With the death of Edward Kennedy another piece of the 1960’s falls. Many historians feel that the ’60’s began with the inauguration of President Kennedy and ended with the botched Woodstock-style concert at Altamont Speedway in California on December 6, 1969. Just like the Rolling Stones pegged themselves as the “Anti-Beatles” the concert at Altamont was the “Anti-Woodstock.” In other words, everything that Woodstock brought to the world, Altamont tore down.
The organizers of Woodstock lost heavily on the concert but recouped their seed money many times over when the movie and three-record album was released. This never began the era of big money in music but it fueled a growing trend. The 1970’s began the time of “The Big Record Mogul.” The small independents were being gobbled up by the big labels and “selling out” became the order of the day. Many of the acts who never bought into the money machine fell by the wayside. Others like Elton John, the Bee Gees and Rod Stewart morphed from their blues roots into Disco Stars.
It was hard not to buy into the post-Woodstock era of music. In less than a month’s time groups that played in bars and packed their own gear from vans could be playing packed coliseums. Kiss and Super Tramp were examples of this new trend and so were former “Hippies” like John Denver became television stars.
Hey, there’s nothing wrong with this. Marlon Brando went from being a motorcycle punk and leader of the new 1950’s youth movement to an overweight caricature of his former self. And maybe that’s exactly what happened to the music after Woodstock.





Stumble it!
I remember when the album Woodstock came out. It was a three-disc set that we quickly wore out (I still have the scratched copy) and I also bought it on 8-track. The only problem with that – besides obvious mechanical failures – was that I’m Going Home by Ten Years After was cut in half and you heard the last half of the song on the next track.
There are certain moments in a person’s life when a chance meeting, vocalization or other incident engraves that person’s name in history forever. For famous movie star Lana Turner, it was walking into a Hollywood drug store to get a chocolate malt at the same time a film producer was there. But for Hugh Nanton Romney, a so-so funny man once managed by Lenny Bruce, this happened three times.
I always loved the name “Canned Heat.” It came from an 1928 Tommy Johnson song about an alcoholic who couldn’t afford booze and had begun ingesting Sterno as a substitute, which is also called “canned heat.”