Watch Jazzy Spies: 1969 Psychedelic Sesame Street Animation, Featuring Grace Slick, Teaches Kids to Count

When asked for their favorite Sesame Street seg­ment, many chil­dren of the 70s and 80s point to Pin­ball Num­ber Count. Psy­che­del­ic ani­ma­tion, the Point­er Sis­ters, odd time signatures—what’s not to love? But for the seri­ous Sesame Street buff, the “Jazz Num­bers” series above deserves the sil­ver medal. It’s got free jazz, Yel­low Sub­ma­rine-style sur­re­al­is­tic ani­ma­tion, and a vocal from Grace Slick of Jef­fer­son Air­plane. How many young par­ents rec­og­nized her dis­tinc­tive voice, I won­der?

Also known as “Jazzy Spies,” this 1969 series of ani­ma­tions was devot­ed to the num­bers 2 through 10 (there was no film for “one” as it is the loneli­est num­ber that you’ll ever do), and was an essen­tial ele­ment in Sesame Street’s first sea­son. High­lights include the dream-like ele­va­tor door sequence of “2,” the Jack­son 5 ref­er­ence in “5,” and the rac­ing fans in “10.”

Slick got involved through her first hus­band, Jer­ry Slick, who pro­duced the seg­ments for San Fran­cis­co-based ani­ma­tion stu­dio Imag­i­na­tion, Inc. Head­ed by ani­ma­tor Jeff Hale, the com­pa­ny also pro­duced the Pin­ball seg­ments, as well as the famous anamor­phic “Type­writer Guy,” the Ring­mas­ter, and the Detec­tive Man. Hale, by the way, has a cameo as Augie “Ben” Dog­gie in the well-loved Lucas par­o­dy Hard­ware Wars.)

The deliri­ous music was com­posed and per­formed by Colum­bia jazz artist Den­ny Zeitlin, who would go on to score the 1979 remake of Inva­sion of the Body Snatch­ers. Zeitlin plays both piano and clavinet; accom­pa­ny­ing him is Bob­by Natan­son on drums and Mel Graves on bass. Accord­ing to Zeitlin, Grace Slick over­dubbed her vocals lat­er.

This wasn’t Slick’s first encounter with Jim Hen­son. In 1968, she and oth­er mem­bers of Jef­fer­son Air­plane were part of a coun­ter­cul­ture doc­u­men­tary called Youth ’68, the trail­er for which you can groove on here.

Sesame Street, with all its pri­ma­ry col­ors, plas­tic mer­chan­dise, and Elmo infes­ta­tion, may have lost its edge, but these ear­ly works show its rev­o­lu­tion­ary foun­da­tions.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2015.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Philip Glass Com­pos­es Music for a Sesame Street Ani­ma­tion (1979)

Itzhak Perl­man Appears on Sesame Street and Poignant­ly Shows Kids How to Play the Vio­lin and Push Through Life’s Lim­its (1981)

Watch the First Episode of Sesame Street and 140 Oth­er Free Episodes

A Young Jim Hen­son Teach­es You How to Make Pup­pets with Socks, Ten­nis Balls & Oth­er House­hold Goods (1969)

See Ste­vie Won­der Play “Super­sti­tion” and Ban­ter with Grover on Sesame Street in 1973

Thank You, Mask Man: Lenny Bruce’s Lone Ranger Com­e­dy Rou­tine Becomes a NSFW Ani­mat­ed Film (1968)

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts.

Watch Peter Tork Quietly Mouth Other Actors’ Lines in The Monkees: A Strange Quirk You’ll Never Unsee

And now for some­thing entire­ly ran­dom. As not­ed on Metafil­ter, “Peter Tork from the Mon­kees had a strange lit­tle quirk. Some­times, when oth­er actors … were deliv­er­ing their lines Tork would unthink­ing­ly mouth their dia­logue along with them, as seen in this YouTube com­pi­la­tion. Once you spot it, it makes the show (which was already kin­da weird) weird in a whole new way.” The YouTu­ber who cre­at­ed this com­pi­la­tion spent count­less hours star­ing at Peter’s lips. Giv­en the alter­na­tive these days, it’s not a bad use of time.

Relat­ed Con­tent 

Jimi Hen­drix Opens for The Mon­kees on a 1967 Tour; Then Flips Off the Crowd and Quits

How the 1968 Psy­che­del­ic Film Head Destroyed the Mon­kees & Became a Cult Clas­sic

Watch Frank Zap­pa Play Michael Nesmith (RIP) on The Mon­kees–and Vice Ver­sa (1967)

Rare Video: Vince Guaraldi’s First Televised Performance of “Linus and Lucy” (1964)

In 1964—a year before the release of A Char­lie Brown Christ­masVince Guaral­di gave the first tele­vised per­for­mance of “Linus and Lucy.” Filmed for pub­lic tele­vi­sion, the per­for­mance fea­tured Guaral­di on piano, Tom Bee­son on bass, and John Rae on drums. Long unseen, this 1964 per­for­mance cap­tures the piece in its ear­li­est tele­vised form, well before A Char­lie Brown Christ­mas became the sec­ond-best-sell­ing jazz album in his­to­ry. Sit back, take a deep breath, and enjoy this groovy, his­toric per­for­mance.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent 

How Inno­v­a­tive Jazz Pianist Vince Guaral­di Became the Com­pos­er of Beloved Char­lie Brown Music

The Vel­vet Under­ground as Peanuts Char­ac­ters: Snoopy Morphs Into Lou Reed, Char­lie Brown Into Andy Warhol

An Intro­duc­tion to Vince Guaral­di, the Jazz Com­pos­er Who Cre­at­ed the Best Christ­mas Album Ever, A Char­lie Brown Christ­mas

Watch the First Episode of Sesame Street and 140 Other Free Episodes

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FYI: Sesame Street has released on YouTube more than 140 full episodes from past sea­sons. On the Sesame Street Clas­sics chan­nel, you’ll find some icon­ic episodes, start­ing with the very first 1969 broad­cast. Watch it above. Also on that same chan­nel you can revis­it episodes where Big Bird reveals that Snuffy is real, Mr. Rogers vis­its the show, Maria and Luis get engaged, and the death of Mr. Hoop­er gets del­i­cate­ly addressed. Beyond these episodes, you can also watch 129 com­plete episodes on Sesame Street’s main YouTube Chan­nel here. Enjoy!

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent

When Mis­sis­sip­pi Tried to Ban Sesame Street for Show­ing a “High­ly Inte­grat­ed Cast” (1970)

Watch the Sesame Street Episode Banned for Being Too Scary, Fea­tur­ing The Wiz­ard of Oz’s Wicked Witch of the West (1976)

Watch Jazzy Spies: 1969 Psy­che­del­ic Sesame Street Ani­ma­tion, Fea­tur­ing Grace Slick, Teach­es Kids to Count

Philip Glass Com­pos­es Music for a Sesame Street Ani­ma­tion (1979)

MTV Rewind Lets You Revisit 40,000 Music Videos & Commercials from the Golden Age of MTV

MTV still exists. At least, it still exists in the Unit­ed States, or in cer­tain of that coun­try’s mar­kets, for the time being. A flur­ry of pre­ma­ture obit­u­ar­ies recent­ly blew through the inter­net after the announce­ment that the net­work had shut down in oth­er parts of the world, Europe includ­ed. But even there, some expressed the sen­ti­ment that MTV had already died long before. And indeed, in the U.S., where it orig­i­nal­ly launched, ask­ing who remem­bers when MTV actu­al­ly used to play music videos has been a com­mon lament for decades, aired even by gen­er­a­tions too young to remem­ber those days them­selves. But mem­bers of any gen­er­a­tion can now relive them — or live them for the first time — through a new site called MTV Rewind.

The first music video that greets the vis­i­tor is The Bug­gles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star,” and appro­pri­ate­ly so, since it inau­gu­rat­ed MTV itself when it went live on August 1st, 1981. What fol­lows are all the rest of the videos played on that first day, like Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight,” Blondie’s “Rap­ture,” David Bowie’s “Boys Keep Swing­ing,” and Kate Bush’s “Wuther­ing Heights.”

(Oth­er, less wide­ly remem­bered entries include no few­er than three songs by Cliff Richard, which speaks to the then-incom­plete for­ma­tion of the kind of pop-musi­cal cul­ture we still asso­ciate with MTV.) The site’s oth­er playlists recre­ate oth­er eras and genre-spe­cif­ic pro­grams, from 120 Min­utes to Total Request LiveHead­banger’s Ball to Yo! MTV Raps.

Cur­rent­ly, MTV Rewind’s music video count comes to about 40,000, enough to ensure any for­mer addict of the net­work a stream of nos­tal­gia hits. But the site’s cre­ator (a 43-year-old Amer­i­can res­i­dent in Alba­nia, accord­ing to the New York Times, known pseu­do­ny­mous­ly as “Flex”) has also incor­po­rat­ed vin­tage sta­tion IDs and com­mer­cials, many of them liable to trig­ger down­right Prous­t­ian sen­sa­tions in the right view­er. What may feel refresh­ing even to curi­ous younger vis­i­tors is that, whichev­er chan­nel they choose, the next video that plays is deter­mined not by an algo­rithm attempt­ing to pre­dict their per­son­al tastes. Rather, each playlist is shaped by the pop­u­lar cul­ture of a par­tic­u­lar era, with enough left-field selec­tions to keep it inter­est­ing: just the sort of thing in hopes of which we used to flip over to MTV, back when the idea of stream­ing video on our com­put­ers still sound­ed like sheer­est fan­ta­sy. Enter MTV Rewind here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch the First 2+ Hours of MTV’s Inau­gur­al Broad­cast (August 1, 1981)

All the Music Played on MTV’s 120 Min­utes: A 2,500-Video Youtube Playlist

The Com­plete Col­lec­tion Of MTV’s Head­bangers Ball: Watch 1,215 Videos from the Hey­day of Met­al Videos

The Inter­net Archive Res­cues MTV News’ Web Site, Mak­ing 460,000+ of Its Pages Search­able Again

The 50 Great­est Music Videos of All Time, Ranked by AV Club

Revis­it Pop-Up Video: The VH1 Series That Rein­vent­ed Music Videos & Pop Cul­ture

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Isaac Asimov Predicts the Future on The David Letterman Show (1980)

In 1980, Newsweek pub­lished a can­tan­ker­ous and sad­ly on-the-nose diag­no­sis of the Unit­ed States’ “cult of igno­rance” — writ­ten by one Isaac Asi­mov, “pro­fes­sor of bio­chem­istry at Boston Uni­ver­si­ty School of Med­i­cine” and “author of 212 books, most of them on var­i­ous sci­en­tif­ic sub­jects for the gen­er­al pub­lic.” Giv­en this intim­i­dat­ing biog­ra­phy, and the fact that Asi­mov believed that “hard­ly any­one can read” in the U.S., we might expect the sci­ence fic­tion leg­end want­ed noth­ing to do with tele­vi­sion. We would be wrong.

Asi­mov seemed to love TV. In 1987, for exam­ple, the four-time Hugo win­ner wrote a humor­ous­ly crit­i­cal take­down of ALF for TV Guide. And he was a con­sum­mate TV enter­tain­er, mak­ing his first major TV appear­ance on John­ny Carson’s Tonight Show in 1968, appear­ing four times on The Mike Dou­glas Show in the next few years, and giv­ing his final tele­vi­sion inter­views to Dick Cavett in a two-part series in 1989. The same year he wrote about America’s cult of igno­rance, he appeared on The David Let­ter­man show to crack wise with the biggest wiseass on TV. Asi­mov held his own and then some.

“Asi­mov, six­ty in this video, proves him­self a nat­ur­al come­di­an,” writes the Melville House blog; “Let­ter­man, thir­ty-three, can bare­ly keep up.” Sure­ly Asimov’s ban­ter had noth­ing to do with The David Let­ter­man Show’s can­cel­la­tion three days lat­er. (Let­ter­man was back on the air for eleven sea­sons two years lat­er.) Their inter­view ranges wide­ly from pop cul­ture (Asi­mov con­fess­es his appre­ci­a­tion for both Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back) to “the future of med­i­cine, space explo­ration, hope for mankind, and much more,” Vic Sage writes at Pop Cul­ture Retro­ra­ma.

Asimov’s dry deliv­ery — honed dur­ing his Eng­lish-and-Yid­dish-speak­ing Brook­lyn child­hood — is delight­ful. But the writer, teacher, and sci­en­tist hasn’t only come on TV to crack jokes, pro­mote a book, and flaunt his mut­ton­chops. He wants to edu­cate his fel­low Amer­i­cans about the state of the future. (His Newsweek bio was out­dat­ed. As Let­ter­man says, his appear­ance marked the pub­li­ca­tion of his 221st book.) Like Hari Sel­don, the hero of his 1951 nov­el Foun­da­tion, Asi­mov felt con­fi­dent in his abil­i­ty to pre­dict the course of human progress (or regress, as the case may be).

He also felt con­fi­dent answer­ing ques­tions about what to do with out­er space, and where to “put more men,” as Let­ter­man says. His rec­om­men­da­tion to build “fac­to­ries” may strike us as a banal fore­run­ner of Jeff Bezos’ even more banal plans for office parks in space. Asi­mov boasts of the vision he had of “pock­et com­put­ers” in 1950 — hard­ly a real­i­ty in 1980. Dave com­plains about how com­pli­cat­ed com­put­ers are, and Asi­mov accu­rate­ly pre­dicts that as tech­nol­o­gy catch­es up, they will get sim­pler to use. “But these are lit­tle things,” he says. “I nev­er tried to pre­dict. I just tried to write sto­ries to pay my way through col­lege.” He must have paid it sev­er­al times over, and he seemed to get more right than he got wrong. See more of Asi­mov’s pre­dic­tions in the links below.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2021.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Isaac Asi­mov Pre­dicts the Future of Civilization–and Rec­om­mends Ways to Ensure That It Sur­vives (1978)

In 1964, Isaac Asi­mov Pre­dicts What the World Will Look Like Today: Self-Dri­ving Cars, Video Calls, Fake Meats & More

Isaac Asi­mov Pre­dicts in 1983 What the World Will Look Like in 2019: Com­put­er­i­za­tion, Glob­al Co-oper­a­tion, Leisure Time & Moon Min­ing

Isaac Asi­mov Laments the “Cult of Igno­rance” in the Unit­ed States (1980)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. 

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The 1957 “Spaghetti-Grows-on-Trees” Hoax: One of TV’s First April Fools’ Day Pranks

In 1957, the BBC pro­gram Panora­ma aired one of the first tele­vised April Fools’ Day hoax­es. Above, you can watch a faux news report from Switzer­land nar­rat­ed by respect­ed BBC jour­nal­ist Richard Dim­ble­by. Here’s the basic premise: After a mild win­ter and the “vir­tu­al dis­ap­pear­ance of the spaghet­ti wee­vil,” the res­i­dents of Ticoni (a Swiss can­ton on the Ital­ian bor­der) reap a record-break­ing spaghet­ti har­vest. Swiss farm­ers pluck strands of spaghet­ti from trees and lay them out to dry in the sun. Then we cut to Swiss res­i­dents enjoy­ing a fresh pas­ta meal for dinner—going from farm to table, as it were.

The spoof doc­u­men­tary orig­i­nat­ed with the BBC cam­era­man Charles de Jaeger. He remem­bered one of his child­hood school­teach­ers in Aus­tria jok­ing, “Boys, you are so stu­pid, you’d believe me if I told you that spaghet­ti grew on trees.” Appar­ent­ly he was right. Years lat­er, David Wheel­er, the pro­duc­er of the BBC seg­ment, recalled: “The fol­low­ing day [the broad­cast] there was quite a to-do because there were lots of peo­ple who went to work and said to their col­leagues ‘did you see that extra­or­di­nary thing on Panora­ma? I nev­er knew that about spaghet­ti.’ ” An esti­mat­ed eight mil­lion peo­ple watched the orig­i­nal pro­gram, and, decades lat­er, CNN called the broad­cast “the biggest hoax that any rep­utable news estab­lish­ment ever pulled.”

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent

When Neapoli­tans Used to Eat Pas­ta with Their Bare Hands: Watch Footage from 1903

“Moon Hoax Not”: Short Film Explains Why It Was Impos­si­ble to Fake the Moon Land­ing

Neil Arm­strong Sets Straight an Inter­net Truther Who Accused Him of Fak­ing the Moon Land­ing (2000)

When Ital­ian Futur­ists Declared War on Pas­ta (1930)

 

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Every Filmed and Televised Performance by Joy Division (1978–79)

Bri­an Eno once said of the Vel­vet Under­ground that their first album sold only 30,000 copies, but every­one who bought one start­ed a band. Joy Divi­sion’s debut Unknown Plea­sures sold only 20,000 copies in its ini­tial peri­od of release, but the T‑shirt embla­zoned with its cov­er art — an image of radio waves ema­nat­ing from a pul­sar tak­en from an astron­o­my ency­clo­pe­dia — has long since con­sti­tut­ed a com­mer­cial-semi­otic empire unto itself. That speaks to the vast sub­cul­tur­al influ­ence of the band, despite their only hav­ing been active from 1976 to 1980. When we speak of the genre of post-punk, we speak, in large part, of Joy Divi­sion and the artists they influ­enced.

Less than a year after the 1979 release of Unknown Plea­sures, Joy Divi­sion’s lead singer Ian Cur­tis com­mit­ted sui­cide. The band had already record­ed Clos­er, their sec­ond and last album (at least before the sub­se­quent, more suc­cess­ful ref­or­ma­tion as New Order). Scant though it may be, their stu­dio discog­ra­phy has only drawn more and more crit­i­cal acclaim over the decades.

Still, fans who weren’t around to wit­ness the rise of Joy Divi­sion first-hand will sus­pect they’ve missed out on some­thing essen­tial. “Live, Joy Divi­sion were heavy,” remem­bers band his­to­ri­an Jon Sav­age. “Per­form­ers — and David Bowie is a good exam­ple – know exact­ly what to give and what to with­hold, but Ian Cur­tis didn’t have that stage­craft. He just came on and gave every­thing.”

That sort of inten­si­ty, Sav­age adds, is “not infi­nite­ly repro­ducible”; even at the time, it seems that those who wit­nessed Joy Divi­sion in con­cert under­stood that their pecu­liar­ly com­pelling ener­gy was dri­ving toward some kind of final com­bus­tion. You can get a taste of it in the col­lec­tion of the group’s every tele­vised per­for­mance, orig­i­nal­ly aired on BBC2 and Grana­da TV in 1978 and 1979, at the top of the post; just above, we have a 70-minute com­pi­la­tion of all their filmed live shows. Much of it con­sists of footage shot over two nights at the Apol­lo The­atre in 1979, which the uploader describes as of poor qual­i­ty — but “accord­ing to peo­ple who were there, the gig’s qual­i­ty was poor in per­son too.” As much as gen­er­a­tions of fans have done to mythol­o­gize the band’s brief exis­tence over the past 45 years, here is evi­dence that even Joy Divi­sion had an off night once in a while.

Relat­ed con­tent:

75 Post-Punk and Hard­core Con­certs from the 1980s Have Been Dig­i­tized & Put Online: Fugazi, GWAR, Lemon­heads, Dain Bra­m­age (with Dave Grohl) & More

The His­to­ry of Rock n Roll in 10 Songs: A List Cre­at­ed by Leg­endary Rock Crit­ic Greil Mar­cus

Radio­head Cov­ers The Smiths & New Order (2007)

Hear the 50 Best Post-Punk Albums of All Time: A Nos­tal­gia-Induc­ing Playlist Curat­ed by Paste Mag­a­zine

Hear a 9‑Hour Trib­ute to John Peel: A Col­lec­tion of His Best “Peel Ses­sions”

An Ani­mat­ed His­to­ry of Goth

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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