It was February, 1968. And it was a very weird day. Of all the bands I have ever met, interviewed, or witnessed, going to The Stooges’ digs still remains one of the most truly over-the-top and strange experiences of my life. I might have been better prepared had I witnessed The Stooges’ unholy debut on October 31, 1967 at a Hallowe’en party thrown by some acquaintances of the MC5.
It was quite an honour, since the Five were the undisputed rulers of the Detroit underground music scene, under the tutelage of their manager, John Sinclair. Their patronage went a long way to help an embryonic band establish themselves in the cutthroat music scene of the Motor City, and this symbolic gesture meant a lot. But this invitation to play their bash had little to do with like-minded politics – or even with the fledgling band’s entertainment quotient. Rather, their manager, a devout and righteous vegan, was John Sinclair’s hash dealer.
