Miles Davis and the album that got “burned” into Grace Slick’s brain
Music is more than sounds; it’s more than something to tap your toes to or sing in the shower, as on every level, music is embedded into our very souls, soundtracking core memories, holding the key to big feelings.
From happy times to sad ones, memories of excitement to moments of calm, there will be a song that can unlock it all, and for Grace Slick, one album held so much, it felt genuinely burnt into her brain.
Music is powerful enough for that to happen on its own, but when you then add the power of drugs to iy, you’re essentially opening up a little gap in your brain through illicit substances, and then sliding the album in there to store forever. That’s the reason why the acid tests merged quickly with concerts, or why every subculture or cultural moment seems to come along with its drug of choice, like speed in the 1990s, or weed in the early 1960s.
The whole point of music is to heighten emotions, so naturally it would become a key cornerstone to the world of drugs, where heightened sensations rule across the border. Together, it levels everything up to a skin-shivering, body-tingling, heart-filling sensation when the drums kick in, or a lyric hits just right, not that I’m at all advocating for it. I’m simply explaining why to Grace Slick, hearing a certain album, at a certain time, on a certain substance, didn’t just stick with her, but felt genuinely embedded in her brain chemistry.
In a conversation with Goldmine magazine, Slick started talking about music that seems tailor-made to be enjoyed while on drugs. “I thought the same way about Sketches of Spain by Miles Davis and Gil Evans,” she said, picking out the early 1960 album from Davis and his then-regular collaborator, Evans. It’s one of the albums that helped move the former from a great jazz player to a great artist, full stop, as he seemed to be truly finding his own sound outside of standards.
For Slick, hearing it under the influence was a revelation. “I once took some acid and listened to that album for 24 hours straight,” she said, adding, “It was literally burned into my brain!”
After a 24-hour marathon, any song would end up sticking in your mind, but this was more than that, as this was something like hypnosis where Slick fell in love with Davis, with acid and with what the combination of the right substance and the right album could do.
However, it could go the other way. While people talk about Woodstock like a rose-tinted slice of heaven, Slick’s experience was the opposite, and it was because of drugs, where she loved acid off stage, but onstage, it was more of a hindrance.
“We usually did not take acid on purpose because it can really mess with your perception of things,” she admitted, as playing the Jefferson Airplane tracks required at least some level of focus that acid din’t really allow. During the festival, though, there was a slight mix-up to the tune of “Oh boy. Oops!”
