A History of the Newport Jazz Festival – Chapter VI: Electric Aquidneck Experiment, 1969

At the time of the first Newport Jazz Festival in 1954, there were two primary ways to enter the city on Aquidneck Island. From the North, travelers would cross the Mount Hope Bridge. But most traffic came from the West, where one would invariably need to take a ferry or other watercraft ashore. While there was a charm to a boat’s inclusion in the voyage, the process was inefficient and rendered Newport more remote and inaccessible. On June 28th, 1969, this was remedied by the completion of the four-lane Newport Bridge to cross the bay.* This new path opened the island up to the surrounding world more than ever before. During the same summer, the Jazz Festival did so artistically as well.

In some ways, the 1969 Festival was not too far removed musically from its prior incarnations. Thursday, July 3rd, programmed as “For the Jazz Aficionado,” showcased a handful of artists who performed at previous Festivals. Anita O’Day returned for the first time since her 1958 performance as captured on “Jazz on A Summer’s Day.”  After working with Miles Davis, Bill Evans had established himself as a top pianist and now dueting with flutist Jeremy Steig. George Benson and Kenny Burrell, part of the 1966 trumpet and guitar workshop, were leading their own Quartets. So was Freddie Hubbard, who last appeared in 1964 as a new artist to watch. Even the night’s artists who were new to Newport fit comfortably along trajectories of who came before. Holt-Young Unlimited followed a path by Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, Jimmy Smith, and others. The avant-garde scene was also well represented; Cecil Taylor protege Sunny Murray shared his sextet with Dave Burrell, and Sun Ra pushed things to outer space with his Arkestra. 

The following afternoon likewise built off of the Festival’s long history of jam sessions with one featuring Ray Nance, Howard McGhee, Benny Green, Buddy Tate, Slam Stewart, Jimmy Owens, Paul Jeffrey,  Eddie Jefferson, Brew Moore, Cecil Payne, and Kenny Dorham. 

However, most of the weekend was vastly different than anything George Wein had produced there before. By 1969, rock and roll had secured its hold over American culture. With the recent development of jazz-rock hybrids, the Newport Jazz Festival was not immune. Sensing audience appetites, Wein determined that the inclusion of some rock contingency on his lineups was an inevitability. And the remainder of the summer’s event, including Friday’s “An Evening of Jazz-Rock,” was born.

Wein also recognized his personal limitations. He was not a connoisseur of this particular style; by his own admission, he disliked it. And so, during his planning stages, he reached out to record producer Joe Boyd for some recommendations. The only criteria given was that those chosen had to be extremely talented and able to further the high-standing artistic quality by which the Newport Festivals had become known. Upon receiving an extensive list from Boyd, Wein began reaching out to each, finding them all excited by the prospect of performing at Festival Field. He then worked to narrow the selections down to only a few, primarily those who showed some inspiration from jazz or the blues. Even after completion of the bookings, artists – including Jimi Hendrix- continued to seek inclusion but were too late.

The first of these groups was Jethro Tull as part of its Stand Up tour. While leader Ian Anderson’s sound naturally developed from the work of jazz flutists, his surroundings – provided by guitarist Martin Barre, bassist Glen Cornick, and drummer Clive Bunker- were more aggressive than his predecessors. Eerily reminiscent of the precursor to the violence that abruptly ended the 1960 Jazz Festival, many young people who did not purchase tickets to the event became increasingly disruptive after their performance. The fenced barrier that once struggled to keep crowds out of Frank Sinatra’s performance in 1965 showed increased strain during Jethro Tull’s set, with many people jumping over it or knocking parts of it down entirely. Before the British band Ten Years After could take the stage, George Wein made an announcement advocating calm, requesting that attendees to the sold-out show sit in their chairs and that those outside the Field’s perimeter cease their activity.

Vocalist-guitarist Alvin Lee, pianist Chick Churchill, drummer Ric Lee, and bassist Leo Lyons found a way to combine the aggressive free-spiritedness of rock with the soulfulness of the blues. Among the tracks on their self-titled debut (Deram, 1967) was “Spoonful” a composition by Willie Dixon. In addition to appearing at the 1960 Festival himself, vocalist-bassist Dixon originated several of Muddy Waters’ best-known tunes: “Hoochie Coochie Man”, “Tiger in Your Tank”, and “I Got My Brand On You”, all three of which were once part of the farewell to Newport. 

Following an intermission was Blood, Sweat, & Tears. In many ways, it was a fitting choice for the Festival. In addition to rock, pop, and R&B, the band built its sound off of Big Band and small-combo jazz traditions and brassy sounds. Their eponymous release the prior year, which would win a Grammy Award for Album of the Year in 1970, even featured a rendition of Billie Holiday’s “God Bless the Child.” 

The closer was guitarist Jeff Beck. One of three noted guitarists to play with The Yardbirds, the other two being Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page, Beck was now fronting a Group of his own with Rod Stewart, Ronnie Wood, pianist Nicky Hopkins, and bassist Tony Newman. Their latest, Beck-Ola (Epic Records, 1969), displayed the impact of bluesmen on his music, such as a cover of BB King’s “Sweet Little Angel.” At Newport, this influence came by way of Howlin’ Wolf’s “I Ain’t Superstitious” and Muddy Waters’ “You Shook Me.’ Today he is often considered among the best axmen of all time.

Although the remainder of the weekend was not under the “Evening of Jazz-Rock” banner, the Festival continued to present similar acts. This is not to say there were not jazz highlights as well; Art Blakey, Gary Burton, Dave Brubeck with Gerry Mulligan, Buddy Rich, and Willie Bobo were all wedged between artists once on Boyd’s list. Just as Stéphane Grappelli made his first US performance, so did John Mayall. The latter, another English guitarist influenced by Waters, was by then experimenting with a new “softer” format with acoustic instruments and no drummer.

Saturday also saw Frank Zappa’s The Mothers of Invention in its original version with Ian Underwood on keyboards, Lowell George on guitars, Roy Estrada on bass, Don Preston on Moog Synthesizer, Bunk Gardner and Jim “Motorhead” Sherwood on saxes, Buzz Garder on trumpet, Don “Sugarcane” Harris on violin, and Arthur Tripp on drums. Although the collective would disband later in the year, the art they produced was groundbreaking and devoid of preconceptions.  A child of the avant-garde, blues, and rock, their music was unlike any other at the time, or since.

At the end of Zappa’s performance, a crowd that had been otherwise well-mannered during the day became increasingly chaotic. And yet again, more people sitting on a nearby hill began rushing the venue’s fences. By the final set of the evening, these audiences would reach a fever pitch. 

Two months prior, Sly and the Family Stone created one of their best, Stand! (Epic, 1969). In combining danceable grooves with socially conscious messages, the title track, “Sing a Simple Song”, “Everyday People,” and “I Want to Take You Higher” were memorable and unique. Today it ranks among the finest of American recordings in the National Recording Registry. At the time, the group had a cadre of fervent fans, many of whom were at Newport. Upon seeing them in the crowd, Sly Stone went into a fervor, in turn further stoking the crowds. As the group advanced past its scheduled time, ticketholders began to run into the photography pit. Those on the hill collapsed the barrier between them and the seats. Security and police officers formed human barricades to stop people from climbing up the stage itself. And yet the bandleader kept pushing the energy further and further. A riot seemed imminent but narrowly avoided.

The scene was witnessed by Miles Davis. Since his special moment at the 1955 Festival, the trumpeter had changed music several times. By the last year of the 1960s, the Second Great Quintet was disbanded with its members, other than Wayne Shorter, moving in different directions. Herbie Hancock tackled instrumental soul on Fat Albert Rotunda (Warner Bros., 1969) with a group that also appeared at the 1969 Festival. Outside Newport, Tony Williams was forging his Lifetime band with John McLaughlin and Larry Young, while Ron Carter remained one of the most in-demand bassists. Now the Prince of Darkness was in search of another novel sound. His new group with Chick Corea, Dave Holland, and Jack Dejohnette played at Festival Field the day before sans Shorter, who had been stuck in traffic leading up to the Newport Bridge. “Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,” “Sanctuary,” and “It’s About That Time/The Theme” previewed both In a Silent Way (Columbia, 1969) and Bitches Brew (Columbia, 1970). Seeing the listeners’ response to Stone’s set, and drawing parallels to his own coming work, further confirmed to Miles that he was on the right track. It was the first time he stayed at the Festival the entire weekend, instead of his usual approach of arriving shortly before and leaving slightly after his set. 

The Family Stone was not the only legendary funk act at that summer’s event. On Sunday afternoon James Brown’s band started with three instrumentals:  “Soul Pride,” “Popcorn,” and Duke Ellington’s “Thing’s Ain’t What They Used to Be.” The prior year was a prolific year for the Godfather of Soul, with many songs presented in his smoldering set –  “Say It Loud (I’m Black and I’m Proud),” “Lightening Stick,” and “There Was a Time” – from that period. But he saved the best for last, his recent hit “Mother Popcorn” where tight horn and rhythm sections meet with a series of increasingly higher pitched and more intense screams and Maceo Parker’s infectious alto sax solo.

B.B. King, who was at the Newport Folk Festival the prior summer would later perform as well. Wailing on his guitar Lucille, he shared impassioned versions of “Every Day I Have the Blues,” “How Blue Can You Get” and Willie Dixon’s “Whole Lot of Lovin,” again made famous by Waters.  Johnny Winter exhibited some of his own pieces before the two joined for a duet. 

Despite Miles Davis’ feelings upon seeing the events that transpired during Sly and the Family Stone’s set, not everyone was so enthused. This created some difficulty for Sunday’s headliner: Led Zeppelin. Lesser-known only a few months prior, Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones, and John Bonham were now at the peak of popularity with their recent eponymous first album (Atlantic, 1969). Fearing a repeat of the National Guard being called in to cease destruction, several Newport city councilors asked Wein to cancel the performance to ensure safety. As councilman David Fonton subsequently noted “the crowd is just too much for this town to handle… the field can cope with 25,000 but we had between 40,000 and 60,000 people in a town with a population of only 37,500.”

The band’s members were equally unhappy with recent developments. As their manager Peter Grant would tell Wein, “the guys wanted to come to the Newport Jazz Festival [but] now they find out it’s just another rock concert.” So, Wein met with the band and told them the story of Duke Ellington’s moment at Freebody Park in 1956. Following the high energy of “Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue” Duke was able to avoid an out of control situation by quickly switching to a slow blues tune. Wein requested they do the same and, in so doing, Led Zeppelin helped avoid a riot. 

Taking the weekend as a whole, many were critical. Down Beat summarized the event as “Big Crowds, Bad Vibes” and in the magazine, Dan Morgenstern called it “a resounding failure.” The City Council voted to prohibit rock performances from future Newport festivals, a development welcomed by Wein, who wanted to return his focus to the music he loved most. And yet, it was a bold experiment in which it was ultimately Led Zeppelin who kept the 1969 edition from being Newport’s last Jazz Festival.

* The Newport Bridge was later named in honor of U.S. Senator Claiborne Pell. In addition to living in the city, Pell was also an ardent supporter of the Newport Festivals, even providing introductory remarks in some years. Of course, now the bridge is an integral part of the beautiful backdrop of Fort Adams, the modern Festivals’ home. 

Significant portions of this chapter were adapted from George Wein’s autobiography (written with Nate Chinen) ‘Myself Among Others’ (Da Capo Press, 2004), and ‘50: The Newport Jazz Festival, 1954-2004’.