When I was a kid, I can remember having two favorite bands. The first was the Beatles of course (for obvious reasons).
The second though, was the Jefferson Airplane. Some of the reasons there should be fairly obvious — Grace Slick's dark and druggy sexuality made me cream my very hormonally charged thirteen year old jeans the same way that I'm sure they did many other young boys growing up back then in the sixties as I did.
But where the Airplane really cast their spell on me was in the way guitarist Jorma Kaukonen and bassist Jack Casady wove such intoxicating tapestries of sound. They were more like tunnels which took you deep into the rabbit hole Grace sang about actually.
There was nothing quite like the way Casady's rumbling bass lines sucked you deep down into that tunnel — and there really has never been another like him before or since. Couple that with Kaukonen's sharp, raga-esque blasts of guitar and you had a uniquely different flight into the other worlds of consciousness altogether. Fantasies of Grace's own rabbit hole notwithstanding (sorry, couldn't resist...)
I mean, sure. Grace was every sixties male teenyboppers hippie chick goddess — and undoubtedly the focus of many a pre-pubescent masturbatory fantasy back then (which forty some odd years later, I can now admit included my own). Where Janis was sorta scary, Grace was more like comely, okay?
But while Grace may have made one hell of a psychedelic flight attendant, it was Jorma and Jack who were truly flying this particular Airplane. With these two amazingly gifted musicians as your psychedelic pilots, any additional drugs were completely unnecessary. Fly Jefferson Airplane indeed.
Another thing I used to do back then was mark the songs on my vinyl albums with stars for the songs I really liked. The ones I'd skip over would be unmarked, while others might have one star or two. But the ones which really kicked ass might have four or even five.
When Jefferson Airplane released their first official live album Bless Its Pointed Little Head back in 1969, the song "Plastic Fantastic Lover" was marked with five stars. No question about it. As songs released on live albums go, this one ranked right up there with the fourteen minute version of "My Generation" from The Who Live At Leeds.
To this day, I have never heard a bass riff that rumbled my speakers and my entire being, the same way that this one did, and still does to this day. Kaukonen's leads — razor sharp and concise — likewise cut through Casady's deep as thunder bass runs like a knife to butter, and Marty Balin's vocals here are the icing on the cake.