The phenomenon that is the San Francisco sound rose to the heavens Saturday night at the Cow Palace. And let us hope that as everything that rises must converge, it must also prevail.

In this reviewer's opinion, Californians from Los Angeles to the Golden Gate should stand and cheer the miracle of music and poetry their young are creating.

"The Festival of Music" (an afternoon concert was also held to accommodate sellout crowds) opened with the "Sopwith Camel" singing "Little Orphan Annie" and a most beautiful, beautiful "Hello, Hello." Suddenly the world was beautiful. Nothing could surpass this, the audience seemed to sigh.

But then "Sunshine Co." came with "Four in the morning and the water is pouring down . . ." an Eastern sound and a jangle that was unnerving to untutored ears. The group became poets and musicians again as they flowed into "… smile on your brother, everybody get together and love one another …" and moved into "Back In the Street Again."

Then the British landed.

"The Who," one of the most talented groups to cross the Atlantic, put on a splendidly varied and beautiful show of songs including their best-sellers "Substitute," "I Can See For Miles," "Summertime Blues" and a very moving new song about a little boy who wonders what makes a man a man, "Tattoo."

The audience waited with stomachs tense in anticipation. "Will they do 'My Generation'?" They did. It was the blitz all over again. Siren-like screams, smoke rose in blue flickering lights, a drum was smashed, then an amplifier, to the tune of yells, screams and a final crash of a guitar – all in the name of youth.

One wonders, not Who but WHY? An intermission was granted.

When the lights went down again, the San Francisco sound reappeared. "The Animals" is Eric Burdon.

"Black is Black" is a bad song to do at the Cow Palace. The one-syllable sounds don't make it on the sputtery equipment which the arena supplies. But the lighting was fantastic and so was Burdon in "On a Warm San Francisco Night."

Burdon followed with "Down in Monterey," a musical narrative of the folk festival there – "three days of understanding" – then danced wildly in smoke and flickering blue lights that suddenly enveloped the stage in a psychedelic effect.

The Burdon finale was one of weird musical sounds and mystical atmosphere with the Great One staggering around in smoke and lights with arms outstretched like a dazed King Kong.

Then clean-cut, all-America walked onstage. The "Everly Brothers" in all the glory of their cornfed, close-harmonied "Susie-singing" ("Wake Up Little Susie," "Susie-Q," etc. . .), and caused several hundred Flower Children's petals to ruffle. But, as everyone knows, Flower Children don't heckle, they show their love even for musical enemies.

During "Let It Be Me," the Haight-Ashbury contingent stood, applauded, yelled "Bravo, more more …" snickering in their beards all the way. A most sarcastic display of un-love.

Finally, "The Association" appeared and the audience let 'em know that it was their "machine" they had come to hear. And they did. "Along Comes Mary," "Reputation," "Goodby Love," Bob Dylan's "Thousand Nights," "Cherish" and many more.

The highlight of the entire festival was an "Association" song, "Requiem for the Masses," dedicated, they said "to anyone who has ever died without knowing why." It is a work of art – of peace and love. Humanity set to music. The only thing that is equal to it in the pop field is Phil Ochs' "The Crucifixion" from "Pleasures of the Harbor."

Time was when "The Animals" headlined shows and "The Association" trailed low on the bill. Times have changed and so has their music. For sheer production and mysticism, Burdon can't be beat. But for poetry, music and message, "The Association" has it, one thinks even over the "Jefferson Airplane."

The concert ended around midnight, but for those who were there, it didn't really. Let's hope it never does.