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Buffalo Springfield – “For What It’s Worth”

About the Song

Buffalo Springfield and the ’60s zeitgeist

“(Stop, Hey What’s That Sound)” is a song written by Stephen Stills and performed by Buffalo Springfield. It was released in December 1966 as the B-side of the single “Nowadays Clancy Can’t Even Sing”. The song quickly became a hit, reaching number 7 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the spring of 1967. It has since been covered by many artists, including Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Neil Young, and Brad Mehldau.

The song is a product of its time, reflecting the social and political upheaval of the 1960s. The lyrics reference the Sunset Strip curfew riots, which took place in Los Angeles in November 1966. The riots were sparked by a police crackdown on young people who were gathering on the Strip. The song’s lyrics capture the sense of frustration and anger that many young people felt at the time.

The song also reflects the growing anti-war sentiment in the United States. The line “There’s something happening here/What it is ain’t exactly clear” can be interpreted as a reference to the Vietnam War. The song’s message of peace and understanding is still relevant today, as we continue to grapple with social and political unrest.

“(Stop, Hey What’s That Sound)” is a classic example of a protest song. It is a powerful and moving song that speaks to the human desire for peace and justice. The song is a reminder that music can be a force for change, and that it can be used to raise awareness of important issues.

The song’s legacy

“(Stop, Hey What’s That Sound)” has had a lasting impact on popular culture. It has been used in numerous films and television shows, including “The Big Chill”, “Forrest Gump”, and “The Wonder Years”. The song has also been covered by many artists, including Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Neil Young, and Brad Mehldau.

The song’s message of peace and understanding is still relevant today, as we continue to grapple with social and political unrest. “(Stop, Hey What’s That Sound)” is a classic example of a protest song that can be used to raise awareness of important issues. It is a powerful and moving song that speaks to the human desire for peace and justice.

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Lyrics: For What It’s Worth

There’s something happening here
But what it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to bewareI think it’s time we stop
Children, what’s that sound?
Everybody look – what’s going down?There’s battle lines being drawn
Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong
Young people speaking’ their minds
Getting so much resistance from behindIt’s time we stop
Hey, what’s that sound?
Everybody look – what’s going down?What a field day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly saying, “hooray for our side”It’s time we stop
Hey, what’s that sound?
Everybody look – what’s going down?

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you’re always afraid
Step out of line, the man come and take you away

We better stop
Hey, what’s that sound?
Everybody look – what’s going down?

We better stop
Hey, what’s that sound?
Everybody look – what’s going down?

We better stop
Now, what’s that sound?
Everybody look – what’s going down?

We better stop
Children, what’s that sound?
Everybody look – what’s going down?

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Tucked away in a private drawer, far from the polished sets of her television show, lay a bundle of 341 letters. These were not press clippings or scripts; they were brittle, handwritten testimonies from servicemen stationed in remote barracks, deep in war-torn tunnels, and across desolate battlefields. During the long years of the Second World War, as Hollywood presented a glossy, curated image of American life, Donna Reed spent her nights reading these letters and, more remarkably, personally answering them. This was the quiet, invisible work that defined her, long before the public labeled her the quintessential television mother. Behind the camera during her production years, Reed was a different person entirely. She was rarely seen holding a script for a scene; she was more likely to be found hunched over lighting diagrams or studying the intricacies of cinematography. She possessed an uncredited producer’s mind, constantly analyzing how the frame could better reflect the reality of the family she was trying to depict. The studio environment was frequently cold and high-pressured, but she moved through it with a meticulous attention to detail that frustrated those who wanted to treat her as merely another pretty face in the cast. These tactile remnants—the stacks of ink-stained paper and the forgotten notes on camera angles—tell the story of a woman who never truly fit the box Hollywood built for her. While the world remembers the steady, comforting image of a television home, she lived a life carved out of hard labor and deep empathy. She carried the weight of those soldiers’ stories and the technical burdens of the studio floor until her final days, forever balancing the fragility of her public image against the demanding, gritty reality of her actual life.