Classic Rock Esoterica: The Idea

by Martin Rots

I came of age in southern California but moved to Detroit in my mid-teens. The first time I remember music really stirring me was in the early sixties and it was surf music. At the beach, it was pouring out of transistor radios, the Ventures, Jan and Dean, the Trashmen, Dick Dale and of course, the Beach Boys. In January 1964, a new band called the Beatles released Meet the Beatles in the United States. The number one single from the album, was the incredibly innocent, I Want to Hold Your Hand. The following month they appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show and were soon on their way to becoming cultural icons.

Things were changing, even at the beach. The long hair and St. Christopher medals sported by the surfers would soon be replaced by longer hair and peace signs hanging around their necks. London's Mods began to influence fashion in New York and Los Angeles. It was the beginning of an international cultural phenomena.

I let my hair grow longer, my pants got tighter and I bought my first pair of suede "Beatle Boots." I practiced my guitar diligently certain it would lead me to where I wanted to go even if I was uncertain of the destination. Southern California was the place to be, the center of my universe and I loved it.

In August of 1966, my parents announced we were moving to Michigan, north of Detroit. We were gone by the end of September. We lived in Detroit and I attended a tough school when we first arrived in Michigan. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I dressed differently than everyone in school and even spoke a different language. The southern California teen slang I was so comfortable with meant nothing in Detroit. In Motown, no one was stoked and bitchin' meant to complain.

Exclusive of Motown, the Detroit rock scene was just beginning to evolve and I was there to witness its birth. Russ Gibb, Detroit rock entrepreneur, opened the Grande Ballroom in October 1966, right about the time I arrived in Detroit. The emerging counter-culture scene in Detroit included the Plum Street community, akin to the Haight in San Francisco, the Grande Ballroom and the residential area surrounding Wayne State University.

As a music lover, I was in the right place. Even though I missed southern California, I knew things could have been much worse. It seemed that every major rock act from both sides of the Atlantic came through Detroit and played in the intimate atmosphere of the Grande Ballroom. Christmas brought the Motown Revue to the Fox Theater. It featured every Motown act, live on stage, performing their hits.

If you liked music, Detroit was a good place to be in the late sixties.

Over forty years have passed and the music remains a major part of my life. It's more than that, though, it's become a lifelong passion of listening, reading and collecting. It is the stories behind the songs and artists that I find fascinating and would like to share with like-minded individuals or those that are simply curious.

This site is new and will evolve over time. I'm not going to write about Lennon's Jesus remark or how Hendrix burned his guitar at Monterey, everyone's heard those stories. It's more fun to learn about Pete Townsend and Jimi Hendrix almost coming to blows backstage at Monterey or why the Vox Super Beatle amplifier was so important in its time. Sometimes, I may be editorializing, reminiscing or just bitching, depending on how the spirit moves me. Occasionally, I will stray from the confines of time and look at people and events, before and after, that influenced or were influenced by the classic rock era.

There is no end of stories to tell...