For those of you who said you wanted to share more of my memories of the Isle of Wight festivals - So, Randy: THE SUMMER OF '69 AND THE SECOND COMING If, 1970 was about THE FESTIVAL, 1969 was about only one thing: the near-miraculous reappearance of Bob Dylan. It is difficult to believe now the media hype that surrounded the event, but imagine, if you will, that it had been discovered, three years later, that John Lennon hadn't actually died in the shooting incident, and that The Beatles were going to give an open-air comeback concert. THAT's how big it was. I, like every other youngster in England at that time, got caught up in the hype and I wasn't even a big Dylan fan: I preferred Joni, even then. The poster that had come free with her new album, "Clouds", had pride of place on my bedroom wall. There were a couple of Dylan songs that I liked, however, and I wanted to see this legendary, god-like figure play them. They were his new song, "Lay Lady Lay" and what has continued to be my all-time Dylan favourite, "She Belongs to Me". But, even that I had originally only become familiar with through a cover-version by the British rock group, Nice. I'd hoped to go to the Festival with my grilfiend of that summer: the first serious one of my life. She looked a bit like Jacqui Mc Shee, the lead singer of Pentangle: she had the long straight, blonde hair with the centre-parting, that so many girls seemed to have at that time, and a kink in her nose that made me crazy about girls with kinks in their noses for years afterwards. She was 22 and had an Austin Cambridge. I'd lied to her and told her I was 18. She told me I had the face of an angel and I was fascinated by her womanliness. But, a week before the Festival, she'd quietly left me - I hadn't known enough about sex, or anything, to keep her. Funny thing is, I still carry the scent of her body with me, 32 years later, as clearly as if she were in the room with me now. So, I went to the Festival with my best friend, Richard. I used to go round his house a lot to listen to his copies of "Sergeant Pepper's.." and "Wheels of Fire", and that summer we'd smoked our first joint together in the field opposite his house. We took the ferry from Southampton. It was packed with people trying to look cool in a variety of kaftans, afghan coats, hipster flares , kinky boots, and those funny miniature-lensed make-believe sunglasses that perched below your eyes., and some from London who really were (cool, I mean). Richard told me that from now on I should tell everybody his name was Rick. I remember travelling slowly down a country lane in a colourful cavalcade of Dylan pilgrims: some on double-decker buses, a few in mini cars and a lot on foot. We had weekend tickets. I think they'd cost two pounds and ten shillings. The Saturday was my 17th birthday and, to quote Joni, "I felt unfettered and alive." We spent all day inside the arena that had been set up in the fields of Wootton Farm, amongst the biggest crowd I'd ever seen in my life: perhaps we really were going to take over the world. Marsha Hunt's afro is one of the clearest images that stays with me from that first day. I also recall a band called Fat Mattress and Joe Cocker's rasping screams, but most of all I remember the Moody Blues, playing "Nights in White Satin." How beautiful that was. That night we slept under a hedge that smelled of urine. It was very dark and I felt cold. But, I comforted myself with the fact that the following day, I was actually going to witness the Second Coming, so it seemed worth it. Perhaps because my senses were so sharpened by anticipation, I can clearly remember every performance that Sunday. Early on, there was the acoustic weirdness of the Third Ear Band that was just too way out for me, and I didn't find the stange sounds of Indo-Jazz Fusions, led by Calcutta-born violinist, John Mayer, much easier to comprehend either. Surprisingly, and perhaps because he had the prime, mid-afternoon slot, about 3pm as I recall, the one performance that really lifted the 100,000 crowd was that of folksinger, Tom Paxton. I've heard he still remembers that day as the greatest triumph of his life. I think the highlight was a humorous song called "Forest Lawn". It seemed to break the ice and got everyone laughing and smiling. Pentangle were great, as usual. They were my favourite group at the time. Julie Felix, a sort of English version of Joan Baez went down OK, but wasn't considered cool enough to really dig. Richie Havens, however, was another story. He was BRILLIANT. He really rocked our socks off, and we went wild. Then, I seem to recall, there was a long interval when they just played records. Night had fallen and the anticipation for the Second Coming was reaching fever pitch. I remember wondering whether or not this legendary figure that hadn't been seen in England for years would really, really appear on that empty stage. Then the Band appeared minus Dylan. Who were they anyway, I thought - just his backing group. At that time they'd only had one record released and they didn't have that cool, West Coast, soft rock sound that we'd come to expect from American bands like Jefferson Airplane. They seemed to play forever, and still there was no sign of Dylan. OK, that's probably already too much for one e-mail message, so I'd better stop. Please,let me know if it's getting too personal. I did warn you that I thought that I could write pages about those festivals, and I've discovered that I can! Ian
