Of hippies, ducks and capitalist pigs: Jefferson Airplane’s acid-drenched Levi’s commercials
In 1967, Levi’s introduced a new line of white jeans that they wanted young folks to know about.
To this end, they sought out three groovy acts from the West Coast and had them record free-form radio spots about the new white jeans and the revolutionary (ha) stretchy qualities that made them such an impeccable fit. The bands were the Sopwith Camel, Jefferson Airplane, and a Seattle group called the West Coast Natural Gas Co.
Jefferson Airplane had been together for less than two years by this point, and their breakthrough album Surrealistic Pillow had just come out. ‘White Rabbit’ hadn’t been released yet, but ‘Somebody to Love’ was out there. They were basically in the act of cresting, and now they were appearing on the radio, selling Levi’s jeans.
The bands were given creative control over the spots, of which there were nine in all. They’re pretty amusing—you can almost imagine the Smittys in Mad Men, pridefully taking credit for the idea. Four of the tracks are by the Sopwith Camel, and four were by Jefferson Airplane.
The most memorable ends with a duck call followed by the bizarre announcement, “I am a duck. I can’t wear white Levi’s. You are probably human. You have all the luck.”
In Got a Revolution! The Turbulent Flight of Jefferson Airplane, Jeff Tamarkin explains: “When ‘White Rabbit’ was released on June 6, the Airplane were already in the studio in Hollywood working on their next album. But before that, some time during the spring, they recorded something else altogether.
“Levi Strauss, the blue jeans manufacturer, had approached the band about creating a series of radio ads. The company promised to give the band free rein with the spots—they could go into the studio and do whatever they felt like, as long as they mentioned the product”.
At least four spots were recorded. One featured Grace Slick, wailing passionately over an Eastern-sounding improvisation, insisting that white Levi’s came in blue and black, tossing in non sequiturs about cactus, whiskey and whatnot.
To the Airplane, agreeing to do the spots was no big deal: they used Levi’s, and perhaps they even saw this infiltration of the advertising industry as a somewhat revolutionary act.
Abbie Hoffman sure didn’t see it that way, though, and he let his irritation be known. This letter appeared in the May 11th, 1967, issue of the Village Voice:
Interestingly, according to Tamarkin, once Jefferson Airplane learned of the exploitation, it asked Levi’s to let the band out of the contract, which it did.
In the end, it’s one of those beautifully weird moments when the counterculture collided head-on with commerce—and nobody walked away clean. Levi’s wanted cool, so they paid for it. The Airplane wanted freedom, so they bargained with it. And in the middle of it all, out came these warped, psychedelic transmissions that sound like something beamed in from a lost dimension where ad copywriters dropped acid at their desks.
A duck can’t wear white Levi’s, but Grace Slick could sell them by screaming about cactus and whiskey. If that’s not 1967 in a nutshell, what is?
Levi Strauss & Co Salesman’s Record tracklisting:
- Sopwith Camel – ‘Levi Strauss Waltz’
- Sopwith Camel – ‘Worksong’
- Sopwith Camel – ‘Good Morning, Old Jeans’
- Jefferson Airplane – ‘East Indian’
- Jefferson Airplane – ‘Duck’
- Sopwith Camel – ‘Stretch’
- West Coast Natural Gas Co – ‘Speed-Up Stretch’
- Jefferson Airplane – ‘Twig City’
- Jefferson Airplane – ‘Balloons Stretch’
There aren’t loads of these recordings available, but you can listen to some snippets below.