Psychedelic Lunch

Welcome to our “Psychedelic Lunch” series, “Cool Movie Soundtracks Edition,” where we find out how deep the rabbit hole really goes and explore psychedelic tunes from the 60’s to today. Weekdays At Noon EST. Enjoy the trip!

Almost Famous

Almost Famous is Set in 1973, it chronicles the funny and often poignant coming of age of 15-year-old William, an unabashed music fan who is inspired by the seminal bands of the time. When his love of music lands him an assignment from Rolling Stone magazine to interview the up-and-coming band Stillwater — fronted by lead guitar Russell Hammond and lead singer Jeff Bebe William embarks on an eye-opening journey with the band’s tour, despite the objections of his protective mother.

The film is semi-autobiographical, as Crowe himself was a teenage writer for Rolling Stone. It is based on his experiences touring with rock bands Poco, the Allman Brothers Band, Led Zeppelin, Eagles, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. … Roger Ebert hailed it the best film of the year as well as the ninth-best film of the 2000s.

Stillwater is a composite of bands and musicians who Cameron Crowe met whilst working at Rolling Stone. It is said to be likely that guitarist Russell Hammond is based on Gregg Allman of the Allman Brothers, who Crowe went on tour with in 1973.

Almost Famous is a love letter to music, not rock star decadence. The film boasts an all star sound track of A – List musicians.

Every time I hear the song Tiny Dancer by artist Sir Elton John it takes me back 20 years ago to the scene where the band Stillwater along with their entourage of groupies sing along while traveling to the bands next destination on their tour bus, a 1962 Eagle Model 01 ‘Doris’

“Almost Famous” turns 20 yet the film still holds up well as a snapshot of 1970s counterculture. Reading the opening paragraph of the story, you can almost certainly hear Frances McDormand (Oscar-nominated for her iconic turn as a sheltering, truth-talking mother) admonishing Patrick Fugit:

“‘There will be absolutely no rock music in our house.’ With those epic words, my mother and father ushered in 1968. My mom was an English teacher, and early on she spotted the threat that rock posed to all those finely-bound books lining our cabinets. My sister and I lobbied hard, assuring them that drugs and promiscuous sex were not what our music was about. Rock was our poetry. Yes, came her reply, but ‘it’s the poetry of drugs and promiscuous sex!’ Of course she was right, but few were as good at feigning outrage as my sister and me.”

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