Latest news with #Byrds
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Saturday Squawkbox II
squawkbox@ Will Big 'Mc' Donald Trump set a nutritional example for Americans by abandoning cheeseburgers for salads, fresh fruit and veggies? Amen, squawker, who noted the trash picker-uppers missed a few thousand spots in Albany. Mayor Hubbard was the only local politician who tried to get the city cleaned up. Since she's been out of office, nothing. These people who live like pigs treat the public property like pigs. They should be made to stay in their sties. To the MAGA nuts squawker who think Biden was so horrible: How is your 401k doing? If we could harness Trump's economic performance so far and sell it to Six Flags, they could have the most scary ride in roller coaster history. And we could all just about break even on our retirement accounts. Talk about covers of Bob Dylan songs: How about 'Mr. Tambourine Man' by the Byrds. That was a good one. Also Nirvana doing David Bowie's 'The Man Who Sold the World.' There are thousands of them. Christians shouldn't take lectures about family values from a convicted felon who has children by multiple women, paid hush money to a porn star, stole from a children's charity, lied about a pandemic that killed thousands of people, sent a group of thugs to the Capitol to overturn an election and has filed for bankruptcy six times. That Man Without a Family Donald Trump, our True President, has shown himself to be the perfect man for the job. He's cutting out waste, jump-starting the economy and has instilled fear in the enemies of democracy. See what we've been missing the last four years? Maryland's 24/7 work zone speed cameras issued 48,000 tickets in two months. Time for Georgia to use these to protect workers. Mr. Fletcher, in reading your editorial, it seems that you blame all of the troubles between the races on whites. That's just wrong. I've been mistreated by blacks in positions of authority just because of the color of my skin. That door swings both ways. Welcome back to Albany, Demi Davis. I can't wait to see how you fare as the director of 'Little Women.' I'm sure you'll hit a home run. A friend was complaining to Carlton about getting help at Lowe's. Carlton said if they don't help me within two minutes, I pick up a chainsaw and try to start it. Usually results in more help than I need. Why aren't there a bunch of transgenders fighting to participate in men's sports? To the MAGA nut squawker who thinks Biden was so horrible: How is your 401k doing? If we could harness Trump's economic performance so far and sell it to Six Flags, they could have the most scary ride in roller coaster history. And we could all just about break even on our retirement accounts. Elon Musk owns only 12.8% of Telsa. Dear liberals: The other 87.2% is owned by companies funding your 401ks. I just read in the AJC where one in four adults in America owes a college debt. That is insane. People are getting degrees, or trying, from these online and for-profit schools. Many of those degrees are almost worthless.
Times
08-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
The Times Daily Quiz: Friday May 9, 2025
1 Spamilton (2016) is a spoof of which Tony award-winning musical? 2 What type of animal is the subject of the Byrds' 1970 song Chestnut Mare? 3 The CS Lewis novel Prince Caspian was originally subtitled The Return to … which land? 4 Which Fawlty Towers actor was born in Berlin with the first names Andreas Siegfried? 5 Founded in Geneva in 1863, which organisation's original motto was 'Inter arma caritas' (In war, charity)? 6 La vache qui rit is the French name of which processed-cheese brand? 7 Plants use which green pigment to make food during photosynthesis? 8 Who played the rebellious sixth-former Mick Travis in the 1968 film If….? 9 Which UK-based chef starred in the 2012 BBC2 series
Metro
29-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
Pamela Des Barres reveals how Mick Jagger and Jimmy Page rank as lovers
If the wisdom of retrospect makes books like Patti Smith's Just Kids a moving portrait of an era, then it's the naivety of the present moment that makes Pamela Des Barres's I'm With the Band equally profound. Based on the diaries she kept throughout the 60s and 70s while in the inner circles (and beds) of rockers like Mick Jagger, Keith Moon, Jim Morrison, and Jimmy Page, Pamela's 1987 memoir about the rock scene cemented her as the most well-known groupie in the world. She followed the success of her first memoir with more best-selling books, and its even widely believed that Cameron Crowe drew from her memoirs to create the groupie character Penny Lane in his film Almost Famous. But before all that, Pamela was just another 18-year-old in a mini skirt hanging out on the Sunset Strip trying to meet the stars she idolised. It's this sense of wide-eyed giddiness that makes her – and her writing – so appealing. In fact, as Pamela tells me, she was a groupie before groupie's existed – and she's happy to continue to carry the moniker that made her famous. 'Being a groupie always only meant the love of music and the people who make it,' she insists on a video call from her California flat. 'That's all it's ever meant. I was doing this long before the word – the G-word, I call it – came into being. It was a British journalist who first called us groupies, and I had already been hanging out with The Doors and the Byrds for years.' Now 78 years old and as free-spirited as ever, Pamela talks as easily about her love for rock music as she does about her love for sleeping with the men who made it. 'I'm very brutally honest in it,' she says of her speaking events, which blend stories from her book with off-the-cuff reminiscences. 'There's a Q and A after and I'll answer anything. The only thing I don't ever say is who was the best in bed, or who is the biggest. ..people want to know that. Everyone. Well, usually it's a man who asks,' she says, laughing. Beyond that one hard line, she's happy to discuss the nitty gritty details of her famous lovers, claiming that she remembers them all with equal warmth. 'Nick St. Nicholas [Steppenwolf bassist]was my first, and him I was in love with, but all of them, through Jimmy [Page] and Mick [Jagger] and Keith [Moon] all these people. They were the best in bed, because I was with them at that time. I was there for it in the moment. I was immersed right? I'm immersed in whatever I do.' Her other most asked question, she says, is, 'What was Jim Morrison really like?' She laughs when she reads on my face how badly I want to know the answer. 'He was a poet. I knew him early on,' she says, indulging me. 'Actually, I knew him the whole time, yeah, but he changed. You know, he was this exquisite Adonis poet to begin with. And rock and roll ate him up. He was a he was very – not fragile – but sensitive. He carried his poetry book around and he thought being a rock star was funny. It's not what he intended ever.' A natural storyteller, audience members can expect Pamela to go even deeper into questions like these, as well as stories of doing Mescalin and making love to Jimmy Page after seeing Elvis in Vegas, her raunchy fling with Mick Jagger, her close friendship with Gram Parsons, and all of the debauchery she got into with Keith Moon. After a sold-out show during her last visit to London, Pamela is returning on May 2 to the West Hampstead Arts Club to meet fan demand. People keep buying tickets to her shows, as she puts it, 'because of the mythology around these people, whether they're alive or dead. I bring them back to life in a way.' Chris Hillman – original bassist of the Byrds Dated in the 60s, Pamela calls him 'her first real love' Mick Jagger – lead singer of the Rolling Stones Pamela says sex with him 'wasn't a disappointment' Jim Morrison – lead singer of The Doors Pamela says they 'hung out a little bit' Gram Parsons – singer songwriter, member of the Byrds Pamela says they dated a bit Jimi Hendrix Pamela turned him down for sex when she was 16, remembers it as one of her biggest regrets Noel Redding – Jimi Hendrix's bass player Pamela says: 'He made me realise that sex was going to be a lot of fun in my life and I was going to have a good time with it.' Frank Zappa – solo artist and member of Mothers of Invention A mentor to Pamela, Zappa was responsible for creating the GTOS Jimmy Page – Guitarist and leader of Led Zeppelin Pamela says: 'My other true love that I thought I was really, really in love with.' Keith Moon – The drummer for The Who One of Pamela's long term lovers, she remembers him as brilliant but troubled Robert Plant – Lead singer of Led Zeppelin Still one of Pamela's close friends Don Johnson – Miami Vice actor One of Pamela's long-term boyfriends Buy a ticket to An Intimate Evening With Pamela Des Barres on May 2 at West Hampstead Arts Club here. But Pamela – who was also a member of the GTOs, one of the world's first girl rock groups – isn't just a groupie. She (rightfully) positions herself as just as much a part of rock history as any of the men she dated. 'It wasn't just sex,' she explains, 'at that age, there's a lot of sex involved, but it was a whole scene, you know, and I felt that I was equal to these people.' She gives a lot of credit for that feeling to the legendary Frank Zappa, who first formed the GTOs and 'who put us girls as equals to him. You know, he never, I mean… we saw him as our mentor and everything. But he treated us as equals. So that helped me realize I'm as important as anyone else.' Still, it's not lost on her that her free-love take on sex is received very differently because she is a woman, in a way it wasn't for her male counterparts – I'm With The Band was originally met with quite a lot of pearl-clutching from the wider public. But people misunderstood what she was looking for in the first place. 'I was chasing my highest self, like we all are. Everybody wants to touch the divine,' she claims. 'And of course, you know, sex – in this world – is the closest we're going to get. La petite mort. You know that French statement? An orgasm is total bliss, right? So we're all searching for that.' Did she ever find what she was looking for? Yes and no. Reflecting on her famous fling with Jimmy Page, she says: 'I thought we were in love and that he was going to take me to England and all that, because he said so. And I tended to believe my Prince Charmings back then. But, you know, we were off and on for a couple of years, and we had a great time. Same with Keith Moon, same with all my early rock stars, I didn't live with them, sure. 'You know, I'm not Anita Pallenberg, though I could have been. But I mean I'm glad I wasn't, because I'm still here. I met Michael [Des Barres] when I was 25 and we were together 14 years. So I guess I did find love. You can say I found what I was looking for.' While Pamela remains relentlessly positive about the rock scene – a time when many women later spoke out about being victimized and exploited ('I was never mistreated or hurt in any way') – even she is willing to acknowledge the shadows that began to creep in as the 70s unfolded. 'Believe me, I was ready to meet Michael and settle down when the young groupies came along, the real young girls, because there was no way to compete with that,' she says, referring to the infamous 'baby groupies'of the 70s and 80s, underage girls who became a fixture of the rock scene. 'That was the thing on the scene at the time, these girls in these giant platforms were presenting themselves, and they didn't know any better. They were kids really. So they didn't know what they were getting into. But I didn't like it, it didn't feel right to me,' she explains. As quick as Pamela is to agree that some young vulnerable groupies were mistreated throughout this time, she also can't repress her unfaltering loyalty to the religion of rock and roll for long. 'They were so bored. People think it's an exciting, thrilling ride, and sometimes it is. Other times it's very lonely and hard,' she says of touring rock stars. 'So, so they're looking for outside pleasures, you know? And, yeah, that's just the way it was. 'It was a time of freedom and free love. And, you know, there was good and bad in that. There was, you know, just like everything. But for me, the good of that era outweighed the bad in a huge way. I was never harmed, right? I mean, my heart was broken, but that happens in any walk of life.' Reminiscing on how drugs began to change the scene, Pam says that while she 'took a lot of drugs over the years,' she was 'never addictive.' Others, like Graham Parson ('my beloved Graham') weren't so lucky. But Pam is quick to change the subject, 'It was tragic, that side of things. But I don't focus on that in my shows, because everyone knows about that, right? It was a magnificent time, certainly for women. I carried my birth control pill around with me and just took it in front of people proudly, you know. That was revolutionary.' When you listen to it told from Pamela's perspective, being a rock groupie was nothing short of a divine calling, even a feminist accomplishment. But her positivity doesn't feel like ignorance, it feels like hard-won belief in the goodness of people and the magic of music, and one can't help but want to take a peek through her rose-coloured glasses. While most recountings of the early days of rock and roll take for granted that audiences are after acknowledgement of – and even repentance for – the gritty, seedy realities behind the guitar riffs, Pamela is stubbornly insistent on painting a picture of the era's most defining characteristic: Hope. And she refuses to be anything but proud of believing in that hope enough to spend her youth hanging around dressing rooms and tour buses. More Trending She describes the mid 1960s on the Sunset Strip so vividly you can almost see the amber light shining on the Whiskey-a-go-go: 'The rockers all lived in these incredible fairy tale homes in the canyon. All the doors and windows were left open. People would go on the road and leave their homes unlocked. It was just a different time,' she says wistfully. She continues:'Yeah, even though, you know, the drugs came along and kind of f***ed a lot of stuff up, there was so much innocence in that time, incredible hope and belief in oneself, which is really dissipated right now. People are feeling lower right now. Like, lower than humanity has felt in a very long time, right? But at that time, there was, 'Wow, we could do anything.'' Buy a ticket to An Intimate Evening With Pamela Des Barres on May 2 at West Hampstead Arts Club here. Got a story? If you've got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@ calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we'd love to hear from you. MORE: Insane true story behind catchy EasyJet advert song you can't avoid hearing this year MORE: Shoppers go wild as retro favourite sweet from 80s returns to supermarkets MORE: The 5 best James Bond films ever made – including a record-breaking classic
Metro
29-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
Pamela Des Barres won't reveal if Mick Jagger or Jimmy Page is better in bed
If the wisdom of retrospect makes books like Patti Smith's Just Kids a moving portrait of an era, then it's the naivety of the present moment that makes Pamela Des Barres's I'm With the Band equally profound. Based on the diaries she kept throughout the 60s and 70s while in the inner circles (and beds) of rockers like Mick Jagger, Keith Moon, Jim Morrison, and Jimmy Page, Pamela's 1987 memoir about the rock scene cemented her as the most well-known groupie in the world. She followed the success of her first memoir with more best-selling books, and its even widely believed that Cameron Crowe drew from her memoirs to create the groupie character Penny Lane in his film Almost Famous. But before all that, Pamela was just another 18-year-old in a mini skirt hanging out on the Sunset Strip trying to meet the stars she idolised. It's this sense of wide-eyed giddiness that makes her – and her writing – so appealing. In fact, as Pamela tells me, she was a groupie before groupie's existed – and she's happy to continue to carry the moniker that made her famous. 'Being a groupie always only meant the love of music and the people who make it,' she insists on a video call from her California flat. 'That's all it's ever meant. I was doing this long before the word – the G-word, I call it – came into being. It was a British journalist who first called us groupies, and I had already been hanging out with The Doors and the Byrds for years.' Now 78 years old and as free-spirited as ever, Pamela talks as easily about her love for rock music as she does about her love for sleeping with the men who made it. 'I'm very brutally honest in it,' she says of her speaking events, which blend stories from her book with off-the-cuff reminiscences. 'There's a Q and A after and I'll answer anything. The only thing I don't ever say is who was the best in bed, or who is the biggest. ..people want to know that. Everyone. Well, usually it's a man who asks,' she says, laughing. Beyond that one hard line, she's happy to discuss the nitty gritty details of her famous lovers, claiming that she remembers them all with equal warmth. 'Nick St. Nicholas [Steppenwolf bassist]was my first, and him I was in love with, but all of them, through Jimmy [Page] and Mick [Jagger] and Keith [Moon] all these people. They were the best in bed, because I was with them at that time. I was there for it in the moment. I was immersed right? I'm immersed in whatever I do.' Her other most asked question, she says, is, 'What was Jim Morrison really like?' She laughs when she reads on my face how badly I want to know the answer. 'He was a poet. I knew him early on,' she says, indulging me. 'Actually, I knew him the whole time, yeah, but he changed. You know, he was this exquisite Adonis poet to begin with. And rock and roll ate him up. He was a he was very – not fragile – but sensitive. He carried his poetry book around and he thought being a rock star was funny. It's not what he intended ever.' A natural storyteller, audience members can expect Pamela to go even deeper into questions like these, as well as stories of doing Mescalin and making love to Jimmy Page after seeing Elvis in Vegas, her raunchy fling with Mick Jagger, her close friendship with Gram Parsons, and all of the debauchery she got into with Keith Moon. After a sold-out show during her last visit to London, Pamela is returning on May 2 to the West Hampstead Arts Club to meet fan demand. People keep buying tickets to her shows, as she puts it, 'because of the mythology around these people, whether they're alive or dead. I bring them back to life in a way.' Chris Hillman – original bassist of the Byrds Dated in the 60s, Pamela calls him 'her first real love' Mick Jagger – lead singer of the Rolling Stones Pamela says sex with him 'wasn't a disappointment' Jim Morrison – lead singer of The Doors Pamela says they 'hung out a little bit' Gram Parsons – singer songwriter, member of the Byrds Pamela says they dated a bit Jimi Hendrix Pamela turned him down for sex when she was 16, remembers it as one of her biggest regrets Noel Redding – Jimi Hendrix's bass player Pamela says: 'He made me realise that sex was going to be a lot of fun in my life and I was going to have a good time with it.' Frank Zappa – solo artist and member of Mothers of Invention A mentor to Pamela, Zappa was responsible for creating the GTOS Jimmy Page – Guitarist and leader of Led Zeppelin Pamela says: 'My other true love that I thought I was really, really in love with.' Keith Moon – The drummer for The Who One of Pamela's long term lovers, she remembers him as brilliant but troubled Robert Plant – Lead singer of Led Zeppelin Still one of Pamela's close friends Don Johnson – Miami Vice actor One of Pamela's long-term boyfriends But Pamela – who was also a member of the GTOs, one of the world's first girl rock groups – isn't just a groupie. She (rightfully) positions herself as just as much a part of rock history as any of the men she dated. 'It wasn't just sex,' she explains, 'at that age, there's a lot of sex involved, but it was a whole scene, you know, and I felt that I was equal to these people.' She gives a lot of credit for that feeling to the legendary Frank Zappa, who first formed the GTOs and 'who put us girls as equals to him. You know, he never, I mean… we saw him as our mentor and everything. But he treated us as equals. So that helped me realize I'm as important as anyone else.' Still, it's not lost on her that her free-love take on sex is received very differently because she is a woman, in a way it wasn't for her male counterparts – I'm With The Band was originally met with quite a lot of pearl-clutching from the wider public. But people misunderstood what she was looking for in the first place. 'I was chasing my highest self, like we all are. Everybody wants to touch the divine,' she claims. 'And of course, you know, sex – in this world – is the closest we're going to get. La petite mort. You know that French statement? An orgasm is total bliss, right? So we're all searching for that.' Did she ever find what she was looking for? Yes and no. Reflecting on her famous fling with Jimmy Page, she says: 'I thought we were in love and that he was going to take me to England and all that, because he said so. And I tended to believe my Prince Charmings back then. But, you know, we were off and on for a couple of years, and we had a great time. Same with Keith Moon, same with all my early rock stars, I didn't live with them, sure. 'You know, I'm not Anita Pallenberg, though I could have been. But I mean I'm glad I wasn't, because I'm still here. I met Michael [Des Barres] when I was 25 and we were together 14 years. So I guess I did find love. You can say I found what I was looking for.' While Pamela remains relentlessly positive about the rock scene – a time when many women later spoke out about being victimized and exploited ('I was never mistreated or hurt in any way') – even she is willing to acknowledge the shadows that began to creep in as the 70s unfolded. 'Believe me, I was ready to meet Michael and settle down when the young groupies came along, the real young girls, because there was no way to compete with that,' she says, referring to the infamous 'baby groupies'of the 70s and 80s, underage girls who became a fixture of the rock scene. 'That was the thing on the scene at the time, these girls in these giant platforms were presenting themselves, and they didn't know any better. They were kids really. So they didn't know what they were getting into. But I didn't like it, it didn't feel right to me,' she explains. As quick as Pamela is to agree that some young vulnerable groupies were mistreated throughout this time, she also can't repress her unfaltering loyalty to the religion of rock and roll for long. 'They were so bored. People think it's an exciting, thrilling ride, and sometimes it is. Other times it's very lonely and hard,' she says of touring rock stars. 'So, so they're looking for outside pleasures, you know? And, yeah, that's just the way it was. 'It was a time of freedom and free love. And, you know, there was good and bad in that. There was, you know, just like everything. But for me, the good of that era outweighed the bad in a huge way. I was never harmed, right? I mean, my heart was broken, but that happens in any walk of life.' Reminiscing on how drugs began to change the scene, Pam says that while she 'took a lot of drugs over the years,' she was 'never addictive.' Others, like Graham Parson ('my beloved Graham') weren't so lucky. But Pam is quick to change the subject, 'It was tragic, that side of things. But I don't focus on that in my shows, because everyone knows about that, right? It was a magnificent time, certainly for women. I carried my birth control pill around with me and just took it in front of people proudly, you know. That was revolutionary.' When you listen to it told from Pamela's perspective, being a rock groupie was nothing short of a divine calling, even a feminist accomplishment. But her positivity doesn't feel like ignorance, it feels like hard-won belief in the goodness of people and the magic of music, and one can't help but want to take a peek through her rose-coloured glasses. While most recountings of the early days of rock and roll take for granted that audiences are after acknowledgement of – and even repentance for – the gritty, seedy realities behind the guitar riffs, Pamela is stubbornly insistent on painting a picture of the era's most defining characteristic: Hope. And she refuses to be anything but proud of believing in that hope enough to spend her youth hanging around dressing rooms and tour buses. More Trending She describes the mid 1960s on the Sunset Strip so vividly you can almost see the amber light shining on the Whiskey-a-go-go: 'The rockers all lived in these incredible fairy tale homes in the canyon. All the doors and windows were left open. People would go on the road and leave their homes unlocked. It was just a different time,' she says wistfully. She continues:'Yeah, even though, you know, the drugs came along and kind of f***ed a lot of stuff up, there was so much innocence in that time, incredible hope and belief in oneself, which is really dissipated right now. People are feeling lower right now. Like, lower than humanity has felt in a very long time, right? But at that time, there was, 'Wow, we could do anything.'' Buy a ticket to An Intimate Evening With Pamela Des Barres on May 2 at West Hampstead Arts Club here. Got a story? If you've got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@ calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we'd love to hear from you. MORE: Insane true story behind catchy EasyJet advert song you can't avoid hearing this year MORE: Shoppers go wild as retro favourite sweet from 80s returns to supermarkets MORE: The 5 best James Bond films ever made – including a record-breaking classic
New York Times
31-01-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Barry Goldberg, Who Backed Dylan When He Went Electric, Dies at 83
Barry Goldberg, an acclaimed keyboard player who slipped through a side door into the rock pantheon by taking part in Bob Dylan's epochal electric set at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965, died on Jan. 22 in the Tarzana neighborhood of Los Angeles. He was 83. His son, Aram Goldberg, said the cause of his death, in a hospital, was complications of lymphoma. Mr. Goldberg was part of wave of white musicians who emerged in Chicago in the 1960s — among the others were the singer and harmonica player Paul Butterfield and the guitarist Michael Bloomfield — to create their own brand of blues-based rock. Over the course of his career, he led a band with the guitarist and future hitmaker Steve Miller, and played on indelible recordings like Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels' 1966 Top 10 hit 'Devil With a Blue Dress On/Good Golly Miss Molly,' as well as albums by the Byrds, Leonard Cohen and the Ramones. Relocating in San Francisco for a period in the mid-1960s, Mr. Goldberg joined with Mr. Bloomfield, a friend from high school; the singer Nick Gravenites, another Chicago blues devotee; and the drummer Buddy Miles, who would later work with Jimi Hendrix, and others, to form the Electric Flag, an earthy blues-rock outfit that rode the psychedelic wave and performed at the watershed Monterey International Pop Festival in 1967. Mr. Goldberg also made his mark as a songwriter. He collaborated with the country-rock pioneer Gram Parsons on 'Do You Know How It Feels to Be Lonesome?,' released by the Flying Burrito Brothers in 1969, and with the lyricist Gerry Goffin on Gladys Knight & the Pips' 1973 Top 10 hit 'I've Got to Use My Imagination.' Despite his long résumé, Mr. Goldberg will probably forever be most closely linked with Mr. Dylan, who first achieved fame as a folk singer of the first order but stepped onstage at Newport, R.I., in 1965 in a leather jacket with an electric band and an amplified Fender Stratocaster and, legend has it, seared the ears of an outraged audience filled with folk traditionalists. The history-making set is represented in the climactic scene of the Academy Award-nominated film 'A Complete Unknown,' starring Timothée Chalamet as Mr. Dylan. (Mr. Goldberg is not portrayed in the movie.) What it all meant has been debated for 60 years. Barry Joseph Goldberg was born on Dec. 25, 1941, in Chicago, the only child of Frank Goldberg, who owned a leather tanning factory, and Nettie (Spencer) Goldberg, a pianist and singer who performed in Yiddish theaters around the city. In addition to his son, he is survived by his wife, Gail Goldberg. He learned piano from his mother, and he also learned confidence in performing, despite stage jitters that would last a lifetime. 'It probably had a lot to do with my mother forcing me to play for strangers when I was 8, 9 years old,' he once told Dan Epstein of the Jewish newspaper The Forward. But his real musical education came late at night, listening to South Side blues artists on his transistor radio. 'Things would be unleashed in the music and I could feel the excitement,' he said in a 1996 interview with the site Bloomfield Notes. 'It was wild and uncontrollable,' he added. By his midteens he was traveling with Mr. Bloomfield to blues clubs on the city's South Side, where they mingled with luminaries like Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf and Buddy Guy. At 18, he started performing with Robby and the Troubadours, a band from New York that was cashing in on the twist craze, in nightclubs on Rush Street — which Mr. Goldberg called 'the Bourbon Street of Chicago' — and found himself hanging out at Hugh Hefner's Playboy Mansion. When the Paul Butterfield Blues Band was invited to play the Newport festival on the same Sunday in 1965 as Mr. Dylan, Mr. Goldberg traveled to Newport with the band because he expected to sit in. But in planning the Butterfield band's set, Paul Rothchild, who was producing their first album, informed Mr. Goldberg that he did not want a keyboardist onstage. (Another keyboardist, Mark Naftalin, would join the band a few months later.) 'And that was it,' Mr. Goldberg recalled in a 2022 remembrance of the event, written with Mr. Epstein, in The Forward. 'In one minute, I went from having the greatest time to being completely alone and having no gig. It just destroyed me.' Fate would turn at a party the night before Mr. Dylan's gig, where Mr. Bloomfield and Mr. Goldberg were drafted into an impromptu backing band, along with other Butterfield sidemen. Al Kooper, who had performed the soaring organ part on Mr. Dylan's 'Like a Rolling Stone,' played organ; Mr. Goldberg played piano. To Mr. Goldberg, it was a natural fit. 'We were three Jewish guys from the Midwest who had similar backgrounds, similar attitudes and even the same clothes,' he recalled in The Forward. 'When I met Bob at the party, he was wearing tapered pants and pointed boots, just like I was. Bob could tell we were cool, that we were at Newport to play music and not just to 'make the scene.'' Tremors were already felt at the soundcheck before the Dylan performance. Peter Yarrow of Peter, Paul and Mary, who was serving as the M.C. that evening, 'kept yelling at us to turn down,' Mr. Goldberg recalled. 'Every time Yarrow yelled at us, I could see Michael glaring back at him like, 'Oh, just you wait.'' 'When we went on,' he said in a 2018 video interview, 'Michael turned his guitar up at nine, and it was just electrifying.' 'This,' he added, 'was rock 'n' roll.' However famous it quickly became, Mr. Dylan's electric set lasted only three songs: 'Maggie's Farm,' 'Like a Rolling Stone' and 'It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry.' He then returned for a brief acoustic encore. As portrayed in 'A Complete Unknown' and in countless critical appraisals, the performance was one of the most seismic of the 20th century — Mr. Dylan tilting the popular music world off its axis, bidding farewell to a stodgy yesterday for countless incandescent tomorrows ruled by rock. There is another view. 'In most tellings, Dylan represents youth and the future, and the people who booed were stuck in the dying past,' Elijah Wald wrote in 'Dylan Goes Electric!' (2015). 'But there is another version, in which the audience represents youth and hope, and Dylan was shutting himself off behind a wall of electric noise, locking himself in a citadel of wealth and power.' Still, to Mr. Goldberg, the new era was welcome. 'At the end, there were boos but also cheers,' he said in a 2013 interview with Rolling Stone magazine. Those who were upset presumably 'felt betrayed by him,' he said. 'But Bob was creating a new kind of music, and after we were done, everyone knew how special it was.'
