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THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED
FORTY YEARS AFTER THE GIG THAT WENT TERRIBLY WRONG ROB HUGHES TALKS TO THOSE WHO WERE THERE
New York City, 26 November 1969. Mick Jagger is leading a press conference in the Art Deco surrounds of the Rainbow Room, up on the 65th floor of the Rockerfeller Centre. The Rolling Stones are midway through an American tour, their first since the tragic death of founder member Brian Jones in July, and it’s a huge success; so much so that they’re now intent on giving a free festival in Northern California, partly as an extended thank you to Stones fans, and partly as a West Coast celebration of the Woodstock counterculture.
“It’s creating a sort of microcosmic society,” theorises Jagger to the assembled media, “which sets an example to the rest of America as to how one can behave in large gatherings.” His words turned out to be ominously prophetic. As writer and Stones insider Stanley Booth later remarked: “Altamont set an example, all right. As did Vietnam.”
The Stones’ gig at Altamont Speedway on 6 December, some miles east of San Francisco, was a full-scale disaster. Three hundred thousand descended on a bald hillside in California’s Central Valley, lured by the communal promise of peace, love and music from Santana, The Flying Burrito Brothers, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, The Grateful Dead and, of course, the Stones. What they got was bad vibes, bad drugs, Hells Angels and the …
by ROB HUGHES
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