The Sixties Underground.

Posted on by Opher

 

IMG_2129The sixties is my time. This was the period I grew up in and am spiritually attached to. For me it was all new and sparkly.

At the age of ten and eleven it was all Buddy Holly, Little Richard and Eddie Cochran for me. Then I discovered the joys of Bo Diddley and Chuck Berry.

When the Beatles and Stones stormed on to the scene in 1963/4 I was right into it. This was my music. Nobody had ever done anything like it. Every week seemed to bring a totally new sound – The Who – ‘I Can’t Explain’, The Smallfaces – ‘Whatcha Gonnsa Do About it’, Kinks – ‘You Really Got Me’ – Downliners Sect ‘Little Egypt’, Yardbirds – ‘I Wish you Would’, Them – Here Comes the Night/Gloria’. It went on and on. New sounds. New bands. It was endless.

Then there was the Blues with Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, Elmore James and Sonny Boy Williamson and seeing the great Son House play live.

There was Folk with Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs and Buffy St Marie raising the sensitivities to Civil Rights and anti-war.

Then the end of sixties and the Underground. The sixties for me wasn’t the swinging England of Carnaby Street, the mini-skirts and dandies, it was the idealism and politics of the counter-culture and the music that was the backdrop to it – Hendrix, Cream, Captain Beefheart, Roy Harper, Country Joe & the Fish, Doors, Buffalo Springfield, Traffic, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Love, Pink Floyd, Family, Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, John Mayall, Fugs, Jefferson Airplane, Byrds, and Grateful Dead.

The creativity, range and ideals were soaked up and invigorated me. The sheer range of new sounds was incredible. It was a million miles away from the Pop of popular culture on the telly. The media’s stereotyping of ‘hippies’ and swinging sixties was a million miles away from the reality.

These were the fires that forged my character. I fed off the ideals of equality, non-violence and creativity. I still believe in justice, fairness and a sustainable life-style.

The sixties spawned the women’s movement, green groups and civil rights. It gave rise to the questioning of authority that has won numerous rights for people.

The sixties wasn’t a fashion or style, a stereotyped look to ridicule; it was a period of great innovation and a time when the establishment was rocked.

The establishment is now back in control. The rebellion of the sixties and Punk have been bought up and sold for profit. I see the styles and fashions all mocking the reality. It’s bought and sold.

Where’s the sanity coming from now? Or are we destined to keep on down this path of mindless growth and economic madness towards Armageddon? Is the world of fashion, games, distraction and mindlessness ruling forever?

We’re all victims, to one degree, of the era we grew up in.

Posted on by Opher

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We human beings are tribal. We haven’t evolved very long. We form allegiances easily and get ourselves bogged down in them so that we find it hard to adapt and change.

I listen to programmes where someone chooses songs that they identify with and it is inevitably choices from the era in which they were young and forming their identity.

I am a child of the sixties. My likes and preferences still reverberate around the idealism, positive attitudes, political involvement, social improvement, and sensitivities of that era. I have great distrust of the establishment and authorities. I have seen the bad decisions, lies and prevarication. I do not like being manipulated.

My choice in music tends to be the rebellious anti-establishment music. I like music that says something or represents something. I am not happy with a ‘product’ or a ‘pop song’. Rock Music to me is rebellion.

It was not until I ran my History of Rock Music classes and wrote my books on Rock Music that I realised how partisan I had been about different genres. There were whole areas that I had written off because they did not square with my ‘tribe’. When I came to teach about them and had to listen I found there were lots of good things in there.

I am less partisan now but am still a victim of my era to a great extent though I do my best to keep an open mind. I hate the sanitised, over-produced ‘product’ being put out by the major labels at the moment. I miss the unified rebellion of the sixties underground and punk movement.

Music isn’t just entertainment for me; it’s reinforcement of my idealism. It is the glue of the tribe I align myself with. It’s an identity thing. It is a passion.

Sixties Counter-culture and the Establishment.

Posted on by Opher

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The Sixties Counter-culture was extremely disturbing to the Establishment. They did not know how to handle it. For the first time they were up against a culture who did not aspire to the same values as them. They were not interested in wealth and power. Their motivation was fun, discovery, freedom, exploration, fulfilment, creativity, sex, music and living life to the full.

They soon learnt how to deal with it though. They exploited ways of making it into fashion so they could make money out of it. They subverted it by incorporating its leaders into the establishment and buying off the creative and entrepreneurial.

The Sixties rebellion petered out into sell-out of values, double-dealing and incorporation into mainstream accelerated through stereotyping and ridicule in the media and drug casualties. The disillusioned rump was forced to drop back in. Now all we see of that idealism is a media generated stereotype of ‘Peace and Love, man’. The reality of a sharing, friendly, open culture that was vibrant and creative outside the mainstream has been occluded from vision.

The rebellious leaders, such as Mick Jagger and Felix Dennis became multimillionaires in the media and music business. Jagger dined with aristocrats and was lauded by the people he had purportedly rebelled against.

Strange world we live in, isn’t it? – Where the revolution is subsumed into hip consumerism. Everything becomes shallow fashion and we’re back to capitalist consumerism as if nothing had happened. Music has become Simon Cowell and The Voice, processed and devoid of meaning.

It’s like the Sixties never happened.

The sixties alternative counter-culture

Posted on by Opher

If you are interested in the sixties counter-culture and what it was like to live through those incredible times you might like to read something from someone who was there!

I lived in London during the sixties and was part of that sixties scene.

Want to find out more?

The human mind is very fragile

Posted on by Opher

Contrary to our perceptions of ourselves, we are extremely fragile. War, bereavement and fear can play havoc with our delicate psyche. The world is consumed by hatred and violence because so many of us have been desensitised and traumatised by the terrible things that have happened to them and the ones they love.

We have to find a way of healing our mentally wounded and prevent others from becoming traumatised.

In places such as Gaza, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Libya, Egypt, Sudan and Ireland people have been, or are being, incredibly damaged by their experience.

Opher’s World has the answer. Build a new Zeitgeist. Visit Opher’s World :

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New Roy Harper book – Ruminating on Roy Harper

Posted on by Opher

I’ve just begun work on a new Roy Harper book and I thought that it might be good to share the beginning with you.

This is the Preface to ‘Ruminating on Roy Harper’. I hope you like it. I’d love to hear your comments.

Preface

 

1967 was a momentous year for me. I was eighteen, boiling with hormones, angst, sex and rebellion. In the prefabricated world of the dedicated followers of fashion I was the rank outsider, too extreme to fit into the norms of the ‘in crowd’ with their Carnaby Street flares and neatly trimmed long hair and collections of top ten hits. With my shoulder length hair, Zen and head full of Kerouac’s crazy zest for discovery I was the acid tongued hipster more attuned to the psychedelic jungle of London backstreets, blues clubs and all night adventures than a sixth form common room.

I wanted to let rip. I was eighteen, wild and bursting with idealistic fervour.

The world was my playground, my university, my mystical, infinite source of wonder and awe. Life was there to be burned. I had to grapple with it, wrestle it to submission and screw answers out of it.

1967 was the year of freedom. I got my car and was leaving home. There were just a few side issues to put to rest: I had to take my A Levels and secure grades that would get me a university place so that the next three years were sorted and I could continue my explorations; I had to decide where to go; and I had to get somewhere to live. It wasn’t quite Kerouac’s dream. But it was close enough.

While the ‘in crowd’ studied I did my own investigations. I haunted the Toby Jug, Middle Earth, the UFO and Marquee. This was my year of psychedelics, Beat literature and poetry. My head was full of Acid Rock and Underground mutterings. I wanted to take it all by the scrag and wring it dry. There was not a moment to be wasted.

To top it all I was in love and that gave me another heady set of hormones to stew my rewiring brain. All those trillions of delicate neurons vainly trying to snake their way through the chemical swamp of my cerebrum as they futilely attempted to rewire me into an adult. For adult was the rudest of words and one I rejected forever. Adult was the vision of my dad with his slippers, TV, 9 to 6 job, and living death on the settee. Adult death had to be fought off and slain.

I was considered a bad influence and subsequently banned from the common room and so spent my days more profitably chatting up the girls, arguing music with the dead, sorting out the sounds, gigs and parties and hanging with the small group of similar misfits. Our task was to push the limits and watch with burning eyes as the bourgeoisie squirmed impotently.

Seemingly I was throwing away my future.

Nineteen sixty seven was a year that went off in one long slow motion detonation whose reverberations would echo through my life, whose tsunami washed away the life that might have been. I’m glad. For it meant that I lived.

I didn’t give a shit.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted it all – the whole fucking universe!

Nineteen sixty seven was the year I discovered Roy Harper.

The solution to immigration

Posted on by Opher

England, like many developed countries, has too large a population. It also has a very high standard of living compared to most of the world.

Many people in the third world are desperate to get to England and escape the terrible conditions in their own countries. They want a job and a better life for themselves and their children. They risk their lives to get here.

We do not want them here because we have too many people, there is not the infrastructure or facilities and we are concerned that our culture is at risk.

We can put up obstacles to prevent immigration. We can legislate to keep them out. We can fight a xenophobic war against immigrants. We can become racist and fascist.

I have a better solution.

Why don’t the super-rich capitalists refrain from creating poverty in the third world, which they exploit for profit, and enable the whole world to stabilise, educate themselves, restrict their population, develop prosperity and not need to emigrate to survive?

If there wasn’t the huge differential of wealth across the globe there would not be a problem.

Capitalism creates poverty.

Until the selfish and greedy super-rich elite develop empathy and compassion, or there are international laws to restrict their predatory sociopathic tendencies, we will have poverty, war, conflict and misery.

In the midst of plenty most still go hungry…………… It cannot be right.

Magic Band photos from Lincoln 2014 – now on Opher’s World

Posted on by Opher

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Hi

I have put the photos of the incredible Magic Band performance at the Engine Room at Lincoln up on my blog: http://ophersworld.com/

I loved the gig – hope you like the photos!

The Sixties Counter-Culture saved the World!

Posted on by Opher

1950s post-war culture was drab and dreary. Life in Britain was dire with rationing and poverty. The country was littered with bomb-sites and no money to provide the impetus for a renovation to lift the country.

Socially life was equally drab and boring. For boys you wore shorts until you were thirteen and then went into long trousers as a right of passage. At thirteen you became a mini version of your dad. For girls it was even worse. There were strict taboos and dress codes. Life was very linear and stereotyped.

I grew up in the post-war period with the ‘Sword of Damocles’ hanging over our heads in the form of what was accurately called M.A.D – Mutually Assured Destruction. The Soviet Union and the West were at each other’s throats with thousands of nuclear warheads poised. The USA was quite keen to use Britain as a fixed aircraft carrier and there was talk of a limited exchange that would involve a European theatre i.e the USA and bulk of Russia would miss out on the action. Nuclear war did not just seem a possibility but more of an inevitability.

The nearest we got was the ‘Cuban Missile Crisis’. I remember going to school and listening to it in the classroom instead of lessons. The USA had told Russia that if they went over the line of latitude set by the States it would be an act of war and they would attack the ships. That would have been the prelude to the end. We were not sure we were going to get home again.

The 1960s was a period of liberalisation after the stultifying 1950s. Censorship was being relaxed and boundaries were being pushed. There was the Allen Ginsberg ‘Howl’ trial and the DH Lawrence ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ trial.

This was the setting for the Rock Scene to find it’s feet and become the political and social conscience of youth.

Behind the burgeoning Rock Scene was the Counter-Culture sensibilities of the Beat Generation and then the Hippie Movement. While these movements were small in number their effect was enormous. They reached right through the Underground Scene to have a great effect on Popular Culture. Most young people were not part of the Hippie/Beat experience but were affected by it through its manifestation in Pop music and fashion. They might not have heard of Captain Beefheart, Roy Harper, the Grateful Dead, or Edgar Broughton but they had heard the Beatles, Stones, Hendrix and Cream and they were affected by the plastic hippie Flowerpot Men, Scott McKenzie and the Mamas & Papas. They thought London swung and Carnaby Street and Haight-Asbury were the places to be.

The effects of the Hippie movement in San Francisco and the Underground scene in London, Los Angeles and New York, was far reaching. There was an explosion of colour, fun, street theatre, hedonism, marijuana, sexual liberation and rebelliousness tinged with a distrust of the establishment, a civil rights unrest and an anti-war ethic.

It was hip to be young. There was a generation gap like never before. Youth was in revolt, marching in the streets, protesting and fighting for freedoms the previous generation could only dream of. They were pushing back the boundaries. Their musicians were the new leaders. Dylan, Hendrix and Morrison set the tone. The establishment were reeling. There was a camaraderie and sense of the bringing in of a new era.

The effect was felt globally. Youth all over the world saw the excitement and energy of this sixties culture and wanted to be part of it. Psychedelic bands started up all over the globe from Peru to India, Pakistan and Australia as well as all over the Soviet Union. Youth was in harmony with each other and revolt against the status quo. All over the world kids were donning kaftans, flares with scarves and beads, exhorting peace and love and forming bands. They wanted part of the sexual revolution, the liberalisation and fun and were kicking against the repression of the State. The historic animosities broke down. As far as the kids were concerned you were either a Freak or Straight.

Behind the Iron Curtain the youth of Russia were hooked on the Beatles, Stones, Dylan and Hendrix. They wanted Western music, Western jeans and Western freedoms. It led to a breakdown of the division between the East and West. Youth was talking the same language. It signalled the end of the Cold War.

We were not mutually destroyed in a nuclear holocaust. The 1960s counter-culture changed history.

If you want to read more about the 1960s, about the counter-culture or Rock Music then why not visit my blog: http://ophersworld.com/   It’s all there!

Who am I?

Posted on by Opher

Who am I?

I was born in 1949 in the Thames Delta in the deep South outside London. I grew up in the 1960s and was thoroughly immersed in the London scene and counterculture. I was a student through all those heady days and lapped up the idealism and optimism of the times. We knew we were changing the world and bringing new sensibilities to bear. Those were the days that spawned feminism, the green movement, anti-capitalism and civil rights.

I was there through the whole gamut of Rock Music. As a kid I heard Elvis on the radio and then there was the Beatles, Psychedelia and the London Underground, Acid Rock and the West Coast alternative culture, IT, OZ and a thriving Rock scene and cultural tsunami.

I got to see most of the important acts – Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, Cream, Roy Harper, Captain Beefheart, Country Joe & the Fish, Muddy Waters, Pink Floyd, Son House and Bo Diddley – and hosts of others. I went to all the big festivals and events.

The 1960s counter-culture was not a fashion statement; it was a way of life. It looked at the boring establishment, the old-boys network, the stereotypical attire, the joyless lack of creativity, the conventions, religion, politics, blatant selfish greed, exploitation, inherent racism and sexism and looked to create something better. I was part of it.

We stood up for our ideals – the anti-war movement, liberation of sex, and the bringing of freedom and colour into a drab 1950s post-war society.

On a creative front, having discovered that despite my passion, I have no talent for music, I went into the real of writing.

In the 1970s the energy and creativity dropped out. Earning a living loomed and I went into teaching where I stayed true to my ideals. I extolled the virtues of fun, freedom and the joy of creativity. I brought a bit of colour into the profession and did things my way. I must have been successful because I rose up to Headteacher and my school became one of the best in the country. It’s Open, Caring, Friendly ethos was mine and I proved it worked. If you treated young people respectfully and made learning fun everything would work. It did.

During the course of my teaching career I built up a large number of books. I wrote whatever took my fancy. I never wrote for financial gain or to get famous; I wrote what I was interested in, moved by or felt the urge to do. I produced Sci-Fi to alternative fiction and Rock biography and history – whatever I enjoyed. I always harboured a desire to make a living out of writing but was always more than content to be a teacher.

To be a teacher is a privilege. A teacher is the equivalent of the tribes shaman; the holder of wisdom, dispenser of knowledge. I was happy with that.

On the family front I fell in love when I was eighteen and married in a great event in the woods in 1970. We have been together ever since and have four very dynamic, individualistic and vibrant kids who are changing the world in their own ways. They fill me with great love and hope for the future.

I now live in the North of England and continue writing and doing my bit to change the zeitgeist.