Yet again…the Airplane was an amazing live and recording band…Kantner a fine rhythm guitarist and songwriter. Casady, Kaukonen, Slick… damn.
Paul Kantner, one of the giants of the San Francisco music scene, died Thursday, Jan. 28, of multiple organ failure. Mr. Kantner, founding member of the Jefferson Airplane, was 74 and had suffered a heart attack earlier this week.
His death was confirmed by longtime publicist and friend, Cynthia Bowman, who said he died of multiple organ failure and septic shock..
Mr. Kantner suffered from a string of health problems in recent years, including a heart attack in March 2015.
With Jefferson Airplane, Mr. Kantner pioneered what became known as the San Francisco sound in the mid-1960s, with such hits as "Somebody to Love" and "White Rabbit."
The Airplane was renowned for thrilling vocal gymnastics by singers Marty Balin, Grace Slick and Mr. Kantner, the psychedelic blues-rock sound developed by guitarist Jorma Kaukonen and bass player Jack Casady and the LSD-spiked, '60s-era revolutionary fervor of its lyrics.
The band was formed in a Union Street bar called the Drinking Gourd, when lead Balin met Mr. Kantner and expressed his interest in forming a "folk-rock" band. It didn't take long for the Airplane to attract a sizable local following, enough so that when fledgling promoter Bill Graham opened his legendary Fillmore Auditorium, the Jefferson Airplane served as the first headliner.
The Airplane was the first of the so-called "San Francisco sound" bands to sign a recording contract with a major label, and in August of 1966, its debut album, “The Jefferson Airplane Takes Off," was released. Slick joined the band a year later and songs like "Somebody to Love" and "White Rabbit" became national hits as the love children came streaming into San Francisco.
The group quickly became an integral part of the ‘6os rock scene, from the Matrix club to Golden Gate Park's "Human Be-In" to Monterey Pop. The Airplane's high point may have been its sterling early-morning performance at Woodstock, while its nadir may have come only months later, at the violence-plagued Altamont concert, when Balin was knocked unconscious by the rampaging Hells Angels.
After the band was grounded by feuds and a lawsuit, Mr. Kantner and vocalist Grace Slick transformed the band into Jefferson Starship in 1974, taking the name from a Kantner solo album.
When Mr. Kantner left the Starship in 1985, he accepted an $80,000 settlement in exchange for a promise not to use the names "Jefferson" or "Airplane" without Slick's consent.
Slick stayed with the Starship and had a hit with "We Built This City" before the band folded in the late 1980s.
A sometimes prickly, often sarcastic musician who kept his own counsel and routinely enraged his old bandmates — they sued him for trademark infringement (and settled) after he started his own version of Jefferson Starship in 1991 -- Mr. Kantner lived to become something of a landmark on the San Francisco music scene, the only member of the pioneer '60s San Francisco band still living in town.
"Somebody once said, if you want to go crazy go to San Francisco," he said. "Nobody will notice."
Mr. Kanner was inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1996 for his work with the Jefferson Airplane during the band's glory years -- from the breakthrough 1967 "Surrealistic Pillow" album through historic rock festivals such as Woodstock and Altamont.
"We never made plans," said Mr. Kantner, "Well, we made plans, but they went awry. It was good to have a plan in case they didn't go awry."
He maintained a strenuous touring schedule, performing regularly with some version of the Jefferson Starship name. His group sometimes included Jefferson Airplane vocalist and co-founder Marty Balin, as well as David Freiberg of the Quicksilver Messenger Service, another leading Bay Area band from the '60s.
"When I look back on it, that's probably longer than any of the other bands I've been in," Mr. Kantner said.
Paul Lorin Kantner was born in San Francisco on March 17, 1941.
His father, a traveling salesman, sent Mr. Kantner to military school after his mother’s death. He sought escape in science fiction books and music, before being inspired by Pete Seeger to follow a path as a folk singer. He attended Santa Clara University and San Jose State College before dropping out to pursue music.
When not on the road with his band, Mr. Kantner was a fixture at Caffe Trieste in North Beach.
"I've always loved San Francisco better than anywhere,” he said. “It's always had its problems, but just the weather alone, the views. This corner alone has proved so nourishing."
Mr. Kantner is survived by three children; sons Gareth and Alexander, and daughter China.
Funeral arrangements are pending.
It's been a bad month.
One of the giants
RIP
Just saw him @ Great South Bay Musicfest in August.
Breeze blowing...they played "Volunteers". Paul giving the "Peace" sign.
He had a damn good run.
sigh.....more days like these are coming
RIP Paul
Very sad to read this -- Rest In Peace Mr. Kantner -- thank you for the tremendous music you gave us
Sad , sad news......:( 🙁 🙁
I listened to Blows Against The Empire and Sunfighter just last weekend.
If you only know his music from what he wrote and performed with Jefferson Airplane, you owe it to yourself to check these two out as they are both excellent.
RIP Paul Kantner and godspeed to you on your star trip...
[Edited on 1/30/2016 by les_paul_sunburst]
Man, another great musician down, RIP Paul Kantner.
If I'm an older Rock Star, I'd be looking over my shoulder.
Journey into light
Suspended in intensity
Invent the night...where silence reigns
Over there
Where frontiers end and borders are gone
I'm in a circle of fire ...your light is with me now
A circle of fire...no fear of danger
No loss of control
Inside the circle of fire in the best years of our lives
Circle of Fire
"Circle of Fire, from his underrated 1983 solo record Planet Earth Rock n Roll Orchestra, which has most of the Airplane/early Starship on it
RIP bro, you've made Mt. Shasta 😉
Hijack the Starship Paul! We will join you on the other side of the sun....
Here are a few words from Jorma, re Paul's passing:
Signe Anderson, Jorma Kaukonen, Paul Kantner
Here’s to us, and those like us… damn few left…
We knew yesterday that Paul had suffered a grievous heart attack and probably wasn’t going to make it. We all hoped for better news, but it just wasn’t to be.
Paul and I were old friends. Bob Kinzie introduced me to him when I was in Santa Clara in ‘62. Our commonality was always the music and whatever it took to make it happen. We all played the same little dusty, smoky rooms… struggled to be heard over the hiss of espresso machines… and loved every moment of it. When Paul enticed me into joining what would become Jefferson Airplane, we rehearsed relentlessly. When we went on the road in the beginning we couch surfed together. No one could afford hotels. We shared food… we shared cars… we had one heart.
The Airplane was an amazing aggregate of personalities and talent. That we could all coexist in the same room was amazing. That we could function together and make the lasting art that we did was nothing short of a miracle. In my opinion Paul was the catalyst that made the alchemy happen. He held our feet to the flame. He could be argumentative and contentious… he could be loving and kind… his dedication to the Airplane’s destiny as he saw it was undeniable. Over the years he and I occasionally butted heads over things that seem trivial today. I was so pleased last year when he accepted my dinner invitation when I was in San Francisco and indeed we rediscovered our friendship.
After all those journeys together in the beginning… the different paths our lives took as we got older and all the water under the bridge made us all one in a way that no one who wasn’t there could ever understand. We shared water from the same well. In Heinlein parlance, we were indeed water brothers. We were all on fire in a fiery time. Time may have dimmed the flame but the fire in the sky that was so easy to see in youth, is still discernible from the grey castle if you know where to look. I will try to keep my eyes open.
Friends are always good… you can’t have too many of them. That said, the old ones share that wondrous gift of knowing you when you were young. You can’t buy that.
I will miss your presence on this plane…
Ride free to the end of the earth my old friend… I will not forget you!
Hijack the Starship Paul! We will join you on the other side of the sun....
Here are a few words from Jorma, re Paul's passing:
Here’s to us, and those like us… damn few left…
We knew yesterday that Paul had suffered a grievous heart attack and probably wasn’t going to make it. We all hoped for better news, but it just wasn’t to be.
Paul and I were old friends. Bob Kinzie introduced me to him when I was in Santa Clara in ‘62. Our commonality was always the music and whatever it took to make it happen. We all played the same little dusty, smoky rooms… struggled to be heard over the hiss of espresso machines… and loved every moment of it. When Paul enticed me into joining what would become Jefferson Airplane, we rehearsed relentlessly. When we went on the road in the beginning we couch surfed together. No one could afford hotels. We shared food… we shared cars… we had one heart.
The Airplane was an amazing aggregate of personalities and talent. That we could all coexist in the same room was amazing. That we could function together and make the lasting art that we did was nothing short of a miracle. In my opinion Paul was the catalyst that made the alchemy happen. He held our feet to the flame. He could be argumentative and contentious… he could be loving and kind… his dedication to the Airplane’s destiny as he saw it was undeniable. Over the years he and I occasionally butted heads over things that seem trivial today. I was so pleased last year when he accepted my dinner invitation when I was in San Francisco and indeed we rediscovered our friendship.
After all those journeys together in the beginning… the different paths our lives took as we got older and all the water under the bridge made us all one in a way that no one who wasn’t there could ever understand. We shared water from the same well. In Heinlein parlance, we were indeed water brothers. We were all on fire in a fiery time. Time may have dimmed the flame but the fire in the sky that was so easy to see in youth, is still discernible from the grey castle if you know where to look. I will try to keep my eyes open.
Friends are always good… you can’t have too many of them. That said, the old ones share that wondrous gift of knowing you when you were young. You can’t buy that.
I will miss your presence on this plane…
Ride free to the end of the earth my old friend… I will not forget you!
Wow..quite poetic and bittersweet. Jorma is an amazing musician and individual, and the Airplane indeed unique. I feel fortunate to have been young at the same time as he and the others, and really glad he and Casady are still here and still brilliant. Thanks for the post.
RIP Paul 🙁
We're losing them fast now! 🙁
I liked a lot of the Airplane's stuff and loved Jefferson Starship before the Mickey Thomas albums.
Hope Paul's jamming with Bowie and the rest... the band's getting big up there!
Hijack the Starship Paul! We will join you on the other side of the sun....
Here are a few words from Jorma, re Paul's passing:
Here’s to us, and those like us… damn few left…
We knew yesterday that Paul had suffered a grievous heart attack and probably wasn’t going to make it. We all hoped for better news, but it just wasn’t to be.
Paul and I were old friends. Bob Kinzie introduced me to him when I was in Santa Clara in ‘62. Our commonality was always the music and whatever it took to make it happen. We all played the same little dusty, smoky rooms… struggled to be heard over the hiss of espresso machines… and loved every moment of it. When Paul enticed me into joining what would become Jefferson Airplane, we rehearsed relentlessly. When we went on the road in the beginning we couch surfed together. No one could afford hotels. We shared food… we shared cars… we had one heart.
The Airplane was an amazing aggregate of personalities and talent. That we could all coexist in the same room was amazing. That we could function together and make the lasting art that we did was nothing short of a miracle. In my opinion Paul was the catalyst that made the alchemy happen. He held our feet to the flame. He could be argumentative and contentious… he could be loving and kind… his dedication to the Airplane’s destiny as he saw it was undeniable. Over the years he and I occasionally butted heads over things that seem trivial today. I was so pleased last year when he accepted my dinner invitation when I was in San Francisco and indeed we rediscovered our friendship.
After all those journeys together in the beginning… the different paths our lives took as we got older and all the water under the bridge made us all one in a way that no one who wasn’t there could ever understand. We shared water from the same well. In Heinlein parlance, we were indeed water brothers. We were all on fire in a fiery time. Time may have dimmed the flame but the fire in the sky that was so easy to see in youth, is still discernible from the grey castle if you know where to look. I will try to keep my eyes open.
Friends are always good… you can’t have too many of them. That said, the old ones share that wondrous gift of knowing you when you were young. You can’t buy that.
I will miss your presence on this plane…
Ride free to the end of the earth my old friend… I will not forget you!
Wow..quite poetic and bittersweet. Jorma is an amazing musician and individual, and the Airplane indeed unique. I feel fortunate to have been young at the same time as he and the others, and really glad he and Casady are still here and still brilliant. Thanks for the post.
Beautifully said Jorma ...:)
[Edited on 1/30/2016 by les_paul_sunburst]
Hijack the Starship Paul! We will join you on the other side of the sun....
Here are a few words from Jorma, re Paul's passing:
Signe Anderson, Jorma Kaukonen, Paul Kantner
Here’s to us, and those like us… damn few left…
We knew yesterday that Paul had suffered a grievous heart attack and probably wasn’t going to make it. We all hoped for better news, but it just wasn’t to be.
Paul and I were old friends. Bob Kinzie introduced me to him when I was in Santa Clara in ‘62. Our commonality was always the music and whatever it took to make it happen. We all played the same little dusty, smoky rooms… struggled to be heard over the hiss of espresso machines… and loved every moment of it. When Paul enticed me into joining what would become Jefferson Airplane, we rehearsed relentlessly. When we went on the road in the beginning we couch surfed together. No one could afford hotels. We shared food… we shared cars… we had one heart.
The Airplane was an amazing aggregate of personalities and talent. That we could all coexist in the same room was amazing. That we could function together and make the lasting art that we did was nothing short of a miracle. In my opinion Paul was the catalyst that made the alchemy happen. He held our feet to the flame. He could be argumentative and contentious… he could be loving and kind… his dedication to the Airplane’s destiny as he saw it was undeniable. Over the years he and I occasionally butted heads over things that seem trivial today. I was so pleased last year when he accepted my dinner invitation when I was in San Francisco and indeed we rediscovered our friendship.
After all those journeys together in the beginning… the different paths our lives took as we got older and all the water under the bridge made us all one in a way that no one who wasn’t there could ever understand. We shared water from the same well. In Heinlein parlance, we were indeed water brothers. We were all on fire in a fiery time. Time may have dimmed the flame but the fire in the sky that was so easy to see in youth, is still discernible from the grey castle if you know where to look. I will try to keep my eyes open.
Friends are always good… you can’t have too many of them. That said, the old ones share that wondrous gift of knowing you when you were young. You can’t buy that.
I will miss your presence on this plane…
Ride free to the end of the earth my old friend… I will not forget you!
What a beautiful eulogy and thanks for posting that. I put it on Facebook.
Sad news indeed. Grim Reaper working overtime in 2016.
How bizarre, i just read that Signe Toly Anderson passed away too on the same day as Paul Kantner 🙁 .
Signe Toly Anderson passed away too on the same day as Paul Kantner
what are the odds, this is just weird
Posted this before in a Blows Against the Empire thread... fantastic Youtube slideshow, beautiful Jefferson Starship from the Planet Earth Rock and Roll Orchestra, Croz on vox, Garcia pedal steel,
Have You Seen The Stars Tonight? Turn the lights off, bring up full screen and take a break for a couple minutes...
youtube link:
