John Ebert
From Minnewiki
Biography
(aka Goldstreet)
Left to right Back Row: Bernie Pershey, Doug Nelson, Dale Strength. Front Row: cat, Gregg Inhofer, Robyn Lee
1967
"The Greenlight" band formed of high school friends that played in the St. Paul, MN area. Fane Opperman played the drums and later engineered and mixed The Rastafarians - Orthodox (1981) at his namesake studio "Fane's" (Santa Cruz, CA). John got his fingers on the Greenlight sound equipment and tape machine to "improve" the balance and body of the overall production, and it was his first effort at live production. John still has good quality tapes of rehearsals. Fane also was involved with "The Skeptics" in 1966.
Within the same year John met up with a local musician (Jim Van Buskirk) by chance and began managing sound for his operation from time to time, it was a rather on and off sort of thing. The first show was at the Veterans of Foreign Wars building in Nisswa, MN and another show in Little Falls, MN. This stint was short lived, and John stopped working with groups from 1968 until 1970. John worked in sound systems with Joe Scanlon (vocals, percussion) of "Cottonwood" and also Rick Youngberg (vocals, guitar) of "The Paisleys" for a short period in 1970-1971 in St. Paul just before This Oneness in 1972. The Scanlon/Youngberg group's name was "Karma". [ Other Paisley members were Brad Stodden (vocals, guitar), Dick Timm (bass, vocals), Bob Belknap (drums, vocals), Bill Smith (piano, vocals), Mike Cornelius (drums, vocals), Rick Youngberg (guitar, vocals) ] John's pre-This Oneness connection began by another chance encounter with a member of the Pepper Fog band. One time during a break between sets, someone got on stage and literally ate a hand mirror donated by a woman in the audience. Using a microphone to emphasize the chewy and crunchy sounds was effective, but how he failed to hurt himself remains unknown.
- The West Bank, Cedar-Riverside, Dania Hall, 7 Corners Era
John's time between bands occurred in 1968-1969. During that period musicians played upstairs at Dania Hall on 5th Street and Cedar Avenue. At that time the people burned incense on thin sticks, and light-shows were performed here using cooking oil mixed with food coloring heating up on top of overhead projectors by either "Community News Light Show" or "The Magic Lantern Show". The Paisleys performed on the stage in the old 1886 Dania Hall theater with balconies above Richter's Drug Store historic site of "Old" West Bank before it caught on fire many years later, and no doubt there are still many a person's memories of this place and moment in American history. The front entrance running up the east wall was a steep, skinny, and creaky wooden stairs to the upper hall, the old steps were shoe worn to the point of having the look of curved boards with the harder grain resisting erosion. Imagine the numbers of feet passed over them in over one-hundred years! One could also take the metal fire-escape in the back alley up to the emergency exit door on the second floor, and then up the back stairs to the balcony where the light shows were projected from. Obscure and ephemeral bands of the era that played that stage were "Poison Bird Pie", "TBA" (To Be Announced), and "Black Jesus". Ray Molina (Rocky) and "Animal", and a 3rd unknown member were in either Black Jesus or TBA, or both. It could be considered something of a Liverpool "Cavern" of the Minneapolis music scene at that time and provided a great entertainment anchor for the youth of the latter 1960s and very early 1970s. The book "West Bank Boogie" offers additional detailed historical coverage of the 1960s West Bank times and some significant music roots that were forged in that community.
The Cream (1968)
The St. Louis Park Historical Society has some good music history pages. According to the article they carry on the Cream, they "performed at the New City Opera House on May 5, 1968. The show was fraught with problems – the band was late, the equipment didn’t work, the show was less than an hour, and the musicians made out like they were doing the audience a big favor – but the music was superb. One reviewer said the show was “worth the agony: the ecstasy was delicious.” They may have jammed at Magoo's after the show." "I can add that did indeed happen, I was on Nicollet Avenue near Lake Street and went into a club just by chance (it must have been Magoo's)
The Canned Heat and The Bear at a St.Paul concert (update: estimated 1971 now after some discussions with close friends, instead of '70 as before)
John was backstage at a St.Paul, Minnesota concert supporting Joe Scanlon and Rick Youngberg's "Karma" group opening for "Canned Heat". I am having a difficult time locating reference material on just when this happened, any research is welcome, all I can say is it happened and I was there (posted John Ebert, Mar. 24th, 2007). They were in the region at Met Sports Center May 3rd, 1970 but I cannot pin down the show date at St. Paul (in the old Auditorium?). My impression is that it took place as an impromptu event with little or very short notice billing as a supplemental show added while they were in town for another show, with only enough audience to fill the floor section attending. The Canned Heat band had such a good time in the dressing room before the show, that they had to take the stage without The Bear (too many festivities for the moment, the room was a party disaster area). Well, they were opening the first song without him and I grabbed a wet towel and a cold ice-water, and gave him a pep talk while he quaffed down some H2O goodness, and I was yelling "Hey Bear! Bear! Wake Up! Bear! Whats the concert gonna be without you, come on! Open your eyes, we gotta go!" He rallied, and I went with him as far as the top of the stage stairs to be safe for him, and he pulled out his harmonica and got out there and joined in the opening few measures just in time to play this: On The Road Again
"Social Engineering The Who Security", or, "A Story of Petty Youthful Moral Inturpitude" (for which I am entirely rehabilitated)
One day The Who were coming to play at the Met Sports Center in Bloomington (same place I saw The Rolling Stones the first time). I did not have the sense to buy a ticket for the concert in time, so I decided I had to schmooze my way into the show. I got up early that day and headed across town to the arena early, not "too" early. I imagined myself to be a V.I.P. and walked up to the west security door above the vehicle access drive-in and assumed and projected the persona I felt was needed to sell some snake-oil. In appearance, I had long hair, a crisp white dress shirt under a British style black sport coat, faded jeans, my black "Beatle Boots" on, and my roadie attache case with tour stickers pasted all over it. In the CIA, they call that the "litter" that sells the story. I met resistance from the lone security guard, but I persisted, and kept glancing at my wrist-watch, getting all the more impatient as the concert time approached, getting almost frantic and feverish in my behavior with the guard as "I have papers for the concert for the band to sign before they can play!!" and "I have to be waiting in the dressing room with them ready when they arrive or its not going to happen" sort of talk. At the time I felt fairly sorry for the fellow as I could see him starting to sweat and freak out and my presentation was working, and when I knew one more push might do it but I was running out of momentum, the radio chimed in that the WHO limo was rolling up to the EAST entrance on the opposite side of the Met Center (my good fortune I felt), I said, "Well, look, now its about over here isn't it, and you'll be the one everyone will be looking at, won't you!" and I turned and began to walk away quickly, and then he broke. He said "OK, OK, follow me, quickly!", and I was escorted down to the west dressing room. When we arrived I said, "Thank-you, this will do" and he said "OK, they'll be here in about a minute", and he left quickly. I was somewhat terrified at this point as well, as I was certain Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend and company were about to walk in and freak out their "WHO-NESS" on me which was the last thing I wanted to suffer. I "quick-timed" out of there as soon as the guard was out of sight. I was a sight, peeking around the corner, listening to the seconds tick off like slow motion klaxons in my head as he left. Being in the basement of the arena, I knew I could find my way into press zone in the front of the stage, no-one would challenge my credentials as I was already inside the security perimeter. I found and scooted into the press area upstairs and sat down quickly about 12 feet from stage to draw as little attention to myself as possible, and none too soon, for in a few minutes they appeared to the roar of the crowd and opened with the most popular teen tune of all time "My Generation" and later smashed some poor senseless guitar to pieces in a finale.
"Wild Wild Mid-West" Outdoor Music Festivals
Another part of regional music history revolves around outdoor festivals. I was at the Stevens Point Festival in Wisconsin where, just as the sun was rising, 80,000 hungry people awoke to the Minneapolis band's energy and drive, "White Lightning" (but did not know Bernie Pershey the drummer yet). I had arrived in Wym Willows "choo us" school bus along with a food bin of nuts, raisins, dried bananas and sugared-oatmeal. The bus, our base of operations and psychological security blanket, was named "choo us" because the "s" and "l" in "school" and the "b" in "bus" had faded out of recognition across the top above the front windows. It was at this festival just before the music, and everyone was just awakening that a simmering free-for-all broke out between "festers" and some of the Chicago Hell's Angels for alleged sexual assaults the night before. I think the story was probably true, certainly a lot of other people present thought so, but that could have also been the way a mob devolves. Truth be known or not, the morning of some kind of mob judgment and justice began being served up hot with an effective barrage and hail of bottles and rocks from the high ground. The signal was instinctual, no commander gave the order, the signal to begin was simply "a happening" when a Chicago Hell's Angel flipped-off the assembled young men on the hill after previously firing a few pistol shots are someone abut 30 feet to my left. I got down low and peeked over the top of the tall grass. The group behavior response was swift and decisive. It was this observers opinion after the fact that the Angels were very, very fortunate to escape with their lives that morning minus the total loss of one hapless motorcycle. That scooter never made it home because the engine would not fire-up in time before the wave of "festers" followed up their blizzard of bottles and rocks by running as a herd down the hill into the waiting wall of Angels with rotating chains, guns and glass bottles. I saw one rotating heavy link chain find it's hippie and wrap up around him like a boa constrictor, but that was the last lick they got in, the rage had exploded, and hand to hand combat ensued, and then Angels began falling. The Angels repulsed the charge fearlessly, but outnumbered by the crush of that human wave, there were 3 and 4 or more per Angel like very angry bees on some bears. At one point, fear that an Angel was about to die from drowning in a mud puddle there resulted in the intervention on his behalf by other festers as he had completely stopped moving with his face down in the water blowing bubbles until there were no more bubbles left to blow. I was quite fearful for him at that point, and was about to run to his rescue but those others nearby also saw the problem and dragged him out of the water. When he regained consciousness, he began feebly belly and chest crawling in the dirt toward the departing club members. His abandoned motorcycle became a crispy charred bent and twisted chunk of metal when the people were finished with it, it's mud covered owner finally managed to weakly rise to his feet and barely running to catch up and jump a ride on the tail of the last scooter in a long line of scooters popping and snarling down the dirt road toward Chicago, with the mob in "measured" pursuit a dozen feet behind ( I don't think they really wanted to catch them at this point). The energy of the day at that point had the rarified sense of being the kind any Worf type Klingon would have wanted to be present for. Once the scooters hit the pavement, they opened the scooter throttles wide, and great gaps of distance and thunder suddenly poured out behind and between each of them as they dumped loads of gas into the cylinders, departing quite decisively in a show of mass raw scooter power. The words Rolling Thunder come to mind. Then the day's music started, and the festers retired to lick their wounds, have some breakfast, return to the music, and a few probably received some grateful kisses and hugs from their sweeties.
The 1970 Poynette Rock Fest was no problem. You can read about it here: http://www.wisconsinhistory.org/whi/feature/soundstorm/. It was all different the next year. At the 1971 Poynette Rock Festival in Wisconsin, the bands never showed up except The Big Daddy Band, and the people were so pissed that they burned the stage to the ground along with a few semi-trucks and trailers and about a million hot dogs weenies inside one of them, along with all the porta-potties. I thought that made no sense, porta-potties would be the last thing you would want to burn! It may have also been an unofficial world record weenie roast. It looked like hell with pillars of smoke rising up all around as the anarchists in the crowd howled like invisible canine packs hidden in the nearby wooded hills before they struck with fire yet another time, definitely a very, very weird night and day ruled by anarchists and fire-bugs. I was not the only one outraged by the people's behavior, however, and I think about 50% of the people were against all the destructive action going on. The equally dumbfounded and amazed State Highway Patrol stood outside the perimeter wondering what to make of it all and finally just waited for it to end. The Big Daddy web-page states the Wisconsin State Police had something to do with the bands not being allowed into the festival, so go figure as to why they would be surprised people who paid for tickets would be upset. The next morning I awoke with pneumonia and a 106 degree fever resulting in a quick trip to the hospital in Madison for help and then 18 hours of fevered perspiring delirium alternating with sudden chills and shaking in a strangers bed kindly surrendered in my time of need.
On a better day, a very good friend and I headed for "Mad Town" or "The People's Republic of Madison" and an outdoor activity organized by Youth International Party co-founder Jerry Rubin in the park by the lake, for a little bit of brutal crushing "Earth Ball" (something like this) with over-zealous participants, later to find and meet old blind musician "Moondog" on State Street, hitch-hiking across America asking for some "bread" donations to help out along the way. Check out the unique minimalist-percussionist-composer Moondog, you have never met anyone like him!
Under the Stars With The Chambers Brothers Band at the "Galena in Wadena" Rock Fest 1970
Wadena, Iowa gained national attention in 1970 when it hosted the rock festival, "Galena in Wadena". An influx of about 30,000 arrived to attend the concert, which was held over a 2 day period. Other outdoor festivals came and went, but there was a special one that I hitch-hiked to from Minneapolis. I was standing in the rain 4 hours before I got a ride at one point and starting to get very cold. The rain got so heavy I found an abandoned shed and found out the rattlesnakes under the floorboards didn't want to share it with me. They let me know by buzzing their tails just under the floor-boards, and there were more than one of them! I decided it was more enjoyable standing in the rain along the highway after-all. I arrived in time to help build the stage and put out porta-sans from semi-truck flatbeds. Some "buff and cut" young green-beret thought he was God of the Fest, lording it over everyone on how to do this and how to do that and "do it" now, so I conspired with his beret buddy to lovingly capture him for his own good, and so we double team surprised him and tied him up, and stuffed him in his sleeping bag and tent for an hour or so, taking care to ensure he was at all times safe, until he promised to behave normal-like and be one of the people. Once we settled that he'd "been owned", he was a fine fellow from then on and joined the ranks of the peaceable and happy music-festers. He is the only special forces green beret I have ever "captured" (I was only following orders from his beret buddy anyway).
Johnny Winter played that August 1970 night along with The Chambers Brothers performing "Time Has Come Today". You can listen to them just as I heard it that night here. It is a fact that when they hit the 3:00 minute mark, it was sounded really good rolling off the hills and forests in the star-lit night concert, it was a moment to be alive and present at 19 years of age, worth every rattlesnake, raindrop, and green beret to be there. They recorded an 11-minute version of the song, the version they played at the festival. Some radio stations played the shorter 5 minute version but 37 years later on June 26th, 2007, I actually heard the long version played on New York internet station wfmu.org Other websites record performances by The Flying Burrito Brothers, Big Mike, The Everly Brothers, Sons of Champlin, Joan Baez, REO Speedwagon, White Lightning, POCO, and Siegal-Schwall.
A Memorable Peaceful Anti-War Music Fest in the Twin Cities
In counter-point, a kite-flying summer day in the sun was held sometime that year 1970, or so, in the adjoining Minneapolis Sculpture Garden park lands just north of the "Old" Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, and the chance to hear Richie Havens belt out "Freedom" on his acoustic guitar. Richie Havens is about non-violence and the repudiation of guns as a solution to conflict. I can still hear his raspy but passionate voice singing "Motherless Child" and "Freedom" in the breezy sunshine, and the audience spiritual cheers.
Another venue for Minneapolis concerts were those held at the Labor Temple. The local band Pepper Fog opened for this show.
Two People Highlighted
I was an occasional hang-out friend of Bill Strandlof of The Litter at some practice sessions and at his home. Bill was a gracious, happy, and somewhat soft-spoken person. Bill was also involved with Craig Swanson (of The Skeptics) in the band "Tramp" in 1976.
More Local Music History Information
http://www.jeanneandersen.net/musichighlights.html
Related Groups
Olivia Newton-John
Greenlight
Cottonwood
Karma
