Last night one of our local PBS stations, KBDI-12 (whose GM, the inimitable Dr. Wick Rowland, was my dissertation chair at CU) ran The Rolling Stones Rock & Roll Circus. The 1968 event “comprised two concerts on a circus stage, and included acts such as Eric Clapton, The Who, John Lennon, Taj Mahal, Marianne Faithfull, and Jethro Tull. John Lennon and Yoko Ono also performed as part of a supergroup called The Dirty Mac, along with Eric Clapton, Mitch Mitchell, and Matthew S. McGuire.”
About that last bit. This was all wonderfully surreal stuff for awhile. Talk about a rare glimpse into just how damned weird the late ’60s were. I was blown away by the very concept of The Dirty Mac: Lennon on vox and guitar, Clapton on lead, Keith Richards on bass and Mitch Mitchell on drums. And man, how awesome it was for about a song and a half.
But at that point, goddamned Yoko wandered up on stage and started screeching at the microphone like it was an invading alien and the only way to kill it was by melting its eardrums. Clapton has this look on his face that says “just keep playing, mate – and can somebody get me a little less of the vocals in my monitor? Please? Anybody?”
That was about all I saw of the show. I imagine it rebounded nicely once they tasered Yoko and dumped her in the alley (at least, that’s what I assume they did – really, she left them no alternative; unless, of course, they were all high on moose tranquilizers). But my ears were done for the night.
All of which reminded me of what may have been the most supremely magical moment in television in history – the Powerpuff Girls Meet the Beat Alls episode.
Moko Jono, indeed.