Everybody in the group works against someone. Jack and Jorma, Spencer and Paul. When the Beatles were at the height of their popularity, it was more of a group sound. Something was expected from each man. They didn't have the ego hassles that we have. Maybe that's because today's group members' are better musicians. Each of us has had a lot of background in traditional blues and folk. The old rock 'n' roll musicians learned to play from listening to the Top 40.
Somebody To Love is over. Marty walks forward and picks a book off of one of the front tables, "The Autobiography of Lenny Bruce." "I just bought a copy this afternoon," he tells the book's owner. He turns to the rhythm guitar player, "Hey, Paul, look at this." Paul says "Yeah, it's a great book."
No, I'm not a hippy as most people think of it. That's just a newspaper term, a label. I'm not a typical Haight-Ashbury resident, hanging around the city and drawing chalk pictures on the sidewalk. We used to be that way, though, two years ago when we weren't working. In one sense, though, we are hippies. This involves reshaping your head, being more outside the establishment than anti-establishment. It is a more positive thing than the militants at Berkeley, who bore me intensely.
They begin to reassemble in the center of the stage for the second number. Marty says goodbye to the blond in the fifth row. Paul and Spencer leave their drinks on the bass amplifier. Then somebody in the audience shouts out "Why don't you ever play My Best Friend?" Nobody seems to have heard the request and Jorma and Jack continue tuning their guitars.
Although we did it well, it is not us. Too ticky-tacky and rah-tata-ta. We are more clang, zip, boom. I think we're heavier--at least we're louder.
They are just about ready. Paul, in blue suede shoes and Wild Bill Hick-ok jacket, stations himself on the left, behind Grace. Jack, platinum blond page boy and rimless sun-glasses, is on the right. "Why aren't you all at the Be-In?" he asks. "We invite all of you there after the show." Finally Marty steps forward and says "We'd like to do a thing for a Sunday afternoon. It's an old Fillmore song."
We wanted to reach more people so we needed a hit song. We took "My Best Friend," which was a groovy tune to start off with, and commercialized it. It made number one in San Fran-