MIKE CUTHBERTSON
Arts Writer

In 1967, 100,000 young hippies took to San Francisco for the “Summer of Love.” Here, psychedelia was all the rage (think paisley-covered hippies stoned on acid, grooving to psych-rock). Amidst this, The Grateful Dead, Buffalo Springfield and Jefferson Airplane popularized the “San Francisco sound.” For me, this mélange of blues, folk and psych-rock peaked with Jefferson Airplane’s album Surrealistic Pillow.

The title comes from Jerry Garcia’s remark: “It sounds as surrealistic as a pillow is soft.” Indeed, the album feels quite supernatural. For starters, it’s how they use enough reverb to drown a small child. But it’s also the ethereal vocals that dance and play off each other (“D.C.B.A” is a prime example). Principally though, it’s Grace Slick who takes you somewhere surreal.

Hearing her for the first time, I was paralyzed. In a time when guys sang girly pop tunes, here was this girl howling over heavy guitars. She also is great at making her voice “tremolo” like a guitar. Just hear the ending on “White Rabbit” — she will blow your mind.

Vocal harmonies are partly to blame for my obsession with ’60s music and this album is no exception. Its harmonies will lift you high and cut you deep. For example, the gentle voices on “Today” blend to make the sweetest of sounds. But other harmonies — like those on “She Has Funny Cars” — weave a deep, almost electric sound.

From their lyrics, you can tell Jefferson Airplane were hippies. The album looks at life on the fringe of society and fantasies of love. “White Rabbit,” while veiled behind the words of Alice in Wonderland, is obviously about a psychedelic experience.

But the most haunting words and melody are on the ballad “Comin’ Back to Me.” On it, Marty Balin sing-talks with the kind of emotional weight we reserve for solitary reflection. One can’t help but be infected with the infatuation and longing we hear in his voice.

While there is no weak link in this lineup, Grace Slick remains the real genius. She is the reason I got into this band. Likewise, her departure from the band in 1972 is the reason I refuse to hear Jefferson Starship. Sorry but Jefferson Starship is just a bastardization of the Airplane.

To me, Grace Slick was the most alluring woman of her era. Arguably the first female rock star. Her voice was filled with danger and soul. She was a pretty wild partier, but she also had a sweet, innocent side.

While the dream world of 1967 has gone away, Surrealistic Pillow can take us back. It’s the kind of album I pull out to remind me of everything missing in today’s music. Of course, most of you aren’t stuck in the ’60s like some of us. Lately I’ve asked myself, am I right about the ’60s having better musicians, or do I just like the exoticism of hearing music from a different time?

Rest assured, Surrealistic Pillow is both a timeless musical feat and a dated relic from the height of psych-rock.