Featured Book – In Search of Captain Beefheart – The title

Posted on by Opher

The title was in actual fact –

In Search of Captain Beefheart, Son House, Roy Harper, Woody Guthrie & Bob Dylan

But that was a tad long – even though it did give a fairer view of what the book was about.

It was a book of an endless quest and a series of discoveries as I unknowingly was searching for the holy grail of Rock Music – the best and most exciting acts.

I sure uncovered many a gem. This book is the story of that search and those exciting discoveries.

When Rock ruled I was at the front rockin’, talking to the stars, visiting Abbey Road Studios, going backstage and generally immersing myself in the excitement of it.

Was Rock a matter of life and death? No – it was much more important than that!

If you would like to purchase a copy in either paperback or digital please follow the links below.

 

In the UK:

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502820455/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1532076236&sr=1-1&keywords=In+Search+of+Captain+Beefheart

 

In the USA:

 

https://www.amazon.com/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502820455/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1532076743&sr=8-1&keywords=In+Search+of+Captain+Beefheart

 

Thank you for your purchase and please leave a review.

 

Featured Book – In Search of Captain Beefheart – the Cover

Posted on by Opher

The cover features me and my friend Pete back in the heady days of 1970 when we were at college. It was a hot day and we were playing about with paint and having a loony time.

Liz took a shot of us!

Here is the actual shot:

I thought it was suitable as a cover for the book. It seemed to capture the bright optimism of the times with all its fun and passion. Mad days.

London was a great place to spend the sixties in. Looking back at the psychedelic times it certainly was a time of wonder.

The book tells of all those adventures.

If you would like to purchase a copy in either paperback or digital please follow the links below.

 

In the UK:

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502820455/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1532076236&sr=1-1&keywords=In+Search+of+Captain+Beefheart

 

In the USA:

 

https://www.amazon.com/Search-Captain-Beefheart-Opher-Goodwin/dp/1502820455/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1532076743&sr=8-1&keywords=In+Search+of+Captain+Beefheart

 

Thank you for your purchase and please leave a review.

 

Who Am I?

Posted on by Opher

Who am I?

I am a prolific writer of Science Fiction, Rock Music and alternative style semi-autobiographical books and fiction. I have written 60 books. If you’re looking for something different then you have found it! Just buy one from Amazon and see!

 

My influences include Henry Miller, Jack Kerouac, Captain Beefheart, Allen Ginsberg, Christopher Hitchins, Roy Harper, Bob Dylan, Margaret Atwood, Woody Guthrie and Kurt Vonnegut Jnr.

 

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 counter-culture. 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 Little Richard 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.

 

Then came Punk and the music went on and on and on……

 

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

 

In the 1970s the energy and creativity dropped out of the counter-culture. 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 1971. 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. My five grandchildren are growing up and are enthusiastic, loving citizens of the world.

 

I believe in equality, tolerance, justice and freedom. I respect other people’s points of view and do not expect people to share the same beliefs as me. I work in my own way to produce a positive zeitgeist and would like to live in a world where there is harmony between people and respect for the environment.

 

I deplore violence, fanaticism, war, coercion and intolerance.

 

I love smiles, love, argument and beauty in all its many forms.

 

I am enraged and saddened by what we are doing to the natural world through the pressure of our numbers, pollution and destruction of habitat. I am saddened that so many simply do not care about the destruction of nature that is going on around the world and, for political reasons, deny what is so obviously taking place.

 

I want to see a compassionate society where the weak, the ill and needy are cared for.

 

I want to see a more equal society that looks after everybody. Where someone who is ill can get treatment, someone who is starving can get food, someone who is old is looked after and someone who is homeless is housed.

 

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

 

I do not want to see a greedy, selfish society based on privilege – where the wealthy run things for their own benefit and many are left in desperation.

The Golden Age of Rock Music.

Posted on by Opher

I count myself extremely lucky to have lived through the golden age of Rock Music. From the early sixties to the early seventies there was a great scene going and you could see anyone. That was the golden period for me.

In 1964 I was fifteen and embarked upon my love affair with live Rock Music – something that has lasted to this day.

My first gig was the British Birds with Ron Wood (later of the Stones and Smallfaces). For the princely sum of 22p I got to stand in front of the stage at the Walton Hop at the Playhouse while they blew me away. I followed that up the following week with the original Them with Van Morrison. They were awesome.

That wasn’t a bad way to get your feet in the water! I was hooked.

By the late sixties I was eighteen, had a motorbike so could get around, lived in London and so was going to at least three gigs a week. I lived for live music and there was so much to see.

I frequented places like UFO, Middle Earth, Eel Pie Island, Les Cousins, the Marquee, the Toby Jug, Klooks Kleek and a range of Folk Clubs, pubs and colleges. The Underground Scene was burgeoning. I was into Folk, Blues, West Coast Acid Rock, Psychedelia, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Progressive and Folkrock.  I had discovered Roy Harper (at least one gig a week) and Captain Beefheart.

It seemed to me that everyone was on all the time. You simply checked out the gigs in the NME or Time Out and decided who to go to see. There was so much choice it was ridiculous.

My favourites were Bob Dylan, Captain Beefheart, Country Joe and the Fish, Pink Floyd, Nice, Family, Doors, Hendrix, Cream, Traffic, Jefferson Airplane, Fleetwood Mac, Chicken Shack, Jethro Tull, Fairport Convention, Edgar Broughton, Frank Zappa, Who, Jackson C Frank, Free, Pretty Things, Led Zeppelin, John Lennon,  Incredible String Band, Beatles, Stones, Arthur Brown  and, of course Roy Harper.

All of them were playing, along with loads of others, and it was just a question of who to go to see. On top of that the old rockers like Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry and Little Richard were touring and the Blues guys like Howlin’ Wolf, Jimmy Reed, Muddy Waters and Hound Dog Taylor popped up. I was lucky enough to catch Son House, Bukka White, Big Joe Williams and Skip James. Then there were the rump of the Beat groups with old favourites like the Downliners Sect and Nashville Teens. Then there were the Folkies – Fairport Convention, Davey Graham, Stefan Grossman, John Fahey, Bert Jansch, John Renbourn. You simply could not get to see them all. I missed a few.

We were just spoilt for choice. There were free concerts and festivals. You could wander backstage and talk to the band. You met up with friends and made new friends. It was hectic. It was mad and it was hugely exciting and enjoyable.

We thought it would last forever. So many people I didn’t get to see because I figured I’d catch them next time and sometimes next time didn’t come around.

There were magic moments standing in small clubs while Jimmy Page and Robert Plant blasted you with the force of early Led Zep, watching the amazing Hendrix close up, watching Peter Green mesmerise in John Mayall and then with Fleetwood Mac, seeing Captain Beefheart at his peak with his wonderfully powerful voice and amazing band, seeing Jim Morrison do his theatrics in the Roundhouse, listening to the delicate melodies of Jackson C Frank, watching Clapton up close as Cream performed, marvelling at the guitarwork of Davey Graham, Bert Jansch and John Renbourn, Hearing Sandy Denny and Joni Mitchell sing, the harmonies of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, watching the amazing lightshow and fabulous music of Pink Floyd in the UFO Club, standing in a small pub in front of Paul Kossof as Free blasted us, watching the Stones in Hyde Park, and of course, being ravaged by the power of Roy Harper blasting his poetic songs with such verve and angst.

I don’t know how I had time to do anything else and still I managed to get a degree. It saddens me that I missed so many acts that I’d give anything to see now.

I never got to see the Beatles, John Lennon, Bob Dylan (before the crash) or Howlin’ Wolf. And I could have done. I kick myself.

Apart from the wonder of seeing top artists playing in small clubs there were other factors. There was a brilliant social scene. The Underground was a community of Freaks with idealistic and creative values. I made some great friends. Then it was cheap. There were numerous free festivals. it cost between 10p and 25p to get into the clubs. An all-nighter with four or five top bands would be around 50p. A three day festival – like the Reading Blues Festival or Woburn Abbey was around £1.50p. It wasn’t going to break the bank.

It was miles away from the big stadium scene that came in the seventies. When you had seen Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin for a maximum of 25p in a small intimate club why would you splash out £10 to see them in a lousy stadium?

Well it was a different experience wasn’t it? As sound systems and screens got better it became an event worth going to – but it wasn’t the same. Not the steamy bouncing hot sweaty clubs.

These days I am still gigging. I like my small club experience with bands like the Fall, Arthur Brown, Loudhailer Electric Company, the Magic Band, Love, The Mississippi Allstars, Blockheads, Stiff Little Fingers, Wilko Johnson, Sharks, John Otway, Billy Bragg, Lee Perry, Nick Harper, White Stripes, Jake Bugg, John Cooper Clarke and the like. I even do stadiums with the Who and Bob Dylan.

I’ve got used to the prices but a lot of the guys have been dying off lately and I don’t take to a lot of the new stuff. I’m a bit of a dinosaur. But I did get to see most people during those golden days back in the sixties. Those are the days that I enjoyed most!!

PS – the only other brilliant time was Punk and the brilliant energy of the Stranglers, Sex Pistols, Ian Dury, Elvis Costello, Buzzcocks, Clash, Doctors of Madness, Stiff Little Fingers and all those other geniuses!! I bounced around with the best.

Right there at the front. That’s where it jumps!!

Long live Rock!!! Here’s to the next wave!!!

 

 

Tear the Fascists Down – Woody Guthrie

Posted on by Opher

In this dark time with the rise of fascism all around it seems that we need a new generation of brave men like Woody Guthrie to stand up against those who would cause division and hatred.

We have a cyberspace full of abusive bullying trolls, fascists marching on the streets again and hard right leaders in power.

Time to tear these fascists down! The fight is still going on around the world tonight.

Tear the Fascists Down – Woody Guthrie

There’s a great and a bloody fight ’round this whole world tonight
And the battle, the bombs and shrapnel reign
Hitler told the world around he would tear our union down
But our union’s gonna break them slavery chains
Our union’s gonna break them slavery chains

I walked up on a mountain in the middle of the sky
Could see every farm and every town
I could see all the people in this whole wide world
That’s the union that’ll tear the fascists down, down, down
That’s the union that’ll tear the fascists down

When I think of the men and the ships going down
While the Russians fight on across the Don
There’s London in ruins and Paris in chains
Good people, what are we waiting on?
Good people, what are we waiting on?

So, I thank the Soviets and the mighty Chinese vets
The Allies the whole wide world around
To the battling British, thanks, you can have ten million Yanks
If it takes ’em to tear the fascists down, down, down
If it takes ’em to tear the fascists down

But when I think of the ships and the men going down
And the Russians fight on across the Don
There’s London in ruins and Paris in chains
Good people, what are we waiting on?
Good people, what are we waiting on?

So I thank the Soviets and the mighty Chinese vets
The Allies the whole wide world around
To the battling British, thanks, you can have ten million Yanks
If it takes ’em to tear the fascists down, down, down
If it takes ’em to tear the fascists down

source: https://www.lyricsondemand.com/w/woodyguthrielyrics/tearthefascistsdownlyrics.html

James Varda – This Train Is Lost

Posted on by Opher

James summarises a lot of what I feel particularly after these last couple of years.

This train – the whole of our corrupt culture – is certainly lost. We are being led by a lot of greedy, selfish hypocrites.

Back in the sixties we felt we were building something better. We were dropping out of this empty culture and replacing it with something less destructive and more meaningful.

This Train Is Lost

I’m going to move to another country
Find myself a new name
I’m going to wake up
And shed this skin
I never have felt at home
Anywhere I’ve been
I’m getting off this train
I ain’t gonna ride this train no more

How much is nothing?
How far is nowhere?
They’ll sell you a map
But you’ll never get there
I don’t know what I want
But I know it’s not this
If I pulled love out
The world would cease to exist

I’m getting off this train
I ain’t gonna ride this train no more

Well there’s no danger
Everything is very sure
You get up in the morning
And you walk out the door
All this repetition
That tries to strangle hope
I’m going to chart an unknown river
In a porcelain boat

I’m getting off this train
I ain’t gonna ride this train no more
This train is lost

Chimes of Freedom – Bob Dylan by the Byrds

Posted on by Opher

Rarely has a song captured such great poetry and imagery – to look at a thunderstorm as a mystical display put on for the benefit of numerous underdogs.

Where on earth is there a poetic songwriter of the magnitude of a young Dylan who can articulate the injustices for the present generation and awaken their sensibilities.

Are we all doomed to wallow in shallowness? Someone surely needs to step forward to save us.

“Chimes Of Freedom”

Far between sundown’s finish an’ midnight’s broken toll
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing
Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight
An’ for each an’ ev’ry underdog soldier in the night
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

In the city’s melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
With faces hidden as the walls were tightening
As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin’ rain
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning
Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned an’ forsaked
Tolling for the outcast, burnin’ constantly at stake
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder
Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
An’ the poet an the painter far behind his rightful time
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

In the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for granted situations
Tolling for the deaf an’ blind, tolling for the mute
For the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased an’ cheated by pursuit
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Even though a clouds’s white curtain in a far-off corner flashed
An’ the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
An’ for each unharmfull, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

Starry-eyed an’ laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time an’ we watched with one last look
Spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

 

Thank You To All Those People Who Have Bought And Read My Books!

Posted on by Opher

 

Thank You To All Those People Who Have Bought And Read My Books!

 

Thank you everyone who has purchased one of my books and particular thanks to those who have left a review. You give me a thrill!

 

If you are one of the people who has just read one of my books and enjoyed it please take the time to leave a review on Amazon. It means a lot to me.

 

If you would like to purchase one of my books, in paperback or as a digital download, they can all be found on Amazon.

 

There are books on Rock Music, Science Fiction, Beat Poetry, Novels, Education and the Environment. Something for all tastes.

 

Why not take a look!!

 

In the UK:

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_5?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=opher+goodwin&sprefix=opher%2Caps%2C145&crid=3JEML1BN0N06W

 

In the USA:

 

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=sr_pg_1?rh=n%3A283155%2Ck%3AOpher+Goodwin&keywords=Opher+Goodwin&ie=UTF8&qid=1523115307

 

Thank you!!

Robert Johnson – One of the Founding Fathers of Modern Music.

Posted on by Opher

We can trace back the history of most modern Pop and Rock to its roots in African Music through Blues that originated in the Delta region of the United States.

That style of music, using African rhythms with western instruments, originated around the turn of the 20th century.

By the 1930s it was being recorded and one of the leading exponents was Robert Johnson. He was only 27 years old when he died and recorded only 29 songs along with 13 alternative takes in two recording sessions. The first session took place in a hotel room in San Antonio in 1936 and the second in an impromptu studio in Dallas in 1937. Yet those tracks have become legendary and fed not just into Blues but Rock too. No end of big acts have covered his songs, including the likes of Cream. Captain Beefheart and the Rolling Stones, and no end of others have been directly or indirectly influenced.

Much has been made of Robert’s revolutionary guitar style. Some even go to the extent of suggesting the recordings have been speeded up because it is so difficult to play. What cannot be denied is the quality of the songs and the impact they have had.

Unfortunately Robert was never heard by a white audience. In 1938 John Hammond, not knowing of his death, tried to get hold of Robert Johnson to appear at Carnegie Hall in the First of his Spirituals to Swing concerts. Just imagine if Robert had not been murdered and that had concert had happened? They replaced him with Big Bill Broonzy who gained some notoriety in Europe. Robert might have recorded a lot more and even tour Europe.

But it isn’t just the musical legacy that is so captivating. A whole mythology sprang up around him – probably because so little is actually know about the man.

Son House claims to have taught him the rudiments of the guitar and been amazed by his progress. Seemingly he disappeared for a while and returned with this amazing ability. That led to all the tales of him having sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads.

Then there were the stories of his strange death. He was reported to have crawled around howling like a dog. There are many doubts as to the poison used. Someone even claimed that it was syphilis that he died of.

There are also many versions of the night he was poisoned. Was he playing with Dave ‘Honeyboy’ Edwards or Sonny Boy Williamson or both?

Finally there are many versions as to where he was buried. While in Mississippi I visited all three.

This is one of those graves.

This is the grave that Dave Honeyboy Edwards says is the real grave.

That is the grave away in the distance in a field at the back of the church.

Probably it was somewhere unmarked. He was put in a paupers grave and that was most likely to have been left without any markings whatsoever and very difficult to remember its exact location years later. Some say it was under a tree. Who knows for sure?

The important thing is that he is being recognised for what he achieved.

Below is the plaque that Eric Clapton had erected to Robert’s memory in Hazlehurst – his place of birth.

The story of the devil and the crossroads was a recurring theme in old blues stories. Back before lights, in those rural settings, it must have been dark and scary out on those country roads of Highway 61. The imagination can produce all manner of tricks.

I’m playing my old vinyl album – King of the Delta Blues Singers – and thinking of Robert Johnson and what might have been.

Dave Honeyboy Edwards – An Historic Event!

Posted on by Opher

I count myself exceedingly lucky to have seen Dave ‘Honeyboy’ Edwards in 2009. It is always a great event to see an old original from that magic era of the seminal Delta Blues. Dave was never one of my favourites but he had a great and interesting life, produced some good music and was present at seminal moments in history. He was 94 years old when I saw him and still going strong. During the gig he told us about his life back as an itinerant musician playing the jukes and bars back in the thirties and the night he was playing in a tavern in Greenwood Mississippi with Robert Johnson the night he was poisoned. His tale was that Robert, who was a bit of a ladies man, was making eyes at the Landlord’s wife. The Landlord plied them with whisky and probably put rat poison (strychnine) in that whisky. Dave says he told Robert not to drink it because that was quite a common trick at the time but Robert did anyway. Robert went home with a bad stomach ache but nobody thought it was that serious. He was shocked that he had died from it.

Seeing Dave was quite ironic. I had just returned from going around Mississippi looking at the old Blues sites and hadn’t manage to find any Blues being played anywhere. On coming back I found T-Model Ford playing in York and discovered I had walked right past his house (with him likely in his front room) in Clarksdale the week before. The next week Dave was playing in Sheffield.

While in Mississippi I had looked at three possible sites where Robert Johnson was supposed to have been buried.

I had an opportunity to have a short conversation with Dave after the show and he told me that it was the grave behind church and that he’d been there when they’d buried him.

The Blues is the basis of all modern music. We owe a great debt to people like Dave ‘Honeboy’ Edwards. They’ve enriched our lives.