place it was taken to was
Roulette. The following day, we start getting calls back that they
have all got to pass. We said, we were really amazed, 'What's going
on? Why are they saying no after they said yes yesterday?' Later on,
I found out from Jerry Wexler at Atlantic that Morris Levy had called
all the companies and said, 'This is my [freaking] record.' They all
backed down; that's how we ended up on Roulette."

According to James, at the time the band signed with the label, they
didn't know of its purported mob connections, although they soon found out.

"Four of the regulars up at Roulette that we knew and were rubbing
shoulders with ended up being bosses of the family from 1966 through
the late '70s," James said. "It was quite an interesting place to be.
In the midst of having sold 110 million albums, 23 gold singles, nine
platinum, 80 [percent] to 90 percent of my success [was on the label]
­ all this was going on at the very same moment all this other very
dark stuff was going on at the same time. It was quite an education."

Get out of town

During his time with Roulette, James found himself in some "really
scary" situations, including a period in 1971 when he was forced to
leave New York City for Nashville, where he cut the
country-influenced "My Head, My Bed & My Red Guitar."

"When the Gambinos were taking over New York, Morris Levy and
Roulette were on the wrong side of that," James said. "I was told by
my lawyer . . . that it would be a good idea if I left town for a few
weeks. [He told me], 'If they can't get Morris, they'll get whatever
is making Morris money,' and that was me."

Although James said that "getting your money was practically
impossible and leaving was practically impossible," he did manage to
leave the label in 1974. However, he maintains that despite all this,
Roulette had its good points.

"They were a good record company as far as selling records; nobody
could sell singles better than Roulette, and gradually I got them
into the album market as well," James said.

"If we had been on any of the corporate labels, we would have been
handed an in-house producer, had one or two hits, and that would have
been the end of us. Basically, we were allowed to spend as much as we
needed to spend, and allowed to morph from a garage band to a pop
band into the psychedelic era. We were able to have the public's
attention to spend money and make the records we needed to make. I
don't think, if we had been on the majors, we would have been able to do that."
--

' '60s Spectacular'
WITH: Tommy James and the Shondells, The Association, The New
Rascals, The Happenings
When: 7:30 p.m. Saturday
Where: Proctors, 432 State St., Schenectady
How Much: $49.75, $42.75, $34.75
More Info: 346-6204 or www.proctors.org

.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Taos hosts a 'Summer of Love' celebration

Taos hosts a 'Summer of Love' celebration

http://www.usatoday.com/travel/destinations/2009-04-23-taos-summer-of-love_N.htm

4/23/09
By Jayne Clark, USA TODAY

It's been 40 years since Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper roared across
the New Mexico landscape against a high-desert sky and a Born to be
Wild soundtrack in the film Easy Rider. Now the community of Taos is
ready to par-tay from May through September in a flashback
commemoration that dusts off a number of the era's icons.

Dubbed Taos Summer of Love 2009, the event melds music, art and film,
and kicks off with a fundraising dinner May 3 hosted by Hopper, a
part-time Taos resident. The band Hot Tuna salutes biker week with a
concert May 23, and on June 6, Country Joe MacDonald will create his
Woodstock show. Other highlights: a photo exhibit of works from the
'60s and '70s, a "Psychedelic Sixties" dance performance, and on June
20, an outdoor showing of Easy Rider at the Taos County Sheriff's
Posse Arena. Now that's irony. Information: taossummeroflove.com.

.

WOODSTOCK REDUX

WOODSTOCK REDUX

http://auburnjournal.com/detail/112591.html?content_source=&category_id=&search_filter=&user_id=&event_mode=&event_ts_from=&event_ts_to=&list_type=&order_by=&order_sort=&content_class=1&sub_type=&town_id=&page=

The 40th anniversary of Woodstock will be get a West Coast
celebration later this year at San Francisco's Golden Gate Park.

The free concert should attract a sea of mellow humanity to look back
and, shall we dare to say, groove in fond remembrance of a festival
and a time that really rocked the planet. Guitar player Leigh
Stephens, whose music was a big part of those times, has been invited
to perform and has passed word to Media Life that he'll either be
riffing with his old band Blue Cheer or making super-charged sounds
with much the same group that he played with ­ and wowed ­ at the
Summer of Love tribute concert in late 2007.

Stephens, who's best known for some sizzling fretboard frenetics on
1968's "Summertime Blues," is on Rolling Stone magazine's list of Top
100 guitar players. He's also an Auburn resident.

Stephens is anticipating a good crowd and good weather. About 70,000
people showed up for the 2007 tribute to music impresario Chet Helms.
And the Indian summer is going to likely be washing the City by the
Bay in sunshine and moderate temperatures.

The event will be Oct. 25 at Speedway Meadows in the park. It's being
produced in association with Artie Kornfield, the original producer
for 1969's Woodstock in upstate New York.

The whole high-powered hootenanny should draw a who's who list of
prominent musicians from the area but also a large contingent of
guitarists in the audience. The event will be held in honor of Jimi
Hendrix, a Woodstock headliner, and plans are to gather 3,000 guitar
players together to form the world's largest guitar ensemble to play
"Purple Haze" in honor of the auspicious occasion.

.

Police will talk to FBI mole

Police will talk to FBI mole

http://www.sfexaminer.com/local/Police-will-talk-to-FBI-mole-43603487.html

By: Tamara Barak Aparton
Examiner Staff Writer
04/23/09

The former FBI informant who said he can tie 1960s radical William
Ayers to the bombing of a police station in The City will reportedly
be interviewed today by San Francisco police.

Park Police Station was bombed Feb. 16, 1970, killing Sgt. Brian
McDonnell and injuring eight other officers.

Larry Grathwohl, who infiltrated the radical group Weather
Underground and later testified in front of the U.S. Senate and
several grand juries, said a San Francisco police inspector asked to
interview him while he's in town.

Grathwohl has been involved in federal probes into the bombing, but
has never been interviewed by San Francisco police, he said.

"It's ironic that in 39 years, the San Francisco Police Department
and the prosecutor's office haven't asked to talk to me," Grathwohl said.

Police Sgt. Wilfred Williams said he could not confirm today's
questioning of Grathwohl or comment on the case since it's an open
investigation.

Grathwohl said Ayers told him that his wife, Bernadine Dohrn, planted
the bomb with Ayers' knowledge.

The former FBI informant came to The City to speak at a Thursday news
conference held by conservative writer and activist Cliff Kincaid,
who is spearheading an effort to indict Ayers and Dohrn in the bombing.

Ayers became a household name during Barack Obama's presidential
campaign, when Obama was criticized by opponents for serving on a
charitable board with Ayers.

News of the interview comes about a month after a possible link
between Ayers and the bombing was reported.

In March, the San Francisco Police Officers Association provided a
letter of support for Kincaid's effort. Union leaders still believe
Ayers was involved in the bombing, but they have distanced themselves
from Kincaid's organization, USA Survival. Union President Gary
Delagnes said he is only concerned with justice for McDonnell.

Ronald Martin, a former officer injured in the bombing, released a
statement this week calling for justice in the case. However, Martin
said he is not sure if the Weather Underground, Black Liberation Army
or both were responsible for the bombing.
--

tbarak@sfexaminer.com

.

Coachella’s Peaceful Power Seems Out of ‘Stock’

Coachella's Peaceful Power Seems Out of 'Stock'

http://www.cityonahillpress.com/2009/04/23/coachella%E2%80%99s-peaceful-power-seems-out-of-%E2%80%98stock%E2%80%99/

By Rod Bastanmehr & Rula Al-Nasrawi
City on a Hill Press Editor & Reporter
April 23, 2009

It all started in 1969.

Thousands upon thousands, and then a few thousand more, journeyed to
the town of Bethel, N.Y., sitting through hours of bumper-to-bumper
traffic, all for the love of music.

Billed simply as "Three Days of Peace & Music," the Woodstock Art and
Music Festival defined the 1960s counterculture, allowing for both
freedom of expression and freedom from authority.

Woodstock was the godfather of the music festival, with attendees
projecting their idea of how a Vietnam-focused world should be ­ not
filled with lies and war, but flooded in peace and devoid of
violence. A micro-nation where the minds were open, the people were
countless, the drugs were constant and the love was free.

In fact, Woodstock's three-day-long music, substance and sex binge
paved the way for modern events which include everything from
Lollapalooza to Bonnaroo, Bummershoot, and most recently, Coachella.

Three months after the disastrous Woodstock '99 ­ an attempt to
recreate the original event on its 30th anniversary ­ ended in
violence, fires and riots due to unhealthy environmental conditions,
Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival kicked off on Oct. 9 and 10.

This weekend marked the 10th annual Coachella festival, with acts
that included Paul McCartney, the Cure, Atmosphere and M.I.A. ­
lightyears away from Woodstock's Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and
Creedence Clearwater Revival.

And while the essence of the Woodstock formula was still present at
Coachella, many things have changed since that historic weekend in
1969. The peace that ran rampant throughout the Woodstock lifeline
was traded here for conveniently-placed ATM machines. Attendees that
once sought solace from a Vietnam-drenched reality were instead
replaced with twentysomethings desperately searching for a way to
charge their phones. And if the $6 pizza slices were any indication,
it's doubtful that even the love was free.

It's the simplicity that's gone missing. These festivals represent
more than just a three-day pass to a seemingly endless stream of live
performances. What was once a celebration of music and minimalism is
now simply a fashion show reminiscent of Halloween and a David Bowie
house party gone terribly wrong.

Hipsters and wannabe hippies whipped out their feathered headbands
and glittered fanny packs, stopping at nothing to stand out in a
crowd of thousands. The only problem was that in the process of
trying to look original, everyone looked exactly the same: confused,
clichéd, and hoping to get even a taste of the simplicity that ran
rampant nearly 40 years ago.

While tickets for Woodstock once cost $24 at the door, a single day
at Coachella cost $99 alone, resulting in a whopping $300 for all
three days. Counterculture chic, this is not.

With ticket prices like that, how could Coachella be anything but a
pretentious indiefest? Woodstock's essence was being comfortable in
what it was ­ whatever that was. It was beautiful without being
commercial, important without knowing, and original without trying.

It seems as if the music festival provides an accurate depiction of
our current generation: While the love of music still prevails, this
love has turned slightly sour and materialistic.

There were, however, kernels of something so much wiser within
certain moments of musical nirvana. Each night's headliners brought
with them an entirely different generational feel. Paul McCartney's
generous helping of Beatles classics helped make the heat-drenched
night feel like the 1960s. The Killers' pop-operatic stage show was
reminiscent of the Bowie-influenced glam rock of the 1970s. And the
final night was 1980 incarnate, when the Cure reminded us that
they're still the Cure.

But there was no meaning to any of the weekend's seemingly epic
events. Every once in a while, an artist would make the obligatory
"praise Obama" plug, lamenting the end of any possible Bush-bashing
lyricism, followed often by a single female asserting her
independence in a male-dominated media world. Note to all future
faux-feminist performers: threatening to "punch a man's balls off" is
neither comical nor anatomically correct. But those moments were few
and far between.

Coachella is an experience, and in essence can't be anything more
than what it is. Perhaps trying to emulate Woodstock is itself a
fool's errand; the beauty of events as seemingly important as those
lies in their inability to predict their own vitality. And maybe
we're just not in the place anymore to need an escape that also
serves as a message. With no draft and a president many adore, maybe
the days of message-heavy festivals are long gone.

Coachella may be more superficial than its politically-fueled
counterpart, but those three days represent something else now: they
represent the excess of experience, just not the willingness to matter.
--

Also, see:
Today's Hippies Are Doing It Wrong
http://glosslip.com/2009/04/24/todays-hippies-are-doing-it-wrong/

.

Rock music show pays tribute to hippie generation

Rock music show pays tribute to hippie generation

http://www.ledger-dispatch.com/life/lifeview.asp?c=256289

Friday, April 24, 2009
By Marcia Oxford

"Hippie Party," a rock music show guaranteed to elicit memories of an
entire generation, is a concept that came to musician John Covert in
1968 and which he is promoting to Amadorians who want to capture
those times of peace, love and psychedelic music. Also hippie clothes
and long hair in case you really want to immerse yourself in the past.

The first public show is set for Saturday, June 27, 7:30 p .m. at the
Jackson Elks Lodge. A second show is scheduled Sept, 26 at the Amador
Senior Center. Tickets, available in May, are $7 advance at Hein &
Co. Bookstore, Jackson; Mother Lode Music, Martell complex, and
Sutter Creek Ice Cream Emporium; tickets will be $10 at the door.

"I first thought of doing this when when we started recording my
Crystal Image band's original songs for our album," Covert said. "I'm
very proud of the cast and crew involved in the production. They're
like family. We invite guests to come in costume, which is a great
way to get involved. We're hoping that some old hippies like me will
bring their children to see what a beautiful time of peace and love it was."

Covert commented that the Hippie generation also danced at the
Fillmore Auditorium to music from such glittering stars as Joni
Mitchell, James Taylor, Crosby, Stills and Nash, Jefferson Airplane
and perhaps the most famous of all, the Grateful Dead.

Covert's Hippie Party group is a larger form of the Crystal Image
Band, CDs of which were recorded from 1968-1970. These CDs be sold at
the parties. Crystal Image music features from two to six musicians,
all of whom perform for the parties, including Covert, a
keyboardist/vocalist and songwriter. Adding to the familiar music
will be a dazzling light show and the musicians' Hippie costumes.

"I lived and loved the hippie movement and the musical and emotional
atmosphere, and I wanted others to see what it was like. I've
previewed the show with some folks and it's pretty wild," Covert
added. Visit www.soundclick.com/hippieparty or call 223-0902.

.

Marching Through History with César Chávez

[2 articles]

Marching Through History with César Chávez

http://breezejmu.org/2009/04/27/marching-through-history-with-cesar-chavez/

April 27, 2009
By Anna Young, Managing Editor

Part one of a two-part series on photojournalist Cathy Murphy's work
with United Farm Workers

HARRISONBURG, Va. ­ How many of us can say we have lived next door to
a revolutionary? How many of us were there during one of the most
monumental civil rights movements, documenting the struggles and
triumphs of a workers' revolution, as well as the personal life of
their legendary leader?

Cathy Murphy was a photojournalism student who lived next door to
César Chávez during the United Farm Workers strikes and the Thousand
Mile March in the mid-1970s in California.

"One of my goals in life was to make some kind of social justice
through my photography," Murphy said.

Chávez, a Mexican American farm worker and civil rights activist,
dedicated his life to helping disenfranchised and mistreated migrant
workers and fighting against child labor in the fields of California
until his death in 1993.

"César Chávez was a fabulous organizer, he was a grassroots
organizer," Murphy said. "He spent years doing that in a struggle to
get the farm workers union going, getting people involved, telling
people that by joining together, they would have power to make
changes for social justice."

The mountain community of "La Paz," the United Farm Workers
headquarters in Keene, Calif., boasted little more than several small
houses scattered along a dirt road and an old hospital habituated by
UFW volunteers. It was here that Murphy cultivated her relationship
with the Chávez family, as her and her young son were neighbors with
Chávez. Although Murphy rarely interrupted Chávez while he was at
home, she got to know his wife, Helen, and his son, Paul, his
daughter, Anna, and Anna's husband, Richard.

"I became close with the family and César trusted me and he invited
me to go with him to family functions and photograph his family," Murphy said.

Just as the grapes were ripening in the fields in the summer of 1975,
Chávez led the Thousand Mile March, a procession full of rallies and
protests that began at the U.S.-Mexico border and ended at the UFW
headquarters.

"César was walking the highways and going into communities all along
the way, telling workers in the field they finally had their right to
organize and to vote for union representation," Murphy said.

Murphy first photographed Chávez while she was a student at Brooks
Institute of Photography in Santa Barbara, Calif., working for a
local newspaper. "César was hard to see as he was short and
surrounded by security guards with two large German shepherds in
front of him," Murphy once wrote. "I moved quickly into the line, in
front of César and behind the dogs, and took my first photograph of
César while walking backwards on the highway. César looked me in the
eye but said nothing."

Because the photographer for UFW quit, Chávez asked if he could see
the photographs Murphy had taken for the Santa Barbara News and Review.

From that point on, Murphy worked as a photographer for the United
Farm Workers. She spent 58 days walking 20 miles of highway a day
through rural California, documenting the Thousand Mile March. After
the march, Murphy spent more than two years in the fields with
migrant workers of all ages, including young children, photographing
their living and working conditions.

The photographs of the farm workers, the Thousand Mile March and the
professional and personal sides of Chávez have made their way to JMU
and are now featured in the Prism Gallery in the lower level of
Festival through Friday.

Murphy's "March Through History with César Chávez" photo-documentary
exhibit contains more than 40 monotone photos taken between 1975 and 1976.

The exhibit "shows many sides of Chávez that many people may not be
familiar with," said Melanie Brimhall, the director of education for
the Madison Art Collection. "It particularly shows the personal side
of him: walking with children, with his dogs, doing yoga, the fact
that he followed Gandhi so closely… it shows the painful moments
where he was in thought agonizing over whether or not to cause a
strike knowing that people had already been shot and killed for
striking. When he would call a strike he knew he was sending these
people into harm's way and that must have weighed heavily on him and
you can see that in these photographs."

In addition to portraying the more personal moments of Chávez's life,
the collection also contains portraits of child laborers and migrant workers.

"It's one thing to read about the United Farm Workers and that
movement in textbooks but it's another thing to come and look at
these photographs," Brimhall said. "To see Lupita, the child who was
working in the fields, in her socks and holding a pesticide bucket
while she was gathering onions, and to see the man who fell from a
lemon tree and couldn't get medical care and lost a limb; the stories
and the pictures you see, the pain in their faces, add the personal
side of that whole movement."

Although there are more than 100 photographs in the entire
collection, the Prism Gallery can hold only around 40 frames. Murphy
had to prioritize which photos were most important for telling the
story of Chávez, the movement and the farm workers.

"There were a few that needed to be in there," said Murphy, speaking
of the photo of Chávez doing yoga. "It shows his commitment to
nonviolence: He became vegetarian, he quit smoking and drinking and
he practiced yoga."

Murphy came to JMU for the unveiling of the Prism Gallery exhibit on
March 31, Chávez's birthday. She spent a week in Harrisonburg, where
she made a number of appearances, including at two radio stations:
WMRA and the local Hispanic station, La Gran D.

Although she was slated to give only three presentations as a JMU
visiting scholar, Murphy gave 11 lectures around JMU and
Harrisonburg. "When she got here everyone kept clamoring for her to
speak with them," Brimhall said. "She carried on back-to-back
sessions just so she could talk to everyone who wanted to hear her."

Murphy's photo-documentary was brought to JMU because it fulfills the
need for education and diversity, for which the gallery was created,
according to Brimhall. "We were looking for exhibits on diverse
cultures and a broad view of humanity for the Prism Gallery," she
said. "It touched on so many different groups and programs on campus
and within our community." The gallery also reaches out to
Harrisonburg's Hispanic residents "to encourage them to come on
campus and to see our university," Brimhall said.

The exhibit was also brought to JMU because Chávez was recently added
to the third grade curriculum as part of Virginia public schools'
Standards of Learning requirements, and the gallery hosts more than
4,000 kindergarten through 12-grade students a year, according to
Kathryn Stevens, Madison Art Collection Director.

Brimhall added the exhibit also appeals to JMU's education majors,
photography and photojournalism students, as well as teachers and
professors. "Because he's Californian, a lot of people in Virginia
just haven't heard of César Chávez," Stevens said. "And of course a
lot of our teachers are younger so they don't even remember the '70s
and the protests."

Said Murphy: "It's a traveling exhibit, and the more places it is…
The more people who find out about Chávez, the better, particularly
in this area. I think there are a lot of students who have never
heard of César Chávez before."
--

Contact Anna Young at breezepress@gmail.com
--

View the slideshow here.
http://breezejmu.org/2009/04/27/slideshow-marching-through-history-with-cesar-chavez/

--------

Preserving Chavez's legacy

http://www.dailytexanonline.com/preserving-chavez-s-legacy-1.1637615

Council, president of United Farm Workers honor union founder's life, work

Priscilla Totiyapungprasert
Daily Texan Staff
Published: Wednesday, April 1, 2009

More than 40 years ago, Cesar Chavez founded the United Farm Workers
of America to bring farm workers' rights to the public and
legislative forefront. Despite improvement, some of the same problems
of the 1960s still persist today, said union president Arturo Rodriguez.

Rodriguez spoke Tuesday evening at the Texas Union Ballroom during a
Cesar Chavez Day celebration about immigration reform and the future
of farm workers' rights. The Mexican American Culture Committee
hosted the event.

"Undocumented workers make up 80 percent of the agricultural
workforce, or 1.6 million people," Rodriguez said. "They get taken
advantage of by people of power."

Earlier in the day, as part of the celebration, members of the Latino
Leadership Council stood in silence as part of the celebration on the
steps of UT Tower with their mouths covered by strips of red or white cloth.

Journalism senior Brenda Menchaca said Chavez struggled for not only
for farmers' rights but for other marginalized individuals as well.

"The covered mouths represent the voices of those who have been
traditionally silenced ­ people of color, farmers, women and people
of low-economic status," said Cindy Quintanilla, a spokeswoman for the council.

The percentage of undocumented workers living in the U.S. surged in
the 1970s during a time of high unemployment in Mexico and as farmers
left the agricultural field to work in casinos, restaurants and in
less labor-intensive jobs, Rodriguez said. Maquiladoras, or factories
along the border in such cities as Tijuana, Montemorelos and
Brownsville, were abandoned when companies looked to China for cheape labor.

This left growers needing inexpensive labor, Rodriguez said.

"[Undocumented workers] are always living in fear of being caught, so
they don't gripe or bring attention to themselves," Rodriguez said.
"They live in the shadows because they don't want people to know
they're there."

The AgJOBS legislation ­ which has not passed in Congress ­ proposes
providing undocumented workers the opportunity to participate in an
earned-legalization program. The program would grant seasonal farm
workers temporary legal status. After working for a period of time,
the workers could then apply for legal citizenship.

The Latino Leadership Council has assailed major fast food chains for
buying tomatoes supplied by businesses accused of abusing farm workers.

These businesses employ farmers, a majority of whom are
Mexican-American, to work in exchange for payment does not cover the
standard cost of living, said history senior Jay Guevara.

After speaking with President Barack Obama several times, Rodriguez
said the president has been supportive of the laborers' cause and
that Obama has appointed staff members who are also supportive,
including Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Secretary of Labor
Hilda Solis and Secretary of the Interior Ken Salazar.

He also applauded Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack for spending
time living with families in the Rio Grande Valley. Rodriguez said he
believes the Obama administration will take the necessary steps to
help improve farmers' lives.

Laura Gamez, the committee's president and a public relations junior,
said she hopes those who attended the event left with a better
understanding of misconceptions surrounding the conditions of
immigrant farm laborers.

"Farmers are one of the hardest working people in country, and they
get no respect," Rodriguez said. "They came here to improve their
standard of living, feed their children and follow the American Dream
­ they're not terrorists; they're not here to destruct our lifestyle."

At the event, Rodriguez told the story of Maria Vasquez Jimenez, a
17-year-old worker who traveled from Oaxaca, Mexico, to work on a
California farm. She collapsed after suffering from heat stress and
thirst. Two hours after the collapse, she was taken to the hospital
at her boyfriend's insistence. She died later that day.

The young woman was the first of six workers there, both documented
and undocumented, to die from heat stress, Rodriguez said.

Despite the abuses farm workers continue to suffer, Rodriguez said,
the U.S. has made strong improvements in labor reform since Chavez
founded the union.

Some of these improvements include enforcing minimum wage law,
establishing farm workers' rights to representation, forming a
pension plan for seasonal workers and creating the Robert F. Kennedy
medical plan to provide benefits to seasonal workers and their families.

"Chavez was a committed and passionate man who could speak to the
workers and then go speak to the governor," Rodriguez said. "But what
he enjoyed the most was sitting down with the workers and listening
to their concerns, their stories."

The protesters also voiced their stance on Texas' top 10 percent law,
which grants state-university admission to public high school
students who graduate in the top 10 percent of their classes.

Though UT President William Powers has said on previous occasions he
favors a top 10 percent admissions cap, Quintanilla said the cap
would be detrimental for minorities.
Affirmative action is a small factor in admissions, Quintanilla said.

"Without other actions in place, such as the top 10 percent rule,
underrepresented students will not have the same chance to get into a
tier-one university," Quintanilla said.

.

A memoir of growing up communist

'When Skateboards Will Be Free' by Saïd Sayrafiezadeh

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/la-ca-skateboard26-2009apr26,0,7737992.story

A memoir of growing up communist in the land of indulgence and plenty.

By Carolyn Kellogg
April 26, 2009

When SkateboardsWill Be Free
A Memoir of a Political Childhood
Saïd Sayrafiezadeh
Dial Press: 292 pp., $22

Let's start with the grapes. Sympathetic or not, most Californians
who are old enough remember the 1973 United Farm Workers grape
boycott. Just 4 years old and 3,000 miles away, Saïd Sayrafiezadeh
knew about it too: He wanted grapes, but he knew he couldn't have
them, and why.

What was different for Sayrafiezadeh was that his mother encouraged
him to eat grapes -- while standing in the grocery store -- because
then it was stealing. Stealing from the store's owners, a part of the
corrupt capitalist system exploiting César Chávez's farmworkers, was
entirely OK.

Not exactly your standard "No Grapes" spiel. Sayrafiezadeh grew up
inside a small, underacknowledged American subculture, the group
officially known as the Socialist Workers Party.

More plainly, his parents were communists.

Yet politics is remarkably absent from his memoir "When Skateboards
Will Be Free." Sayrafiezadeh places the reader inside his red bubble:
It was normal to fall asleep on folding chairs at meetings, to be
subject to a parade of only semi-trustworthy comrades, to haul boxes
of the Militant newspaper from one unfortunate apartment to the next.

Sayrafiezadeh was the youngest of three children born to a
mathematics graduate student from Iran and a Jewish girl from New
York majoring in English literature. When Sayrafiezadeh was very
young, his father took off; the older siblings joined him, leaving
Sayrafiezadeh with his mother. When Sayrafiezadeh was 7, his mother
moved them from New York to Pittsburgh. She had family there: Her
brother, Mark Harris, wrote the book "Bang the Drum Slowly."

Sayrafiezadeh was deeply aware of the contrast between his own wants
and his uncle's upper-middle-class world. "I blamed them for what I
did not have," he writes, exemplified by "an extraordinary painting .
. . of a partially unwrapped chocolate bar. When I passed this
chocolate bar hanging in the landing of the staircase, I wanted to
stick my hand right into it and grab a piece and stuff it into my
mouth and face the consequences."

Despite this nearby affluence, his mother moved them into awful,
cramped apartments, in neighborhoods with empty lots and abandoned
refrigerators. The two were desperately poor: At one point his
mother, gloveless, wrapped her fingers in tape.

In spite of it all, the author managed to be a normal kid who made
friends, tidied his room, stole comic books and revered his absent
father. If he felt a burning class resentment, he didn't know to
label it as such -- he was unaware of his difference. This changed,
as it does for most kids, as adolescence loomed. But his difference
was hastened by world events. He was 10, carrying an Iranian name,
when the hostages were taken in 1979.

Suddenly his classmates knew about Iran -- that it was bad -- and
Sayrafiezadeh felt a new tension: "The desire to set the record
straight was replaced by a desire to leave well enough alone." But
he'd lived in a world in which leaders pontificated and supporters
clapped. "The hostages are spies and should be tried for the Iranian
people," he blurted, hearing the words as if spoken by someone else.
"They'll deserve whatever they get." He was instantly an outcast.

It was the first time he'd faced the boundaries of the belief system
in which he was raised. If there is a moment when this elegant story
is failed by its lack of critical analysis, it's here. He must have
known that these words would set him apart. But as he utters these
phrases was he merely a parrot? Was he trying to speak truth to
unbelievers? Was he trying to be like his father? Mahmoud
Sayrafiezadeh abandoned his son, but never the Party. He was an
important SWP figure, even running for president of
post-revolutionary Iran. His son inherited his ideology -- when the
revolution came, his mother promised him, skateboards would be free.

Later, living in Manhattan and working for Martha Stewart,
Sayrafiezadeh tries to answer his girlfriend's questions about being
a communist: "Flaring inside me was the impulse to respond with
generalizations, or various patched-together facts. . . . Eventually
I stopped trying to answer, and muttered to myself, 'I guess I don't
really know what I'm talking about,' and she had responded, more
surprised than accusatory, 'Yes, it sounds like you don't.' "

We are all born into belief systems, but most of us are members of
one so dominant it seems given. Sayrafiezadeh's experience shows us
more than just the tired rhetoric of the Socialist Workers Party --
it reveals how hard it is for any of us to see the boundaries of the
ideology we inherit.
--

Kellogg is lead blogger for Jacket Copy.
carolyn.kellogg@latimes.com

.

Grateful Dead Ahead of its time

Grateful Dead Ahead of its time

http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/music/chi-tc-arts-the-dead-0422-0426_qapr26,0,3176704.story

Band served as an early model for branding

By Greg Kot | Tribune Newspapers critic
April 26, 2009

The Grateful Dead won't die, in part because its fans -- some of
which now work in the White House -- won't let it.

The band broke up in 1995 when Jerry Garcia, one of the greatest
guitarists of his generation and the Papa Bear of Dead-dom, succumbed
to a lifetime of excess. Infighting among the survivors made future
collaborations highly unlikely. "It's hard to say goodbye, it's hard
to let go, but the page got turned for us," drummer Mickey Hart told
the Tribune a year after the guitarist's death.

But the Dead never went away, sustained by hundreds of archival
recordings and a community of fans that stretch into every sector of
society -- including the administration of President Barack Obama.
Two of the president's senior advisers, David Axelrod and Pete Rouse,
as well as deputy chief of staff Jim Messina count themselves among
the legion of Deadheads.

The Obama team was instrumental in the band's latest comeback as the
Dead (no longer "Grateful," alas). The estranged band members were
invited to play an Obama rally in Pennsylvania in October, and things
went so well that the core surviving members -- guitarist Bob Weir,
bassist Phil Lesh, drummers Hart and Bill Kreutzmann -- decided to
keep rolling. They returned to play the Inaugural Ball Jan. 20 in
Washington, and this month embarked on a 23-date tour that includes
concerts May 4-5 at the Allstate Arena. The touring lineup also
includes singer-guitarist Warren Haynes (of Gov't Mule and the Allman
Brothers) and keyboardist Jeff Chimenti (of Weir's band RatDog).

After Garcia died, the survivors feuded over everything from digital
bootlegging of the band's archives to -- what else? -- money. A
couple of reunions during the last decade, first billed as the Other
Ones and then as the Dead, were hits at the box office (a 2003-04
tour raked in $18 million), but did little to quell personal
tensions. Now, thanks in part to Obama's efforts, the band is once
again hitting the road and tentatively talking about writing new songs.

It remains to be seen if the latest reunion will be about more than
just another payday. But what is indisputable is that the Grateful
Dead was a band that both embodied its time (the band is practically
synonymous with the hippie culture and the psychedelic music that
flourished around it in the '60s) and was ahead of it. Long before
the Internet was a factor in the way music was made, distributed and
marketed, the Dead presaged its impact and became a model for how
bands could thrive in a digital age.

In 1994, technology expert Esther Dyson suggested that the ease with
which digital content could be copied and distributed would require a
new economic model for copyright-holders. They would have to
"distribute intellectual property free in order to sell services and
relationships."

No band was better at selling "services and relationships" to its
fans than the Grateful Dead, and no band understood better that free
distribution of its music could be a pathway to building a bigger,
more loyal audience that would reward the band's trust.

Here's how the Dead anticipated the future we now live in during its
1965-95 life span:

Free music: The Dead was among the first bands to encourage its fans
to tape its concerts and distribute tapes to their fellow Dead-heads
worldwide. A specially designated "tapers section" was set up at each
show near the sound board, and fans brought increasingly
sophisticated gear to document nearly every one of the Dead's
2,000-plus concerts.

Make the product unique: Garcia expressed disdain for the recording
studio countless times -- heresy in an era where the studio album
became the centerpiece of music culture. Garcia insisted that live
performance was the lifeblood of his band's music, and created a
template for the jam-band culture. The Dead's studio recordings
slowed to a trickle as the decades passed. Instead, the band focused
on turning its shows into epic, four-hour must-see events for its
followers. The Dead turned touring into an art form, a combination of
high-tech ingenuity and grass-roots communication. The shows were
infamous for their ups and downs, the possibility that the band could
fail, but the sense of improvisation and spontaneity became an
increasingly alluring alternative, especially in the highly
choreographed MTV era. Fans paid to see multiple shows on the same
tour, knowing that each would be one-of-a-kind.

Who needs record companies? Though the Dead worked with major labels
throughout its career, the labels had very little to do with the
band's inner workings. The Dead's operation was essentially
self-contained, a network of friends and associates from the San
Francisco area who assumed various jobs within what would become a
highly successful corporation, Grateful Dead Productions. The band's
mail-order service and later Web site, deadnet.com, became a
gathering place for the Dead's worldwide fan base and sustained the
band's legacy long after Garcia's death.

Sell direct to fans: The Dead released dozens of recordings from a
bottomless stash of archives direct to fans, presaging the
marketplace experiments of Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails. The Dead
released only 13 studio albums in its 30-year lifetime. That
relatively paltry number is dwarfed by dozens of live releases,
including 36 volumes of the "Dick's Picks" archival series alone. The
series was named after archivist Dick Latvala, who ascended from the
ranks of the taper's section in the '70s to become one of the band's
most trusted lieutenants. These releases, which were promoted only
through the band's mail-order service and (later) Internet site, in
many cases exceeded the quality of the band's major-label recordings.

The band as brand: The Dead dealt not just in T-shirts and hats, but
in flip-flops and golf gloves. Frisbees, mugs, bar stools and
license-plate frames. Key chains, a board game and socks. Magnets,
patches and pins. Baby-clothes "onesies," hoodies and a miniature
pyramid. The band also spawned a cottage industry of books, DVDs and
even a syndicated radio show ("The Grateful Dead Hour"). The Dead
became synonymous not just with a style of a music or a certain era,
but also with a way of life that transcended generations.

Remix, remake, reinvent: Were the Dead the first modern rock band?
Like all artists, the Dead borrowed freely from the music and
traditions that preceded them. But a strong case could be made that
no band worked with a wider palette or blended the colors more
audaciously. By constantly reinventing itself through its music, the
band remained relevant across the decades. Under the rubric of
"American music," the Dead mixed blues, country, folk, early rock 'n'
roll, jazz, experimental and even classical music into a fluid
framework built not only on deep knowledge of the past but a
mischievous desire to reshape it.

The band improvised its way through thousands of shows, and suggested
that songs were not immutable artifacts, but organic entities that
could be bent, folded and occasionally mutilated to suit the needs of
the moment. In this respect, they anticipated the mix-and-match
styles that would surface and flourish in the last few decades, from
the cut-and-paste approach of hip-hop and collage artists such as
Girl Talk, to the recombinant rock of Beck and the Flaming Lips. John
Oswald's 1995 studio manipulation of multiple incarnations of the
Dead's epic song "Dark Star" on the album "Grayfolded" is among the
first widely recognized mash-ups.
--

greg@gregkot.com

.