Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix helped make London the coolest place in the world throughout the late 1960s. The capital was a beacon of constant creative chaos which alluded to an exciting and adventurous new world, with music placed at the forefront of it. Whilst the art they made came from two different spaces on the rock ânâ roll spectrum, the illuminating nature of their work tied them both together.
Hendrix made his grand arrival as the counterculture saviour when he touched down on the cobbled streets of little old England in 1966. The nation was not ready to experience the wild brand of spiralling, kaleidoscopic musical wonder which this young American was about to unleash on the British public. His first appearance on English shores saw him shake up the system and immediately win over the countryâs then-guitar royalty Eric Clapton, who watched on as Hendrix dethroned him. It wasnât just Clapton who was watching on as the mysticism of Hendrix took the London audience by total surprise, Pink Floydâs Roger Waters was also in the crowd and was utterly mesmerised.
This performance wasnât Hendrixâs âofficialâlive debut on British soil, but it was certainly one way of making an impact. His manager, The Animals bassist Chas Chandler, asked Clapton if Hendrix could make a cameo halfway through Creamâs set, which they obliged despite never previously seeing the guitarist play. It was an act of kindness which would come back to haunt them when the American brazenly overshadowed their show.
Hendrix took the stage and performed a manic version of the Howlinâ Wolf song âKilling Floorâ. Clapton would later discuss the performance in vivid detail: âHe played just about every style you could think of, and not in a flashy way. I mean he did a few of his tricks, like playing with his teeth and behind his back, but it wasnât in an upstaging sense at all, and that was itâŠhe walked off, and my life was never the same again.â
Pink Floydâs Roger Waters was equally blown away and that night at the London Polytechnic would lay the first brick in Hendrixâs legendary legacy. âIn the middle of the show, they said, âWe would like to introduce a friend of oursâ,â Waters later recalled. âAnd this guy came on stage and started playing guitar with his teeth and at a certain time, also playing with the guitar behind his head.”
âI found myself thinking about it some time ago. And I remember that I had misunderstood his name. I thought he was called Junior Hendrix, but then I discovered that he was not âJuniorâ, it was Jimi Hendrix, and that was the first time that he performed in England, at a Cream show. I suppose it was around 1965,â Waters fondly recalled, even if he did get the year wrong.
It didnât take long for Hendrix to become the talk of the town. The following year, Pink Floyd found themselves touring across Britain supporting him and the run of dates was an eye-opening experience. Drummer Nick Mason wrote in his book, Inside Out, that those run of dates were Pink Floydâs âfirst real taste of rock ânâ roll as we had imagined it.â
The love that Floyd had in abundance Hendrix was reciprocal. In an interview with Melody Maker in 1970, Hendrix dotingly said: âThe term blowing someoneâs mind is valid. People like you to blow their minds, but then we are going to give them something that will blow their mind, and while itâs blown there will be something there to fill the gap.
âItâs going to be a complete form of music. It will be really druggy music. Yes, I agree it could be something on similar lines to what Pink Floyd are tackling. They donât know it, you know, but people like Pink Floyd are the mad scientists of this day and age.â
That Cream show at London Polytechnic in 1966, is the purest example of Jimi Hendrixâs character. He wasnât at all overawed by the likes of Eric Clapton and Roger Waters watching on with eagle eyes. Hendrix was a man gifted with cojones the same size as his enormous talent, and it says everything about a powerful statement of intent, and in one song, he announced that there was a new King of London Town.