Tracy Thomas, Our Girl from Hollywood
So it never rains in sunny California? Then, what, pray tell, is that wet stuff dripping down the window? The neighbors don’t have any lawn to water, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just make some hot tea and sit down and WRITE, Trace…
I would like to take a few moments here to rave about JEFFERSON AIRPLANE: Thank you. I have been raving about Jefferson Airplane for about a year now, ever since I managed to weasel my way into their recording sessions in Los Angeles, when they were all sort of small and just barely long-haired and very hip and very new to Hollywoodland. I was one of the half-dozen people in LA to sport a “Jefferson Airplane Loves You” button back in the days when all of the Bay Area was hysterical over them, but no one down here had done anything but laugh over the name.
Since then they have risen in stature and hair-length. They recorded their third album this month at good old RCA, complete with new (and fantastic) drummer, Spencer Dryden (isn’t that a groovy name?) and new lead girl singer (equally fantastic) Grace Slick, who is, unfortunately, also extremely pretty and nice to boot (I didn’t actually try it myself, but…).
The Airplane have not heard about the new short hair thing nor the mustache-beard syndrome, but who would want to tell them? Although their fame is not national yet, they are six of the best musician-singer-songwriter-people in America. My idea of heaven is to sit and listen to them sing/play over RCA’S fantastic loud speakers. (Are you listenig [sic] up there?)
JA were not the only groovy people to visit us here. From New York came SMOKEY (sigh) AND HIS SISTER, Viki. Little Smokey (good grief, he’s as old as you are, Tracy) looks like a miniature Dylan and writes just as well, if not better. Viki’s a short, blonde, Cher-voiced girl. We spent not-as-long-as-we-wanted discussing everything from the YOUNGBLOODS to not being able to park anywhere in San Francisco. Somewhere along the line we decided that we loved SAHS.
NOTE TO NEIL: What is the social significance of sitting on trash cans?
NOTE TO SMOKEY AND VIKI: Did you get to the beach? Did you get the flowers?
NOTE TO PETER: I sold the picks you left at the house for $5 a piece. Thanks.
The West Coast Cheetah opened this month at the Santa Monica pier, which takes forever to get to. Opening night was a large economy size DRAG, full of Beverly Hills starlets in their silver mini-skirts and plastic smiles. However, the first two Sunday concerts at the club featuring first ERIC BURDON AND THE ANIMALS, then JEFFERSON AIRPLANE and the DOORS, were much more enjoyable and the crowd was a bit more hip. The place has tin foil walls, which make for interesting lighting effects, but ruin the accoustics, say the musicians. In the center of the ceiling is an asterisk-shaped strobe light in various colors, which flashes in time and colors to the music. Sometimes, in back of the performers in a wall for the “Psychdelic light show,” which doesn’t quite come off if you’ve ever seen an authentic one at the Fillmore in San Fransisco.
You’re probably wondering when I’m going to mention the BUFFALO SPRINGFIELD. All I can say is that you had to go up north if you wanted to see them perform.
Our venerable photog-columnist RIC KLEIN, whose column you may notice is missing this month, has an excellent reason for his failure to appear—he’s off to the Carribean with his new wife. The Monkee set isn’t quite the same without his engaging frown. MICKY, best friend that he is, was Best Man. (Isn’t he always one of the best men?).
Speaking of PAUL MCCARTNEY, he flew across the Ocean Blue to San Francisco (where it’s all happening, you’d best believe) to see girl friend (and fellow redhead) JANE ASHER with the Old Bristol Rep Company. He also looked up Jeff Air and spent an evening with their bass player (one of the best in the world) Jack Casady (spellt [sic] correctly, you’ll note, Mr. Casady, uh Kassidie?) playing some of the new BEATLE songs for him and complimenting JA.
Meanwhile Eric Burdon was grooving with lead singer Marty Balin (who is nice to groove with if you should get the chance). “We just talked about ‘things,’” says Marty mysteriously.
JA brought SF’s second most popular group, the GRATEFUL DEAD, down with them to open the newest Hollywood club, the Kaleidoscope. The Dead are very blues-oriented and pretty great in general. They have an album out on Warner Bros., in case you should want to listen.
What with “Action” going off the air, quite a few talented people are out hunting for jobs. THE HARD TIMES are investigating a TV series of their own and former FLIP columnist and Action dancer LESLEY is thinking about a singing career. We hope to see more of all the ACTION gang in the future.
One of the fab new groups that Clancy and I have discovered (oh, by the way, he’s very good friends with JA, as the Quick Silver Messenger Service, for whom Clancy used to play bass, is a prominent SF group as well) at a local folk nitery’s hoot nite is the LEWIS AND CLARK EXPEDITION. You can read more about their connection with the MONKEES in my story on page 28. Let it suffice to say that they have a new, vigorous, heavily country Western, energetic (and) talented approach to pop music.
Speaking of the Seeds…
Until next month…
Love,
Tracy
