ON the Beat | A Santa Barbara Summer on Hissing Streets

This edition of ON the Beat was originally emailed to subscribers on June 29, 2023. To receive Josef Woodard’s music newsletter in your inbox each Thursday, sign up at independent.com/newsletters.

Just Say Yes

In the film True Crime, Clint Eastwood plays an aging but harried journalist trying to come to terms with family life and the prospect of sobriety. In one scene, he lives up to a promise to take his son to the zoo, but while there is suddenly called on a work emergency. His solution is to race madly through the place with his son, and tell him, with forced glee, that they were embarking on an adventure now known as “speed zoo.”

Submitted for your approval: If you love a parade — and who doesn’t? — but if you find yourself short on time, consider “speed parade.” On Saturday, we timed our arrival at the end of the Solstice parade just as the leaders had arrived and walked the length of said parade against the flow, with time left at the end for a beer at The Press Room.

The usual suspects and sensory output were in full regalia, with swarms of fun- and sun-worshippers, Pagan and otherwise, not-so-innocent bystanders, and tie-dyed fabric galore. A fine and mostly sun-splashed time was had by all. Fittingly, the parade opened with a surreally tall woman — on stilts — toting a sign that read “YES” — a good starting point for rituals of merriment and optimism. A gypsy-hippie-post-Dixieland band followed, and the show was underway. There were impressive floats and such, including a food-themed entourage, and more dance and music (mostly canned) than usual in the lineup, often featuring talented tribes of women dancers in various modes of dress (and undress; some would not be getting Coppertone tans on this day).

Ironically, one of the most hypnotic live musical acts was the undulant Hari Krishna contingent. Never mind that they seemingly broke the Summer Solstice edict prohibiting specific religiosity in the parade — their seductive sonic bustle was conjured up through melodic champion, percussion, and snatches of accordion.

What began with a “YES” sign ended with a blissed-out monster, a massive sun-yellow inflatable replete with a lithe aerial silk dancer inside and a roving band of merry-makers wriggling up Santa Barbara Street. The dizzy yet sturdy life of Solstice moves onward, upward and sideways to the big 5-0 next year.

Lee’s Tasty Licks as Medicine

Musical question of the week: What’s not to like about Albert Lee? That question resonated locally in the packed house at SOhO last week, where the ever-genial country guitar wizard stopped by for a rare gig in town. Lee, now 79 and one of the important British guitarists who found a strong voice in the 1960s, lived for a time in Santa Barbara and there’s always a twinge of his being a “local boy at heart” when playing in the 805.