Barbecue 67 held in Spalding on 29 May 1967 has become considered to be the first rock festival in Britain, and some even claim it to be the World’s first ever rock festival.
The event received coverage in local newspapers, and we have transcribed these, in preparation for the 60th anniversary in 2027.
As well as the news reports below, the event was well advertised with various advertisements in papers around the area (Sleaford Standard, Louth Standard, Lincolnshire Standard and Boston Guardian, Peterborough Standard, Peterborough Evening Telegraph, Stamford Mercury, Melton Mowbray Times, Newark Advertiser, Nottingham Evening Post, Leicester Daily Mercury and Lynn News).
Spalding Guardian Friday 28 April 1967
Big names for eight hours of non-stop pop
IT SHOULD be the biggest pop music “happening” ever to be staged In the East Midlands. It is undoubtedly the biggest thing of its kind ever to hit Spalding. – “It” is the seven group “Barbecue 67” which will run for eight non-stop hours at Spalding Bulb Auction on May 29. The eight hours will be filled with music supplied by seven of the biggest names in international big beat, blues and pop. And the supporting group is a big local name. Sounds Force Five.
Just read the line-up: The Hendrix Experience, only two records so far “Hey Joe” and “Purple Haze” both smash hits but Jimi is hailed as a top guitarist perhaps second only to Eric “Slowhand” Clayton, ex-Yardbird, ex- John Mayall’s Bluesbreaker, who will appear at Spalding with the extrovert threesome. The Cream.
Zoot Money and his Big Roll Band have medium sized hits with every record. His latest is “Nick Knack” a big sound revival of the nursery song.
EXPERTS
Although Zoot Money clowns through every performance, actually he is a good musician expertly backed by a band of experts.
The Pink Floyd are relatively new to the scene. ‘Though the word “psychedelic” was coupled with them when they made it by some over-anxious bandwagon publicity man. it’s a word the group have learned to hate.
Bass guitarist, Roger Waters, describe the Pink Floyd sound as a combination between lights and sounds. . . . and nothing more.
But the man that all true mods will pay their £1 ticket money to see at Spalding, is American Geno Washington.
This untiring performer with the slick Ram Jam Band to back him is an instant favourite where ever he goes. His “live” popularity could stem from the fact that his performances are so swing-a-long and gay.
That just leaves one more group. They are The Move. A serious group of hard-playing musicians with two hits to their credit. “Night of Fear” and “I can see the grass grow.”
RELENTLESS
The Move made the charts and attracted nationwide attention with relentless music based on classical themes. But see them live and it is a different kettle of music.
All these artists have been “summoned” to Spalding by Grantham promoter Brian Thompson. who was once associated dances at the Drill Hall there.
Three stages will be erected in the hall which can hold 10.000 people so that the music will be non-stop. Discotheque-type soft lighting will complete the atmosphere at the Whit Monday “happening” to beat them all. J.R.S.T.
Spalding Guardian Friday 2 June 1967
Pop goes a ‘day of fear’ theory
A few idiots blot record for thousands
‘BY AND LARGE the majority of youths attending the function behaved reasonably well, but there were a number of incidents dealt with by the police and in some instances, inquiries are still continuing.’
Those official police statement about sums up Spalding’s first taste of the swinging life – the beat concert that was expected to flare into a major riot and didn’t.
But the Incidents did include a trail of vandalism. In Pinchbeck Road, damage in a number of public houses, cases of terrified women, and the theft of four scooters and a car.
Thousands of young folk trekked hundreds of miles to hear their idols play. Many came without tickets, hoping to gain entry at the door. Quite a lot were unlucky
It is thought to be some of those disgruntled and bored who began to go in gangs around the town.
As early as 4.30 p.m., windows were smashed in houses and business premises in Pinchbeck Road.
On Monday night residents in the road were livid. The festival should never have been allowed, they told a reporter.
‘CRAZY’
In Rennison’s sweet shop in Winsover Road, a crowd of boys. said to be under the influence of drugs, pushed into the shop and took over, breaking jars and pulling boxes off the shelves.
There was no way that Mrs. Rennison could control them. She rushed into the street after them and by the time she had called the police most of them had got away, although she managed to identify one or two. “Most of them were crazy.” she said.
The “trouble – makers” were more imaginative in the Spalding Washerette Centre in Swan Street. At 6.30 about 40 boys and girls moved in and took over. The manager had anticipated trouble when the washerette opened at 7 o’clock and had asked the police to watch the premises.
EXTENSIVE
The trouble was more than expected. Coffee had been spilled on the floor, thrown at the walls and emptied into the machines, the hands had been torn the wall clock. the coin rejector broken open and someone had tried to pull the dial off the clothes weighing machines, another tried to go for a ride in a spin-dryer
Beat festival vandals leave damage trail
Police arrived to discover a group playing cards among the washing machines.
The Chequers Inn, Swan Street, was overrun by another mob who pushed into every room in the building. By 8.30 the landlord, Mr. Len Humberstone, had taken enough and turned them out.
They left taking about £30 worth of brass ornaments. That wasn’t all, later Mr. Humberstone had two windows broken by a ‘different lot.”
There was more minor damage in other public houses in the town.
Mr. and Mrs A. Smith. of 27 Pinchbeck Road. were out when their sitting room window was smashed. They came home to find pieces of shattered glass littering the furniture and floor. On Tuesday morning Mrs. Smith was still clearing up.
FORCED
Her daughter. Mrs. Audrey Lister, said “It’s a godsend you weren’t at home.”
The Smiths’ side door was forced, and the door catch was broken off.
Mrs. Smith said: “It’s disgraceful. They ought to be made to pay for the damage.”
Nearby a plate glass window in Levesley’s plumber’s shop was broken during the afternoon. and vandals came back later to break the adjoining office window
CONCRETE
Mr. and Mr, S. O. Levesley discovered concrete and bricks in their shop, which they believed had been taken from the site of a demolished house nearby.
No damage was done to goods on display in the window, but Mrs, Levesley felt very indignant about “replacing a plate glass window, casting £25 to £30, just because of their stupid nonsense.”
Residents in the area were frightened to go to bed before the dance ended for fear of more damage to their property. They stood outside talking and watching.
Windows in numbers 15 and 17 Pinchbeck Road were also broken, and a pane in one window of the Masonic Hall was cracked but intact.
During the evening a gang of youths broke a plate glass window in Wilson’s electrical shop, New Road.
BOTTLE
A lemonade bottle was found among dented teapots in the display area, but as far as Mr. J. Wilson could discover, nothing was stolen.
He was relieved that a new plate glass window had not been installed before the breakage. He had one on order.
Not all incidents were major. There were the usual stupid pranks—knocking on doors and running , smearing windows with chocolate or dirt, being as awkward as possible to traffic.
Police drove round the Halley Stewart playing field flushing out courting couples with their headlights.
Many of the youngsters stayed the night in Spalding sleeping rough.
Police made a number of drug checks, but no one was arrested or charged in this connection.
LITTER
When staff arrived at Spalding station at 3 a.m, on Tuesday morning, the platform was littered with sleeping bodies waiting for the first train home.
Railway trucks in the sidings around the station were used for sleeping on the night before the event and afterwards.
The Johnson hospital was busy but mostly with minor cases, A Kettering youth, crushed in the crowd at the Bulb Auction, was detained and said to be “comfortable” on Tuesday.
A Londoner got kicked on the head. He was treated and allowed out.
Down at the auction a St. John Ambulance man said he had never seen so many fainting girls in his life.
A man was taken from the auction with a cut lip after a minor fracas.
Local bus companies reported no trouble taking parties home.
SUCCESS
The beat festival itself was an undoubted success. All the big names turned up and the vast auction halls were so packed it was a case of standing and sweating rather than dancing. There was a brisk “black market” in tickets. Top price for the £1 ticket was £4.
As midnight approached several parents waited for their children at the entrances. But there were no major incidents in the dance itself.
Police and special constables were out in force. A Securicor van took away the takings.
Organiser says
Organiser, Brian Thompson, doesn’t expect that Spalding will allow them to stage another beat festival, because, he says, older people have condemned all teenagers because a dozen or so out of thousands just went round causing trouble.
What were the costs and profits? “The expenses were fantastic. There was hardly any profit. Nobody knows how many were in that hall. People can guess. but nobody knows but me.”
What happened to the bar? “There was no pressure to stop the licence. I pulled it out because there could have been trouble. It cost a lot of money.”
Police? “They co-operated 100 per cent. They bent over backwards to help. I am very pleased.”
THE MAN THEY CALL GENO …
This is the man they call Geno. This is one of the men thousands of teenagers came to see in the sauna bath of Spalding Bulb Auction on Monday.
He screamed his way through to the sound-numbed fans and revitalised everyone. Geno Washington pleaded tonsilitis, but fans refused to let this dynamo leave the stage until he had played two encores”’. More pictures and comments on pages 10 and 11.
Spalding Guardian Friday 2 June 1967
Reflections from local reporters Fay Young, John Thorne & Sheila Robson
A FIRST FRIGHTENED TASTE OF THE SWINGING LIFE – or a riot that wasn’t
The old town routine faces an explosion
BANK Holiday Monday will be remembered as the time action switched from the sea-front to Spalding, of all places. And Spalding is still recovering from its first frightened taste of the swinging life— debauched youth the explosion of the old town routine.
And we all know why. There we were, swingers all of us, our thousands, waiting for the fun to start. And when it didn’t, we just helped it along a little. The older generation – whoever they may be – were all waiting for something to attack. Like the drugs, the clothes, the hair, the music, the behaviour, the living – and they got it.
From the music angle Barbeque ’67 was a mixed success. Geno has a football match effect, Jimi Hendrix (chief crowd puller) fits music to sensationalism, the Cream are good, to see the Move Is to forget, to see Zoot Money is to see everything, and to see Pink Floyd is to laugh.
The whole thing was pretty funny anyway, and when it is described as a riot of terror through the streets of respectability it becomes ridiculous.
And the clothes – everyone had tried to outdo the other and didn’t want to show it. Nobody looked interested but there were a few crafty glances at some of the more way out.
After a while even the weirdest looked commonplace but it amused the cynical to stay and watch. It should keep them in small talk for a long time.
DARING
A daring venture for a small town (probably the only one), the event itself was of little importance – strictly for the in crowd. But if you managed to get in, had a strong stomach and a small oxygen mask you probably enjoyed it.
Those who came to see the show did so, those who came to cause trouble achieved it.
But at least it gave you all something to talk about, something to criticise perhaps something to remember ‘in these troubled times.” And as for excitement Barbeque ‘67 was the best thing to happen to Spalding in years.
Trouble? just wait till the tulip parade gets out of control
FAY YOUNG
Monday in Spalding should have been the scene of the biggest riot since Margate. There should have been broken heads, broken bottles and broken windows down every street in town.
The conglomeration of puff haired mods, beats with 11th century hairstyles and plain old-fashioned greasers, who refuse to dress up, should have meant the biggest punch-up since England beat the West Indies in the Caribbean.
It was like inviting the Klu Klux Klan and the Black Muslims to share a stadium for a rally.
POLICE PRAISE
And things could have reached these proportions around five when the mass of ticket holders and those happy to buy at the door were still milling about the car parks because they were not being allowed in quick enough.
But the police changed all that. Or they did for me anyway
Inside the bulb auction, it was a Turkish bath. But without the room for masseurs or masseuses. A great pity.
NO TROUBLE
For seven hours little 13-year-old girls stood alongside great tall boys of shapes and fashions to watch the “heroes” of the modern music world.
And there was absolutely no trouble.
Even when the more energetic climbed onto the rafters and sent down a spray of dust and rust on the crowd below, nobody stepped out of line.
Even when Zoot Money dropped his trousers to reveal . . . a pair of golden shorts, there were no hysterics.
Even when the pass-outs were not passed out fast enough between the big groups, the crush for fresh air not lead to any punch- ups.
Nevertheless, this will be the first and last time that Spalding plays host to such a music gathering.
Those with pre-conceived ideas; those who said at first that the barbeque would never happen; those who said it should not have been allowed to happen, will grab at the few isolated incidents around town and demand that the powers put their feet down.
Which is a great pity.
JOHN THORNE
“Put down Geno’s the greatest squealed the girl from Coventry, as my pencil dug her in the ribs.
“But, is he?” I yelled in her ear. – The answer was an ecstatic smile. Not a pitying one, at the middle-aged Mum let loose among 7,000 teenagers, but one that generously included me in her delight.
BEAUTY
I’d come to see what a ‘rave’ looked like. What was it that persuaded youngsters from all over the to spend seven suffocating hours just listening to a few bands in a bare concert hall?
I was quite unprepared for the beauty of it; it was beautiful like some splendid, savage painting by El Geco. Pitch dark, except for the pool of light that flooded over the Performers’ arena. Pitch dark, except the ever-moving light that transformed a shirt or dress into a whiter than white than a detergent manufacturer’s dream, and bathed faces and hands for an instant in an unearthly radiance.
Thousands of hands clapped in unison, thousands of voices chanted “Geno” as their perspiring Idol gave all he’d got in number after number. They wouldn’t let him go, and when he finally did, it was with a gesture almost like a papal blessing.
DISCREET
Sounds unhealthy? Well, it wasn’t. I’ve never been in a crowd that frightened me less. For all our tribal chanting (got me in the end) and jam packed as we were, nobody pushed or shoved to get nearer the stage.
And an immediate path was made for the many who felt faint in the under-ventilated hall, and what “smooching” there was, was very discreet.
I came away reassured, but a little sad. I’d been expecting jeans, jumpers and general scruffiness. But most of the girls looked delightful in flowered trouser suits, patterned coats with matching dresses, frilly bloomer suits, and every variety of ‘tent’.
It just seemed a pity to me, remembering far-off cricket matches and the intervals of summer dances, that this generation couldn’t find a more romantic spot in which to promenade in their plumage the stage, than the concrete wastes of Winfrey Avenue car park.
SHEILA ROBSON
Spalding Guardian Friday 2 June 1967
The Spalding Guardian ran an editorial for many years under the pseudonym Ayscoughfee Owl
The taste of psychedelic honey – Ayscoughfee Owl
TALK about psychedelic sensations to me and I won’t really understand what you’re on about. I might, if pressed, be prepared to make a guess, but I wouldn’t put money on its accuracy.
Which brings me, like everyone else this week, to Monday’s “rave-up” (or is it “freak out”?) or to be perfectly correct Barbeque ’67.
Why Barbeque (yes, I know it’s spelt wrongly) I wonder? There was no food (unless you count a couple of hot dog vendors), no ox on a spit, no chicken and chips. The only thing “cooking” was several thousand teenagers being fried in their own sweat.
But what did we all expect from Monday’s event?
A town in tatters? Corpses of the battered victims of brawling mobs littered in every gutter?
A community looted and pillaged? Women attacked and raped by hordes of maurauding tribesmen led by a 1967 Genghis Khan armed with electronic guitar and the cutest hips in show business?
Aren’t there too many this week quick to condemn the thousands for the sins of a few?
It is, of course, no good lightly shrugging off what incidents there were as of no consequence. On the other hand, we should not make rash statements about what we will do if an event Is organised another year.
Are older people any better in a crowd away simply because they are older? Are there not hooligan elements in every section of society?
It is easy to forget the high spirits of youth; so easy to say I never did that.’ I bet you did.
Everyone has been guilty at some time or other of a little irresponsibility. It may be that you “collect” table mats from pubs or spoons from hotels.
It was the fashionable thing with rugby players to collect road signs – It may still be. But is this particularly irresponsible behaviour condoned or tolerated because rugger types are somehow to be preferred to pop enthusiasts?
We may say that rugger Is a healthier pastime than listening to pop music, but is it really?
Isn’t pop music condemned for lack of understanding, even appreciation? And aren’t there even some who sneer simply because it seems to be the “smart” thing to do?
And if the fans want to stamp and shout and sing and cheer well, why shouldn’t they?
You cannot say ‘show me a pop fan and I’ll show you a drug addict or at least an unintelligent slob’; any more than you can say ‘show me a Bach lover and I’ll show you a cultured man.’
Have you ever been to a pop concert?
Try it sometime and if you can honestly say at the end of it that you haven’t been moved by the spine-tingling throb of the music, the enthusiasm of the fans, and the savage, beautiful colour of the whole place, let me know and I promise I’ll pay all funeral expenses.
Regional coverage
Peterborough Evening Telegraph Tuesday 30 May 1967
Trouble after beat Festival
A TRAIL OF HAVOC
Teenagers ‘lnvade’ Spalding
SPALDING women were terrified by gangs of youths, a policeman in the town assaulted, and four scooters and a car removed — while pubs closed early to avoid further trouble. ~ This was the story in the ‘Fen town yesterday when some of the thousands of teenagers who came to the Barbecue ’67 Beat Festival left a trail of havoc behind them. The trouble started when thousands of teenagers arrived in the town for the festival only to find it was a sellout. Some of them started marauding round the town in gangs and first sign of the havoc to follow were windows smashed in houses and other premises of Pinchbeck Road. In Winsover Road, the Chequers Inn was damaged by hoodlums and bottles thrown in a confectionery shop. A plate glass window in an electrical «dealers in New Road was smashed.
Police checks
At night, police drove round the Halley Stewart playing field flushing out courting couples with their headlights. But darkness did not see the end of the invasion — many of the youngsters stayed the night in and around the town, some of them sleeping rough in railway trucks and other hide-outs. A number of drugs checks by the police proved negative —no arrests, no-one charged. The festival itself — featuring Geno Washington and his Rom Jam Band was an undoubted success. Other big names to delight the youngsters in the packed bulb auction halls were Eric Clapton with The Cream and the Jimi Hendrix Experience. ‘
Grantham Journal Friday 2 June 1967
“HAVOC” FOLLOWED BEAT FESTIVAL
A great many Grantham and district youngsters were among the thousands at Bank-holiday Monday’s Barbecue ‘67 Beat festival at Spalding, alter which it was reported that there was a trail of havoc around the town.
The festival, promoted by Mr. Brian Thompson, of Whatton, and formerly of Great Gonerby, was a sellout, with thousands unable to gain admission.
Top-line groups starred.
It was reported that after the event women were terrified by gangs, windows were smashed. scooters and a Car were stolen, and public houses closed early to avoid further trouble.
On-the-spot reaction was that the festival was a huge success, and Mr. Thompson afterwards commented that there was absolutely no trouble at the hall throughout the event, and any trouble that there might have been was not a generality but merely the irresponsibility of a tiny minority.
Follow up
A year later, there was a call for a repeat festival, with a disused warehouse being suggested….
Lincolnshire Free Press Tuesday 9 April 1968
It’s the Young idea
ON THE day of the Tulip Parade, Spalding will fill up with people: the traffic will stop and Spalding will be bustled about as only the outside world can do it.
The streets will throng with sightseers, and the locals will be crowded out with singing strangers.
Spalding will take it because it has become a traditional part of Tulip Time. And it means money.
But it was different when the town filled up last May. Not with eager coach load tourists or happy holidaying families, but with thousands of teenagers. Spalding reeled back like there had been a disaster.
The teenagers had come to Barbecue ’67.
A different class
There was very little difference between the two events. But Barbecue ‘67 had not been committee organised and it attracted a different money-paying class of people.
Discrediting one point does not credit another. Because the people of Spalding accept the Tulip Parade does not mean that they will ever come to accept events as awakening as beat festivals.
But we give in too easily. Can you cover up for what you have not got by listing what you have got?
It’s the old there’s-nothing-to-do here bit. You curl up in complacent contempt at the criticism. But it is true.
A red and yellow leaflet fondly calls Spalding a thriving, progressive Fenland town. It refers to the tulip time Spalding and as far as the bulb industry is concerned it may be true enough.
Lifelong inhabitants of the town can reel off other assets: youth clubs, drama groups, sports groups, charity groups, culture groups, every other kind of group. And pubs.
But if you don’t go for any of those group activities, or want something more, then there really is NOTHING for you to do in Spalding. And we’re not such a small, sterile minority.
There are dances, every now and then, there are youth club “discos.” But to be widely successful, to be financially worthwhile they must be organised on a wide scale. And in the right places.
Pubs and club rooms are all very well, but they are restricted by time and age grouping. If it had not been for the Avalon Wards and Spalding Rural Council, St. Peter’s Hall in Priory Road could have been made into a fantastic disco.
Misplaced car park
The trend for discos had not influenced Spalding when the fate of the hall was decided but it is unlikely that the Rural Council could have been swayed from making it a slightly misplaced car park.
It is even less likely, if possible, that someone would have provided the financial backing for such a scheme. Teenage activities mean just one thing to those who don’t want to know about them — trouble.
Teenagers — as the cities know — also make quite a lucrative source of income. I’m willing to be exploited if it means I can have a good time as well.
If there was a possibility of an annual (well organised) beat festival; if there was a disused warehouse, or attic, or cellar which could be converted into a club or disco: if someone was prepared to take the task on; if someone was prepared to give financial backing .. .. If all that were possible would public opinion allow the rest.
Were you at Barbecue’ 67?
Would you like to be involved in events to commemorate the 60th Anniversary in 2027?
We are supporting Past,Present,Possible in a six-month intergenerational heritage project exploring the story and legacy of BBQ 67.
The project brings together young people and older residents of Spalding to collect memories, share stories and explore how music and cultural events helped shape Spalding’s identity.
