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The Psychedelic Supermarket

   A stranger club there never was. This club was in the bottom floor of a parking garage. The club felt like, you guessed it, a garage. I remember it as just an empty space and a concrete floor but I have read other recollections which include seats, so they might have come in at some point.


Wonderful page with pictures and memories.........http://www.angelfire.com/ca/oldtimers/KenMelville.html

Some of the same pictures with some more comments........http://www.thetrickismusic.com/?p=3941#more-3941


Some real info here with a line up of groups that played the club.. ......... http://rockprosopography101.blogspot.com/search/label/Boston


At the same address now is a biomedical research building owned by Boston Univerisity...........Wikipedia has info and a picture.... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metcalf_Center_for_Science_and_Engineering


Ramparts magazine in 8/1968 reported a problem with Janis's date at the club.....Albert B. Grossman, the groupís manager, just how surprised you feel when you wake up in the morning on a sunny Boston day and find $5,000 worth of equipment was heisted the night before from the Psychedelic Supermarket and thereís two sets to play that night and a concert tomorrow afternoon and you canít even get into the club because thereís a symposium on the "Boston Sound" going on.


   I came across this in The Tech a MIT paper....."Big Brother and The Holding Company follows Cream, The Electric Flag, The Mothers, The Grateful Dead, Moby Grape, the Fugs and Procol Harum in their appearance at the Psychedelic Supermarket. According to Miss Terry Towne, a secretary behind the scenes there, a general facelifting is in store for the place, with a new elevated ceiling ( which will allow for an improved light show) and a brick floor over the present concrete. The floor will continue to be empty of chairs, as is the setup at both the Fillmore and the Avalon in SF, to encourage people to dance.


11/13/2005 Boston Globe interview of Billy Squire:
The Psychedelic Supermarket was the first nightclub you played regularly in the '60s. What was that like?
   It was just outside Kenmore Square, down an alley, no windows, not particularly high ceilings. Not a magic place like the [Boston] Tea Party, just a very industrial place. But I had a lot of great times there. We'd open for the Grateful Dead, the Moody Blues, Steve Miller. I spent six nights at [Eric] Clapton's feet when Cream came there.


11/14/67 The Harvard Crimson spotlights a Chuck Berry gig there. of all things... It is the Psychedelic Supermarket, a damp basement garage just off Kenmore Square. No more than a dozen people sit at tables near the stage -- mostly teeny bopper couples with happy-colored beads and sad faces. Two workmen in cover-alls are folding up unused tables and chairs and dragging them past the three men.
   The sound system screams psychedelic music. "I'm so glad, I'm so glad, I'm so glad." He stares at his feet, trying not to notice the workmen. "I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad."
   Album covers line the near wall. The Electric Prunes, Surrealistic Pillow, Fresh Cream, The Grateful Dead--all call out in glaring psychedelic script. Yet there was something in that ancient face of 36 years, smiling weakly in the shadows, that recalls a younger, simpler time.


   One of the times I went there my classmate Chris Martin was playing in his group Morgan. He was always good and had bands into the 90's. The other band always was a vivid memory for me. They played long meandering pieces that became one big opus. I just sank into the music that night. They also had an all time great name: The Third World Raspberry.

   I kept an article that talks about the club and the gig that night. I don't know the paper. The year was 1968.

'Boston Sound' hits hip place.


By WILLIAM PHILLIPS
   If there were any doubt in your mind, or if, for that matter, you never knew, that Boston is rapidly becoming a musically hip place, a trip to the first Boston Pop Festival now running at the Psychedelic Supermarket would set you straight. The Festival, which began last Friday and continues every night through this Saturday, is sponsored by the Boston Arts Project and is designed primarily as a forum for local folk, rock and jazz talent. "We are trying to promote the 'Boston Sound,' " said Harry Chickles, the director of the Festival, "by which I mean nothing more than the collection of incredibly talented young musicians playing in and around the city. The groups are playing for free. Otherwise a festival like this couldn't exist."
    The performers range from the obscure to the mildly famous, and from the mediocre to the first-rate. Surprisingly, there is no definite correlation between fame and competence. One of the delights of attending the Festival is discovering the unknown musician who brings the house down. Friday night, however, was not an auspicious debut. Due to inadequate publicity, the audience was small, consisting chiefly of teen-agers.
    The first group, Listening, played hard rock competently, if unimaginatively, for an hour. They were followed by a straight folk duo, Hedge and Donna, who while fine singers, got nowhere with the audience. The kids were totally uninterested in folk music and wandered around in the aisles while Hedge and Donna struggled through their set. This leads one to question the wisdom of mixing rock and folk performers on the same program. Rock is nothing if not pervasive; it requires little attention to absorb it. The type of sensitivity necessary to listen to gentle songs, sweetly sung, is destroyed by an hour under the amps. Paula Lark, another folk singer, made slightly more progress than Hedge and Donna. Miss Lark is an excellent performer with a voice and delivery that sound like a cross between Miriam Makeba and Oddetta. But The Freeborne, a rock group that followed, seemed to possess as their sole distinction the novelty of using two drummers.
    Saturday night, with a larger and more responsive audience, was a vast improvement. A teen-aged rock band called Morgan led off and was followed by first rate folk singer, Dave Mowry. Mowry has an extremely powerful, husky voice that can squeeze real emotion out of the most inane teeny-bopper lyric. He is equally fine singing blues, and is also an excellent guitarist. The most musically inventive group of the evening was The 3d World Raspberry. They played non-stop through their entire set, weaving one number into another, shifting keys and charging through chords with a gusto and finesse that earned them repeated applause.
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