Music vet and New Times scribe Lee Zimmerman shares stories of memorable rock 'n' roll encounters that took place in our local environs. This week, advice from his idols.
One such instance occurred during an exchange with Paul Kantner -- vocalist, guitarist, songwriter, and founding member of both the Jefferson Airplane and its later reincarnation as the Jefferson Starship. I'd always been an admirer of his early efforts, particularly the part he played in ushering in the so-called "Summer of Love" and the mythical ascent of San Francisco during the height of '60s psychedelia. For me, that period represented a real cultural shift, when the possibilities were endless and freedom and flower power were practically inseparable. The Airplane saw it all and lived it all as well. I'd seen Kantner and his crew back in the day, at the tail end of that era, and I'd seen him more recently as well, performing with the band he continued to call Jefferson Starship, even despite the lack of any veterans like himself that might have been coaxed aboard. Naturally it wasn't the same; Kantner looked like an old retiree, dressed in shorts with skinny, sunburned legs that looked like they belonged to one who'd spend ample time on the golf course or strolling through an old age home.
