Everyone knows what Woodstock became. But what about those who took the stage—on no sleep, no schedule, and sometimes no clue whether the amps would even work? This is the story of Woodstock from the performers’ side of the mic—and the B-sides, deep cuts, and unplanned moments that told the real tale of a cultural eruption.
Richie Havens – The Accidental Opener & “Handsome Johnny”
Richie Havens wasn’t supposed to open Woodstock. But chaos reigned from the start, and he was pushed onstage hours early. After exhausting every song he knew, he turned to rhythm, repetition, and the heat of the moment to improvise “Freedom”—one of the most iconic live moments in rock history.
But backtrack: “Handsome Johnny,” a protest song co-written with Louis Gossett Jr., was already in his repertoire. It wasn’t a chart hit. It wasn’t “Freedom.” But it captured the fear, frustration, and fire of a generation hurtling into the unknown. A true B-side with frontline impact.
The Who – Dawn Violence & “Sparks”
Scheduled for late Saturday night but only hitting the stage after 5 a.m., The Who were irritated, exhausted, and wired. When Abbie Hoffman rushed the stage, Pete Townshend gave him a guitar-swat heard 'round the counterculture.
Then came “Sparks,” the instrumental journey tucked inside Tommy. On record, it was hypnotic. At Woodstock, it became spiritual. No lyrics. No explanation. Just power.
While “My Generation” may have exploded into rock canon, “Sparks” lit the fuse that echoed into dawn—a track that never charted but burned into history.
Jefferson Airplane – Daybreak Dissonance & “Won’t You Try/Saturday Afternoon”
By the time Grace Slick hit the mic, the crowd was half-asleep, half-tripping, fully overwhelmed. It was 8 a.m. on Sunday, and Jefferson Airplane dropped into “Won’t You Try/Saturday Afternoon,” a sprawling psych-freakout from their 1967 B-side trove.
Where mainstream radio wanted hits, the Airplane delivered head trips. They weren’t playing for the charts—they were playing for the moment. It was performance as protest, melody as madness.
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – New Band, Raw Nerves & “Long Time Gone”
Their second public performance. On the biggest stage in the world. No pressure. CSNY were the clean-cut rebels of the scene—but that didn’t mean they were polished. “We’re scared shitless,” David Crosby confessed between songs.
“Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” was the showstopper. But it was “Long Time Gone”—a song of political grief, written in the aftermath of RFK’s assassination—that cracked open something deeper.
It wasn’t a single. It wasn’t a singalong. It was raw truth. A B-side beating like a pulse beneath the moment.
Jimi Hendrix – A War Cry, Then a Whisper: “Villanova Junction”
Jimi Hendrix closed Woodstock—not on Sunday, but on Monday morning, long after most of the crowd had drifted away. His “Star-Spangled Banner” became myth. But after the distortion died down, he slipped into a gentle, emotional track that almost no one talks about: “Villanova Junction.”
It’s an instrumental—dreamy, intimate, totally uncommercial. But it was Hendrix unplugged emotionally, even if his Strat was still electric.
This was Jimi’s last note at Woodstock. Not fire. Not fury. But grace. A true B-side moment for the ages.
Read More: The B-Side Trail from Bethel to Legacy
Want more from the edges of the main stage? Let’s go deeper. These aren't just footnotes—they're fuel for your rock soul:
The Bootlegs That Brought the B-Sides Home
Woodstock’s official soundtrack cut corners. But bootlegs and live tapes uncovered full performances, including those B-side gems radio ignored. Think: Mountain’s “Blood of the Sun” or Janis Joplin’s cover of “Work Me, Lord”. Raw, wild, unfiltered.
Forgotten Sets, Lost Songs
Some sets—like The Band’s or Creedence Clearwater Revival’s—were either omitted or barely featured in official footage. Explore the tracks that never made the cut: CCR’s “Keep on Chooglin’”, or The Band’s haunting “I Shall Be Released.”
Final Riff: The B-Sides of the Revolution
Woodstock wasn’t just a concert. It was a cosmic jam session that leaked into history. And beneath the headlines, the hits, and the hallucinations, it was the B-sides that whispered the truth. The deep cuts. The improvisations. The songs played in the haze of morning or on nerves of steel.
They didn’t always chart—but they changed the weather.
Comments
Post a Comment