Review Detail

As members of Boston's open-ended musicians' community, our bass-player, Ernie Brooks, & I were turned onto what Far Cry was doing near their home in southern New Hampshire, a mostly-free day-long rock festival in support of the local Fire Department, on rolling, grassy hills on a beautiful day in July, a month before Woodstock, which seemed, then, to be as invisible as it was. The list of bands was inclusive and impressive, solid folkies like Jaime Brockett, along with people & bands, like Far Cry we'd all seen in town, often on Sundays on Cambridge Common, along with national/international folks - Van Morrison and his band, who'd spent the last year in Cambridge, and the Velvet Underground, whose second home was Boston's Tea Party, and whose crew had, uh, infiltrated Cambridge with Edie Sedgwick & Co. years before. The day was glorious, the fragrances obvious, and the music was exceptionally solid, no wasted time, no over-extensions of stupid leads, no embarrassing self-indulgences, just especially fine music. The party afterwards, at Far Cry's huge house, will have to be another, smaller tale, considering the space, but I hope to send it along soon...