June 18, 1967. A Sunday night in California. Most of the crowd at the Monterey County Fairgrounds had no idea who the skinny guy with the feather boa was. By the time he finished playing Wild Thing, the world of rock and roll was fundamentally broken. In a good way.
Jimi Hendrix didn't just play a song. He staged a ritual. Honestly, if you watch the D.A. Pennebaker footage today, it still feels dangerous. It’s messy. It’s loud. It's basically the moment the 1960s stopped being about "flower power" and started being about something much heavier.
The Most Famous Cover Song in History?
Most people forget that "Wild Thing" wasn't even his song. It was written by Chip Taylor—who, fun fact, is the brother of actor Jon Voight. It had already been a massive #1 hit for The Troggs a year earlier. Their version was caveman rock. Simple. Stomping.
Hendrix took that simple skeleton and draped it in feedback.
He introduced it as "the English and American anthem combined." Kinda weird, right? But he was playing for an American audience that had largely ignored him while he was becoming a star in London. He had something to prove. Pete Townshend and The Who had just smashed their gear on stage right before him. Jimi knew he had to go bigger.
He didn't just smash things. He brought lighter fluid.
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Why the Guitar Sacrifice Actually Matters
You've probably seen the photo. Jimi kneeling over his Fender Stratocaster, hands waving like he's summoning a demon from the flames.
It wasn't just a stunt. Hendrix later called it a "sacrifice." He said, "You sacrifice the things you love. I love my guitar."
But let’s look at the technical side for a second. During the Monterey performance of Wild Thing, Hendrix was doing things with a guitar that literally shouldn't have been possible in 1967.
- Physicality: He played with his teeth. He played behind his back.
- Feedback: He used his Marshall stacks to create a wall of sustained noise that most engineers at the time would have tried to "fix."
- Sexual Energy: The way he ground the guitar against the amps was provocative, even for the Summer of Love.
The performance lasted nearly nine minutes. Most of it wasn't even "singing." It was a sonic assault. When he finally doused the red Strat in Zippo fluid and struck the match, he wasn't just destroying an instrument. He was destroying the idea of the "polite" pop star.
The Gear Behind the Chaos
If you’re a gear head, the Monterey Wild Thing setup is holy grail territory. He was playing a 1965 Fender Stratocaster. It had a "Fiesta Red" finish that he’d hand-painted with white psychedelic swirls and hearts earlier that day in his hotel room.
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Imagine that. You’re about to play the biggest show of your life, and you’re sitting there with a can of spray paint and some markers.
The guitar didn't survive, obviously. He smashed it into pieces after the fire got too high. One of those shards ended up at the Museum of Pop Culture in Seattle. Fender has since released dozens of "Monterey Strat" replicas, trying to capture that specific hand-painted look. But you can't really replicate the sound of a guy who was basically inventing modern lead guitar on the fly.
What Most People Get Wrong
There's a common myth that Jimi was "angry" or just trying to outdo The Who. While the competition with Pete Townshend was real (they reportedly argued backstage about who would go first), the vibe on stage wasn't angry.
If you look at his face during the feedback loops of Wild Thing, he’s smiling. He’s having a blast.
Also, people think he did this every night. He didn't. Setting the guitar on fire happened only a handful of times, with Monterey being the most iconic. He knew the value of a spectacle. He was a showman who had spent years on the "Chitlin' Circuit" backing up acts like Little Richard and the Isley Brothers. He knew how to grab an audience by the throat.
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The Aftermath of a Seven-Minute Song
Before Monterey, Jimi was a London curiosity. The next morning, he was the most talked-about musician in America.
The performance of Wild Thing forced everyone to catch up. Heavy metal, punk, and experimental noise all have roots in those few minutes of feedback. It proved that the electric guitar wasn't just for playing melodies; it was a machine for creating raw emotion.
How to Experience It Today
If you want to really "get" why this matters, don't just look at the photos.
- Watch the Film: Find the Criterion Collection version of Monterey Pop. The audio mix is way better than the grainy YouTube clips.
- Listen for the "Strangers in the Night" lick: Right in the middle of the chaos of Wild Thing, Jimi quotes the Frank Sinatra melody. It’s a cheeky, brilliant moment of musical humor amidst the noise.
- Check the Setlist: Remember that "Wild Thing" was the closer. He had already blown minds with "Killing Floor" and "Like a Rolling Stone." By the time the fire started, the audience was already exhausted.
Go back and listen to the original Troggs version, then jump straight to the Monterey recording. It’s like moving from a black-and-white photo to a 4K explosion. Jimi didn't just cover a pop song; he claimed it, burned it, and left the ashes for the rest of us to figure out.
The best way to appreciate it now is to find the loudest speakers you own, turn the bass up until the windows rattle, and hit play on the live Monterey version. Pay attention to the moment right before the fire—the pure, unadulterated feedback. That's where the magic is.
Next Steps for the Hendrix Fan
Check out the 1970 Atlanta Pop Festival version of "Wild Thing" to see how his style evolved toward the end of his life. It’s less about the fire and more about the incredible, fluid improvisation that defined his final year. You can also look into the "Black Beauty" Stratocaster he used later, which shows a much more stripped-down, professional side of his stage presence.