The two supergroups Jimi Hendrix wanted to form before his death
The brilliance of Jimi Hendrix‘s work will forever be tinged by the tragedy of unrealised possibilities that he left behind. Frank Zappa wanted to pair him with someone who could write music so that his brimming imagination could be transposed for orchestras and an array of instruments outside of the electric guitar; a slew of artists wanted to collaborate with him, and the sci-fi buff even had plans to make a film. All of these were tragically lost when he passed away on September 18th, 1970.
Perhaps the two most appealing potentials that fate cruelly stripped us of were the supergroups he had planned to be part of prior to his death. While it has to be said that his Experience group with Noel Redding and Mitch Mitchell were already almost of a supergroup ilk, with the rhythm section following his moves with perfection, the pizzazz that would’ve come with some of his match-ups as his star rose within music would’ve been a force to behold.
The first musical threesome he had his eyes on was a collaboration with Miles Davis and Paul McCartney. Davis was the jazzman who turned the genre towards rock, and McCartney was always one of Hendrix’s heroes, with the star admiring his complex orchestration. As far back as 1969, the guitarist had tried to persuade Macca to be part of a group. Although, he did so in a typically slapdash fashion.
During the week, Hendrix sent the following telegram to The Beatles’ offices: “We are recording an LP together this weekend. How about coming in to play bass stop call Alan Douglas 212-5812212. Peace Jimi Hendrix Miles Davis Tony Williams.” Sadly, McCartney was on vacation at the time, so it’s unclear whether he even saw the message. However, you’d imagine he would’ve certainly been interested given that he places Hendrix as the best guitarist in history, and he would perfectly bring his compositional nouse to the virtuosity of the would-be group.
Alas, this wasn’t the only attempt that Hendrix made to form a supergroup. On another occasion, he reached out to Love songwriter Arthur Lee and English R&B maestro Steve Winwood, who was in Traffic at the time (the band, not vehicular congestion), and an assortment of other stars. As Love’s Johnny Echols told Mojo: ”Jimi was an acquaintance of mine, but he was a friend of Arthur’s.”
”After Love had gone their separate ways, Jimi and Arthur recorded together again [three tracks at London’s Olympic Studios in March ’70],” he continued, ”And they were talking about putting together a supergroup with Stevie Winwood as the vocalist, Buddy Miles on drums, and some other players, but it never got any further because Jimi passed away.”
While these failed projects might seem like despairing what-could-have-beens, Hendrix left plenty behind to quell any bemoaning. Besides, he was such a singular force that perhaps crowding him would’ve been like stars trying to show up against the sun anyhow. As Pete Townshend said: ”When you saw him in the live arena he was like a shaman. It’s the only word I can use. I don’t know if it’s the right term. Light seemed to come out of him. He would walk onstage and suddenly he would explode into light. He was very graceful.”
Adding: “What Jimi was doing was sublime. It was an epiphany in the actual dictionary definition of the word. You felt pained because in his presence and in the presence of that music, you felt small. And you realised how far you had to go.”
