The Electric Lady Experience

In early summer 1970, Laguna Beach artist and surfer Lance Jost was scraping by, designing rock posters and painting surfboards just to cover his rent. Then, a chance meeting with The Endless Summer surf star Mike Hynson catapulted Jost into the inner orbit of rock royalty.

Hynson had recently returned from Maui, where he’d filmed a low-budget surf “happening” featuring a colorful cast of surfers and self-styled mystics from the infamous Brotherhood of Eternal Love in Laguna Canyon.

Through serendipity and strategic charm, Hynson met Jimi Hendrix’s British manager, Michael Jeffery, on the bluff overlooking Honolua Bay. Jeffery was intrigued by Hynson’s surfing and his vision for the film, which was later titled Rainbow Bridge. Sensing an opportunity for a filmed concert and album, à la the recent Woodstock festival, Jeffery got Hendrix on board and secured Warner Bros. to underwrite and distribute the project.

Just before returning to Maui to continue film production, Hynson invited Jost to a La Jolla Mexican café to meet Jeffery and discuss film-credit design. Jeffery was impressed by Jost’s portfolio—a kaleidoscope of cosmic visions inspired by the sea and Middle Earth mythology.

Backstage at Hendrix’s San Diego concert shortly thereafter, Jost’s work got the nod from Jimi himself, who envisioned an ambitious future for his new Electric Lady Studios, in Greenwich Village, New York City. The space—a repurposed 1930s country-western nightclub formerly called the Village Barn—was to be more than a place to record. Hendrix wanted it to be a launchpad for epic musical journeys.

Designed by architect and acoustics expert John Storyk, Electric Lady was already set to defy traditional studio aesthetics with flowing lines, rounded windows, and surreal concave structures. With Hendrix’s approval, Jost began conceptualizing a 100-foot mural depicting the interior of a baroque spacecraft piloted by elfin aliens drifting through uncharted galaxies.

But fewer than two months later, tragedy struck. On September 18, 1970, Hendrix was found dead in his London apartment from an overdose. Chaos engulfed the studio. Hendrix’s dream teetered on collapse.

Yet Jeffery refused to abandon the project. Scraping together resources, he kept the studio afloat and brought Jost on board—albeit with a drastically reduced budget. By November 1970, Jost had arrived in Greenwich Village. The staff, grieving and under pressure, viewed him as an outsider and an unnecessary expense. But Jost didn’t back down. His vision—stars, planets, and otherworldly landscapes—wasn’t just decoration. It was Hendrix’s dream made manifest. Jost’s perseverance slowly won over the skeptics.

Meanwhile, his living situation was cold and squalid. To stretch the meager budget, the studio rented a run-down, roach-infested apartment in the East Village. From this dingy base, Jost worked tirelessly for seven months, hand-painting the massive canvases destined for the studio.

By June 1971, the murals had been installed. The unveiling drew tears and embraces from those present. Eddie Kramer, Hendrix’s top engineer, who had initially dismissed Jost, confessed, “I had no idea what you were doing here. This is amazing.”

Over the last five decades, Electric Lady has hosted a lineage of legendary musicians—from the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin to David Bowie and the Clash—each leaving their mark in the studio’s sonic archaeology. Through all these transformations, Jost’s mural has endured, a vibrant testament to the creative fusion of art, music, and passion. 

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The full account of Jost’s journey—My Brush With Hendrix, written by his wife, Donna Jost—is available at endlessdreamspublishing.com.

[Feature image courtesy of Electric Lady Studios]