Music on the Cusp From Folk to Acid Rock in Portland Coffeehouses, 1967–1970
by Valerie Brown c. 2007
“The people with whom you share the suffering of sudden growth are linked in magical ways, and these can be the people who really know you best.” — Jon Adams
This article is about what I was doing and the places I was going when I was in high school.. and it captures so many memories for me. Those were creative times, when some of us forewent the idea of making money in favor of living for the joy of creating and exploring ideas. This article is about the music culture of those times in Portland, but there were also artists and writers and political satirists who hung out with our group of friends, some of whom went to other high schools (I went to Beaverton and Aloha High) — Lincoln and Wilson and Tigard.
I didn’t play music, but the original music and the collaborative sessions between the musicians I knew, inspired my writing, photography and art ideas. I preferred the smaller coffee house venues, and the folk-like music over the big crowds at the Pythian or Crystal Ballrooms. I was so disappointed at the demise of the collaborative participatory art and music culture when (as this article so aptly describes) the baby boom generation moved to the bars for dancing and disco.
I was a little too young for the beatnik scene, but I do remember going to one of those cafes when I was maybe 10 or 11 with my parents. It may have been Cafe Espresso. There were candles stuck in wine bottles with wax dripping over them, and as I remember there were table coverings that you could draw or write poetry on, and they served spaghetti. I never could find the spot again, but I’m pretty sure it was near the Portland State campus.
The remnants remained in the form of these countercuture coffee houses where I liked to hang out as a teenager. I find it interesting that it was the churches who created and nourished the scene (no profit motive.. I’m sure profits would have been impossible) and the government sponsored one of the biggest rock festivals I ever went to, for a surprising reason! I think of those days as similar to the pre-war Paris years when the American expatriates gathered for freedom and creativity. Perhaps the Portland artists never gained the fame of the Hemingway crowd, but I believe the creative soup was similar.
Some of the things I remember, which were left out of the article:
1. Bob Koski’s name under the photo of Notary Sojac. Steve is on the far right and Bob is next to Tom McMeekan between Tom and Steve. Bob died in 2006. I went to his celebration of life in October 2006, where the other members of Notary Sojac also came, as well as some of the other people mentioned in this article, including Rick Gooch.
2. What was the name of the owner of Alice’s Restaurant, and is he mentioned in the article? I remember him well; he was really OLD (maybe 30?) and his birthday was the same day as mine, March 17th. He was very protective of us teenage girls. One time he even drove Becky and me home after the cafe closed. We had concocted stories for our parents and planned to stay out all night.. maybe he just didn’t want to get into trouble for harboring underage girls, but he always made sure we stayed out of trouble! We were pretty naive and he kept the guys who had seedier intentions away from us.
3. The name of the group Sleezy Pieces came from the movie title “Five Easy Pieces” and originally they were called 5 Sleezy Pieces.
4. My favorite band who played most weekends at Alice’s Restaurant, Sterling Stem and the Bumcounts. I think there were usually just three members: Doug Downer, Rich Englund, and Greg Nordling. I think sometimes Earl Benson sat in with them, and sometimes there may have been various drummers who I didn’t know.
5. The few times I went to Lair Hill Park nothing was happening there. 6. The Goose Hollow neighborhood, and Big Pink, the Victorian home where Sand lived, is omitted from this article. I think that neighborhood is one that was sacrificed when the new freeway exchanges were built, leading out of Canyon Drive into Portland.
The time was brief, only 3 years or so, and I’m glad I was there. And I’m really glad this author documented this bit of Portland history.