P. F. Sloan wrote the song “Eve of Destruction” in 1964. (The
Bryds were offered the song and turned it down.) The following year, Barry
McGuire recorded a demo version, on which Sloan played the guitar. This rough
cut was given to a DJ who happened to play it on the radio. The song became a
hit. While the song has been recorded by numerous artists over the years, it is
McGuire’s version that is seen as the classic.
Class Warrior:
SoDak shared this song with me (with us, I should say—I am
merely one of who knows how many people in his music-sharing circle) over a decade
ago. It must have been 2003 or 2004—a fitting time to hear this song, in other
words. Many of us were present at the largest protest the world has ever seen—a
globe-spanning movement against the impending war in Iraq. I don’t need to tell
anyone that this war ended up as a complete disaster for the people of Iraq,
and a total corporate gift for “defense” companies in the United States.
Somehow, the stakes now seem even higher than they did in
2003. If you had told me back then that it was possible to have a worse regime
than that of George W., I may have believed you, but would have been horribly
disappointed. The fucking human Cheeto we have now is hellbent on dragging
humanity into some capitalist-fascist dystopia. Well, at least he can’t take
away our love for each other, or make beer stop tasting good. I still think we
will win, and that people like Trump will spend their final days rotting in a
jail cell.
We need more troubadours like McGuire to help us out in
these desperate times. Will they respond? Will we?
If not, it’s a good thing I love the post-apocalyptic genre.
There’s a fair chance I’ll get as much of it as I can stomach.
Dave:
Why do we always go back to the ‘60s/’70s in music when we
want a song that has deeper meaning? Why aren’t we picking up on new musicians
that write protest songs? It seems like a major component of the Trump election
centered around people yearning for a past that didn’t really exist. So why
listen to dated folk music? I thought it was embarrassing that Bob Dylan was
awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. This is the worse of the cult of the ‘70s.
Fucking stop, it ended a long time ago. There are new artists with new ideas.
If you care about music support them, let this other shit go. Fuck retro.
Gusty Bellows;
It’s alright. This is the summer of love, dude. It spoke to
my soul; it touched my Aquarius—over and over again.
Hinkleyhadavision:
The first time I remember hearing “Eve of Destruction” I was
around three years old. It was the early 1970s and I was riding in my dad’s
1968 Valiant through the Black Hills. For me the meaning of the song has
changed over time. As a child, I enjoyed listening to this song simply for the
melody. By the time I grew into a rebellious teenager, protesting the 1991 Gulf
War, I came to see the song is an important political take on the turmoil of
the 1960s. Today, all that ugly history is starting to look rather tame. Now
the song only makes me shake my head in disgust, as it could have been
written yesterday. When you “think of all the hate there is in Red China, then
take a look around” to Mar-a-Largo, Florida.
Jimmy “Explosive Diarrhea”
B:
There are quite a lot of songs that make me feel nostalgic
for a time I barely knew (if I ever really knew it at all), such as “Ohio,”
“For What It’s Worth,” etc. In 1965, when this Barry McGuire song was released,
my parents were newlyweds, and my father was about to begin his quest of trying
to avoid the Vietnam War—he somehow always stayed one step ahead of the draft
board, first by having a family, later by joining the national guard, and
finally by aging out of the draft pool. One of my earlier memories is of him
shushing me while we watched television together. The screen was filled with
soldiers; it was an announcement of troops returning home after the Vietnam War
had been officially declared over. I remember how happy he was.
Songs like “Eve of Destruction” make me remember a happy
time in my life, which is odd considering how depressing it was. It was a time
before Reaganomics destroyed families. It was a time before the personal
computer, cell phones, and blockbuster movies. It was a time when people would
not or could not avoid each other (through the use of technology) and there was
a stronger sense of community. And, most important to my eight-year-old self,
it was a time of climbing trees, exploring the woods and mines, racing little red
wagons down dangerous mountain sides, building forts, and all the other stuff
that kids do (or did before computers and video games).
Null:
I first heard this song on an old AM radio in my dad’s
garage one summer when I was a teenager. At least, that is my first memory of
it, though it is likely I had heard it before, but this is the first time it
spoke to me, or maybe the first time I really “heard” it. I immediately thought
it was great, as I was basking in the light of punk rock, Bob Dylan, and 60’s
“protest rock.” His spitting vocal tone set the stage for the unapologetic
condemnation that would be a hallmark of punk rock. It is more than an
anti-Vietnam War anthem, as it highlights war profiteers and the subtle insular
hypocrisies of our day to day lives: “You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a
trace, Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace….” It presents
a real critique that filters through the war machine to our acquiescence of
these horrible atrocities while sitting in apathy at our dinner tables. I think
it really speaks to de-humanization of those in faraway lands and those living
next door. The music is great. The words are great, and unfortunately, still
timely. It’s a classic.
PaulySure:
A few months ago, the night of November 8 to be exact, I was
overcome with a sort of grief upon finding out that the angry tweeting
misogynistic inexperienced oompa loompa had been elected to office. That
feeling only lasted that night. November 9 brought about anger that I had
not felt in a very long time—an anger that not as much made me want to destroy,
but rather to create. I had in mind a protest video/art piece, depending on the
view of the matter. The video would have involved close ups of me lighting some
sort of U.S. Federal Reserve Note, possibly a $100 depending on how broke I was
at the time, then using said note to light a cigar or cigarette, followed by
using the note to then set an american flag on fire. I would then drop the flag
on the ground, and have the camera stay focused on the flag as I walked away;
hopefully a bald eagle would somehow drop dead out of the sky and burn up in
the remains. So why did I not create this video? I couldn’t find the
right song to use. Now that complete apathy has overcome me, I know that it
would have been this song.
SoDak:
When I was a child, I liked the growl in Barry McGuire’s
voice. It sounded as if he was on the verge of spitting out the words. While the
song was not polished, it was very catchy. I did not focus on the lyrics the
first few times I heard the song. Absurdly, I became captivated by the song,
when it was used repeatedly within an episode of The Greatest American Hero in 1981. I remember almost nothing else about
this television show except for the blond, curly haired superhero and the theme
song. In this episode, every time the superhero would get in his car, he would
turn on the radio and “Eve of Destruction” was playing, which served as a
warning prompting him to act to prevent a crazy U.S. general from firing
nuclear weapons. As stupid as it sounds, the combination of the song and a plot
focused on nuclear annihilation hit me, making me listen to the lyrics closer
from this point forward. I remember the version on the show sounding odd—very
clean. Since I had only seen this episode this one time, it was only much later
that I learned that the version used on the show was sung by Joey Scarbury, who
also sang the theme song for the television series. Following this show, I
picked up a 45 single of the McGuire version and listened to it incessantly.
Every election cycle, I could call a local radio station when it was request
hour and ask for the song to be played and dedicated it to all the politicians
running for office. This protest song only barely anticipated the shit that was
culminating. Ever-expanding imperialist wars, the intensification of capitalist
exploitation, the ongoing rise of fascist tendencies, and structural racism have
turned the world into yet a bigger grave. “And you tell me, Over and over and
over again my friend, Ah, you don’t believe, We’re on the eve of destruction.”
“My blood’s so mad” watching this shit show within the country and world in
general.
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