I Was There: Gigs That Changed the World
By Mark Paytress
Cassell Illustrated, 288 pages, $24.95
It’s a bit of a leap to assume that each and every one of the dozens of concerts profiled in Mark Paytress’ exhaustive collection actually altered the state of life on Earth. It’s probably fair, however, to allow that he captures some of the key moments in live-music history.
The force of Paytress’ essays, which are liberally sprinkled with eyewitness accounts from various concerts, is strengthened considerably by the accompanying photographs. Some of the shots (courtesy of a phalanx of shooters, some established, others simply at the right place at the right time) are extraordinary, and they lend intimacy to what could have been a fairly dry read on some very juicy stories.
The book begins with Robert Johnson’s 1938 performance in Greenwood, Miss., which turned out to be the great musician’s last stand. His whiskey was laced with strychnine by a jealous husband (whose wife had caught Johnson’s eye), and Johnson died a few weeks later from the poison’s lingering effects.
From this auspicious start, the book plunges headlong into essays and photographs exploring the 20th Century’s myriad musical events. The 1950s notables range from Charlie Parker’s 1953 triumph at a Toronto club to Elvis Presley’s 1956 appearance on Milton Berle’s TV show. The 1960s saw Frank Sinatra hamming it up at the Sands Hotel, the Beatles hitting a home run at Shea Stadium, the Rolling Stones evoking a fatal rage at Altamont and, of course, the excesses and ecstasies of Woodstock.
In the 1970s, things took a turn for the psychedelic, beginning with the Concert for Bangladesh (the origin of the benefit concert species, led by former Beatle George Harrison and attended by Ringo Starr but pointedly snubbed by John Lennon and Paul McCartney). It was followed closely by Elvis in Hawaii (Oh, that white jumpsuit!) and, later, Parliament at the Oakland Coliseum. The ’80s were a mishmash of musical styles, political causes and, of course, haircuts: Michael Jackson, Live Aid and Public Enemy all made headlines. A decade later, causes were largely abandoned in favor of malaise (Nirvana), highly stylized depression (Jeff Buckley) and utterly unfounded narcissism (Oasis).
Throughout, there are nods to the legends: Bob Dylan’s infamous electric set in Manchester, England, where a disgusted concertgoer screamed “Judas!” at the usually laid-back Minnesotan, who responded by launching into an amped-up version of “Like a Rolling Stone.”
At Folsom State Prison in 1968, Johnny Cash held his guitar like a rifle, aiming the music straight into his audience, and, 25 years later, social commentary took on a completely different face when U2 took the stage at London’s Wembley Stadium.
There are probably music aficionados who will read this book carefully and decry the absence of one or more of their all-time-favorite most-transformative concert events. It may not be a definitive compilation, but it’s a great compendium of truly epic moments, capturing popular music’s tragedy, comedy and occasional flash of absolute genius.
———-
jreaves@tribune.com
