(editor’s note – Kris Kristofferson, Rita Coolidge, and Billy Swan were originally scheduled for this date. They were initially moved to July 13, then canceled altogether due to scheduling conflicts with Kristofferson).
Jefferson Starship rewards 10,000 dedicated fans who braved downpour
by Bill Brina, The Knickerbocker News, August 30, 1975
It was supposed to have been a “zero per cent chance of rain” day, and the band’s newest album is either number 1 or 2 in the whole country (and in this area) this week.
So it seemed plausible when a local promoter said at lunch that the Jefferson Starship concert at Saratoga might break a few attendance records.
Instead, it rained—a constant, sodden downpour that moved a local SPAC official to note that she rather marvelled at the stamina and dedication of those who did come. And quite a few did—it was hard to guess the crowd, but I’d say 10,000 or so.
They came to be blown away by the last and the greatest of the San Francisco psychedelic bands. And despite a few problems, they departed more than satisfied.
Those problems first: Grace Slick seemed to have a cold, leaving the lower register of her contralto wobbly and flat. And Papa John Creach was unexpectedly absent—whether for just the evening or permanently this writer was unable to ascertain.
But cold or no cold, Grace soldiered on like the consummate professional she is. Her classics, “Somebody to Love” and “White Rabbit,” were tackled with verve and fire, as she hit the note when she had to. And lead guitarist Craig Chacquico played furiously enough to cover for Papa John’s absence at least on the harder material.
Drummer Johnny Barbata did insist on singing one of his own songs. An earlier comment by the band’s leader, Paul Kantner, seems appropriate: “It’s the ruination of good drummers—they decide they have to go out and sing.”
Kantner himself was in excellent voice, as was Marty Balin, who handled a larger chunk of the male lead vocal chores. Most satisfyingly, all of the vocalists worked together smoothly and harmoniously, as did the instrumentalists. This isn’t really a soloists’ band, although Barbata’s flashy but insubstantial drum solo won a standing ovation and Peter Sear’s interestingly jagged bass solo deserved one. It’s an ensemble band, capable of playing unison instrumental passages that at times, most notably during the “X-M” segment of “Blows Against the Empire” (yes, they performed that in its entirety), approached an aching beauty.
The band’s sound system was clear, full, and rather loud. But not quite loud enough to drown out the collective roar that came out of the audience for the first bars of the encore, “Volunteers.” Don’t know what it is, but that’s the number that’s always good for unleashing a wave of exultant exuberance in an Airplane/Starship audience. The feeling was strong enough for Marty Balin to keep the band onstage for yet another number, a rousing, populist rocker.
Electronic jazz-rock keyboard player David Sancious opened the concert with a 50-minute set in which he demonstrated a lot of chops, but not quite enough of an idea yet of what to do with them.
Portions of the audience spent a good deal of effort trying to get in out of the rain (understandably), and the inevitable boors made their initial rush to the stage. But overall, the audience seemed rather relaxed and pleasant.
Bennington Banner, March 22, 1975
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