Chapter 22: Psychedelic Rock
The Grateful Dead
Before gaining widespread recognition, the band that would become the Grateful Dead performed as the Warlocks and served as the house band for Ken Kesey’s Acid Tests. By 1965, after learning another band had already claimed the name Warlocks, they adopted the name Grateful Dead. The original lineup consisted of Jerry Garcia (guitar, vocals), Bob Weir (guitar, vocals), Phil Lesh (bass), Ron "Pigpen" McKernan (keyboards, vocals), and Bill Kreutzmann (drums), with Mickey Hart later joining as a second drummer. According to band lore, Garcia discovered the name “Grateful Dead” in a folklore dictionary, where it described a spirit who rewards a traveler for a selfless act—a fitting symbol for the band’s mystical, improvisational identity and communal ethos.
Within the Acid Test environment, their music grew louder, more intense, and increasingly focused on extended improvisation, incorporating electronic effects like distortion and feedback. These experimental sounds deeply resonated with Acid Test audiences, but by mid-1966 the Acid Tests came to an end when Kesey fled to Mexico following drug possession charges. Undeterred, the band continued their journey, living communally in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury district and immersing themselves in the neighborhood’s cultural and political life. They played free concerts in Golden Gate Park and appeared at nearly every major countercultural gathering of the era including the Trips Festival, the Love Pageant Rally, and the Human Be-In. These public performances expanded their role from performers to facilitators of shared, transformative experiences within the wider countercultural movement.
Musically, the Grateful Dead were emblematic of the larger San Francisco sound: a blend of psychedelic experimentation with folk, blues, jazz, and country influences. This sound featured extended instrumental passages, innovative use of electronic effects such as feedback and distortion, and a strong emphasis on improvisation. Lyrics grew more explicit in their drug references, reflecting the counterculture’s embrace of altered states. Concerts were notable for their immersive atmosphere and overwhelming volume, enabled by advances in amplification technology. Audiences often dressed in colorful, elaborate fashions, transforming shows into multi-sensory experiences where music, visual style, and consciousness converged.
The Dead’s 1967 self-titled debut album featured blues-based psychedelic rock songs like “The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion),” capturing the communal spirit of the era but is largely considered an unimpressive release. The following year, Anthem of the Sun marked a significant artistic step forward by blending live and studio recordings into a layered sonic collage. A centerpiece of the album, the multipart suite “That’s It for the Other One,” exemplifies the band’s early experimental style. The suite consists of four sections: “Cryptical Envelopment,” “Quodlibet for Tender Feet,” “The Faster We Go, the Rounder We Get,” and “We Leave the Castle.” Each offers distinct musical and lyrical elements that together form a rich, expansive composition.
“Cryptical Envelopment,” written by Garcia, opens with a haunting, bluesy melody and surreal lyrics, setting a mysterious tone. This leads into “Quodlibet for Tender Feet,” a brief instrumental interlude with shifting rhythms. “The Faster We Go, the Rounder We Get” channels psychedelic rock energy and features lyrics referencing Ken Kesey’s bus Further and its driver Neal Cassady:
“The bus came by and I got on, that's when it all began,
There was cowboy Neal at the wheel of the bus to never ever land.”
Its chorus includes rhythmic irregularity on “Comin’ around in a circle,” suggesting disorientation. The music intensifies with layered guitars and dynamic drumming, capturing the restless spirit of the time. The final section, “We Leave the Castle,” revisits earlier themes and closes with extended instrumental passages enriched by electronic effects like delay and feedback, creating immersive, swirling soundscapes.
Unlike many mainstream rock acts that prioritized concise radio-friendly studio recordings and crafting chart hits, the Grateful Dead were more focused on their live performances and approached each concert as a living, evolving work. Songs shifted nightly, often flowing seamlessly through marathon sets. Jerry Garcia’s guitar solos emphasized lyrical phrasing and measured pacing over technical virtuosity, while the band incorporated electronic feedback, tape effects, and global musical influences into their ongoing sonic experimentation. Their live performances fully embodied the improvisational spirit of the San Francisco sound, with long exploratory jams that blurred the boundaries between composition and spontaneity. A signature piece, “Dark Star,” frequently extended beyond an hour, serving as a vessel for collective musical exploration. At the same time, tracks like “Uncle John’s Band” and “Ripple” from their 1970 album American Beauty reflected a turn toward more acoustic, structured songwriting while preserving the band’s characteristic lyrical mysticism.
Technological innovation further shaped their live presence. In 1974, the band unveiled the “Wall of Sound,” a massive speaker array positioned behind them that amplified each instrument with remarkable clarity and minimized feedback. This breakthrough allowed audiences in large venues to fully experience the subtle dynamics of the Dead’s extended improvisations at high volume, paving the way for larger concerts and the rise of arena rock.
Though many bands chased commercial success through chart-topping singles, the Dead remained steadfastly focused on live performance throughout the 1960s. Despite reaching peak popularity in the late 1960s, they never scored a Top 40 hit. Their albums sold steadily but modestly, reflecting their identity as a concert band rather than a studio-focused act. Known for marathon shows often exceeding five hours—including free concerts—they famously transported their equipment to Egypt in 1978 at considerable expense to perform a benefit concert at the Great Pyramids. This commitment helped forge a deep bond between the band and their fans, known as Deadheads, forming an extended community united by musical exploration and shared experience.
This communal ethos fostered a devoted following. Many Deadheads traveled extensively to attend multiple shows, creating a mobile nomadic subculture. The band’s policy of permitting audience taping generated a vast unofficial archive of live recordings, documenting the band’s evolution and deepening fan engagement. For many, attending a Dead concert became a spiritual practice in its own right.
Over more than three decades, the Grateful Dead’s music continued to evolve. Albums such as Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty embraced folk and Americana traditions, while Blues for Allah (1975) returned to more experimental, jazz-inflected territory. Their only Top 10 hit, “Touch of Grey” from 1987’s In the Dark, brought commercial success late in their career without compromising their core approach. After Jerry Garcia’s death in 1995, surviving members carried the band’s legacy forward through various configurations.
Today, the Grateful Dead’s influence extends well beyond music. Their extensive discography remains beloved, and revival acts like Dead and Company continue to draw large audiences at prominent venues such as the Sphere in Las Vegas. The band’s iconic visual symbols—dancing bears, skull motifs, and tie-dye patterns—have become enduring fixtures of American popular culture.
Janis Joplin
San Francisco in the late 1960s was a vibrant cultural hub, attracting transplants from across the country drawn to its flourishing countercultural and musical scenes. Janis Joplin was among these newcomers. Born in Port Arthur, Texas, in 1943, she grew up immersed in blues, gospel, and country music. Joplin’s early influences included artists such as Bessie Smith, Lead Belly, and Big Mama Thornton. Growing up in a conservative Southern town sharpened the rebellious edge she would later bring to her performances. By the mid-1960s, she had relocated to San Francisco and quickly became a prominent figure in the Haight-Ashbury scene.
Her first major breakthrough came when promoter Chet Helms invited her to sit in with Big Brother and the Holding Company, a local band he managed. Joplin’s blues-inflected voice distinguished her immediately, and she soon joined as lead vocalist. Their performance at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival brought national attention and secured a contract with Columbia Records. The group’s 1968 album Cheap Thrills reached number one on the Billboard charts, remaining there for eight weeks. It included powerful versions of Erma Franklin’s “Piece of My Heart” and Big Mama Thornton’s “Ball and Chain,” the latter reintroducing Thornton’s work to a new audience.
Musically, Joplin’s vocal style was deeply rooted in the blues but refracted through a rock framework shaped by the psychedelic culture of the era. She bent pitches, distorted her vocal tone, and shifted between intimate whispers and sudden shouts. Her recording of Gershwin’s “Summertime” on Cheap Thrills blended operatic phrasing with raw blues timbre. At times, she employed extreme vocal strain to produce multiphonics, creating the effect of singing multiple pitches simultaneously.
On stage, Joplin’s performances were electrifying and raw, characterized by an intense physicality. She used dynamic shifts in volume and timbre to heighten emotional impact, moving from fragile softness to powerful, guttural screams within a single song. Joplin often improvised phrasing spontaneously, using rhythmic flexibility to echo the emotional narrative of the lyrics. Her movements were uninhibited as she danced, swayed, and at times collapsed on stage. This unfiltered expressiveness, combined with her direct engagement with the audience, created a visceral, cathartic experience that influenced many other singers that came after her.
Although one of the few women in 1960s rock to achieve both commercial and critical success, Joplin remained an outsider. Her engagement with African American musical traditions contrasted with her predominantly white audience, and her records never appeared on R&B charts. She served as a conduit between blues, soul, and rock, using her voice and commanding stage presence to challenge conventional performance norms. Joplin modeled much of her vocal style and stagecraft on pioneering singers such as Big Mama Thornton, Bessie Smith, and Lead Belly. Yet, as a white woman performing styles rooted in black musical traditions, she navigated complex dynamics of race and authenticity. While she openly paid homage to these artists, her performances raised questions about cultural appropriation and the challenges white performers faced when interpreting “blackness” in music. Despite these tensions, Joplin’s deep commitment to the blues and her emotional delivery helped her transcend simple categorization.
In 1969, seeking greater technical precision than Big Brother and the Holding Company could provide, Joplin formed the Kozmic Blues Band. Their album I Got Dem Ol’ Kozmic Blues Again Mama! featured songs like “Try (Just a Little Bit Harder)” and “Kozmic Blues,” both marked by gospel-inflected phrasing and sustained emotional tension. The following year, she assembled the Full Tilt Boogie Band, which backed her on her final recordings.
Her posthumous 1971 album Pearl included the hit “Me and Bobby McGee,” written by Kris Kristofferson, as well as “Move Over,” a driving rocker with gospel overtones. It also featured “My Baby,” in triple meter with organ textures and gospel cadences, and “Mercedes Benz,” a satirical a cappella reflection on materialism delivered with humor and punctuated by laughter. Recorded shortly before her death from a heroin overdose on October 4, 1970, at age 27, these tracks captured an artist expressing a wide emotional range from ironic detachment to vulnerable confession.
The Jefferson Airplane
Like the Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane emerged from San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury neighborhood as one of the defining bands of the city’s psychedelic scene, and they were the first from that milieu to achieve national success. Formed in 1965 by vocalist Marty Balin, the band began as a semi-acoustic folk-rock act, performing blues numbers and songs by Bob Dylan. Balin, who managed a small club called The Matrix on upper Fillmore Street, recruited guitarists Paul Kantner and Jorma Kaukonen along with vocalist Signe Toly Anderson to serve as the house band. This venue was a key gathering place in San Francisco’s alternative nightclub circuit and helped the band build its early following.
The group’s sound quickly evolved toward a louder, harder-edged style that emphasized open song forms, extended instrumental improvisation, and lyrics reflecting the expanding consciousness of the era. They became fixtures at major local venues such as the Fillmore Auditorium and Avalon Ballroom, and took part in outdoor happenings and be-ins. In late 1965, Jefferson Airplane became the first Haight-Ashbury band to sign with a major label, RCA Victor, which offered them a $20,000 advance. Though some within the counterculture rejected commercial ties, this deal inspired a wave of new Bay Area psychedelic bands eager to follow their lead.
The band’s 1966 debut, Jefferson Airplane Takes Off, achieved modest sales. Soon after, Anderson left and was replaced by Grace Slick, formerly of the Great Society. Slick brought two songs that would transform the band’s fortunes: “Somebody to Love” and “White Rabbit.” Joined by Jack Casady on bass and Spencer Dryden on drums, the group recorded Surrealistic Pillow (1967). The album reached number three on the charts and produced their only two Top 40 hits—“Somebody to Love” (No. 5) and “White Rabbit” (No. 8)—which brought them international recognition.
“White Rabbit” blends imagery from Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland with the psychedelic ethos, using the story as an allegory for expanded perception. The song’s bolero-inspired rhythm—a slow, steady pattern in the drums and bass characteristic of the traditional Spanish dance—modal harmonies, and gradual build reflect the influence of jazz trumpeter Miles Davis’s Sketches of Spain, which Slick credited as a key inspiration during an LSD trip. The lyrics draw parallels between Carroll’s fantastical images and the hallucinogenic effects of psychedelic drugs, a connection reinforced by heavy electronic reverberation on the vocals. The song’s continuous crescendo, subtle tempo increase, and vocal shift from low to high register build intensity throughout. Slick’s vocal power and stage presence challenged prevailing expectations for women in rock, then largely associated with softer styles like doo-wop or Motown. The song’s closing exhortation to “feed your head” became an emblematic phrase of the countercultural era.
Following Surrealistic Pillow, the Airplane moved away from Top 40 conventions. After Bathing at Baxter’s (1967) reached the Top 20 despite producing no singles, reflecting the band’s and the San Francisco scene’s reluctance to cater to mainstream radio. Crown of Creation (1968) balanced straightforward rock with folk-inflected textures, as in Slick’s “Lather,” alongside experimental tracks like “Chushingura,” which combined piano, acoustic guitar, feedback, and unconventional percussion using suspended steel balls.
After a 1968 European tour, the band released Bless Its Pointed Little Head, a live album that showcased their improvisational abilities, including an extended version of “Plastic Fantastic Lover.” Their final album of the decade, Volunteers (1969), featured overt political commentary in songs like the title track and “We Can Be Together.” These songs addressed central themes of the 1960s counterculture such as opposition to the Vietnam War, social justice, and collective action.
“We Can Be Together.” was especially controversial for its lyrical content, which included the phrase “Up against the wall motherfucker.” Paul Kantner borrowed the line from the Black Panther Party, who had used it as a rallying cry. Another provocative phrase, “tear down the walls,” was adapted from a Fred Neil album title and could be interpreted either as a call for violent rebellion or as a metaphor for dismantling social and political barriers.
Much of the song’s lyrical material came directly from underground activism. Kantner drew from a leaflet written by John Sundstrom of the anarchist collective Up Against the Wall Motherfucker—a Dadaist and Situationist group active in New York City that tied itself to the anti–Vietnam War movement. In fact, the song’s lyrics, “We are all outlaws in the eyes of America,” was lifted almost word-for-word from Sundstrom’s pamphlet, making the track an explicit channel for radical politics.
The boldness of “We Can Be Together’s” political rhetoric was not confined to its lyrics. When Jefferson Airplane performed the song on The Dick Cavett Show in August 1969, they sang the word “fuck” uncensored, marking the first time the expletive had been broadcast on U.S. television. Through such moments, Jefferson Airplane tied their music directly to the broader social movements of the 1960s. Their songs urged listeners toward resistance and communal engagement, fusing art with activism in ways that captured the confrontational spirit of the time.
By the early 1970s, creative and personal tensions fractured the group, but their influence carried forward through offshoots like Jefferson Starship. The latter first appeared with the 1970 release of Blows Against the Empire, a Kantner-led project featuring contributions from Slick, Casady, Jerry Garcia, David Crosby, and Graham Nash. It also introduced “Papa” John Creach, a Black violinist known for amplifying his instrument since the 1940s.
When Marty Balin rejoined in 1975, Jefferson Starship scored a No. 1 album with Red Octopus and a No. 3 single, “Miracles.” Over time, both Slick and Balin departed, leaving Kantner as the sole founding member. In 1984, a legal dispute over the band’s name led them to shorten it to Starship, under which they achieved several chart-topping singles during the late 1980s.
One of Starship’s most notable songs was “We Built This City” (1985), which became a commercial hit despite mixed critical reception. The song reflects on the tensions between corporate commercialism and rock music’s rebellious roots—a paradox that mirrored the band’s own transformation from countercultural pioneers to mainstream pop-rock artists. While the lyrics evoke a nostalgic defense of rock’s spirit and community, the polished production and pop sensibility marked a significant departure from the more experimental and politically charged music of Jefferson Airplane’s earlier years.
Although later reunions of Jefferson Airplane occurred, none matched the cultural and artistic impact of their late-1960s work, when they stood alongside the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin as central figures in San Francisco’s acid rock movement.