The attitude seemed to hold when we played two Beatles songs, "Revolution" (the slow version off the White Album, not the raucous rocker on the flip side of "Hey Jude") and "Blackbird." In retrospect, there may have been some, perhaps many in the audience who wanted a revolution and resented those who chose to be counted out, as John Lennon demanded. Racial tensions continued to simmer throughout the country in the summer of '68, which ended that very night.
Even though we were playing well, a cold perspiration of unease was forming all over my body. When a single person applauded a Beatles song we were suddenly feeling what it was like to bomb. By now we had lost confidence in our entire playlist, but knew we couldn't powwow in the middle of a gig and try to change it. For good or bad, w
