Terrible song. This is the type of faux love that taught hate. But gee, it was cool, because the Animals were known to be edgy, rough, rowdy boys from Newcastle, and the love in San Fransisco was so great that it softened even them. Truly, truly, it was the hope of mankind.
Okay, even at the time I recognised that there was something amazingly stupid about this.
To their credit, the Animals' bass player discovered Jimi Hendrix, suggested burning his guitar as a bit, introduced him to Eric Clapton, and paid for his first record. So there's that. We think "how fortunate we are that he got in there and saw the talent before Hendrix died."
Except, Jimi would still have had talent, he probably would have carved out some niche anyway, and might not have overdosed on barbiturates. There might be reunion tours even now. If we don't see close connections otherwise, we assume that the past would have occurred much as it did, rather like a solid object that can have pieces moved without affecting the whole.
2 comments:
wow. You are right. Bad.
Sometimes if it wasn't for bad taste, I wouldn't have any taste at all.
Well part of it was accurate. I lived in San Francisco at the time and I was more or less beautiful.
But all this droning on about 'a warm San Francisco night' makes me wonder if they've ever been there. We have fog. It rolls in at night. In the late afternoon the fog burns off in the eastern half of the city but usually rolls back in at sunset.
Check Mark Twain.
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