London psychedelia and the underground

While San Francisco psychedelia was in full swing, London across the water developed a psychedelic culture with a subtle relationship to it.

Now let us cross the continent and the Atlantic—from San Francisco to London—to cover how psychedelic culture developed there, and some Anglo-American comparisons.

In the first phase before 1967, London shared some of San Francisco’s pattern: familiar mainstream bands held the charts, but later they also intertwined with London’s subculture. London’s psychedelic subculture was already there in 1965; as in San Francisco, in 1967 several psychedelic bands rose and the culture suddenly went national. Some of those bands succeeded in America; some did not. An interesting fact: people making psychedelic music in Britain actually knew little about San Francisco—flying in 1965–66 was not as common as now; not many people, especially 20- or 21-year-olds, went back and forth between San Francisco and New York. So Londoners’ information about San Francisco was hearsay or newspaper reports. Youth papers were few then, let alone TV—no internet or satellite TV; how would you know what was happening in San Francisco? Interestingly, on limited information these young people developed a psychedelic music that in some ways included San Francisco’s basic traits, but with a British accent—yet the two places had no direct link. Some people did travel between San Francisco and London, but few; among them was Beat poet Allen Ginsberg.

In fact San Francisco psychedelia and the Beats, with City Lights Bookstore and people like Lawrence Ferlinghetti, had already risen in the late 1950s—though the Beats chose jazz, not rock. Ginsberg not only mattered to Beat poetry’s rise; he also brought the idea that LSD heightens perception and fuels writing. In summer 1965 he came to London to help local poets organize readings and brought some San Francisco things with him. That summer they held “Poets of the World – Poets of Our Time” at the Royal Albert Hall; scholars often treat that gathering as, in a sense, the start of London’s underground psychedelic culture. People who had been to San Francisco shared what they had seen. In autumn 1965 Michael Hollingshead opened the World Psychedelic Center, which became a hub of London psychedelia. His work resembled Ken Kesey’s in San Francisco—another Johnny Appleseed of LSD and the counterculture. In a way this was what the underground was doing.

After the World Psychedelic Center opened, Indica Bookshop opened in February 1966 and mattered for spreading countercultural books. John Lennon went there and bought Timothy Leary’s The Psychedelic Experience—the Beatles’ 1966 “Tomorrow Never Knows” draws on it to some degree. In 1966 the London Free School was founded to offer free courses raising awareness of social and cultural topics and to circulate practical writing. Its paper International Times was a London Oracle or later Rolling Stone; that was October 1966. In December 1966 the UFO Club opened, with psychedelic night events.

Against London’s underground, an important mainstream moment was Time’s April 1966 story on “Swinging London”—if you came to London in 1966 you would see the Mod London Austin Powers spoofs: not very hippie, right? Carnaby Street fashion and Mod style were the mainstream then. While Time sold that London to Americans wanting a holiday, psychedelic culture was sprouting where tourists did not go. One of London psychedelia’s best bands was Pink Floyd, still in the early Syd Barrett lineup. Their first two singles mattered in Britain but did nothing in America. They toured the U.S. a few times—but that is not the post-1973 Pink Floyd led by David Gilmour that made The Dark Side of the Moon. This was a different landmark psychedelic band: early singles “Arnold Layne” and “See Emily Play” hit No. 20 and No. 6 in Britain. The interesting part: they refused to play those singles live. Shows were chaotic and improvisational, disappointing many who wanted chart hits while the band did avant-garde improvisation for 15–20 minutes or half an hour. Legend has crowds in the balcony pouring beer on them; the band did not yield—studio singles and live performance were different things. “Interstellar Overdrive” is a good example: once the riff starts they dive into avant-garde live improv. It is on August 1967’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. Interestingly, it shows how things not fully accepted in America entered London psychedelia. The opening phrase comes from Arthur Lee’s L.A. band Love and their rather ordinary 1966 chart single “My Little Red Book,” first written by mainstream pop stars Burt Bacharach and Hal David. Pink Floyd’s manager Peter Jenner hummed the opening to Syd Barrett—Jenner had no sheet music, Barrett did not write it down perfectly, so they did not copy the melody exactly—and that phrase went into “Interstellar Overdrive.” If you can, hear “My Little Red Book” and compare the opening of “Interstellar Overdrive”; you will hear the likeness. The difference between those two phrases largely stands for differences between West Coast and London psychedelic culture.

Continue Pink Floyd’s story: in summer 1967, in the same studio where they cut Piper, the Beatles were recording at Abbey Road; Paul McCartney poked his head in and heard this young band making their first album. Later—perhaps psychedelics, mental instability, or both—Syd began to show signs of instability; his behavior grew erratic. At first friend David Gilmour joined to help Syd. Finally they decided not to take Syd onstage; Gilmour took his place. The band went on and made great records, successful in Britain. 1968’s A Saucerful of Secrets and 1970’s Atom Heart Mother are important, but Pink Floyd still had no U.S. success until 1973’s The Dark Side of the Moon—a huge hit that, in many ways, carried late-1960s London psychedelic aesthetics into the 1970s more successfully than any other album. It is also a 1970s Pink Floyd concept album. Concept-album history can run from the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper to Pink Floyd’s The Wall. Other bands mattered underground: while Pink Floyd as a local London band had no international success yet, some did—Soft Machine brought strong jazz influence into psychedelia; Tomorrow had chart songs, most iconic “My White Bicycle.”

Interestingly, Steve Howe—later of Yes and Asia—was in Tomorrow. The Crazy World of Arthur Brown had the signature “Fire,” which radio played well and U.S. stations often aired in the 1970s. That band also included Carl Palmer of Emerson, Lake & Palmer. So: late-1960s London psychedelia, plus underground bands outside the mainstream—things Americans would not know unless they saw them live in London. Next: British mainstream artists who truly put psychedelic elements into British music at the end of the 1960s.