Inside The LC: The Strange but Mostly True Story of Laurel Canyon and the Birth of the Hippie Generation Part XV


by David McGowan, The Center for an Informed America, June 6, 2009.
Published here: Saturday June 6, 2009 at 10:46 AM

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The Byrds were the very first folk-rock band to take flight, and the one that achieved the greatest fame, but to many discerning ears, Laurel Canyon’s other folk-rock powerhouse, the Buffalo Springfield, was the more talented band.
In the literature chronicling the 1960s music scene, few stories are repeated more frequently than the legend surrounding the formation of what would later be regarded as perhaps the first ‘supergroup.’ All such accounts unquestioningly retell the story as though it were the gospel truth, seemingly oblivious to the improbability of virtually every aspect of the legend. And curiously, virtually every version of the story contains some form of the word “serendipity,” as though everyone has been copying off the same kid’s homework.
As the story goes, Stephen Stills and Richie Furay, formerly of the Au Go-Go Singers, had recently transplanted themselves to Los Angeles after the breakup of the manufactured folkie group. Stills had been the first to relocate, in August of 1965. Furay flew out to join him in February 1966, after spending a little time working at defense giant Pratt & Whitney, and the two set their sights on putting together a folk-rock band.
Meanwhile, up in Toronto, Neil Young and Bruce Palmer were playing in a band known as the Mynah Birds – a band fronted by an AWOL Navy man known as Ricky James Matthews, who would later morph into funkmeister/torturer/rapist Rick James, but whose real name was James Ambrose Johnson, Jr.. The Mynah Birds broke up in March of 1965, just after authorities came calling on Matthews and tossed him in the Brooklyn Brig. Now in search of a new band, Young made the curious decision to head out to LA, for no better reason than that he had what Palmer described as “a hunch, a feeling that … Stephen Stills was in LA.”
Of course, Young had no clue if Stills was in fact there, nor did he know anyone else in LA. And you would think that he would have realized that, even if Stills was there, there was virtually no chance of finding some random person in a city of millions, especially when the person doing the searching had no idea how to get around the city. But no matter. Neil had a calling, so he jumped into an old hearse, of all things, recruited Palmer to ride shotgun, and the two set off on the lengthy trek to Los Angeles.
They arrived, the legend tells us, on April 1, 1966 – April Fool’s Day, appropriately enough – and began the search for Stills. Several days of searching yielded no results, however, and on the afternoon of April 6, the frustrated pair decided to head off to San Francisco in the hopes that maybe they would have better luck finding Stephen there. Perhaps they were going to go on a tour of all the big cities in America, in the hopes that somewhere along the way they might find Stephen Stills.
But as fate would have it, just as they were about to head out of town, Stephen Stills found them. As Barney Hoskyns tells the story in his Hotel California, “Early in April 1966, Stills and Richie Furay were stuck in a Sunset Strip traffic jam in Barry Friedman’s Bentley. As they sat in the car, Stephen spotted a 1953 Pontiac hearse with Ontario plates on the other side of the street. ‘I’ll be damned if that ain’t Neil Young,’ Stills said. Friedman executed an illegal U-turn and pulled up behind the hearse. One of rock’s great serendipities had just occurred. Young, a lanky Canadian, had just driven all the way from Detroit in the company of bassist Bruce Palmer. They’d caught the bug that was drawing hundreds of other pop wannabes to the West Coast.”
The pair had actually driven out from Toronto, not Detroit, and the hearse was a 1959 model by most accounts, and Stills and Furay were in a van rather than a Bentley, but such inconsistencies are typical of all Hollywood legends. In any event, John Einarson, in For What It’s Worth, supplies a somewhat longer, and more hyperbole-filled, version of the legend: “What transpired next is no longer considered simply a chance encounter. Transcending mere fact, the events of the next few minutes have taken on mythic proportions to become, in the annals of popular culture, legendary. More than pure luck, coincidence or serendipity, at that very moment the planets aligned, stars crossed, everyone’s karma turned positive, divine intervention interceded, the hand of fate revealed itself – whatever you subscribe to in order to explain the unexplained. Though each of the five participants in that moment in time tell it slightly differently, the fact remains that the occupants of the white van, individually or collectively, depending on who’s retelling it, noticed the black hearse with the foreign plate heading the other direction. Once the light of recognition came on, the van hastily pulled an illegal, and likely difficult in rush hour, U-turn, maneuvering its way through the line of northbound cars, horn honking frantically all the while, to pull up behind the hearse. One of the passengers leapt out, ran up and pounded on the driver’s side window of the strange vehicle, yelling to the startled travelers inside who had taken no notice of the blaring car horn directly behind them. ‘Hey Neil, it’s me, Steve Stills! Pull over, man!’ The drivers of the two vehicles managed to find curb space or a vacant store parking lot, again depending on whose version is being related, and the five piled out to embrace and introduce one another … On April 6, 1966, in that late afternoon line of traffic, the course of popular music was altered forever.”
Anyone who actually lives and drives in LA likely knows that “difficult” is not really the word to describe the feasibility of making an impromptu U-turn in rush hour traffic on the Sunset Strip; the correct word would be “impossible,” which is the same word that accurately describes the likelihood of that van “maneuvering its way through the line of northbound cars,” or of it finding “curb space” on Sunset Boulevard. But let’s just play along and assume that Neil Young and Stephen Stills, each of whom, for some reason, had been dreaming about forming a band with the other, had a random, chance encounter on Sunset Boulevard. In that brief moment in time, a band was formed – or at least 4/5 of a band.
Retiring to the home of Barry Friedman, who would later legally change his name to Frazier Mohawk, the quartet of musicians quickly decided that their newly-formed band would only perform original material. With no less than three singer/songwriter/guitarists on board (Furay, Young and Stills), along with a bass player (Bruce Palmer), all that was needed was a drummer. Three days later, on April 9, 1966, they acquired one, in the form of Dewey Martin, formerly with the Dillards.
The Dillards, as it turns out, had just decided to go back to their acoustic bluegrass roots, so they no longer needed a drummer. They also apparently had no further need for a whole bunch of new electric instruments and stacks of amplifiers, so Dewey, according to legend, brought all of that with him. Because the Dillards, you know, were just going to throw it all away anyway. So now, with the stars all properly aligned, the band was not only complete but they each had shiny new electric instruments to play – and it all had magically come together in just 72 hours.
There was still much work to be done, of course. For one thing, they all had to learn to play those shiny new electric instruments. And they all had to learn to play together as a band. And they had to build up a repertoire of original songs. And they had to rehearse and polish those songs. But not to worry; they had, as we’ll see, at least a couple of hours to work on each of those things.
Unlike, say, the Byrds, the members of the Buffalo Springfield were, by all accounts, talented musicians from the outset. Stills and Young were both skilled lead guitarists and songwriters, though Young’s vocals were, to be sure, an acquired taste. Furay was an accomplished rhythm guitarist and songwriter, as well as being the group’s best lead vocalist. Bruce Palmer was a respected bass player who, shockingly, actually had experience playing the instrument. And Dewey Martin, several years older than the rest of the crew, had drummed for such rock and country legends as the Everly Brothers, Charlie Rich, Roy Orbison, Patsy Cline, and Carl Perkins.
None of that, however, explains the absurdly meteoric rise of the Buffalo Springfield. On April 11, 1966, just five days after the quartet had purportedly first met, and just two days after they had added a drummer and instruments, the band played its first club date at one of Hollywood’s most prestigious venues: the Troubadour. Four days later, on April 15, they played the first of six dates around the southland opening for the hottest band on the Strip: the Byrds. That mini-tour was followed almost immediately by a six-week stand at the hottest club on the Strip, the Whisky. That gig wrapped up on June 20, 1966.
A month later, on July 25, the band landed the opening slot on the most anticipated concert of the year – the Rolling Stones show at the Hollywood Bowl, sponsored by local radio station KHJ. The station, by the way, had just been launched the previous year, in May of 1965, just a few weeks after the Byrds had taken the world by storm with the release of Mr. Tambourine Man and sparked a folk-rock revolution. Just as new clubs had magically appeared along the Sunset Strip in anticipation of the about-to-explode music scene, so too did a radio station magically appear to promote those new clubs and the artists filling them. Such things tend to happen, as we know, rather, uhmm, serendipitously.
Three days after the Stones concert at the Bowl, Buffalo Springfield released its first single, the Neil Young-penned Nowadays Clancy Can’t Even Sing, which failed to connect with the record-buying public. Several months later, the band would release what was to be its only hit single, and what would become the most recognizable ‘protest’ song of the 1960s. But before we get to that, let’s start back at the beginning … actually, let’s veer off on a tangent first, and then start back at the beginning.
As was duly noted in the last installment of this series, the law enforcement community had ample opportunity to silence the muses of the 1960s counterculture. That the state consistently chose not to utilize that power says much about the legitimacy of that counterculture. For if these iconic figures posed a demonstrable threat to the status quo, then why would they not have been silenced? Why, for example, were three members of the Buffalo Springfield – Neil Young, Richie Furay and Jim Messina, along with Eric Clapton, Furay’s wife, the band’s road manager, and nine others – arrested in a drug bust at a Topanga Canyon home, only to then walk away as if nothing had happened? Why was this case, and so many others like it, not aggressively prosecuted?
The state had other means to silence young critics, of course, one of the best being the military draft. As Richie Unterberger noted in Turn! Turn! Turn!, “Most folk rockers (if they were male), like their audience, were of draft age.” But curiously enough, “Very, very few had their careers interrupted by the draft.” Actually, Unterberger appears to just be playing it safe with the “very, very few” wording; after reading through both of Unterberger’s books and numerous other tomes covering similar ground, I have yet to read about any folk rocker whose career was affected by the draft in the 1960s.
What you will find in the literature are numerous mentions of various people receiving their draft notices, but those are invariably followed by amusing anecdotes about how said people beat the draft board by pretending to be gay or crazy. Of course, if it were really that easy to fool the draft board, then Uncle Sam probably wouldn’t have been able to come up with all those bodies to send over to Vietnam.
Hundreds of thousands of young men from all across the country were swept up and fed into the war machine, but not one of the musical icons of the Woodstock generation was among them. How could that be? Should we just consider that to be another one of those great serendipities? Was it mere luck that kept all the Laurel Canyon stars out of jail and out of the military during the turbulent decade that was the 1960s?
Not likely. The reality is that ‘The Establishment,’ as it was known in those days, had the power to prevent the musical icons of the 1960s from ever becoming the megastars that they became. The state, aka corporate America, could quite easily have prevented the entire countercultural movement from ever really getting off the ground – because then, as now, the state controlled the channels of communication.
A real grass-roots cultural revolution would probably have involved a bunch of starving musicians barely scratching out a living playing tiny coffee shops in the hopes of maybe someday landing a record deal with some tiny, local independent label and then, just maybe, if they got really lucky, getting a little airplay on some obscure college radio stations. But that’s not how the ‘60s folk-rock ‘revolution’ played out. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
As Unterberger duly notes in his expansive, two-volume review of the folk-rock movement, “much folk-rock was recorded and issued by huge corporations, and broadcast over radio and television stations owned for the most part by the same or similar pillars of the establishment.” Right from the start, in fact, it was the largest record labels leading the folk-rock charge. The very first of the folk-rock bands, the Byrds, signed with Columbia Records – whose name, in case you were wondering, is derived from a little place known as the District of Columbia, where the label was founded and headquartered some 120 years ago.
Laurel Canyon’s other folk-rock powerhouse, the Buffalo Springfield – the band that was supposed to be as big as the Byrds and the Beatles and the Beach Boys – signed with Atlantic Records. Atlantic had been founded in 1947 by Ahmet Ertegun and dentist/investor Herb Abramson. Born in Istanbul, Turkey in 1923, the year the Turk Republic was established, Ahmet was the son, and the grandson, of career diplomats/civil servants. His father was named the first Turkish representative to the League of Nations in 1925 and thereafter served as the Turk Republic’s ambassador to Switzerland, France, and England. In 1935, he was named the first Turkish ambassador to the United States and he promptly relocated the family to – where else? – Washington, DC.
From about the age of twelve, Ahmet grew up along DC’s Embassy Row, attending elite private schools with the sons and daughters of senators, congressmen, and spooks. In 1947, three years after his father died, Ertegun founded Atlantic Records. At first, the label was home to jazz and R&B artists, including Ray Charles, the company’s first big star. In the late 1950s, Ertegun took on his first assistant: a guy by the name of Phil Spector, who, rumor has it, was recently convicted of blowing a hole in Lana Clarkson’s head. Atlantic soon shifted focus and rock luminaries like Eric Clapton, Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones would later join the label’s stable of talent.
It would appear then that the two record labels that signed and launched Laurel Canyon’s first two folk-rock bands were not only major record labels, they also just happened to be corporate entities that had deep ties to the nation’s capitol and power center.
It was the major record labels, not upstart independents, that signed Laurel Canyon’s newly-formed bands. It was the major labels that provided them with instruments and amplifiers. It was the major labels that provided them with studio time and session musicians. It was the major labels that recorded, mixed and arranged their albums. It was the major labels that released and then heavily promoted those albums. And so as not to be left out, the corporate titans of all three branches of the mainstream media – print, radio and television – did their part to help out the titans of the record industry.
Unterberger notes that “AM radio (and sometimes prime-time network television) would act as a primary conduit for this countercultural expression.” Conservative, corporate-controlled AM stations across the country almost immediately began giving serious airplay to the new sounds coming out of Southern California, and network television gave the rising stars unprecedented coverage and exposure: “prime-time variety hours were much more likely to showcase rock acts than they would be in subsequent decades. New releases by the Byrds were often accompanied by large ads in trade magazines that simultaneously plugged the records and upcoming TV appearances.”
The boys in the Buffalo Springfield, for example, managed to find themselves appearing as guests on an impressive array of network television shows, including American Bandstand, The Smothers Brothers Show, Shebang, the Della Reese Show, the Go Show, the Andy Williams Show, Hollywood Palace, Where the Action Is, Joey Bishop’s late night show, and a local program known as Boss City. They also made guest appearances, curiously enough, on primetime hits like Mannix and The Girl From Uncle.
The print media did its part as well to raise awareness of the new music/countercultural scene. In September 1965, the nation’s premier newsweeklies, Time and Newsweek, “ran virtually simultaneous stories on the folk-rock craze,” just months after the first folk-rock release, the Byrd’s Mr. Tambourine Man, had climbed to the top of the charts. The country’s biggest daily newspapers chimed in as well, providing an inordinate amount of coverage of the emerging scene. By the end of 1967, the movement had its very own publication, Rolling Stone magazine. Initially designed to look as though it were a product of the underground press, it was, without question, very much a corporate mouthpiece.
Another avenue of the print media provided the scene with considerable exposure as well; as Einarson notes, many of the Laurel Canyon stars, particularly members of the Buffalo Springfield and the Monkees, were “the darlings of the California teen magazines,” including Teenset, Teen Screen, and Tiger Beat.
As the story is usually told, the 1960s countercultural movement posed a rather serious threat to the status quo. But if that were truly the case, then why was it the “pillars of the establishment,” to use Unterberger’s words, that launched the movement to begin with? Why was it ‘the man’ that signed and recorded these artists? And that heavily promoted them on the radio, on television, and in print? And that set them up with their very own radio station and their very own publication? And insured that new clubs sprung up like mushrooms along Sunset Boulevard so that all the new bands would have venues to play?
There are some readers, no doubt, who will say that this was simply a case of corporate America doing what it does so well: making a profit, off of anything and everything. Blinded by greed, the naysayers will claim, the corporate titans inadvertently created a monster. “Move along now folks, there’s nothing more to see here …”
The question that is begged by that explanation, however, is why, after it had become abundantly clear that a monster had allegedly been created, was nothing done to stop the growth of that monster? Why did the state not utilize its law enforcement and criminal justice powers to silence some of the most prominent countercultural voices? And why did the draft board – in every known case, without exception – allow those same voices to skip out on their military service?
It’s not as if the state would have had to resort to heavy-handed measures to silence these allegedly troublesome voices. Being that the vast majority of them were draft-age males who were openly using and/or advocating the use of illegal substances, they were practically begging for the powers-that-be to take action. And yet that never happened.
And now, while you ponder all of that, I’ll circle back around and tell the Buffalo Springfield story from the beginning, starting in 1945 when Stephen Arthur Stills was born to William and Talitha Stills. As John Einarson recounts in For What It’s Worth, Stephen’s “roots are firmly planted in Southern soil. His family traces its history back to the plantations of the rural antebellum South. After the Union armies laid waste to much of the Southern farm economy, the family relocated to Illinois.”
Einarson describes William Stills as “somewhat of a soldier of fortune, an engineer, builder, and dreamer who frequently uprooted the family to follow his dreams and schemes.” That is, I suppose, as good a definition as any for what he actually appears to have been: a military intelligence operative who was frequently on assignment in Central America. Stephen’s childhood was spent in Illinois, Texas, Louisiana, Florida, and various parts of Central America, including Costa Rica, El Salvador and the Panama Canal Zone.
At a fairly young age, he attended the Admiral Farragut Military Academy in St. Petersburg, Florida. In later years, his authoritarian manner and military bearing would earn him the nickname “The Sarge.” He joined his first band, the Radars, as a drummer. In his next band, the Continentals, he played the guitar, alongside another young guitarist named Don Felder, who would later turn up in Laurel Canyon as a member of the Eagles, but we’ll get to that later.
According to Einarson, “An unfortunate incident with the administration at his Tampa Bay high school resulted in Stephen’s dismissal in 1961, after which he joined his wayward family then settled in Costa Rica.” What that “unfortunate incident” may have been has been left to the reader’s imagination. In any event, Stephen’s next few years are rather murky. Some reports have him graduating from a high school in the Panama Canal Zone. Others have him shuffling back and forth between Florida and Central America. Stills himself has at times claimed that he served a stint in Vietnam. Whatever the case, in March of 1964 he surfaced in New Orleans with his sights set on a career in music.
By the summer of 1964, he had drifted to New York’s Greenwich Village, where he became fast friends with folkie Peter Torkelson, who was, like so many others in this story, a child of Washington, DC. The two played together briefly as a duo before Torkelson “migrated to Connecticut then Venezuela.” Nothing unusual about that, I suppose. Torkelson would soon show up in Laurel Canyon, as Monkee Peter Tork. Stills would also audition for the show, but his bad teeth and thinning hair would render him unfit for a leading role on prime-time TV.
In July 1964, Stills found work as one of the nine members of the Au Go-Go Singers, the newly-formed house band for New York’s famed Café Au Go-Go. Singing alongside of Stills was a young Richie Furay, the son of a pharmacist who had run a family drugstore in Yellow Springs, Ohio. Furay’s father died when Richie was just thirteen, as tends to happen from time to time in this story.
By November 1964, the Au Go-Go Singers already had an album out. But trouble soon arose, due primarily to the fact that the band was under contract to Morris Levy, a known organized-crime figure who would soon be indicted on an array of criminal charges. The band soon broke up and Furay headed off to Connecticut where a cousin got him a job at Pratt & Whitney. While working there, he took a little time off to audition for a slot in the Chad Mitchell Trio, but he was beat out by a military brat from Roswell named John Deutschendorf, later to become John Denver.
Stephen Stills, meanwhile, hung out in New York for a while longer before heeding the call of the Pied Piper and heading out to LA in August of 1965. That was the summer, according to Einarson, that “the epicenter of American rock’n’roll shifted coasts, Los Angeles replacing New York as the power base of the music industry.”
Richie Furay apparently soon found himself missing Stills but didn’t know how to reach his former bandmate, so he sent a letter to Stills’ dad in El Salvador, according to legend, and William Stills forwarded the message to Stephen. And what exactly, you may be wondering, was the elder Stills doing in El Salvador circa 1965/66? Details aren’t readily available, but as William Blum has duly noted in Killing Hope, “Throughout the 1960s, multifarious American experts occupied themselves in El Salvador by enlarging and refining the state’s security and counter-insurgency apparatus: the police, the National Guard, the military, the communications and intelligence networks, the coordination with their counterparts in other Central American countries … as matters turned out, these were the forces and resources which were brought into action to impose widespread repression and wage war.”
Meanwhile, up in Canada, Neil Young and Bruce Palmer were handling guitar and bass duties for the Mynah Birds. Neil Percival Kenneth Ragland Young was born on November 12, 1945 in Toronto to Scott Young, a sportswriter and novelist, and Edna “Rassy” Ragland, a Canadian television personality. Scott Young had spent a considerable amount of time abroad during World War II, first as a journalist and then as a member of the Royal Canadian Navy. Scott’s father (Neil’s grandfather), like Richie Furay’s, had been a pharmacist/drug store owner.
As Einarson recounts, “Neil Young and Stephen Stills had more in common than music. Both had grown up in transient families, Neil’s journalist father Scott uprooting his mother Edna ‘Rassy,’ Neil, and older brother Bob several times during Neil’s first 15 years.” Novelists, I’m guessing, need to move around a lot.
Just after his seventeenth birthday, Neil formed his first band, the Squires, and began playing local gigs. It was during those early years, according to legend, that Young and Stills first briefly crossed paths up in Canada. That meeting would, a couple years later, allegedly send Young and Palmer – also born in Toronto, to a violinist father and artist mother – off on a cross-country quest to find Stephen Stills.
The Mynah Birds, by the way, also at one time featured Nick St. Nicholas and Goldie McJohn, both of whom defected to a rival local band known as the Sparrows. The Sparrows, after a lead singer replacement, would morph into Steppenwolf. And Steppenwolf, like the other band spawned by the Mynah Birds, would migrate to – guess where? – Laurel Canyon.
To be continued in Part XVI …
Buffalo Springfield
Buffalo Springfield

The Byrds were the very first folk-rock band to take flight, and the one that achieved the greatest fame, but to many discerning ears, Laurel Canyon’s other folk-rock powerhouse, the Buffalo Springfield, was the more talented band.

In the literature chronicling the 1960s music scene, few stories are repeated more frequently than the legend surrounding the formation of what would later be regarded as perhaps the first ‘supergroup.’ All such accounts unquestioningly retell the story as though it were the gospel truth, seemingly oblivious to the improbability of virtually every aspect of the legend. And curiously, virtually every version of the story contains some form of the word “serendipity,” as though everyone has been copying off the same kid’s homework.

As the story goes, Stephen Stills and Richie Furay, formerly of the Au Go-Go Singers, had recently transplanted themselves to Los Angeles after the breakup of the manufactured folkie group. Stills had been the first to relocate, in August of 1965. Furay flew out to join him in February 1966, after spending a little time working at defense giant Pratt & Whitney, and the two set their sights on putting together a folk-rock band.

Meanwhile, up in Toronto, Neil Young and Bruce Palmer were playing in a band known as the Mynah Birds – a band fronted by an AWOL Navy man known as Ricky James Matthews, who would later morph into funkmeister/torturer/rapist Rick James, but whose real name was James Ambrose Johnson, Jr.. The Mynah Birds broke up in March of 1965, just after authorities came calling on Matthews and tossed him in the Brooklyn Brig. Now in search of a new band, Young made the curious decision to head out to LA, for no better reason than that he had what Palmer described as “a hunch, a feeling that … Stephen Stills was in LA.”

Of course, Young had no clue if Stills was in fact there, nor did he know anyone else in LA. And you would think that he would have realized that, even if Stills was there, there was virtually no chance of finding some random person in a city of millions, especially when the person doing the searching had no idea how to get around the city. But no matter. Neil had a calling, so he jumped into an old hearse, of all things, recruited Palmer to ride shotgun, and the two set off on the lengthy trek to Los Angeles.

They arrived, the legend tells us, on April 1, 1966 – April Fool’s Day, appropriately enough – and began the search for Stills. Several days of searching yielded no results, however, and on the afternoon of April 6, the frustrated pair decided to head off to San Francisco in the hopes that maybe they would have better luck finding Stephen there. Perhaps they were going to go on a tour of all the big cities in America, in the hopes that somewhere along the way they might find Stephen Stills.

But as fate would have it, just as they were about to head out of town, Stephen Stills found them. As Barney Hoskyns tells the story in his Hotel California, “Early in April 1966, Stills and Richie Furay were stuck in a Sunset Strip traffic jam in Barry Friedman’s Bentley. As they sat in the car, Stephen spotted a 1953 Pontiac hearse with Ontario plates on the other side of the street. ‘I’ll be damned if that ain’t Neil Young,’ Stills said. Friedman executed an illegal U-turn and pulled up behind the hearse. One of rock’s great serendipities had just occurred. Young, a lanky Canadian, had just driven all the way from Detroit in the company of bassist Bruce Palmer. They’d caught the bug that was drawing hundreds of other pop wannabes to the West Coast.”

The pair had actually driven out from Toronto, not Detroit, and the hearse was a 1959 model by most accounts, and Stills and Furay were in a van rather than a Bentley, but such inconsistencies are typical of all Hollywood legends. In any event, John Einarson, in For What It’s Worth, supplies a somewhat longer, and more hyperbole-filled, version of the legend: “What transpired next is no longer considered simply a chance encounter. Transcending mere fact, the events of the next few minutes have taken on mythic proportions to become, in the annals of popular culture, legendary. More than pure luck, coincidence or serendipity, at that very moment the planets aligned, stars crossed, everyone’s karma turned positive, divine intervention interceded, the hand of fate revealed itself – whatever you subscribe to in order to explain the unexplained. Though each of the five participants in that moment in time tell it slightly differently, the fact remains that the occupants of the white van, individually or collectively, depending on who’s retelling it, noticed the black hearse with the foreign plate heading the other direction. Once the light of recognition came on, the van hastily pulled an illegal, and likely difficult in rush hour, U-turn, maneuvering its way through the line of northbound cars, horn honking frantically all the while, to pull up behind the hearse. One of the passengers leapt out, ran up and pounded on the driver’s side window of the strange vehicle, yelling to the startled travelers inside who had taken no notice of the blaring car horn directly behind them. ‘Hey Neil, it’s me, Steve Stills! Pull over, man!’ The drivers of the two vehicles managed to find curb space or a vacant store parking lot, again depending on whose version is being related, and the five piled out to embrace and introduce one another … On April 6, 1966, in that late afternoon line of traffic, the course of popular music was altered forever.”

Anyone who actually lives and drives in LA likely knows that “difficult” is not really the word to describe the feasibility of making an impromptu U-turn in rush hour traffic on the Sunset Strip; the correct word would be “impossible,” which is the same word that accurately describes the likelihood of that van “maneuvering its way through the line of northbound cars,” or of it finding “curb space” on Sunset Boulevard. But let’s just play along and assume that Neil Young and Stephen Stills, each of whom, for some reason, had been dreaming about forming a band with the other, had a random, chance encounter on Sunset Boulevard. In that brief moment in time, a band was formed – or at least 4/5 of a band.

Retiring to the home of Barry Friedman, who would later legally change his name to Frazier Mohawk, the quartet of musicians quickly decided that their newly-formed band would only perform original material. With no less than three singer/songwriter/guitarists on board (Furay, Young and Stills), along with a bass player (Bruce Palmer), all that was needed was a drummer. Three days later, on April 9, 1966, they acquired one, in the form of Dewey Martin, formerly with the Dillards.

The Dillards, as it turns out, had just decided to go back to their acoustic bluegrass roots, so they no longer needed a drummer. They also apparently had no further need for a whole bunch of new electric instruments and stacks of amplifiers, so Dewey, according to legend, brought all of that with him. Because the Dillards, you know, were just going to throw it all away anyway. So now, with the stars all properly aligned, the band was not only complete but they each had shiny new electric instruments to play – and it all had magically come together in just 72 hours.

There was still much work to be done, of course. For one thing, they all had to learn to play those shiny new electric instruments. And they all had to learn to play together as a band. And they had to build up a repertoire of original songs. And they had to rehearse and polish those songs. But not to worry; they had, as we’ll see, at least a couple of hours to work on each of those things.

Unlike, say, the Byrds, the members of the Buffalo Springfield were, by all accounts, talented musicians from the outset. Stills and Young were both skilled lead guitarists and songwriters, though Young’s vocals were, to be sure, an acquired taste. Furay was an accomplished rhythm guitarist and songwriter, as well as being the group’s best lead vocalist. Bruce Palmer was a respected bass player who, shockingly, actually had experience playing the instrument. And Dewey Martin, several years older than the rest of the crew, had drummed for such rock and country legends as the Everly Brothers, Charlie Rich, Roy Orbison, Patsy Cline, and Carl Perkins.

None of that, however, explains the absurdly meteoric rise of the Buffalo Springfield. On April 11, 1966, just five days after the quartet had purportedly first met, and just two days after they had added a drummer and instruments, the band played its first club date at one of Hollywood’s most prestigious venues: the Troubadour. Four days later, on April 15, they played the first of six dates around the southland opening for the hottest band on the Strip: the Byrds. That mini-tour was followed almost immediately by a six-week stand at the hottest club on the Strip, the Whisky. That gig wrapped up on June 20, 1966.

A month later, on July 25, the band landed the opening slot on the most anticipated concert of the year – the Rolling Stones show at the Hollywood Bowl, sponsored by local radio station KHJ. The station, by the way, had just been launched the previous year, in May of 1965, just a few weeks after the Byrds had taken the world by storm with the release of Mr. Tambourine Man and sparked a folk-rock revolution. Just as new clubs had magically appeared along the Sunset Strip in anticipation of the about-to-explode music scene, so too did a radio station magically appear to promote those new clubs and the artists filling them. Such things tend to happen, as we know, rather, uhmm, serendipitously.

Three days after the Stones concert at the Bowl, Buffalo Springfield released its first single, the Neil Young-penned Nowadays Clancy Can’t Even Sing, which failed to connect with the record-buying public. Several months later, the band would release what was to be its only hit single, and what would become the most recognizable ‘protest’ song of the 1960s. But before we get to that, let’s start back at the beginning … actually, let’s veer off on a tangent first, and then start back at the beginning.

As was duly noted in the last installment of this series, the law enforcement community had ample opportunity to silence the muses of the 1960s counterculture. That the state consistently chose not to utilize that power says much about the legitimacy of that counterculture. For if these iconic figures posed a demonstrable threat to the status quo, then why would they not have been silenced? Why, for example, were three members of the Buffalo Springfield – Neil Young, Richie Furay and Jim Messina, along with Eric Clapton, Furay’s wife, the band’s road manager, and nine others – arrested in a drug bust at a Topanga Canyon home, only to then walk away as if nothing had happened? Why was this case, and so many others like it, not aggressively prosecuted?

The state had other means to silence young critics, of course, one of the best being the military draft. As Richie Unterberger noted in Turn! Turn! Turn!, “Most folk rockers (if they were male), like their audience, were of draft age.” But curiously enough, “Very, very few had their careers interrupted by the draft.” Actually, Unterberger appears to just be playing it safe with the “very, very few” wording; after reading through both of Unterberger’s books and numerous other tomes covering similar ground, I have yet to read about any folk rocker whose career was affected by the draft in the 1960s.

What you will find in the literature are numerous mentions of various people receiving their draft notices, but those are invariably followed by amusing anecdotes about how said people beat the draft board by pretending to be gay or crazy. Of course, if it were really that easy to fool the draft board, then Uncle Sam probably wouldn’t have been able to come up with all those bodies to send over to Vietnam.

Hundreds of thousands of young men from all across the country were swept up and fed into the war machine, but not one of the musical icons of the Woodstock generation was among them. How could that be? Should we just consider that to be another one of those great serendipities? Was it mere luck that kept all the Laurel Canyon stars out of jail and out of the military during the turbulent decade that was the 1960s?

Not likely. The reality is that ‘The Establishment,’ as it was known in those days, had the power to prevent the musical icons of the 1960s from ever becoming the megastars that they became. The state, aka corporate America, could quite easily have prevented the entire countercultural movement from ever really getting off the ground – because then, as now, the state controlled the channels of communication.

A real grass-roots cultural revolution would probably have involved a bunch of starving musicians barely scratching out a living playing tiny coffee shops in the hopes of maybe someday landing a record deal with some tiny, local independent label and then, just maybe, if they got really lucky, getting a little airplay on some obscure college radio stations. But that’s not how the ‘60s folk-rock ‘revolution’ played out. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

As Unterberger duly notes in his expansive, two-volume review of the folk-rock movement, “much folk-rock was recorded and issued by huge corporations, and broadcast over radio and television stations owned for the most part by the same or similar pillars of the establishment.” Right from the start, in fact, it was the largest record labels leading the folk-rock charge. The very first of the folk-rock bands, the Byrds, signed with Columbia Records – whose name, in case you were wondering, is derived from a little place known as the District of Columbia, where the label was founded and headquartered some 120 years ago.

Laurel Canyon’s other folk-rock powerhouse, the Buffalo Springfield – the band that was supposed to be as big as the Byrds and the Beatles and the Beach Boys – signed with Atlantic Records. Atlantic had been founded in 1947 by Ahmet Ertegun and dentist/investor Herb Abramson. Born in Istanbul, Turkey in 1923, the year the Turk Republic was established, Ahmet was the son, and the grandson, of career diplomats/civil servants. His father was named the first Turkish representative to the League of Nations in 1925 and thereafter served as the Turk Republic’s ambassador to Switzerland, France, and England. In 1935, he was named the first Turkish ambassador to the United States and he promptly relocated the family to – where else? – Washington, DC.

From about the age of twelve, Ahmet grew up along DC’s Embassy Row, attending elite private schools with the sons and daughters of senators, congressmen, and spooks. In 1947, three years after his father died, Ertegun founded Atlantic Records. At first, the label was home to jazz and R&B artists, including Ray Charles, the company’s first big star. In the late 1950s, Ertegun took on his first assistant: a guy by the name of Phil Spector, who, rumor has it, was recently convicted of blowing a hole in Lana Clarkson’s head. Atlantic soon shifted focus and rock luminaries like Eric Clapton, Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones would later join the label’s stable of talent.

It would appear then that the two record labels that signed and launched Laurel Canyon’s first two folk-rock bands were not only major record labels, they also just happened to be corporate entities that had deep ties to the nation’s capitol and power center.

It was the major record labels, not upstart independents, that signed Laurel Canyon’s newly-formed bands. It was the major labels that provided them with instruments and amplifiers. It was the major labels that provided them with studio time and session musicians. It was the major labels that recorded, mixed and arranged their albums. It was the major labels that released and then heavily promoted those albums. And so as not to be left out, the corporate titans of all three branches of the mainstream media – print, radio and television – did their part to help out the titans of the record industry.

Unterberger notes that “AM radio (and sometimes prime-time network television) would act as a primary conduit for this countercultural expression.” Conservative, corporate-controlled AM stations across the country almost immediately began giving serious airplay to the new sounds coming out of Southern California, and network television gave the rising stars unprecedented coverage and exposure: “prime-time variety hours were much more likely to showcase rock acts than they would be in subsequent decades. New releases by the Byrds were often accompanied by large ads in trade magazines that simultaneously plugged the records and upcoming TV appearances.”

The boys in the Buffalo Springfield, for example, managed to find themselves appearing as guests on an impressive array of network television shows, including American Bandstand, The Smothers Brothers Show, Shebang, the Della Reese Show, the Go Show, the Andy Williams Show, Hollywood Palace, Where the Action Is, Joey Bishop’s late night show, and a local program known as Boss City. They also made guest appearances, curiously enough, on primetime hits like Mannix and The Girl From Uncle.

The print media did its part as well to raise awareness of the new music/countercultural scene. In September 1965, the nation’s premier newsweeklies, Time and Newsweek, “ran virtually simultaneous stories on the folk-rock craze,” just months after the first folk-rock release, the Byrd’s Mr. Tambourine Man, had climbed to the top of the charts. The country’s biggest daily newspapers chimed in as well, providing an inordinate amount of coverage of the emerging scene. By the end of 1967, the movement had its very own publication, Rolling Stone magazine. Initially designed to look as though it were a product of the underground press, it was, without question, very much a corporate mouthpiece.

Another avenue of the print media provided the scene with considerable exposure as well; as Einarson notes, many of the Laurel Canyon stars, particularly members of the Buffalo Springfield and the Monkees, were “the darlings of the California teen magazines,” including Teenset, Teen Screen, and Tiger Beat.

As the story is usually told, the 1960s countercultural movement posed a rather serious threat to the status quo. But if that were truly the case, then why was it the “pillars of the establishment,” to use Unterberger’s words, that launched the movement to begin with? Why was it ‘the man’ that signed and recorded these artists? And that heavily promoted them on the radio, on television, and in print? And that set them up with their very own radio station and their very own publication? And insured that new clubs sprung up like mushrooms along Sunset Boulevard so that all the new bands would have venues to play?

There are some readers, no doubt, who will say that this was simply a case of corporate America doing what it does so well: making a profit, off of anything and everything. Blinded by greed, the naysayers will claim, the corporate titans inadvertently created a monster. “Move along now folks, there’s nothing more to see here …”

The question that is begged by that explanation, however, is why, after it had become abundantly clear that a monster had allegedly been created, was nothing done to stop the growth of that monster? Why did the state not utilize its law enforcement and criminal justice powers to silence some of the most prominent countercultural voices? And why did the draft board – in every known case, without exception – allow those same voices to skip out on their military service?

It’s not as if the state would have had to resort to heavy-handed measures to silence these allegedly troublesome voices. Being that the vast majority of them were draft-age males who were openly using and/or advocating the use of illegal substances, they were practically begging for the powers-that-be to take action. And yet that never happened.

And now, while you ponder all of that, I’ll circle back around and tell the Buffalo Springfield story from the beginning, starting in 1945 when Stephen Arthur Stills was born to William and Talitha Stills. As John Einarson recounts in For What It’s Worth, Stephen’s “roots are firmly planted in Southern soil. His family traces its history back to the plantations of the rural antebellum South. After the Union armies laid waste to much of the Southern farm economy, the family relocated to Illinois.”

Einarson describes William Stills as “somewhat of a soldier of fortune, an engineer, builder, and dreamer who frequently uprooted the family to follow his dreams and schemes.” That is, I suppose, as good a definition as any for what he actually appears to have been: a military intelligence operative who was frequently on assignment in Central America. Stephen’s childhood was spent in Illinois, Texas, Louisiana, Florida, and various parts of Central America, including Costa Rica, El Salvador and the Panama Canal Zone.

At a fairly young age, he attended the Admiral Farragut Military Academy in St. Petersburg, Florida. In later years, his authoritarian manner and military bearing would earn him the nickname “The Sarge.” He joined his first band, the Radars, as a drummer. In his next band, the Continentals, he played the guitar, alongside another young guitarist named Don Felder, who would later turn up in Laurel Canyon as a member of the Eagles, but we’ll get to that later.

According to Einarson, “An unfortunate incident with the administration at his Tampa Bay high school resulted in Stephen’s dismissal in 1961, after which he joined his wayward family then settled in Costa Rica.” What that “unfortunate incident” may have been has been left to the reader’s imagination. In any event, Stephen’s next few years are rather murky. Some reports have him graduating from a high school in the Panama Canal Zone. Others have him shuffling back and forth between Florida and Central America. Stills himself has at times claimed that he served a stint in Vietnam. Whatever the case, in March of 1964 he surfaced in New Orleans with his sights set on a career in music.

By the summer of 1964, he had drifted to New York’s Greenwich Village, where he became fast friends with folkie Peter Torkelson, who was, like so many others in this story, a child of Washington, DC. The two played together briefly as a duo before Torkelson “migrated to Connecticut then Venezuela.” Nothing unusual about that, I suppose. Torkelson would soon show up in Laurel Canyon, as Monkee Peter Tork. Stills would also audition for the show, but his bad teeth and thinning hair would render him unfit for a leading role on prime-time TV.

In July 1964, Stills found work as one of the nine members of the Au Go-Go Singers, the newly-formed house band for New York’s famed Café Au Go-Go. Singing alongside of Stills was a young Richie Furay, the son of a pharmacist who had run a family drugstore in Yellow Springs, Ohio. Furay’s father died when Richie was just thirteen, as tends to happen from time to time in this story.

By November 1964, the Au Go-Go Singers already had an album out. But trouble soon arose, due primarily to the fact that the band was under contract to Morris Levy, a known organized-crime figure who would soon be indicted on an array of criminal charges. The band soon broke up and Furay headed off to Connecticut where a cousin got him a job at Pratt & Whitney. While working there, he took a little time off to audition for a slot in the Chad Mitchell Trio, but he was beat out by a military brat from Roswell named John Deutschendorf, later to become John Denver.

Stephen Stills, meanwhile, hung out in New York for a while longer before heeding the call of the Pied Piper and heading out to LA in August of 1965. That was the summer, according to Einarson, that “the epicenter of American rock’n’roll shifted coasts, Los Angeles replacing New York as the power base of the music industry.”

Richie Furay apparently soon found himself missing Stills but didn’t know how to reach his former bandmate, so he sent a letter to Stills’ dad in El Salvador, according to legend, and William Stills forwarded the message to Stephen. And what exactly, you may be wondering, was the elder Stills doing in El Salvador circa 1965/66? Details aren’t readily available, but as William Blum has duly noted in Killing Hope, “Throughout the 1960s, multifarious American experts occupied themselves in El Salvador by enlarging and refining the state’s security and counter-insurgency apparatus: the police, the National Guard, the military, the communications and intelligence networks, the coordination with their counterparts in other Central American countries … as matters turned out, these were the forces and resources which were brought into action to impose widespread repression and wage war.”

Meanwhile, up in Canada, Neil Young and Bruce Palmer were handling guitar and bass duties for the Mynah Birds. Neil Percival Kenneth Ragland Young was born on November 12, 1945 in Toronto to Scott Young, a sportswriter and novelist, and Edna “Rassy” Ragland, a Canadian television personality. Scott Young had spent a considerable amount of time abroad during World War II, first as a journalist and then as a member of the Royal Canadian Navy. Scott’s father (Neil’s grandfather), like Richie Furay’s, had been a pharmacist/drug store owner.

As Einarson recounts, “Neil Young and Stephen Stills had more in common than music. Both had grown up in transient families, Neil’s journalist father Scott uprooting his mother Edna ‘Rassy,’ Neil, and older brother Bob several times during Neil’s first 15 years.” Novelists, I’m guessing, need to move around a lot.

Just after his seventeenth birthday, Neil formed his first band, the Squires, and began playing local gigs. It was during those early years, according to legend, that Young and Stills first briefly crossed paths up in Canada. That meeting would, a couple years later, allegedly send Young and Palmer – also born in Toronto, to a violinist father and artist mother – off on a cross-country quest to find Stephen Stills.

The Mynah Birds, by the way, also at one time featured Nick St. Nicholas and Goldie McJohn, both of whom defected to a rival local band known as the Sparrows. The Sparrows, after a lead singer replacement, would morph into Steppenwolf. And Steppenwolf, like the other band spawned by the Mynah Birds, would migrate to – guess where? – Laurel Canyon.

—>  Part XVI

66 thoughts on “Inside The LC: The Strange but Mostly True Story of Laurel Canyon and the Birth of the Hippie Generation Part XV

  1. Carol KS

    continued

    Something doesn’t seem right about their
    being in the middle of all the HATE.

    Just asking.

    It might be time to get to the bottom of their cause and effect pattern.

    Here we go. Be scientific when explaining.The emotional aspect won’t clear up matters.

    Wes did say, they {in Israel} know who Supriem is.

    I hope I don’t get crucified asking these questions. I’m off to take Mudge, my dog for a romp cause I might have stirred it up. And can’t be here for repercussions. Byeeee

    1. Eli Eli

      Oooh Carol, I would never do that. I do have an intense way about me sometimes. But when it comes to ‘bringing out the guns’ or ‘cleaning clocks’ I reserve that for petty tyrants and the like. Never someone as respectful and intelligent as you.
      I’ll have to think a little on the question you posed. Did you mean why do ‘they’ refer to their victimization when questioned about certain things? or why it’s a issue that seems to clings to them ,,like an aura? Could you redefine the question a little.?

      1. Carol KS

        Dear Eli, Whatever you contribute is most welcome. Both points you made, as regards my question fit into what I’m trying to understand.Seems the American Indians don’t whine and make secrect societies, be so materialistic, run banks, determine the media output to us,etc,etc….

        Also, I read that our educational system is mainly influenced by their input.

        Please explain if I am knocking at the wrong door. Thanks

        1. Eli Eli

          North American Indians have suffered greatly and gone through similar oppression. Contrary to what you said, there are some that ‘whine’ a great deal, and some that do not. This is the same with the Jewish people.
          I don’t like generalities, which is why i don’t like hearing bad things spoken about a people or nation as a whole. I have an equal amount of respect and love for North American Indians and for the African peoples as well. The oppression and reproach that was placed on these peoples is horrifying to me.
          There are those in powerful positions of this world who have gone the way of Cain. Leaders and players, royalty and religious hierarchy of many nations have given themselves over to Lucifer’s game, and play their parts well. There are a lot of Zionists in that bunch i’m sure. But not all Jews are Zionists.

          Jesus once gave a parable about wheat and weeds:

          “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While people were sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went away. When the crop came up and bore grain, the weeds appeared, too. The owner’s servants came and asked him, ‘Master, you sowed good seed in your field, didn’t you? Then where did these weeds come from?’ He told them, ‘An enemy did this!’ The servants asked him, ‘Then do you want us to go and pull them out?’ He said, ‘No! If you pull out the weeds, you might pull out the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, “Gather the weeds first and tie them in bundles for burning, but bring the wheat into my barn”

          It goes on to give the interpretation. If you need it, it’s in Matthew 13: 36-43.

          Basically, the powerful elite who have played into Lucifer’s game, and all overs who have given themselves over for service to self, are the weeds, and those who understand the message of love and service to others are the wheat. We are all allowed to grow and develop until it is clear what we are and where we stand. At the end of the age the reapers of the great harvest(angels) will go out and separate the wheat from the weeds and we will go to our assigned places (densities)

          my point: I don’t care what Nation has more weeds, no one but God knows that anyway. I’m more concerned with how many weeds are still in me.

          Eli

          1. Carol KS

            Hi, E You did not answer the question I asked.

            You got very preachy, which I,m sure was very satisfying to the mind.

            Sorry, try again.

    2. Carol KS

      Now I am going to mix everyone up and confuse you all.

      Read this contribution after “Whew, Lone, I thought Eli was going to clean my clock”!!!

      Sorry.

  2. Carol KS

    Whew! Thanks, Lone!!!! I was afraid Eli was going to clean my clock. I’m not good at defending my air-head ways.

    If possible and if you have the time, could you get into how and why the Jewish question is never really questioned without the aura of their

    victimized position in our society.

  3. Mason

    I hope everybody enjoy the waiting party that have been go on for ages to come, oh and my nagging computer needs to restart soon so I just gotta go to sleep soon, I am not a big fan of brownies but I don’t mind trying new things of it.

  4. Carol KS

    Hello again, Eli,

    It looks as if no one can clip your wings when it comes to your journey!

    You explained yourself nicely.

    How lucky! You won’t have to pose for the graduation picture.lol

    1. iamlonefrog

      Darn!

      I was going to ask you to bake some “special” brownies for graduation. I would smuggle them in to the graduation party in my Dukes of Hazard lunch box. Where we could all sit back and enjoy Laurel Canyon’s favorite band the Mynah Birds. (I’m Rick James b!t@#!) and afterwards we could all thank our guest speaker Mr. Reosenthal for a thorough job in ushering us to the fourth density. Gotta love a Jew!

      Please don’t tell me you have lost your sense of humor EE.

      Carol KS, stay away from the kool aid, (it’s spiked)

      1. Eli Eli

        I used to have a ‘Welcome Back Kotter’ lunch box! i bet that would be worth a few bucks now!
        Nooo, still see the lighter side of things, and appreciate Carols way of lightening things up. There are times, however, I feel the need to stand apart on certain matters.
        Another matter where I may differ is that fact that I sincerely have a love and respect for the Jewish people. There are many nations with corrupt leaders, we all know that, but that doesn’t mean the nation and it’s people should be slammed or hated. Americans should be the first to understand and empathize in that regard.

        Anyhoo, save me some of those brownies. ;)

        1. iamlonefrog

          Hey EE,

          Is it true that American born Jews have dual citizenship with Isreal?

          Nobody is doing any slamming here, anyway, I forgot the jewish comedy rule: Only jews may perform jewish comedy. Must have been my goyness getting in the way of being able to follow the rules..

          1. Eli Eli

            I’m not really sure Lonefrog. I’m not Israeli or American, so I’ve never had a ‘need to know’ on that one.

            No, no slamming in this post. It was in the ‘Israel Rehearsing’ post. I thought it was getting a little nasty. I should have made my comment there, but it came out here for some reason. Ohh I did appreciate your statement about not getting into the ‘hate’ cycle. I totally agreed.

  5. Carol KS

    Lonefrog and Rosio, I had a Meditation Teacher who once told me, “Perfection as we know it, can never be achieved”

    Something to ponder!!!!

  6. louie

    I’ve been watching this site since March when I become aware of the goverment’s plan for immunizations for the swine flu in the fall.My concern is not for myself but my children.I have long held the belief that something sinister was happening at the top levels of government and beyond. I just wanted to let Carol KS know where one of the peepers was coming from.Thank you Wes my eyes are opening after a long sleep.

    1. Carol KS

      Hey Louie, Glad to meet you and to see you on board. We call ourselves Wes’s class of 2009, or at least I do.We’ve turned into an amiable group. At first we had the righteous police. That cleared up and now we are good to go!!!

      Hope you hang around for the best yet to come.

      1. Eli Eli

        Hi Carol, I’m glad you cleared that up. (that ‘you’ call us class of 2009) It’s something that wasn’t sitting very well with me. It makes you and others here sounds like students and followers of Wes. I for one am not. I have great respect for Wes and have been checking out ‘Illuminati New’ for a long time now. I love the way Wes ‘complies’ information and articles on topics most journalists won’t touch. But he is not my teacher and I do not wait patiently for his next ‘teaching’.
        It’s not my nature to be a part of any group or ‘body of believers’. I wouldn’t even be part of this blog if it wasn’t for the things that were being claimed about Supreim Rockefeller. I came on to push for the truth and get more clarification on the subject. That is why I’m here, and I am waiting for the blob/book that Wes is currently working on. I know it will be informative and interesting. I trust his ‘journalism’ skills,, but i do not follow his ‘teachings’. I have a very free, sometimes wild, spirit about me. I am a student of life in general and the Spirit of God is my only teacher and guide through this present darkness.

        I just wanted to clarify that Carol. I know you mean it in a complimentary way to Wes.

        Respectively,

        Eli

        1. Mason

          Well I could say the same since I am a skeptic, but I just wanted to find my way out of the foggey clouds and see the truth sometimes, even if I were proven to be wrong for being skeptic sometimes like Susan Blackmore would.

  7. Carol KS

    Thanks Rose, I understand!

    I have lots of ink and paper ready for the FINALS!!!

    Computer is in great shape so bring it on Wes and see how we do.

    This is a big sacrifice on your part and I pray everyone appreciates what you are doing for us.

    The Laurel Canyon stuff is such a heartless mess and at some level seems to be a waste of the God essence.

    But I do understand that I don,t understand this Game, but am willing to
    see it to the end and plan on being OK with every aspect, both positive and negative.

    Light to all the cyber souls.

    Goodnight and sweet dreams.

  8. Carol KS

    WOW! I finally found you guys. Been all over cyber-space looking for you all.

    Been seriously doing some reading and forgot to keep in touch.

    Can’t wait for the BIG DAY!!

    1. Rose

      Hi Carol: Girl you gota come up for air sometimes.I am totally with you on getting lost in information of the book variety. I would have sent you an email to let you know where we all went but alas…with over 60,000 hits on this page I’m not giving out my email…not in this forum anyway.

      Glad you found us, we missed you..

      Rose

  9. Rose

    Wes has been providing us with the Laurel Canyon articles just as soon as the author publishes them. This one is just the latest installment. I am glad he posts them just as soon as David McGowan gets them finished. Davids followers are always pressing him to crank the articles out faster. David McGowan is kinda like Wes in that respect his readers have to wait….like us… and if you think this article is about the promotion of these Rock Stars you better go back to the beginning and read the articles again.

    Rose

    1. Rose, I am sure your right but I really haven’t read through them all the way yet because I just haven’t found enough of it interesting to me. I made the comment about Wes because I wasn’t sure if this was the document he had translated or not. I kinda didn’t think so because of the information it provided, so I was just making light of all the biting of the rear end we did on the last post. Sorry.

      1. Rose

        Sorry TrueP. I wasn’t aiming that last comment at you it was more for butincat. The articles on Laurel Canyon were hard to read when I got started on them. It’s just that I stuck it out and it really leads you down the road to realize how much the music business was and is today geared for mind control, populace suceptability to suggestion and marketing trends, politics, and criminal behavior. The music business as we know it is used by the elite to keep us in line.

        Rose

        1. Rose

          This article was not the german stuff Wes is or was translating. David McGown writes all his articles in English to the best of my knowledge.

    2. Zeki

      Rose,

      This is an interesting article that Wes posted. It is part of a concise plan to undermine America. The best way to destroy a country is from within. You attack it’s borders, language and culture. We are in a war that uses words as it’s main weapon. The music industry was used to destroy the culture of FAMILY. Drugs helped to distort reality. It enabled people to escape their inborn knowledge of right and wrong. If you pay attention to the evolution of pop music–you will see–through that music, a historical record of society. The number one hit of each year gives you the perfect gauge and can be graphed to a scale of decline in morality. From “You are my sunshine” to “Girls just want to have fun” pretty much says it all. Free Love comes with a price. We are now paying up.

      1. Mason

        That’s pretty much what’s going to happen, the only thing is that their music sucks and I can’t even listen to that Miley’s music for goodness’ sakes,
        also I realize that there are some bad kinds of music that can cause problems to the people and stuff, here’s something scary, there was a test about 2 kinds of mices that listen to 2 kinds of music, one is classical and other is heavy metal rock, the ones that listens to the classical find the way home in the maze quickly while the other kind…they got lose and ending up starting to kill each other, that kind of freak me out, the teacher have to stop the test and the music and try to stop the mices from killing each other, it was a bit of the mess I bet, but that’s really my opinion and I don’t know if some teenagers can somehow can listen to it the whole time and still be happy, the funny thing is that long time ago young people who used to listen to Ragtime and Jazz and also the pot smokers if I am not mistaken were end up in the nut houses for it, they were studying them about what have happened and I think it is about 52% of people who listen to those kinds of music does have some sort of problems, speaking of free love, I don’t see how are we paying for it since I was never there in the ’70s (hehehe), I never really understood the marriage, it seems too much of a legal thing to me more than a natural one as the powers to be put it, it just never as important like it is used to be I guess, bad enough there’s too much bratty rotten kids that I just want to slap on it even that they may be my same age, still they should never act like they are having a retard attack, I shall never count them as angry because nothing bad happening to them, now I happen to find a really dumb video, it shows a angry teen playing Halo on the Xbox, all father do is tell him kindly to turn it down and he was just cussing and swearing at him, the door’s not even open, I guess video games can cause problems, I think only the bad, long and hard games can causes problems but that’s just me, I think that’s all of it I can say, one more thing, wasn’t You Are My Sunshine a old country song?

        1. Mason

          Nevertheless I argeed that music can destroy the family culture because I really can’t think of the typical family with such a 2 seconds per 1 beat and some random singing with awful songwriting, there’s one pop music that was made this year about saving earth, I wanted to think it was another pop song but I m’ hearing it worse, basically there’s some very deep annoying beat and a crappy sounding guitar that is playing and a person who singing it is just clings my ears, I meant I am talking about like “Yeah, I know you can take care of her, yeah!”, that line is just enough to make me wanna smash my radio, I don’t have one but I really can’t just have the kinds of repetitive music in my home like disco and stuff, it’s sounds as if they just put a little effect on it and let it run 24 hours a day all week, that would drives me freaking nuts! I really think Christmas music is jut enough and it does depressed me on the hoildays but no more of these stuff, the funny thing is that just a year or two there’s High School Musicals TV movies and that Miley’s show and a year later everybody talks about how great they are, so I give it a try and guess what I can’t even stand the beginning at all so I don’t know why people likes it so much and keeps watching it so much, don’t get me wrong I would open my mind to any kinds of music but I wouldn’t need to spent my whole on beating music for like everyday, I just don’t understand why everybody likes it, it’s like it must be the best thing ever, I reallly just can’t tell how it’s drives me insane, but that’s not enough, sometimes some cars come by with speakers so bass deep that it shakes the whole building, right up to the top, it wakes everyone up in the middle of the night at the time! I hope that doesn’t happen again I hope, I am sorry it just we have come so far from the woodblocks which I likes and nowadays it’s a synthing beating sound which I hates so much because it’s used everywhere, same as the song from one movie that is now used everywhere, drives me nuts, sorry if I talks so much about this kind of stuff I just can’t help it, I enjoy the waiting party so far, but I am pretty sure we don’t need a disco music to go along with it!

      2. Rose

        Zeki, now they are trying to make our kids illiterate….What is up with this texting rage. The kids today have enough trouble reading real literature. Now they use shorthand or code to text. How long do you think it will be before none of them can actually read our language (American English is what I mean since I am an American in America). Just a clarification for those among you that might be in a different country.

        1. Mason

          I never even heard of American English but I do happen to understand some forms of English, I just speak plain old English, at least thank god I speak nothing like all these wacky kids that been all over the internet typing in the kind of lauguage that I don’t understand, I don’t know how it’s starts but I really wish they should just type in pretty clear like I would so people can read, the first language is Americian Sign Language but man that doesn’t match with the way I speak like that it was like egg come first before a rooster, it was ASL or ESL, I don’t get it both of I just speak English most of the time, what a load of bulls in a freaking barn!!

  10. Mason

    God I hope fountain of youth doesn’t exist, if it is and my parents have find it by then they would be younger than their old overgrown child, hehe.

        1. Mason

          I think I should say something about watching the videos, I can’t easily understand the videos without subtitles since I am Hard Of Hearing, but a new world order ghost, good one.

            1. Mason

              English, that was my second laugage but darn if I ever know what the heck my first language, it was a sign lauguage but I wasn’t sure if it is ASL, EL or AL, I really don’t care who said that they are right I just gotta be safe and just use English most of time anyway, I can’t learn a thing about French, the only word I can say is kat for cat in English, that’s it, also I have never start speaking until my early teenager years, it’s kind of akward for me to start talking at the time but everybody gets used to it, well not everybody but it wasn’t too bad so far, I happens to say words in the wrong ways sometimes that gets people confused, if you ever heard of Ricky character from Trailer Park Boys I sort of like that when trying to say new words sometimes.

  11. Mason

    One of my weakness is that It’s hard to remember all the information that I read and try to connect it together, I read it again sometimes if I feel like not when needing to read it again to understand, I never really liked to be tolded to real again even I already know the story in school so many times that telling anyone to read it again seems like a sin to me so, I don’t know I just try my best and stuff, I was never really a big fan of Rock as I never glow up with it but I do like some of it, the thing about the music is that the only real live music I ever heard of is to play music in the piano in the drug store, I often never have much money to buy the CDs or going to the music shows and stuff like that, I happens to be hard of hearing and I guess the first time I hear the music is in the old videos games that I used to play as well as the music in the movies, pretty at least the only way I can enjoy more of the music is to study music online and start writing my own songs on the keybroad, ironically my dad got a lot of CDs, there’s like a million of them and I almost never listen to any of it because I have a pretty busy life, the kind of music I enjoyed listening is Ragtime and Romantic Era music mostly, I do try to listen other music sometimes, speaking of which, I am amazed about how the lead singer of The Doors could come up with songs without even know anything about music before it, I can’t wait for the next part of this someday soon.

  12. Rose

    I have so far read all the articles of Laurel Canyon/Hippie Generation Information. After reading this last installment I realize that in the mid to the late 60’s I would have been following these groups rather religiously as did most teenage girls at the time. I was even a major consumer of Tiger Beat Manazine. But in 1966 a new show hit the black and white television that was in my livingroom. That was when my attention was diverted from mainstream music to a new set of coordinates. I went from a teen magazine and music junkie to a space cadet: specifically Star Fleet Academy Cadet. Yes, Star Trek pulled me from being a mainstream brainwashed music junkie to Space: The Final Frontier. Thankfully I am still there today. Perhaps that shift in my reality is one of the reasons I am a truly independent thinker to this day. Since I was an Airforce brat till the tender age of 17 I have no doubt that the Laurel Canyon gang were instruments of the Establishment.

    Rose

    1. iamlonefrog

      Rose,

      Well, if you are still following the same coordinates,

      Did you ever figure out why the “Borg” wanted to assimilate everything? I can’t help but wonder what would have been gained from a 24/7 shared consciousness. It just seems that the losses would have been far greater. Anyway, maybe I have to reread/review all of my lessons from Star Trek.

      Here’s one I stumbled across awhile back,

      1. Rose

        As far as the Borg were concerned they had a hive mind. But the Queen of the Borg was searching for Perfection. The tricky part about searching for perfection is it’s kind of like searching for the fountain of youth its a nice idea but not very realistic. Many people usually pay the price for these searches on a large scale. The 24/7 contiousness thing is usually a way to monitor thoughts to retain and enforced the running directive of perfection.
        Rose

        1. iamlonefrog

          Did some more research on the Borg and found out that Dr. Crusher insisted upon bringing a injured Borg onto the enterprise for treatment. Against the will of the Captain. The Borg, Three of Five, ended up getting the name of Hugh, from an engineering crew member while discovering what it meant to be soveriegn. He then took this concept back to the collective consciousness of the hive and it led to a paradigm shift. The “collective” nearly collapsed because of this new reality.

          Never gave it much thought before. This waiting party is getting trippy.

          1. Rose

            Yep Lonefrog sounds like you are getting there. Star Trek has a lot of comparisons to this reality and how its all there from a new angle if you only look at it.

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