1967

In 1967, I was in my second year of college and had purchased a 1967 Plymouth Barracuda Convertible with my father who purchased a 1967 Plymouth Barracuda Fastback.  We got both cars for $6,000 each because we purchased two vehicles at the same time.  The contract I made with my father was to pay him back for the vehicle with monthly payments but without interest.  Even thought I was attending college, I worked full time in a Hosiery Factory dying socks.  My car was paid off by the time I graduated.

1967 was an interesting year for me...  because it started during the second semester of my Freshman year and ended after the first semester of my Sophomore year, neither of which were good semesters for me as far as being course-work entertaining.

In my second year in college, I moved off campus into a trailer with a classmate of mine that I had met that year...  even though I do not remember the circumstances under which we first met or became friends...  but, I had only 2 friends in college...  the second friend was an accounting major that after graduation became my CPA for 40 years.

I recall that about 20 miles away from the college I was attending was an all female university to which we drove to regularly and had no problems meeting other women in the local drinking place called THE APPLE CELLAR.  Actually, I think every college campus city has an apple cellar somewhere close by.  I met an Art Major there with whom I dated for the next several years...  She graduated before I did and moved out-of-town, never keeping in touch with me.

1967 Rock

 From Far Out Magazine...

1967 is the year that the ‘Summer of Love’ fully blossomed into a psychedelic flower. The epicentre of the golden age of counter-cultural psychedelic rock began in San Francisco but found its influence spreading all over the world like wildfire.

The heart of the movement found its perfect symbolic representation on March 31st when Jimi Hendrix burnt his guitar on the stage for the first time. Setting yourself apart in 1967 was no easy feat, perhaps Hendrix knew this and decided to go through with an outrageous act, or perhaps he knew he was teetering on the precipice of greatness, and needed that extra nudge to free-fall with the gods and goddesses of rock.

In March, Jimi Hendrix was on a British tour with an eclectic mix of acts, including The Walker Brothers, Englebert Humperdinck, and Cat Stevens. The tour had made a stop at Finsbury Park Astoria in London and Hendrix was hanging out backstage with his manager and ex-Animals bass player, Chas Chandler, along with music journalist, Keith Altham. After Altham had suggested to Hendrix that he include his song ‘Fire’ in his setlist that night, a roadie was sent out to fetch lighter fluid according to Ultimate Classic Rock; Chandler had suggested to the fledgeling rock god that he literally set fire to his guitar.

After Jimi Hendrix and his fellow Experience band mates, Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding burnt through an electrifying set of ‘Fire’, Hendrix distracted the crowd while Chandler doused his white Fender Stratocaster with butane. Shortly thereafter, Hendrix knelt beside the sodden axe and performed his timeless act. The stunt wasn’t without consequences, however. Hendrix burnt his hands, as well as burning the emcee who went to extinguish the fire.

More than that, however, the most defining consequence was that rock ‘n’ roll had witnessed an apex of rock perfection, a stunt that was truly hard to outdo at that point.

Perhaps it was because of impassioned acts like this that incentivised the best musicians of the time to create their masterpieces. Jefferson Airplane had released their sophomore Alice-in-wonderland esque masterpiece, Surrealistic Pillow; Jim Morrison and The Doors changed the musical landscape by allowing people the means to expand their minds; The Beatles and The Rolling Stones were going at it head to head to see who could create the worlds greatest ‘summer of love’ paragon. 

Ultimately, it was unanimously decided that The Beatles won that title, with their defining record, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, beating out Pink Floyd’s kaleidoscopic debut, and Love’s dystopic yet liberating message of Earth’s imminent demise in two years; an album whose title defies the boundaries of time and space, called Forever Changes.

It was no easy task creating this definitive list of the six best albums released in 1967, and by no means will everyone agree with it, simply because there are too many great albums from this year. Nevertheless, below you’ll find the list.  TO SEE THE TOP 6 ALBUMS FOR 1967, CLICK HERE...