Patrick Burke

Tear down the walls: Jefferson Airplane, race, and revolutionary rhetoric in 1960s rock

While the notion of the ‘rock revolution’ of the 1960s has by now become commonplace, scholars have rarely addressed the racial implications of this purported revolution. This article examines a notorious 1968 blackface performance by Grace Slick, lead singer of Jefferson Airplane, to shed light on a significant tendency in 1960s rock: white musicians casting themselves as political revolutionaries by enacting an idealised vision of African American identity. Rock, a form dominated by white musicians and audiences but pervasively influenced by black music and style, conveyed deeply felt but inconsistent notions of black identity in which African Americans were simultaneously subjected to insensitive stereotypes and upheld as examples of moral authority and revolutionary authenticity. Jefferson Airplanes references to black culture and politics were multifaceted and involved both condescending or naive radical posturing and sincere respect for African American music. The Airplane appear to have been engaged in a complex if imperfect attempt to create a contemporary musical form that reflected African American influences without asserting dominance over those influences. Their example suggests that closer attention to racial issues allows us to address the revolutionary ambitions of 1960s rock without romanticising or trivialising them.

Rock, Race, and Radicalism in the 1960s: The Rolling Stones, Black Power, and Godard's One Plus One

Jean-Luc Godards 1968 film One Plus One is of musicological significance because, unlike most music scholars, Godard directly confronts racial issues in 1960s rock. By juxtaposing studio footage of the Rolling Stones with staged tableaux of black militants, Godard both highlights white appropriation of black music and suggests that any cultural expression that seems transparently authentic is actually constructed rhetorically. One Plus One undermines the romantic notion of the “rock revolution” that continues to inform popular accounts of 1960s rock, suggesting instead that rock was part of a complex and often contradictory political culture.

The Fugs, the Lower East Side, and the Slum Aesthetic in 1960s Rock

During the mid-to-late 1960s, impoverished urban districts throughout the United States witnessed an influx of white middle-class youth who attempted to remake society and themselves against a backdrop of inner-city grit and decay. This article focuses on the Lower East Side of Manhattan to explore the significance of slumming in the creation and reception of 1960s rock. Lower East Side rock musicians drew little overt influence from their neighborhoods longstanding ethnic communities, which included eastern Europeans, Puerto Ricans, and African Americans. Rather, these musicians were fascinated with the concept of the “slum” itself as a more abstract signifier of authenticity, adventure, and nonconformity. I propose that a “slum aesthetic” emphasizing dirt, obscenity, and willful amateurism, exemplified by local band the Fugs, was crucial to the Lower East Side rock scene. Examining this “slum aesthetic” helps paint a more nuanced picture of both the political significance of rock and the connections between popular music and urban life. As the Lower East Sides musicians sought both radical social change and a large audience, they represented their neighborhood in ways that combined thoughtful engagement with broad caricature, a contradiction that inspired both musical creativity and social tension.