The Grateful Dead May 1977 Poll

from what i remember, though they were already a big going concern, Garcia dying really boosted the Phish phenomenon, I def know dudes that sort of "transferred over" to being Phishheads (i mean they already liked them but the big thing about jam bands is that they sort of provide a specific type of fan experience -- this was touched on in the movie -- that a certain set of people need in their lives - the summer tours etc etc)

deadheads in 90s suburban cleveland were definitely cool kids but not jocks ime. lots of jock-adjacent cool kids sure, but sports were too big a deal where i lived for jocks to fuck it all up by smoking weed

(besinger i realize we are basically talking about Rich from the U right now haha, he was even good friends w/steve miller's kid in HS just to perfect it)

― Universal LULU Nation (upper mississippi sh@kedown), Monday, June 12, 2017 12:02 PM (three minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

Exactly!

This was my experience, too ('87-90). The only Deadheads I knew were asshole jocks/popular kids/aspiring frat boys.

― Montgomery Burns' Jazz (Tarfumes The Escape Goat), Monday, June 12, 2017 12:03 PM (two minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

James Spader's character from Pretty in Pink but with a tie-dyed Steal Your Face shirt

Best dark star that year?

I dig that one

Have I repped for The Mosque 5/25? I've listened to that one a few times on Archive. Laid back and lovely, esp "He's Gone."

to hell with May 77, listen to Phil & Ned 74: http://saveyourface.posthaven.com/phil-and-ned-1974

What is Phil &Ned?

Seastones!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XW370_ETZ4Y

that link is a comp of phil lesh and ned lagin doing insane electronic jams through the wall of sound in 1974, bewildering even the headiest of heads.

Can't even imagine what it must've been like to experience that through the Wall Of Sound. Phil was probably like, "Bankrupt, shmankrupt -- listen to this!"

hahaha

also funny to catch snippets of (mostly negative) audience reaction during Seastones segments.

What is Phil &Ned?

I was about to say, I hadn't realized my involvement.

Ned Freaks Unite

Dark Star 10/18/74 - Ned joins Keith on a second Fender Rhodes, but you can only hear it on the Archive.org SBDs, NOT on the officially released Grateful Dead Movie Soundtrack. As I understand it, ?Ned was not patched into the 16-track tape but was captured on the 2-track soundboard output. https://archive.org/details/gd74-10-18.sbd.bertha-ashley.22796.sbeok.shnf

seastones rules

ned lagin put out a new album last year -- CAT DREAMS:

"Cat Dreams is my new music album on compact disc (cd). It is a work of love, dreams, heart, magic. Music from my life shared with some beautiful little creatures, loved ones. Being a part of their lives as they were and are a part of mine. Biographical dreams and stories. Life music: sweet, emotional, deep, beautiful, happy and sad."

dude loves cats.

JSam nice tip!

There's def at least one 74 show (maybe in France?) where the rest of the Dead join in the Seastones jam

i know garcia and kreutzmann sit in on the Alexandra Palace Seastones -- https://archive.org/details/gd1974-09-11.sbd.unknown.4647.shnf

Someone should poll Feedback vs. Seastones vs. Space.

Sam Cutler (via fb):

LONG STRANGE TRIP – my thoughts on the film

Where the hell to BEGIN? Well, let’s begin with love. I loved the film. I loved that so many of the people in the film expressed love, LIVED in love, loved one another, and MOST OF ALL, loved Jerry. I became for a few years another person in that psychedelic army of people all over the planet who loved that gentle and so-loving man and his band. I was just so amazingly fortunate to have been his tour manager, co-manager (with Jon McIntyre and David Parker) and his agent, through my company Out of Town Tours from 1970 – 74.

Amir Bar Lev, the mountain-climber’s mountain-climber, sure picked one hell of a hill to climb when he decided to make this film! Solo unaided up the face of El Capitan in Yosemite has nothing on the perils associated with trying to ‘capture’ who what where how and when on the Grateful Dead. It’s an ‘impossible task’ on a rational level, but thankfully rationality was never a particularly necessary attribute around the band and the family – in fact, it seemed sometimes that the wackier things were, the better. It never seemed to represent too much of a problem, and (of course) people loved the madness, but only up to a point! When it got to be too much, the good ol’ Grateful Dead simply ‘retreated’ or ‘practiced invisibility’.

Jerry might not have been the whole ship, but he sure as heck was the vessel. AND the anchor! I was struck by what people decided to say in the film – what they articulated as ‘appropriate for posterity’. How (for example) some of the more ‘fey’ representatives of the family laughed uproariously at the notion that latter-day dead-heads could be told (or asked) to behave and not come to shows if they didn’t have tickets; whilst on the other hand, these same modern day ‘libertarians’ (so hip and so free) could happily suggest that there were too many nasty hairy Hells Angels back-stage for their taste. Jerry, bless him, kept it all in balance. For example, he point-blank refused to sign any letter to the fans when their behaviour became an issue, and he pointedly welcomed the Hells Angels to concerts as he welcomed anyone who loved the music.

The film left me an emotional mess. In the midst of it all I burst into tears and had to be comforted by my son Bodhi. It was, at times, unbelievably painful to see the mistakes we made, the errors of judgement, the poor planning, the rampant nihilism, that led like some tragic operatic shuffle towards Jerry’s demise. BUT, conversely, it was thrilling to see how all of those too-human errors that we made were happily embraced by the family and the band and laughed about, and thus in some crazy unexplainable way ‘survived’. Embracing ‘failures’ was surely one of the distinctive markers of the magnificence of the Grateful Dead. There was room for all.

One little thing stands out as a perfect example of the Grateful Dead’s approach and how posterity has somehow ‘misinterpreted’ what happened. The record company hated the tapers because they believe it would damage the band’s record sales. The band was in a quandary. It was decided that the taping couldn’t be allowed. Myself and the crew had the unenviable task of implementing this ‘edict’. That lasted for two shows at the most, then we brought up the situation in the dressing room prior to a show. We had all taken a trip and were getting high. We explained to Jerry “we aint cops, we don’t wanna be cops” and the policy of stopping taping was then and there abandoned as it was unanimously agreed that asking ANYONE to ‘police’ the tapers was a bridge too far. That was it. No big deal. We tried it. (banning the tapers) It didn’t work, so we immediately abandoned it and moved on. This was later interpreted by some Wall Street people as a supreme example of the Grateful Dead’s business ‘acumen’ which directly led thru the distribution of the tapers recordings to the bands huge commercial success. As if we’d planned it all ! You have to laugh!

WHERE did I cry in the film? Where did I laugh? When Barbara said that Jerry told her “I’d just like to live on the ice-cream money”. I thought THAT was so poignant that I cried like a baby. Poor Jerry, the thing that he had spent his life creating and nurturing consumed him in the end, and it seemed as if no-one could save him, though they all surely tried. The ONE thing that they COULD have done, they DIDN’T DO !!!! Namely, they could have ‘abandoned ship’. Called the whole thing to a halt and simply STOPPED. Jerry could have scuba-dived for the rest of his days. BUT, no-one could bring themselves to do it, and Jerry, poor Jerry, disappeared down the dumb rabbit-hole of heroin. PigPen had died, Keith had died, Brent had gone before him – tragic and ghastly precursors of what was to come. Vince followed thereafter.

The film captured it all. It was heart-breaking, and yet in the end it was MORE than simply THAT. It was an epic trip those guys wrote on the pages of their lives, an adventure of Homeric proportion and Shakespearian intensity, that has had no equal. Phil said some beautiful soulful things, as did Micky and Billy and Bobby – these guys were the true psychedelic explorers of their time and showed us how to LIVE. Phil said: “the Grateful Dead was the best thing that ever happened to me” and that goes for me too, and everyone else that was ‘on the bus’. As soon as I’ve ‘recovered’ I want to see the film again .. and again. It has so MUCH depth and is so subtle.

Amir Bar Lev is to be congratulated on a magnificent achievement. The Grateful Dead never quite managed to capture the ‘sound of heavy air’ in the recording studio, but Amir got it on film. In the end, the movie rendered me speechless and just simply GRATEFUL to all the guys in the band and all the people in the family for the four years I was involved. They were the best years of my life.

that's nice, he was my fav person in the film for sure

yeah cutler was great -- would probably just watch 3 hours of him rambling in the back of that van.

yeah no shit, i'd love his take on the Stones

Every band should have a Cutler; I can't imagine the Dead continuing past 1972 without him. I really want to check out his book.

It's fucked up that he defends the Angels, though.

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/70/Sam_Cutler.jpg/800px-Sam_Cutler.jpg

beautiful review by Cutler there, v nice indeed

he did write a book a few years back -- haven't read it though: https://www.amazon.com/You-Cant-Always-What-Want/dp/155022932X

ah i need to watch this

Trixie Garcia did a Reddit AMA yesterday:

Yes, Tupac came over to Jerry's house when Jerry was on the road. They didn't destroy it, but I have a distinct memory of people handing keyboards through the windows. Let me clarify, Tupac certainly wasn't a thief and his friends weren't thieves, it was a party that got out of hand. It was my good relationship with Tupac and his boys in Marin City that allowed me to get all that stuff back.

And Jerry never noticed. Or Jerry might have noticed, but he was such a non-confrontational kind of dad that he never told me he noticed.

I'm abt 6 episodes in and the doc is so great. So much footage that I've never seen elsewhere. Bobby is soooo out there, Phil is a tiny bit boring, and the roadies/managers are great.

Sam Cutler's book is very disappointing.

Just bought this cool shirt. Has "Ithaca 77" on the back

http://www.dead.net/sites/default/files/imagecache/product-main/ithacatshirt_1.jpg

Sam Cutler's book is very disappointing.
― Luna Schlosser, Wednesday, June 28, 2017 2:54 PM (one month ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

bummed to see this, literally just hit the order button in another tab

Listening to Atlanta Fox Theater 5/18/77 this morning. Man, the first set is mellow if mellow is your bag: slow version of "Friend of the Devil," "Must Have Been the Roses," and "High Time" all clocking in at 10 minutes plus each. Great narcoleptic rainy day stuff.

i've been listening to some 77 JGB and holy shit is it slow. i think some head referred to it as "persian tempos," referring to the strain of heroin Garcia preferred. yow!

I've seen that too. The Atlanta second set also includes an 11 minute "Ship of Fools" and what I'm pretty sure is the slowest "Stella Blue" I've ever heard. Personally I'm loving this show, but Jer must have really been pissing off the twirlers that night.

lol even the "Around and Around" is slow!

https://68.media.tumblr.com/1126a1fca90d5ed1418809b8dc44dea0/tumblr_ou0gaxlSpJ1qzy30io1_1280.jpg

Ouch.

Okay, I'm listening to the Atlanta show again today, and I'm going out on a limb to say it's - if not "better" than Barton Hall - pretty much my ideal Dead listening right now.

No "El Paso" or "Mama Tried" in the first set to harsh my mellow (sorry, not a fan of Dead versions of either) and Bob isn't all shouty on "Minglewood." I'm also not big on "Dancin' in the Streets" and kinda burned out on "Scarlet/Fire" these days, so I prefer the Atlanta setlist to Barton.

Sound on this is stellar too, you can really hear the guitar interplay between Jerry and Bob. Plenty of shimmery leads, but it (almost never) gets over-noodly.

I'm even digging "Lazy Lightning/Supplication," and I'm generally not into those much.

how do you rate the night after? a couple nice slow takes there too

Not familiar, I'll give it a try!

listened to 4/23/77 the other day, kind of my ideal setlist and there's even a matrix recording which i'm normally into but i found the show pretty flat overall... i think there's some saying about not judging a show by the setlist, guess i learned that one

An offending extract from the Sam Cutler book (sorry for long quote)

On the second night of the Port Chester gig, high as a kite and feeling good, with the briefcase stashed and everything in order, I wandered back into the auditorium. The place was cooking, literally —it felt as hot as a baker’s oven. The same policeman in full uniform uniform I had seen earlier now stood at the side of the room with his back to a wall. Immediately in front of him, a couple of thousand delirious hippies were having the time of their lives. I wandered across to say hello.

I introduced myself, showing him my security pass, and asked how he was doing. He remembered me from before, but seemed a little friendlier this time. “Man, I been here for over two hours and I’m sweatin’ and I ain’t had nothin’ to drink and I need a break,” he told me. I smiled at him.

“You fancy a beer? I’ll get you a beer if you want one.”

He looked horrified. “Man, it’s more than my life’s worth to drink a beer. I’m on duty.”

I sighed sympathetically and apologized, saying, “Of course you are, sorry about that. Anyway, what d’you think of the show?”

He smiled. “That’s one hell of a band you got there; the acoustic set was great.” I thought to myself, well, at least he likes the music. He motioned with his arm to the kids boogying like mad in the auditorium. “Nice buncha kids, no problems here, these kids are having fun.”

I looked at him and smiled. “Tell you what, buddy, I know you’re on duty, but you surely could drink a Coca-Cola, couldn’t you?”

He sighed. “You know what, I’d love one, but before we came on duty we had a briefing from the captain and he told us all not to touch anything, ’cos it was likely to be contaminated with that LSD.”

I was as high as the Empire State Building, and I smiled at him again. “Seems a pity a man can’t have a drink on such a hot night.”He nodded and looked glum. I pretended to have a flash of inspiration.

“Tell you what. I could get you a Coca-Cola unopened. That way you’d be safe. There’s no way anyone can mess with a Coca-Cola in an unopened can. You can open it yourself.”

“You know what,” he said, “I reckon that would be okay.” I fetched a cold drink from the garbage can that stood on the stage and wiped away the excess water. Between the tab and the lip of the can a small drop of magic was applied, and I wandered back into the auditorium to find my thirsty policeman. I handed him the unopened can and he pulled the tab and drank with a gasp of satisfaction.

I gave him a wink and told him, “You want another one, you just let me know.” I leaned against the wall with my new best buddy and looked at the audience, checking out the view. A short time passed and the policeman took off his hat. Then he loosened his tie. It was, after all, really hot in the building. “Would you like another Coke?” I asked and he nodded appreciatively. I wandered backstage and grabbed a couple, though it was no longer necessary for the magic ingredient to be applied. He smiled as I handed him the Cokes and nodded toward the audience.

Less than five feet away, a lovely girl danced. She moved like a flower that stands in a soft breeze, her arms like petals wandering above her head, and her whole being shining with a serene light. She danced for herself; she danced for creation; she danced with the music; and she danced quite naturally and effortlessly for the policeman, who thought of himself for once as the luckiest man in the world.

I returned backstage to stand behind the amplifiers, to lose myself in the music of the gods and to relax. Over the stage apron I could see the policeman: he was smiling. In front of him, several beautiful girls were dancing as if for his pleasure. He was like a Pasha with his harem. He was no longer the outsider but was now the same as all of us in the auditorium, at one with the people and the music. Garcia noticed the cop and smiled knowingly at me. I grinned to myself as a voice in my head softly whispered the words: “Game, set, and match.”

It always amazes me that so many people considered dosing someone without their consent a light-hearted prank and not a violation. All those stories of Pigpen specifically saying he didn't want to trip and them making a game out of trying to slip it to him anyway seem creepy to me, even more so when told as though it was just this amusing goof-off. Ditto those times in the Haight house when Lesh (or maybe it was Weir) refused to trip and Bear essentially stormed up and harangued them into doing it despite their objections.

Have I repped for The Mosque 5/25? I've listened to that one a few times on Archive. Laid back and lovely, esp "He's Gone."
― smug dinner-jazz atrocity (Dan Peterson), Tuesday, June 13, 2017 12:05 PM (two months ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

came to post about this, really nice. think this might be my favorite may 77 show now, tied with pembroke pines probably