Garcia?

California

“Hi, I’m Bobby and this is my shockingly age-appopriate wife.”

“Wendy.”

“Look at our feet!”

ADDENDUM: We have been informed that the woman caring about the earth to Bobby’s right is his sister. GORGEOUS. The bone structure, the cheeks, the lips. I want to watch them make a mouth sandwich with me as the meat. My meat and my summerberries: they’re ripe, ripe for you and you alone, my summerberry Princess Leia. You’re my girl-Bobby now, yes you are. That’s why I had to eat–

That’s enough. He’s got to go. Sorry pal, we tried.

But, Billy  keeps punching me in my summer–

He does that. Christ, why does this job keep driving them insane? 

The irresistible force of longing vs. the immovable object of mortality?

That or the drugs. Next up.

Garcia?

Silly Billy

Yes, of course there’s about to be a dickpunching, but it looks to be self-inflicted.

Garcia?

Dave’s Nit-Picks

So, the new Dave’s Pick going to be 10/22/71 from the Auditorium Theater in Chicago, IL and it’s a hell of a show. They announced it, like, hours ago and the whining has commenced. Here is how you do not get me on your side of the argument: “Why haven’t we seen more releases from ’84?” Because of the amount of awfulness. There was, good sir, too much awfulness in 1984 and all the grown-ups knew this years ago. There is no groundswell; no one clamors.

It’s a good choice: go check out the powerful Comes a Time and then LISTEN TO 3;05 WHEN GARCIA GOES INTO HIS FALSETTO! In fact, listen to every single thing Garcia sings and plays on this all-time performance.

Then hit the (half-hour) Other One where Keith whips out his piano dong and shows everyone the sheer magnitude of it and everybody’s like: nice piano dong, meaty; and Keith doesn’t say anything, just keeps donging away and then remember that it’s his THIRD SHOW. Kneel before Zod.

I’ll Tumble For Ya

I realize I’ve been treating the bloggings like a tumblr recently, so here are some actual great Dead tumblrs for your Wednesday enjoyment.

Ok, and a picture…

Earmuffs

No caption necessary, is there?

Pics Or It Didn’t Happen

And speaking of Lindley, how’s the Original Hipster Garcia in his old-school Pumas?

And how about the boys enjoying a real good time?

The Strangest Of Places

1975. Weird year. Weird shows, with an “everybody in the pool” type of vibe to them.  “Who showed up? Ned? Umm. Does he have any weed? Well, give him a keyboard, I guess.” Merl and  Matthew Kelley (pre-dickpunching incident) sit in; Sammy Davis, Jr. comes out for a number. And each set begins the only proper way a Grateful Dead show can: with an intro by Bill Graham.

The drummers weren’t quite together yet, and the sound is cluttered, but it’s HUGE and it just doesn’t sound like any other year. Garcia sounds like it’s ’72, laying down long, ropey lines and just soloing throughout pretty much every song, expecting the other 97 musicians on stage to carry the actual song. Due to the ad hoc nature of most of the Hiatus show, having a grand piano on stage was impossible (said the road crew before pantsing Keith, forcing Donna Jean to shoo them away. “You have to stand up for yourself, baby. Can’t let the bigger boys bully you. Look at me, Keith: it gets better.”) so Keith was confined to the Fender Rhodes

Did they ever really retire? Were they ever serious about it? The fake-out retirement is a classic show-biz move: Sinatra retired at least 17 times, the Stones have done five straight farewell tours, Tupac became a hologram for some reason. They certainly needed a break from playing Atlas with the Wall of Sound, there was way too much coke and the Persian was creeping into the scene.

So, they took ’75 off, playing only 4 shows, all of them backyard gigs in the Bay Area. The most well-known (justly) is 8/13, the One from the Vault release from the Great American Music Hall. The S.N.A.C.K. benefit was certainly the weirdest: the human brain hadn’t evolved for a pre-noon Blues for Allah. The Winterland show in June is the most overlooked.

But the Secret Hero show is 9/28/75–Lindley Meadows in Golden Gate Park. Check out the Franklin’s, where Mickey and Billy chase each other around with their cymbals and Garcia lets loose a roaring solo right after “…if you get confused, listen to the music play.” AND THEN THE END OF FRANKLIN’S HOLY SHIT which is like the end of He’s Gone with the long a capella call-and-response and it’s just remarkable.

Aaaaaaand then the intro to Big River, which is a mess.

P.S. Thank you to the tapers, to the archivists, to the digital cleanup artists, to the uploaders. Thank you to the scribes and the safekeepers. After all, if Bobby forgets he words to Truckin’ and it is not preserved, then did he really forget the words? (Most likely, yes. Bobby forgot the words to Truckin’ so much it was on his to-do list: hair, squats, tickle-time with Garcia, slide guitar lesson (cancelled), forget words to Truckin’.)

P.P.S.  As I was writing about my gratitude for the archivists and digital Jawas that keep everything running, Archive.org went down.