(First off, apologies for not posting in a month. I would have liked to post more often, but it isn't always possible.)
Continuing our trip through 1970....
http://deadessays.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-1970.html
http://deadessays.blogspot.com/2010/04/march-1970.html
The Dead didn't play many shows in April 1970, but as usual for the year, we are still missing several shows. Although they were taped, many reels were haphazardly lost or stolen - as a result, two of the Dark Stars of this month, and one of the only Alligator>Cautions of 1970, are gone.
4/3/70
This evening found the Dead playing a show at the University of Cincinnati. Our tape is a muffled, bassy, buzzing mono recording - the show itself is pretty standard, but the highlights would shine more in better quality. (Some of it has been played on the Taper's Section, though.) The opening acts were the Lemon Pipers, and Ken Kesey & the Merry Pranksters....I'm in some doubt as to what kind of show the Pranksters put on! But they must have been welcome company for the Dead.
Lesh grumpily announces after the opening Casey Jones: "We have a little TROUBLE with the MONITORS, because they're NOT on." China>Rider, as usual, has only a brief transition jam. In Hard to Handle, Garcia's solo is also brief, cut short when Pigpen jumps back in! Things open up with Dancin' in the Streets. (Weir announces it: "This one is a drummer's choice.") The jam gallops along, and includes a nice Tighten Up theme.
After Me & My Uncle, Weir says, "We're gonna take a brief pause here and set up the stage so we can sit down and play some acoustic guitars and play some nice quiet music for all you people." The acoustic set starts with a good, speedy Friend of the Devil (still including some alternate lyrics). Garcia asks, "Can you hear out there? Can you bring up the monitors a little, Bob? The drummers are having a hard time hearing up here. Do we have a monitor adjustment crew?"
The acoustic set is high-spirited - one thing I didn't notice in previous acoustic sets is that there's now light drumming throughout, and very quiet bass, a setup we'll hear in all the sets this month. And in a trend that would continue through the month, almost every acoustic song is Garcia's - not one Weir song! (There is a nice Wake Up Little Susie.) This set also features the first Candyman, freshly composed with unfinished lyrics - Garcia sings one wordless verse, "la da da." To end the set, Sam Cutler says, "Hot welcome for Pigpen!" Pigpen and Cutler take quite a while trying to get the guitar mic turned on. A Pigpen sample: "I got weak fingers, so it's got to be kind of close... Is this guitar coming through the PA at all? I can't hear shit. Well, I'll fake it... I forgot the song..." Once things are resolved, Pigpen delivers Katie Mae. (Note that the linked copy is missing the long intro, but it's on the other Archive copy.)
The electric set resumes with more Pigpen. Most of the Good Lovin' verses are cut on the tape - the band comes back early in the drum solo, but the promising jam is very short, soon stifled when Lesh starts up the Good Lovin' riff after only a couple minutes.
The Other One suite, as you'd expect, is the highlight of the show. The Cryptical intro gives way to a long, tumbling drum solo, which drops into a rapid, pell-mell Other One. This version rushes along with a mean, dirty feeling, Garcia turning up the fierceness. The Cryptical reprise quietly ambles a while in a relaxing trance - until the last "you know he had to die", when it bursts open in a raging flood that soon subsides. Garcia keeps it short, and segues into a solid Cosmic Charlie. Rather than ending there, they make a unique segue into a short, quick Not Fade Away. This isn't extended very much - Garcia seems like he's about to take the band into a nice mellow jam, but nothing much happens, so they head into Lovelight.
Lovelight's OK - it's also kept short, they skip the usual extended rap. (I wonder, even though the show is over two hours, were they rushing to meet a time limit, or in a hurry to get backstage with the Pranksters?)
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-04-03.sbd.cotsman.4283.sbefail.shnf
The Fillmore West run from April 9-12 is famous as the run where the Miles Davis band opened for the Dead. I've talked about that elsewhere (mainly in the "Dead and Jazz" post), but will focus just on the Dead's music here. Sadly, we only have about half of the music they played. David Lemieux notes, "Most of the tapes from this run are missing from the vault....there are only about six total reels from the four nights."
Fortunately audience tapers showed up on two of those nights, but their efforts were not enough - the 10th and 11th have pretty much vanished.
4/9/70
From the first night we have a booming, muddy, wobbly, but fairly listenable audience tape, taped by Harry Ely - stopping the tape between songs, but capturing the whole show. There's also a partial SBD of the first 45 minutes, picking up at the start of Me & My Uncle and ending at the end of Uncle John's. (So we have to turn to the AUD for the whole second electric set, though it's rather hard to enjoy.)
The Dead are the last band you'd think of to play James Brown funk, but here they are playing their first It's A Man's World. (Garcia and Lesh had played Brown's song on their April '67 guest-DJ radio show, so obviously it stuck with them. Perhaps coincidentally, Miles Davis was also a James Brown admirer, looking to put more Brown-style funk into his own music.) Garcia doesn't solo much in this first version - they mostly stick to the rhythm, still ironing out their arrangement. They'd play it at every Dead show this month, and it would get better each time (but would soon be phased out).
Afterwards, Weir says, "We're gonna take you from all this sweat and steam and uproar and tumult, and we're gonna break out our acoustic guitars and regale you with some wooden music." The acoustic set again has light drums and very quiet bass - and it's all Garcia songs again. Candyman is a bit more worked-out, they've now added harmonies to the wordless verse. Uncle John's Band has bongo percussion (instead of straight drums as on 4/3), which gives it a more interesting latin feel.
After this, almost the entire electric set is a standout. In Good Lovin', after a long drum solo, there's a false start to the jam, then a little bass solo before the jam resumes. Pigpen joins them on organ - the jam is longer, more dramatic and freestyle than the usual Good Lovin' jam, but still seems to go back to the verse too soon.
Then we have a bizarre audience-participation tune where the crowd claps in time, and the band builds up an improvised hoedown to the beat - the drums going rat-a-tat, a jaw-harp loudly twanging, and the guitars playing country fills. A mystery singer comes on and bawls out the catchy "cowboy song", which the crowd digs.
Now that everyone's warmed up, the band launch right into a storming Other One. This is a tough, brooding version, long and tense and driven - Pigpen is loud and clear on the organ, and active in the jam. The Cryptical reprise gets the full treatment, the opening quiet part ominously stretched-out as the audience whoops - when the music explodes, it's hard to appreciate due to the poor quality - but it slides into a short concluding spell of harmonics, and comes to a stop without a segue.
Not Fade Away is great. There's a long, very hot jam, Garcia pouring out a fiery nonstop solo, Pigpen interjecting on organ. After the last verse, they segue into Lovelight as the audience screams. (Unusually, Pigpen stays on organ for a few bars of Lovelight.)
Most tapes had only the first half of Lovelight before cutting, but the Archive copy pieces together the full version from an old (inferior) source - still only twenty minutes, short for a Lovelight! This sounds like a typical Lovelight beneath the murk - you can't hear Pig's rap very well. I don't remember hearing a pocket-pool rap in this one, but there is one spot where he says, "Get up on the stage - come on up, bring her on up. She's not in the union? What union you need to meet a woman?" Weir starts a heavy riff, and they move into a nice prolonged, metallic finale with gonging chords.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-04-09.sbd.hanno.6157.sbeok.shnf
4/10/70
Setlist: [electric] Cold Rain And Snow; New Speedway Boogie; Mama Tried; China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider; Hard To Handle; Casey Jones; [acoustic] Friend Of The Devil; Deep Elem Blues; Candyman; Wake Up Little Susie > Black Peter; Uncle John's Band; [electric] It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World; Dancin In The Street; High Time; Alligator > Caution > And We Bid You Good Night.
We can only imagine.
4/11/70
Setlist: [electric] Cold Rain And Snow; I'm A King Bee; Beat It On Down The Line; Dire Wolf; It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World; [acoustic] Don't Ease Me In; New Speedway Boogie; Friend Of The Devil; Me And My Uncle; Deep Elem Blues; Candyman; Black Peter; Uncle John's Band; [electric] Dark Star > Saint Stephen > Not Fade Away > Lovelight.
In a stroke of diabolical fate, just one reel of the last half-hour survives - the least interesting part of the show!
The tape comes in at the very end of a raucous Not Fade Away, just before it fades away into a long, lively half-hour Lovelight. Interestingly, Pigpen plays organ during the Lovelight jam, but otherwise it's mostly standard. He gets into his usual rap telling "you fellows standing around with your hands in your pockets, acting cool and all that business...if you want a girl to come home with you, just turn around and say, 'Hey, what's your name? Would you like to come home with me?'" The audience seems unconvinced, so Pigpen tries some individual persuasion: "This guy down here in the glasses - why don't you turn around - I know you been looking at her, I've been watching you. Or you with the fuzzy hair - what about the chick next to you? What's her name? Everybody is chicken in this place! Who else... OK, how 'bout you? Why don't you turn around and ask that man behind you what his name is. Go on. Everybody watch this lady... Go on, get him! I got an audience full of liars!"
Meanwhile the band starts playing a nice, driving rhythm. As Pigpen's rap goes on, this degenerates into a little merry-go-round tune - then after the 17-minute point, they stumble into a heavy riff, and Garcia lets loose with an outrageously long, tremoloed wail of feedback, sounding like he's been possessed by Hendrix for a moment. The band gets into a little jam, with Pigpen returning to organ for a bit. The rest is the standard, big raveup finish.
(As a sidenote - New Speedway Boogie hadn't been played since 12/30/69, but it made its return in these shows. They played it electric on 4/10, and in the acoustic set on 4/11.)
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-04-11.sbd.cotsman.12072.sbeok.shnf
4/12/70
This night's audience tape is a fantastic stereo recording - except for low vocals, it sounds just like an SBD, and could be the best AUD of the year. Judging by the difference in quality, this is probably not the same taper as 4/9 - and it's quite lamentable this guy didn't show up on previous nights! Most of the show survives in SBD as well, for a change. (As with 4/9, the Archive copy patches together the AUD/SBD sources, so the full AUD isn't up.)
This show starts slowly, but has some amazing highlights. (Perhaps due to Miles' presence, they bring out a lot of their blues songs on this final night.) For whatever reason, the show is done as one long set, so the usual acoustic songs are done electrically. It's also notable for having no between-song pauses on tape - they go straight from song to song. (Although in the AUD portion, the tape is stopped between songs as well: common practice for tapers of the time with limited resources.) Bill Graham gives one of his introductions: "It's been one of those rare weekends that makes everyone feel good... If the Dead End Kids were alive today, they would be called the Grateful Dead."
They open with Good Morning Little Schoolgirl - the first known version since 12/10/69! The audience is happy to hear it again. (Pigpen starts singing at the wrong spot early in his harmonica intro: "Good....good god!") They wouldn't play this often in 1970, and perhaps because it was so rare, it never really gets going. Though lengthy, it stays very laid-back and restrained, without taking off. After a rattling Casey Jones, Weir asks, "Bear, where have you wandered off to? Please fix the monitors."
China Cat has an amusing moment - during the solo, Garcia completely forgets where he is, stumbles around for a while, and decides to head straight for Rider rather than continue China Cat! (After Rider we hear a chord of High Time as usual, but the tape cuts off there.)
Good Lovin' has a drum solo that's peppier than usual - the jam is great, hot and frenetic as Garcia blazes away, but ends all too soon when he heads back to the verse after only a couple minutes. A quick, barebones Candyman follows (this is the first electric version), and a slinky Deep Elem. After Cumberland, Garcia notes, "Bob's got a broken string."
Dancing in the Streets is the one immortalized on the Fallout from the Phil Zone CD - but it's worth checking out the AUD version as well, since Pigpen's organ isn't quite so loud, and Lesh's bass is much louder. The jam is fast and furious, Garcia's notes spitting out, and Lesh especially prodding. They feint at the Tighten Up jam - then Garcia's end-of-jam chords ring out, but he's not through, and starts the jam over again! Then it gets REALLY ecstatic, blasting into a climax - they spin into a brief Feelin' Groovy jam while Garcia pops out syncopated patterns, before slowing down for the verse.
Man's World is also excellent - Pigpen gives his all and the band becomes a spunky rhythm machine. They close the show with Viola Lee Blues, Pigpen back on organ (he actually does well in this one). The band slips into the song with ease, their playing loose but perfectly controlled - the jam escalates steadily into a boiling, wild meltdown that erases time and space. The song ends with a crash, followed by howls of feedback. Garcia says: "Thanks a lot, see you later."
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-04-12.sbd.kaplan.3820.sbeok.shnf
4/15/70
This is a standout Winterland show in excellent sound. Though it's not consistent, the playing often sparkles - deadlists speculates, "Plainly the four-show run at Fillmore West with Miles Davis inspired an extra measure of adventure."
The show opens with a strong Cold Rain & Snow. (Deadlists notes, "There are brief difficulties with the PA during Cold Rain which occur again at the beginning of the first attempt at Mama Tried and bring it to a halt. After a pause for repairs they start this tune over." The Archive copy is missing this false start.) The first few songs are pretty good - there's a tasty Garcia solo in the sharp Man's World (the best so far, though they're still working out the ending) - a very nice, skeletal Candyman - Hard to Handle sadly cuts out in the middle of a hot solo!
Cryptical signals the start of the jam, but as the drum solo ensues, a surprise is in store. A conga player and organist have apparently joined the band, and out of the drummers' rhythm they burst into a tumbling Santana-like latin jam - Weir slashing out the chords, Garcia blazing into a fast cascade of notes, and Lesh taking charge with a bass/drums break when the others falter. It's one of the Dead's most unique jams, coming out of nowhere and never played again. After five minutes they run out of steam and the drummers return to the normal Other One lead-in beat.
The Other One is hot and raging. After the verse, the jam completely changes rhythm, and it sounds like they're going to segue right into Me & My Uncle after a Garcia climax (foreshadowing 1971!) - but he shifts direction and things quiet down for a moment. The Other One riff soon takes over again, though, the band hammering it down while Garcia goes off like rockets. (Pigpen is conspicuously absent on organ during all this.)
After that, the Cryptical reprise is a disappointment - it starts out subdued and quiet, but Garcia doesn't feel like going through with it, so after a few minutes he switches to Dire Wolf. (Which is at least a change from the usual Cosmic Charlie.) The next jam highlight soon follows, though, with a long Dancin' in the Streets (again played without organ). This soon catches r&b fire - they fall into a Tighten Up jam after teasing it for a while, and the latin feel returns as they stretch out the theme at length, Garcia soloing sweetly. Garcia signals the finish with a series of jagged chords that sound a lot like the Cosmic Charlie intro (!), then takes a sideways turn into a new tempo, still jabbing out chords. Weir gently leads them back to Dancin' - Garcia initially refuses to leave his chords (making a bizarre combination), but finally jumps into a climactic run before the verse. While not as inspired as the 4/12 Dancin', this is still an excellent version. (The tapecut, fortunately, doesn't come til seconds before the song's end.)
Lovelight cuts in during a hot jam, with the first few minutes missing. It proceeds as usual - Lesh and Weir start a dramatic Sabbath-like chord sequence during Pigpen's pocket-pool rap that livens it up considerably. Garcia seems spent by this point, though, and there's no more soloing from him. In the quiet rapping part, it sounds like they're ready to go into the finale, but Garcia & Weir start up the Not Fade Away beat instead. But possibilities of a huge NFA jam are soon dashed - it's only a tease, just a short verse that immediately goes back to the Lovelight finale, which is done with lots of screaming.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-04-15.sbd.kaplan.14354.sbeok.shnf
There's a discussion speculating on the guests here -
http://lostlivedead.blogspot.com/2010/05/april-15-1970-winterland-san-francisco_13.html
Garcia was also playing a few non-Dead shows this month, with Howard Wales at the Matrix, and with the New Riders here & there. It seems to have been at this time it was decided the New Riders would go on tour with the Dead the next month - so the NRPS shows of April may have been something like public rehearsals, to get their set honed for the Dead's audiences.
(In fact, these were the first known shows Garcia had played with NRPS since November '69!)
On April 17-19, the New Riders played a run at the Family Dog, along with Charlie Musselwhite and a strange outfit called on the poster: "Mickey Hart & His Heartbeats" (and in small print: "Bobby Ace & His Cards From The Bottom Of The Deck").
Yet, these were nothing like the old Hartbeats shows - apparently it was the full Dead, playing entirely acoustic sets! These seem to have been trial runs for the expanded acoustic sets they would debut in May, with Dawson & Nelson sometimes joining the Dead - Garcia may even have played pedal-steel in some songs. We don't really know, because no tapes survive - they might not have been taped in the first place. But we do have setlists. The song selection was pretty much what we'd find in the Dead's normal acoustic sets, with an occasional exception (Cathy's Clown!). Pigpen was seemingly absent the first night, but the next two nights, he did five songs in a row! Which shows how loose these evenings must have been - usually in an acoustic set, he became uncharacteristically shy....
4/17/70
Don't Ease Me In ; Long Black Limousine ; Monkey And The Engineer ; Deep Elem Blues ; Candyman > Cumberland Blues ; Me And My Uncle ; Mama Tried ; Cathy's Clown ; Wake Up Little Susie ; New Speedway Boogie ; Friend Of The Devil ; Black Peter ; Uncle John's Band
4/18/70
Don't Ease Me In ; Silver Threads And Golden Needle ; Friend Of The Devil ; Deep Elem Blues ; Wake Up Little Susie ; Candyman > Cumberland Blues ; New Speedway Boogie ; Me And My Uncle ; Mama Tried ; Katie Mae ; The Rub ; Roberta ; Walk Down The Street ; Flood
4/19/70
I Know You Rider ; Friend Of The Devil ; Candyman ; Sawmill ; Deep Elem Blues ; The Rub ; Katie Mae ; Roberta ; Big Breasa ; She's Mine ; Cumberland Blues ; Wake Up Little Susie ; Mama Tried ; Me And My Uncle ; The Race Is On ; Uncle John's Band
4/24/70
There were two shows in Denver, on the 24th and 25th - our tape has always been dated the 24th, but there's a newspaper review that describes this show, stating it's from the next day - so most likely the tape is misdated. In any case, we have most of one show from an audience tape. The electric set turns out to be spectacular - unfortunately, the tape is not; it's a poor, buzzy, distant recording, not easy listening, though the vocals & electric guitars are fairly clear. Additionally, the taper either didn't bring enough tape or had troubles with his machine, for the recording runs out at the worst possible moment!
John Hammond opened with an acoustic blues set. I used to think our Dead tape was missing the start of the show, and they'd opened with an electric set as usual - but the paper review and other witnesses say they started with an acoustic set. This would have been the first time, but it became the standard arrangement in May.
Our tape starts off low-key, with a new acoustic arrangement of I Know You Rider - separated once more from China Cat and slowed down to a funereal dirge, Weir harmonizing with Garcia on some verses. I Know You Rider is an unusual song to start the show with, so more songs might be missing - if this is the start of the show, it's a very chilly opener. (And, though this is our first acoustic Rider, they'd actually opened their 4/19 set with it as well.)
Of course, some people in the audience chatter through the song - in fact, right away the audience starts shouting, with lots of screams to "Sit down!" - which the band ignores. Afterwards people in the audience keep shouting at others, "Sit down!" Garcia comments, "There it is, the famous dichotomy, the famous duality - those who like to sit and those who like to stand." Weir adds, "It's better to stand on your head."
Weir introduces his Jesse Fuller song, and the audience gets into Monkey & the Engineer more, clapping along. (This acoustic set is unusual for the month in that Weir gets two songs, this and an acoustic Me & My Uncle.) There's apparently a little sound glitch after that, as Garcia asks, "What's that noise?" Weir says, "Something's buzzing....ah, there it goes, it's gone away."
The rest of the set passes without incident. In this recording, the acoustic instrumentation doesn't come through very well - the guitars are quiet, you can make out the light drumming, but the bass is inaudible. They finish with Uncle John's Band, which the crowd really likes - as they applaud, Garcia announces, "We're gonna bring on the electric Dead."
After the intermission, the electric set starts with the usual plea: "Monitors, please!" They get rolling right off with Easy Wind and a rollicking Cumberland Blues. After Dire Wolf, Garcia says, "Bobby just broke a string." (Some songs may be missing here - the taper had kept the tape rolling so far without the usual pauses, but stops it at a couple points here, perhaps for a tapeflip or battery conservation, or perhaps noticing that the tape supply was running low! Other tapers this year were also not prepared for a show going two hours or more...)
Dark Star fades into being. Garcia comes in after the intro with a sigh of feedback. The opening jam starts out deliberately paced, but steadily becomes more energetic. Garcia really steps out, his playing narcotic and droney - the entranced audience claps as he starts the verse! Some quick strumming drops suddenly into a quiet space. Church bells toll, windchimes rustle - we enter a mysterious, enchanting dreamland - the atmosphere thickens with Garcia's violin-like swells, tense pauses, lingering feedback notes. The audience is silent. Finally, Garcia starts up a swirling Sputnik jam that takes the band back to musical ground. Lesh & Weir fall into the Feelin' Groovy riff, and the mood becomes lighter. But after a couple passes, they switch to the Tighten Up chords, and really dig in here, developing a long dynamic jam with a very lyrical Garcia lead. Once this ends, they pause, searching for a new theme - Garcia starts playing chords, a sign that he's very excited. The chordal riffing heads into ANOTHER Feelin' Groovy jam - they're in no hurry to get back to the verse, the music is carrying the band now. The jam explodes, and Garcia rips into the Dark Star riff with incendiary soloing as hot as anything you'll hear from 1970. The crowd cheers as they abruptly settle back into the verse.
The transition inevitably goes into a charged St Stephen, to the crowd's great delight. (Note the bang after "another man spills" - Pigpen firing a pistol!) Though 1970 Stephens usually cue up Not Fade Away, tonight they segue into the Eleven for the last time. This tune had been dropped since 2/14/70, so it's like the return of an old friend - like 1969 again as they swerve headlong around the corners of the jam. At the point where you'd expect them to segue into Lovelight or Death Don't, instead they stop for a short drum solo of the kind that starts Good Lovin'. Out of this they break into a fast latin-style rhythmic jam, reminiscent of the 4/15 mystery jam (it's kind of like Tighten Up or a proto-Eyes jam). Alas, with a few dying warbles, the tape cuts off after only two minutes! They may have gone into Good Lovin' from there. (The newspaper reviewer suggests they reprised St Stephen before Good Lovin', but by that point he was so excited he could hardly tell what he was hearing...)
The taper managed to get a little bit more life out of his machine, and we get a five-minute fragment of Man's World with a dazzling Garcia solo (sounding just like the previous jam) - but just as it reaches the song's end, the tape warbles and runs out again!
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-04-24.aud.hanno.19531.sbeok.shnf
Here's a post with more information about the shows on the 24th and 25th, settling the date of our tape as 4/25:
http://jgmf.blogspot.com/2010/05/gd-at-mammoth-gardens-denver-co-april.html
And here's part of the newspaper review -
"Grateful Dead Stuns Crowd," by Mike DeLong - Colorado Springs Sun, April 30, 1970:
"The Grateful Dead produce music on a level that most groups don't even know exist. The songs themselves are only frameworks, only foundations on which the Dead build their dazzling multi-layered skyscrapers of sound. Garcia's intricate lead notes darting in and out of the melody, Weir's rhythm abruptly becoming a second lead, the two drummers sustaining a solid beat while weaving other percussion patterns: a breath-taking explosion of unified talent....
The first part of their set showed a completely new side of the band. Garcia and Weir, armed with acoustic guitars and accompanied by the bass and a drummer, did a series of folk-styled songs with a country flavor which were often catchy and (God forbid) commercial-sounding... The idea of a million-selling Grateful Dead single is amusing as well as staggering.
The electric guitars were brought out after a full hour of unamplification. The band moved into a couple of unfamiliar numbers that had all their trademarks: brilliant solos by Garcia; rich, full textures of sound backing him; beautiful high harmonies.
Approximately 90 minutes into their set, they began "Dark Star," a complex instrumental structure that included a segment that could only be described as experimental electronic. This probably has its roots in the Dead's earlier feedback experiments, but they have extended the idea into even more exotic territory. "Dark Star" evolved effortlessly into an exuberant, joyful "St. Stephen" that, as usual, served as springboard for a fantastic musical interplay - Garcia soaring, really excited for the first time. Lesh throbbing, twisting notes out with obvious huge pleasure. Weir erupting from his rhythm pattern to scorch the air with his own lead. The band built to an excruciating climax and then caught its breath to build to another, and another wave after wave, crescendo after crescendo, finally floating down to catch the "St. Stephen" melody again, which dissolved incredibly enough into "Good Lovin'"...
Abruptly, the song was James Brown's "It's A Man's World", which metamorphosed back into the "St. Stephen" instrumental. A final climax shattered the already gaping crowd. The biggest surprise was that the song was over - one had the feeling that the entire universe consisted of this perpetual motion machine known as Grateful Dead music. It had lasted 80 minutes, and it seemed like 5. Over an hour and 20 minutes, nonstop, and not once was it even slightly boring. The Dead left the stage, and their subjects screamed and stomped for at least 10 minutes for them to return. Wisely, they did not; after that devastating medley, anything else would have been painfully anticlimactic.
The Grateful Dead are terrifyingly good. They are an overwhelming, almost mystical experience."
4/26/70
The Dead then played an outdoor festival in Wisconsin, one of their most fabled lost shows. They opened with Lovelight and the Other One, and ended up playing a five-hour show. Lesh announced at the start of the third set, "We're gonna do a sunset raga," before launching into Dark Star. Considering the timeframe, this must have been one of the best shows of the year - unfortunately, the tapes were lost, and not a note survives, only a few hazy memories.
There's a post with more details here -
http://lostlivedead.blogspot.com/2009/12/sound-storm-york-farm-poynette-wi-april.html
There's also an article on this festival in the spring 2010 issue of the Wisconsin Magazine of History - however, only a teaser is online: http://www.wisconsinhistory.org/whi/feature/soundstorm/
May 31, 2010
April 23, 2010
Buffalo 3/17/70
This is an attempt to compile all the different reviews of this lost show into one single account...
The concert (called the Philharmonic Rock Marathon) started at 7, in Kleinhans Music Hall. Seats cost $4.50. Newspaper reviews cited attendance at 2,200 or 2,300, "a good house." (It was noted, "People came to hear the Grateful Dead," and that they were "highly responsive.")
"Confirmation of the Dead followed an earlier cancellation of the Byrds. The Dead are accepting expenses but waiving their usual huge fee to help the Philharmonic benefit and for the 'privilege and delight of working with Lukas Foss.'"
They were joined by the Road, a local Buffalo group.
INTRO
"The program began with Foss at the piano, playing Bach in the Non-Improvisation with three groups - the Road, members of the orchestra, and the Dead." They were to "surround him with a rhythmic and electronic counterpoint."
"As conductor Foss played his Bach non-improvisation, the Road came in around him with their wall of sound, providing a bit too much rhythm & shout and not enough freeform experimentation. The Dead worked their wave of music more adeptly around this freeform style."
[Foss's "Non-Improvisation" was a 1967 composition for four players (clarinet, violincello, piano & percussion), and was based on the first movement of Bach's concerto for harpsichord in D minor.]
"Road played a set, and then there was a piece by John Cage, which included a lecture by Cage from loudspeakers, and live performers strolling through the concert hall."
"The Road started and they were terrible. A teenybopper band with no soul or interesting music..."
"Lead singer Nick DiStephano has a good voice with the rest of the group harmonizing closely."
"The Road was playing away...and the crowd started to chant "Hit the road, Road!" After a few moments, you couldn't even hear the Road - the MC came up on the stage and shouted at us all to quiet down, the Dead were not ready to play yet and the Road was not done anyway. So we got quiet."
"After a pause, the Philharmonic came on. Silence, then a single gong. Down the aisles came tuxedoed men, each carrying a small triangle, hitting them in unison. Scary & funereal... We waited through the piece, trying to like it or at least escape from it, but then it was over."
[The Cage pieces were Variations II and III.]
THE DEAD
One newspaper review mentions, "the Dead offered some of their best material in their set's limited time." [Probably about an hour.]
"They had to play an abbreviated set...I am only positive about Lovelight... Accompanying the show were laser lights."
"The set wasn't all that long because they were sharing the stage with the Philharmonic and the Road."
"The Dead played on top of a lift platform, which rose when they played and dropped when the symphony played."
"The stage was a hydraulic platform that was down and all you could see was a few red lights from the amps... They started with "Feedback" before the stage slowly rose out of the ground with the band on it running right into the next song. I also remember a laser light show of some type..."
Two other reviewers provide more detail, saying there were four colors - "red, green, blue, and yellow, that swelled and changed with the music. They were trying to tie the different colors to different instruments." "The idea behind the laser-beams is that they are realizations in color & design of the music sounds... A design blossoms in nervous lines that squiggle and dart over walls and ceiling... Soon the agitated patterns were not very interesting. (Circular forms, used during the final part of the program, were quite beautiful to see.)"
"The soundscape of the Grateful Dead is an interesting blend of organ, percussion (drums and resonant gongs) and guitars."
"From the first chord, the room changed completely. Loud, bright electric guitars, two drummers, and soaring, happy music."
"The exact moment the Dead got their sound together physically sent a sublime shock through the hall... It was a happy realization by both the audience and the Dead that the first few amorphous moments of sound-searching had suddenly found a vehicle to ride to inventive heights."
"The Dead uses two drummers to form a 'figure 8' of sound around the guitars and organ. This duo broke from the set rhythm of 'Dark Star' into a drumming contest... Lynn Harbold, Philharmonic percussionist, joined in this number on Hart's drums, doing a fine job."
"I remember clearly a Philharmonic drummer sitting in with Billy, while Mickey played various percussion instruments around the stage."
"Two firecrackers were set off on stage, increasing the excitement."
"They also played St. Stephen... I remember TC throwing a couple of timed firecrackers into the air during the pause in St. Stephen. [It couldn't have been TC.] During Lovelight, Pigpen was singin' "take your hands out of yer pockets... and stop actin' like a fool"."
"Jerry Garcia's lead guitar had some really sharp and sweet phrases. He is very contented looking [with] his bushy beard and smile... Like a scholar reading his notes, Lesh in wire-rimmed glasses sets down perspicacious bass lines. Weir is constantly moving, with flourishes interweaving around the bass and lead guitars. Pigpen, the Dead's organist, brought the clapping crowd to its feet with Lovelight. He is the individualistic loner in denim jacket & cowboy hat."
"When the Dead got warmed up, it seemed the audience would not be content with anything less than having the Dead finish the concert by themselves. Speaker fuzziness spoiled the first number, but after the sound system was improved the group went through several numbers with good effect, including a long performance in which the beat had most of the audience clapping and dancing."
"Soon there was a sea of heads and patrons, all clapping and dancing... It was a night where I felt my consciousness lifted above the audience. The Dead were the conduit, but they and the audience were being pulled by the music which came from elsewhere. (Port Chester 1971 was another evening where we would hear it, they would play it, and we would hear something new which they would then play.) Lovelight ended with a bang and we all looked around, amazed at what had just happened.... The lights came on for intermission, and the room had the loud buzz of a good party."
GEOD
"Following intermission Foss led a performance of his "Geod" for orchestra. This entailed the use of four additional conductors, and laser-beam light projections created by Sonovision... The music of "Geod" requires five conductors to give cues... Most of the music is very quiet, familiar tunes played against a soft curtain of sustained tones, with snippets of wind phrases for gentle agitation... Sounds included gentle singing from the orchestra, organ, harmonica, percussion & mandolin. The audience joined in clapping at once point, and by the end of the performance was making knocking, popping mouth sounds that seemed to fit quite well."
THE JAM
"Two conductors stood back to back, dividing the orchestra - on one half stood Jan Williams with the Road, and on the other Lukas Foss and the Dead... The Dead showed more experience... As the groups & orchestras jammed, the atmosphere was intensified with a laser-beam light show. Rapid patterns and curves of pure light chased along the walls in time with the music...."
"The orchestra was split in two sections - the Road was in the front left and the Dead were in the front right. Lukas Foss led them on some orchestral space music, pointing to different sections of musicians to have the music rise & fall. Very experimental and not beatific."
"The program ended with an attempt to merge symphony orchestra & rock bands in an improvised jam. It didn't work very well. Jan Williams & Foss issued spoken directions ("Attention: attack... Gliss downward... Vibrato") which made the performance rather unspontaneous. Only when a rock band came alive did the jam work."
(McNally) "The Dead, a local rock band, and members of the orchestra played an improvisational piece that involved having the orchestra members stand up, flap their arms, and make strange noises."
"The audience suddenly took the initiative and began making music themselves by imitating the instruments & calls of the musicians."
[This is an interesting detail - possibly it's the same audience participation the other reviewer mentioned in "Geod".]
The deadbase reviewer concludes: "After a while, it was over and the Dead did another set... They sent word that they were too tired for an encore, and everybody got up to go." [Neither newspaper reviewer mentions a second set from the Dead; but they might have left early! The deadlists contributor also suggests there were two Dead sets.]
March 1970
Continuing our trip through 1970...
http://deadessays.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-1970.html
March was a very light month for the Dead, with only a few shows played - fortunately, we have tapes of all but two of them! (The Dead were probably using the weeks off in the studio to finish the Workingman's Dead album.)
Since Bear couldn't leave California, you might expect that there would be no SBD tapes from the band's shows elsewhere. But actually, there are quite a few from this period - from 2/23, 3/8, 3/20, 3/24, and 4/3/70 - as well as the missing shows and AUD tapes. It's possible these were 'outside' taping jobs done by people patching into the SBD - but given that there are almost no such tapes from the summer & fall of 1970, I think it's more likely that the band was still taping their own shows as usual (as we know they did in the May tour), and some tape holocaust or mass theft happened to the early 1970 reels.
(More speculation here:
http://deadessays.blogspot.com/2009/08/strange-case-of-1970.html )
We'll start with the three-day Family Dog run (with Commander Cody) at the end of February. These are pretty mellow shows, and it's notable that they ignore the Dark Star>Stephen>Eleven medley in each show.
2/27/70
This is a decent show that never quite takes off. (There are a few monitor complaints between songs.)
The show's first highlight comes with a long Dancin' in the Streets - the jam is slow, steamy, laid-back. Garcia drops out for a while midway (a broken string?), so Weir and Lesh carry the jam. It finally heats up near the end, as Garcia gets going and they wrap up the jam with big, clanging chords. Weir says afterwards, "Someone who's in charge ought to open the door so we can get a little fresh air in here."
They continue with a very hot Easy Wind, and after cooling things down with a slow Black Peter, they go right into Good Lovin'. The Good Lovin's this month are not as extended as they would soon become - the jams tend to be not much longer than the drum solos - here it's mostly an Other One-style duet between Lesh and Garcia, with Weir jabbing in rhythmic stabs, that doesn't really get going. The China>Rider>High Time is standard, but Hard to Handle rocks out with a long, ambling Garcia solo. (Pigpen complains, "The monitors over here are not working. That means I can't hear nothing.")
They keep up the pace with Casey Jones and a nice Cumberland. Then it's time for the finish as the drums & bass beat out the intro to Not Fade Away - a rather short, restrained version, as Garcia takes it into Lovelight. Lovelight starts out snappy, but can't keep up the momentum for a half-hour and loses steam midway...there's a long percussion interlude, where Pigpen slips into a verse of Two Trains Running; and after a brief space they start the finale.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd1970-02-27.sbd.miller.28833.sbeok.flac16
2/28/70
The tape cuts in during Lovelight, an unusual opening song for 1970 - as if in a flashback to mid-1969, it segues smoothly into Me & My Uncle while Pigpen's still singing his "all I need" rap. (Other examples of this were on 4/27/69 and 6/14/69.)
After Cumberland Blues, Garcia announces, "We're gonna take everybody back about sixty billion notches and play some acoustic guitars for a little spell, if it's all the same to you." Weir starts the acoustic set with a long introduction to Jesse Fuller, until an impatient Garcia interrupts him. They play three quiet songs, but seem to have some trouble - Garcia complains to Weir after Black Peter. Weir replies, "Yeah, I can't get this in tune either...can't hear what I'm playing." Garcia says to everyone, "OK, it's back to the electric world, so everybody can get back up again."
They give us a standard Garcia-led sequence of China>Rider>High Time>Dire Wolf. (China>Riders of this time aren't very satisfying for me since Garcia hardly plays in the bridge jam - once Weir finishes his solo, it's straight into Rider.) Then it's time for some Pigpen with a bouncy Good Lovin' and Big Boss Man. (Afterwards, someone requests Not Fade Away - Garcia says, "We'll get to it." This seems to have been his standard reply to requests.)
The "big jam" part of the show starts with a sleepy Alligator. A long drums winds its way to the Other One beat, and the band slips quietly into the Other One. The jam gradually heats up, but never takes off - at the end, they go into Mason's Children. This would be the last Mason's - it's a short one, as the second solo slides into Caution for a bit - but they quickly change direction and head back into the Lovelight finale instead, which ends the show. (This is nowhere near as intense as the similar 2/14/70 medley - though that may be an unfair comparison! But the Dead's Family Dog shows do tend to be pretty low-key in general.)
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-02-28.sbd.cotsman.9377.sbeok.shnf
3/1/70
This is perhaps the best show of the run. The SBD from this night is incomplete; fortunately there was an intrepid taper onhand (Harry Ely) to capture most of the show in a pretty good-sounding (though bassy) tape. (He was also the one who taped 12/5/69.) His AUD tape isn't complete on the Archive, but just used to patch the beginning and end of the show.
As the AUD tape starts, Weir is playing the New Speedway Boogie shuffle while the rest of the band sets up. (They'd dropped New Speedway since December, and wouldn't pick it up again til May.) As deadlists says, "This tape cuts in during the 'New Speedway Boogie Jam,' which sounds like Bobby playing the comp to this song over & over while the audience claps along and the equipment crew tries to get the rest of the band up & running. After 4:15 this cuts to another couple minutes of tuning, soundcheck activity and bitching about the sound system." The audience laughs and claps, quite entertained by something onstage despite the long adjustments and tuning. As the band tries to get rid of the feedback, Weir complains about getting shocked by the mics: "You people don't know what it's like...you step up to the microphone, and the microphone greets you with a big blue spark..." (Meanwhile the others hoot loudly into the mics in a strange sonic exorcism.)
After the Casey Jones intro, they give us a rare, somewhat sloppy Big Boy Pete (only four known versions from this period), which is where the SBD cuts in - then they get down to business with Morning Dew.
The Other One is much more energized than the night before. They charge into it, though dogged by feedback, and the jam peaks, ebbs, and climbs again - it rolls into a strong, thunderous Cryptical reprise which quiets down and ends with chiming harmonics that slide into Black Peter. Then they change the pace with a raucous Beat It On Down the Line.
The following songs are standard, not too notable - there's a smoky King Bee - a nice solo in Cumberland - a typically short Good Lovin' and China>Rider. The SBD ends with a slow Uncle John's Band.
From the AUD, the Dancin' in the Streets is a highlight of the show, featuring the first time the Tighten Up jam was played in Dancin'. (The sound quality is a bit murky, though.) Our tape ends with another rarity, Baby Blue (last played on 12/5/69, there are only three versions from 1970) - here the AUD tape cuts off.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-01.sbd.hanno.4641.sbefail.shnf (SBD+AUD)
3/7/70
This is a very hot show, which would be more acclaimed if it were complete, or if an SBD existed. The AUD tape we have has pretty good sound, fairly boomy, though it has some bad cuts, constant mic clunks & tape warbles, and some other glitches. Unfortunately, the taper was in the middle of a bunch of talkers, who are very distracting (especially in the quiet songs)...
Our tape starts with a guy shouting, "Get it on!" - the band gets it on with a slow, heartfelt Black Peter, while folks in the audience have a conversation. (It would be surprising if this were the first song of the show!) After another China>Rider>High Time, the tape cuts off in Dire Wolf, and drops us in the middle of an awesome Not Fade Away. Even though only five minutes of it are left, they're incendiary.
This gives way to a drum solo...generally I'm not noting the drum solos since the ones from this time aren't very exciting - sometimes they just seem to putter around aimlessly. But it's a different experience on this AUD tape: the audience loves the drums, and cheers them on, making it more engaging. Out of drums comes Good Lovin', which goes right into a hot jam - but they quickly sputter out for some reason, and head into a short but very hot Other One. This burns its way to a Not Fade Away reprise, and from there they fly into Lovelight, the crowd shrieking. This is a good Lovelight - again, the AUD tape definitely enhances the experience, as the excited audience claps and screams all the way through. One guy in the crowd even recites the "get your hands out of your pockets" speech before Pigpen does! The tape cuts off in the finale, with perhaps a few minutes left to go.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-07.aud.hanno.6156.sbeok.shnf
3/8/70
Our tape cuts in during the Cold Rain & Snow solo - things immediately hit a snag once the song ends and Weir announces, "We gotta do an equipment change-around, so I'm gonna take this opportunity to tell y'all a story...." The dreaded yellow dog story follows - Garcia loses no time in starting China Cat as soon as Weir finishes! After the usual China>Rider>High Time, Garcia makes a public service announcement: "Jennifer Riley, you're supposed to call your mother for an emergency."
Pigpen tests the mike before Hard to Handle - "Seems to work...you folks seem to be going around." He's referring to the revolving stage the band was on - Weir comments: "Hey, this is a miserable situation...on account of the fact that we can't really get to know you out there..."
Hard to Handle, though brief, is the highpoint of the show. Then Garcia says, "We're gonna bring out some acoustical instruments, play some acoustical music here for a little while, then we're gonna come back with some electric stuff, if it's all the same to you."
There's some banter while they're setting up, including this exchange:
Garcia: "Everybody who's breathing in here, we just had a word from the breathing marshal." [applause]
Weir: "He said it ought to be against the law, breathing, cause it's so..."
Garcia: "Obscene somehow."
Weir: "It just seems wrong."
Garcia: "I don't know what it is."
(I can't make out all of it - there's lots of band chatter between songs that's almost audible.)
Finally Weir gets around to introducing the set as they adjust the mikes: "We're gonna regale your jaded ears with a song that was written by a guy who's a one-man band, and quite a monument to one-man banditry."
Later in the set, Me & My Uncle and Black Peter are played by Weir on acoustic and Garcia on electric, an interesting combination they hardly ever tried in these early acoustic sets, but it hints at the acoustic/electric blends they'd start doing in May.
Pigpen comes out for Katie Mae: "Here I am, stuck once again. Before I do anything, I want this thing to start turning around.... Can you hear this guitar?"
Disaster strikes when a guest comes onstage, inspired by Pigpen's blues (and apparently with Pig's blessing), and starts improvising bluesy lyrics while Pig keeps playing acoustic. Nobody seems to mind, the crowd claps along, and he tries to get them to sing along as he sings, "Wake me, shake me, baby." He's an atrocious singer (it really puts Pigpen in perspective), but like Pigpen, he urges everyone to stand up: "Come on, get up...there's still people sitting down!" The rest of the band gradually joins in this blues improv, and the mystery singer continues his horrible screeching. Finally, it ends, and the band starts Not Fade Away - unfortunately, the guest stays onstage and sings along - not only that, but he's joined by some awful, tuneless harmonica bleating. It sounds like a hot NFA behind them, as the band completely ignores the disruption. By Lovelight it's mostly just the band again, except for some more dreadful harmonica - mercifully, this cuts off. In the end, this is a show to be avoided.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-08.sbd.9195.sbeok.shnf
3/17/70
This show is famous for being unavailable, and perhaps nonexistent. Many have doubted that it was played; but I think there are enough reviews and memories to show it did happen. There's actually quite a bit of information about this show.
McNally mentions it in his book: "On St Patrick's Day the band played a benefit for the Buffalo Philharmonic, which was directed by Phil's acquaintance, a colleague of Luciano Berio's, Lukas Foss. The Dead, a local rock band, and members of the orchestra played an improvisational piece that involved having the orchestra members stand up, flap their arms, and make strange noises." (This seems to be the kind of tall tale that would only come from a band member....)
Lesh also has a brief, indirect mention in his book: sometime in '62, he's talking about Luciano Berio & the Ojai Festival - "The highlight for me was an outdoor performance of Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 25, conducted by Berio and played by Lucas Foss (who later would invite the Dead to perform improvisations with his orchestra, the Buffalo Philharmonic)."
It's unclear whether the Dead played one or two sets, but they were scheduled for two. Their show included Dark Star>drums, with percussionist Lynn Harbold joining them during drums, and apparently ended with Lovelight. The orchestra played Foss's composition "Geod", and John Cage pieces, accompanied by a primitive laser-light show. Foss also played on piano a Bach concerto, to which the Dead and local band the Road added freeform electronic noise. Both bands then played in a kind of organized improvisation with the orchestra, directed by Foss.
A few memories from audience members:
One describes a three set show, with material from Live Dead and Aoxomoxoa in the first two sets (Saint Stephen and Dark Star in the first) and an improvisation with the orchestra in the third, which included a passage of "call and response". He says that during this portion of the show the Dead played on top of a lift platform, which rose when they played and dropped when the symphony played. The symphony played a program featuring the work of John Cage "complete with laser-light show."
Another: "They also played St. Stephen. The set wasn't all that long because they were sharing the stage with the Philharmonic and [the band] Yellow Brick Road (which later became just The Road). I remember TC throwing a couple of timed firecrackers into the air during the pause in St. Stephen. During Lovelight, Pigpen was singin' "take your hands out of yer pockets... and stop actin' like a fool"."
And another witness remembers the audience trying to boo opening band The Road offstage! "The stage was a hydraulic platform that was down and all you could see was a few red lights from the amps... They started with "Feedback" before the stage slowly rose out of the ground with the band on it running right into the next song. I also remember a laser light show of some type, just a green squiggly line, moving to the music at some point in the concert."
This website has two newspaper reviews and a long deadbase review of the show, which provide a lot more detail:
http://www.theblackdog.org/gd-bpo/
3/20/70
This was the Dead's first evening at the Capitol Theater in Port Chester (with Catfish opening). The early show is sadly not available, though it should be - Ken Lee was presumably taping, and the second show was taped in both SBD and AUD. (Perhaps the early show will surface someday. The old tape with this label is now thought to be the 6-24-70 early show.)
The late show exists in a buzzy mono SBD. Ken Lee's AUD is only available as a patch at the start - it would be nice to have the complete AUD, since it is excellent quality. Aside from someone drumming on the balcony railing, it sounds as good as the next night's tapes, and the power of the band and excitement of the audience really come through (which you don't really get on the SBD). Even a 'little' song like Me & My Uncle shines; so if the full AUD ever comes out, we can hear the show in a new light.
The AUD tape catches the opening songs, the SBD tape not coming in until the middle of Know You Rider. The band is in a good mood - there's lots of laughter and inaudible chatter between songs, and Garcia even jokes with the audience, introducing Uncle as "a little spring song". From Casey Jones on, the rowdy Capitol crowd shouts at the band, full of song requests, any random song. (One forlorn soul even requests Rosemary!) Before Hard to Handle, Garcia says, "This isn't New York City. Shit. It's cool, we're not going anywhere." Then he mocks Weir: "White Rabbit, goddammit!"
After an unremarkable China>Rider, the show continues with a ramshackle Hard to Handle - Garcia breaks a string, so Weir has to carry the solo himself. Pigpen says to the crowd afterward, "Hey, I'm missing somebody by the name of Annette, where is she? I want to see her now."
Then it's time for the acoustic set -
Weir: "We're gonna waste some more time."
Garcia: "We're gonna slow you down. I can see things are getting out of hand, as usual. Oh man, that was a long time ago. [calls for Alligator] Relax, relax, we'll do that."
Weir: "We're gonna waste a bunch of time and re-set up and slow you all down. You'll hate it and we'll love it, but we got lots of time."
They start the acoustic set with three 1970 debuts in a row - the first Deep Elem Blues and Don't Ease Me In since 1966, and the first-ever live Friend of the Devil. (This song has some different lyrics, also sung the next night - Hunter had written it for the New Riders back in '69, but Garcia liked it enough to snatch it for the Dead.) A tape cut wipes out the end of Black Peter and most of Uncle John's Band. Pigpen comes back out for Katie Mae, worrying, "I might make a lot of mistakes..."
The electric set resumes with Good Lovin', but after a brief drums they fall into the Not Fade Away beat; Weir starts singing it, and they detour for a short throwaway version of NFA. The drums continue, and they go back into Good Lovin' with hardly any jamming. They make up for it by following with a sharp Viola Lee Blues, which was quite a rarity by then. (It's the first we have since 4/26/69, though I suspect they'd played others since then.) Pigpen is playing with them on organ - the jam quickly picks up speed and hurtles into an explosive, crackling meltdown. The re-entry jam into the last verse is relaxed, and there's a nice feedback ending. Then they calm things down with a wispy High Time, before embarking on the show-closing Lovelight.
Pigpen takes his usual rap, with advice to the lonely souls in the crowd: "The first thing you got to do is get your hands out of your pockets, and play with something that's better than that. Pocket pool is a long time ago, man, ain't no way to do. So what you got to do now, fellows, you find yourself standing next to a young lady, turn over to your side - 'excuse me ma'am, my name is so and so, what's yours?' And while you're doing that, you reach in her pocketbook, take a look at her wallet, and find out if she's 18. After you get all that business straight, all you got to do is find a place to go. And if you can do that, good luck!"
After Lovelight, the crowd is all worked-up and demands more. The announcer gasps, "Far-out...outrageous evening...unreal... I don't know - I think they're kind of tired - I don't think they have the energy to do another one - one second, we'll find out... Get a light over here - we just spoke to them, they did work very very hard for all of us, they're very very exhausted, they'll be here tomorrow night, come back tomorrow." The band starts singing We Bid You Goodnight to soothe the crowd's disappointment.
After that's over, new road-manager Sam Cutler has an announcement: "There's a chick in the audience called Annette - Pigpen wants to see you at the back of the stage. If anybody else is pretty, you can come too."
No doubt, a night of debauchery ensued....
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-20.sbd.late.hamilton.14287.sbeok.shnf
By the way, this was Blair Jackson's first Dead show - he wrote an essay describing his experience.
The Capitol "was about one-third full, in a place that only seated about 2000 to begin with. Because the word wasn't out about the Capitol yet, a lot of people probably didn't even know about the shows. By the next time they played the Capitol, the place was packed for every show.... The acoustics were tremendous - better even than the Fillmore East - and every seat in the place was great.... The first act that night was an annoying blues-rock band called Catfish....nobody seemed to like them very much, and everyone got fed up with Catfish's constant pleas for us to get out of our seats and boogie.... When the Dead hit the stage, everyone in the place leaped to their feet and started dancing. (At most other rock shows, everyone sat in their seats until the last song...even at the Fillmore West, most people sat on the ground or stood immobile in front of the stage.) So a few seconds into the first Dead song, I notice that half the people in the small crowd are flailing.... A very attractive girl who'd been dancing wildly in the front row suddenly took off all her clothes, jumped onstage and started dancing wildly next to Garcia, who looked amused.... After half a minute or so, a member of the Dead's road crew carried her offstage... [In Viola Lee] the crescendo was so loud and long and intense I thought my brain was dissolving. They hit a peak that seemed to go on forever; it was easily the weirdest music I'd ever heard.... The Dead wrapped things up with Lovelight...Pigpen got everyone to go absolutely crazy. He had us screamin' and hollerin' and carryin' on. He even got the few Deadheads who weren't dancing to get up and join the fun... A different naked girl danced in the aisle next to us...until an usher eventually asked her to put on some clothes."
3/21/70
We have both shows from Ken Lee's excellent AUD tapes - the sound is clear, though the early-show tape has some channel wobble which can be distracting.
The band's playing sparkles, and they pull out a few rarities for this show. They start the show with a slinky Walkin' the Dog. (This is the first known live version, aside from a 1966 demo - we have just one other version this year, from 11/9/70.)
Within a couple songs the audience is already hollering non-stop at the band between songs, so naturally Garcia decides to give them a slow, chilly Death Don't Have No Mercy. (Death had become somewhat rare, last played on 1/16/70 - this would be the last version until 1989.) Death quiets down the audience for a while, but they soon revive with noisy song requests.
So Weir gives a speech: "While you're shouting out requests, I want you to bear in mind...when we made up the songs we made up no names for the songs, and we had a friend of ours make up names for the songs and submit 'em to the president of the record company to put on the album, and we never even learned the names to all our songs. So you're shouting a bunch of meaningless words to us, and I swear it's true..." This doesn't satisfy the crowd, and they impatiently slow-clap...
Pigpen appears for a brisk Good Lovin', in which the jam ends all too soon, and an excellent Big Boss Man. After this there's a long pause while the band deliberates, and the audience calls for Alligator and Lovelight. Weir responds, "Boy, are you ever going to like this," as the band starts a slow, mellow He Was A Friend of Mine. (This was another uncommon song, last played on 12/12/69 - this would be its last performance.) The crowd takes it well, and Garcia's second solo is a spellbinding wonder.
At end they barely pause before blasting into Viola Lee - a surprising choice considering they'd done it the night before. The jam starts almost introspectively - prolonged longer than on the 20th - then speeds like a runaway train into a beautiful chaotic meltdown. Coming back to the groove, they fall naturally into a loose Seven jam, which was quite rare. (They'd hinted at it during the 4/26/69 Viola Lee, of which Lesh says, "We later expanded and used this riff extensively - unfortunately, none of those performances seem to have survived." The one exception seems to be the full-blown 9/29/69 version.) On top of the Seven, Lesh slips the Cumberland riff, and the others fall in. Under the circumstances this Cumberland is quite relaxed, and not very fiery. It closes the show, much to the crowd's disappointment.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-21.early.lee.pcrp.20184.sbeok.shnf (early show)
The late show also finds the band much more laid-back than their hyper audience - Garcia's playing is very calm and deliberate in the jams. After a standard Casey Jones opener, the show gets exciting right away with an excellent Dancin' in the Streets. The jam is extremely graceful, with Lesh and Garcia playing off each other beautifully - again they easily slip into a stomping Tighten Up jam, then subside into a quiet, reflective passage as the audience claps the beat - then Garcia winds up the tension for a grand re-entry into the verse. After this, people in the crowd ask for St Stephen, but the band heads into Easy Wind (Pigpen seems to be caught unprepared, as he starts out singing the wrong verse). This cuts at the end, but the tape resumes as the band gets ready for the acoustic set.
The audience is quite noisy, shouting at the band and at each other. Weir says, "You're too kind... Let's hear some insults - why doesn't everybody turn to their neighbor and insult him as worst as you possibly can." The crowd obliges by hollering even louder, prompting Garcia to ask, "Take it easy out there, you unruly pigs."
The acoustic set is somewhat marred by audience noise - in fact, you can hear the taper keep going "shhh!" to clappers throughout the set. On top of that, the microphones were on the balcony railing, and people were tapping time on the railing, especially in the quiet parts. Since this was a seated venue, some of the crowd seems to have been disturbed by all the dancers, and lots of shouting is directed at them. During the Friend of the Devil intro, someone yells "Sit down!" and Garcia mutters, "Shut the fuck up." (But in Deep Elem we still get cries of "Sit down!")
Surprisingly, the band takes a request - after Black Peter, someone requests Wake Up Little Susie, and Garcia replies, "Yeah, we'll try that one." After Uncle John, Weir asks the crowd, "You guys wanna hear Pigpen? (cheers) Well let him know about it! (cheers) I don't think he hears you, maybe you ought to shout a little louder! (cheers) Here he is now folks, Pigpen!" Pigpen comes on for his one song to much acclaim: "You probably heard this one last night because it's the only one I know... Yeah, you can't hear the mistakes unless you shut up." He gives us a very nice Katie Mae.
The acoustic set over, people shout for St Stephen, the Other One, etc, and applaud and holler at each other, while the Dead tease Cosmic Charlie endlessly. Charlie is smooth and standard (not the 3/1/69-type blowout you'd expect); once it comes to a stop, there's lots more random yelling.
Finally the band obliges with "the hits" - St Stephen is received rapturously, and as usual segues into a fine Not Fade Away. Garcia spins out melodic riffs, circling around the rhythm - he takes the band back to the Stephen riff, then into an unexpected China Cat jam. Unusually, NFA comes to a stop, and the Dead take a while to figure out the next tune, while Weir riffs around.
Next up is a mighty Midnight Hour - this one has a hypnotic vibe, as the audience claps all the way through. Once Pigpen stops rapping, Garcia lets loose the sweetest, most delicate solo imaginable - then Pigpen raps some more, similar to a Good Lovin' rap of a year later ("she calls me daddy!"), while Garcia darts in little fills around him. Suddenly they switch to the Lovelight finale in a unique segue, and the audience goes into hysterics.
The announcer exclaims, "Incredible set by the Grateful Dead!" (Crowd: "More!") "Stand by..." (Crowd chants, "More, more!") Pigpen comes out and says brusquely, "All right you guys, it's your show, see you later," and again the Dead close with We Bid You Goodnight.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd1970-03-21.late.aud.lee.pcrp.21779.shnf (complete late show - avoid the other Archive copy)
3/24/70
Periodically the band would play isolated shows in distant Florida - 12/29/68, 12/28/69, the May '69 Big Rock Pow Wow shows - and they tended to play very enthusiastically there. This is a fast-paced show - as the Compendium says, "The Dead are given only a ninety-minute set to work their magic. They come out high-spirited and really go for it... There's a feeling of haste...as they quickly cram in their 'hits' to beat the clock."
(Deadlists shows a ticket for different dates, which raises a mystery, but for now I'll accept this show as the 24th. This tape is also unusual for the month in being in wide stereo - the other SBDs we've heard have mostly been in mono.)
Our tape cuts in during a rushed Morning Dew. Weir says, "At the risk of being repetitious, we're gonna do another song in the same key." (This turns out to be Mama Tried.)
Good Lovin' is the best of the month - it has a short drum solo, then Garcia jams with the drums for a while (like an Alligator) before the others come back. Weir & Lesh take over the jam while Garcia sits out (changing a string?) - this part is unique, Weir really churns away on rhythm; then Garcia comes back in a torrent - after teasing the riff a while, they build up to a Hard to Handle-style chordal climax. After a few more songs (including a rousing electric Don't Ease Me In), it's time for the big medley.
This Dark Star is notable for being entirely instrumental - a tapecut wipes out the first verse, and the band bails out before the second verse. It's also a fast, streamlined version (kind of '68ish in that way), making it easy to hear how the band work together in the jam. The intro jam is swift and focused - it soon cuts off, and the tape picks up again deep in the post-verse space. Things don't sound too scary - the band throws out a few hints of melody - a jam rapidly materializes - and soon the music is flying in streams of ecstasy. They drop in a quick Feelin' Groovy jam - but Garcia keeps pushing onward, his guitar lines turning into molten gold, cascading through the Dark Star riff, then pausing & trying out a new jam. For a moment before the end it reminds me of the end of that 3/21/72 Star, til Garcia sounds like he's heading for a Sputnik jam. But Lesh is in a hurry to move on, and before they can return to the verse, he starts pounding out the Other One riff.
This is a very fast version, they speed right through it - Garcia jumps into a quick St Stephen - the drums beat out an intro to a chunky NFA without much jamming - and they soon hop over into a customary Lovelight, with Pigpen working his usual rap. Lovelight would seem like the natural closer, but Weir abruptly takes it into Me & My Uncle (as on 2/28), and the show ends there. Garcia says, "Our time's up, see you later."
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-24.sbd.miller.32054.sbeok.flacf
http://deadessays.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-1970.html
March was a very light month for the Dead, with only a few shows played - fortunately, we have tapes of all but two of them! (The Dead were probably using the weeks off in the studio to finish the Workingman's Dead album.)
Since Bear couldn't leave California, you might expect that there would be no SBD tapes from the band's shows elsewhere. But actually, there are quite a few from this period - from 2/23, 3/8, 3/20, 3/24, and 4/3/70 - as well as the missing shows and AUD tapes. It's possible these were 'outside' taping jobs done by people patching into the SBD - but given that there are almost no such tapes from the summer & fall of 1970, I think it's more likely that the band was still taping their own shows as usual (as we know they did in the May tour), and some tape holocaust or mass theft happened to the early 1970 reels.
(More speculation here:
http://deadessays.blogspot.com/2009/08/strange-case-of-1970.html )
We'll start with the three-day Family Dog run (with Commander Cody) at the end of February. These are pretty mellow shows, and it's notable that they ignore the Dark Star>Stephen>Eleven medley in each show.
2/27/70
This is a decent show that never quite takes off. (There are a few monitor complaints between songs.)
The show's first highlight comes with a long Dancin' in the Streets - the jam is slow, steamy, laid-back. Garcia drops out for a while midway (a broken string?), so Weir and Lesh carry the jam. It finally heats up near the end, as Garcia gets going and they wrap up the jam with big, clanging chords. Weir says afterwards, "Someone who's in charge ought to open the door so we can get a little fresh air in here."
They continue with a very hot Easy Wind, and after cooling things down with a slow Black Peter, they go right into Good Lovin'. The Good Lovin's this month are not as extended as they would soon become - the jams tend to be not much longer than the drum solos - here it's mostly an Other One-style duet between Lesh and Garcia, with Weir jabbing in rhythmic stabs, that doesn't really get going. The China>Rider>High Time is standard, but Hard to Handle rocks out with a long, ambling Garcia solo. (Pigpen complains, "The monitors over here are not working. That means I can't hear nothing.")
They keep up the pace with Casey Jones and a nice Cumberland. Then it's time for the finish as the drums & bass beat out the intro to Not Fade Away - a rather short, restrained version, as Garcia takes it into Lovelight. Lovelight starts out snappy, but can't keep up the momentum for a half-hour and loses steam midway...there's a long percussion interlude, where Pigpen slips into a verse of Two Trains Running; and after a brief space they start the finale.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd1970-02-27.sbd.miller.28833.sbeok.flac16
2/28/70
The tape cuts in during Lovelight, an unusual opening song for 1970 - as if in a flashback to mid-1969, it segues smoothly into Me & My Uncle while Pigpen's still singing his "all I need" rap. (Other examples of this were on 4/27/69 and 6/14/69.)
After Cumberland Blues, Garcia announces, "We're gonna take everybody back about sixty billion notches and play some acoustic guitars for a little spell, if it's all the same to you." Weir starts the acoustic set with a long introduction to Jesse Fuller, until an impatient Garcia interrupts him. They play three quiet songs, but seem to have some trouble - Garcia complains to Weir after Black Peter. Weir replies, "Yeah, I can't get this in tune either...can't hear what I'm playing." Garcia says to everyone, "OK, it's back to the electric world, so everybody can get back up again."
They give us a standard Garcia-led sequence of China>Rider>High Time>Dire Wolf. (China>Riders of this time aren't very satisfying for me since Garcia hardly plays in the bridge jam - once Weir finishes his solo, it's straight into Rider.) Then it's time for some Pigpen with a bouncy Good Lovin' and Big Boss Man. (Afterwards, someone requests Not Fade Away - Garcia says, "We'll get to it." This seems to have been his standard reply to requests.)
The "big jam" part of the show starts with a sleepy Alligator. A long drums winds its way to the Other One beat, and the band slips quietly into the Other One. The jam gradually heats up, but never takes off - at the end, they go into Mason's Children. This would be the last Mason's - it's a short one, as the second solo slides into Caution for a bit - but they quickly change direction and head back into the Lovelight finale instead, which ends the show. (This is nowhere near as intense as the similar 2/14/70 medley - though that may be an unfair comparison! But the Dead's Family Dog shows do tend to be pretty low-key in general.)
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-02-28.sbd.cotsman.9377.sbeok.shnf
3/1/70
This is perhaps the best show of the run. The SBD from this night is incomplete; fortunately there was an intrepid taper onhand (Harry Ely) to capture most of the show in a pretty good-sounding (though bassy) tape. (He was also the one who taped 12/5/69.) His AUD tape isn't complete on the Archive, but just used to patch the beginning and end of the show.
As the AUD tape starts, Weir is playing the New Speedway Boogie shuffle while the rest of the band sets up. (They'd dropped New Speedway since December, and wouldn't pick it up again til May.) As deadlists says, "This tape cuts in during the 'New Speedway Boogie Jam,' which sounds like Bobby playing the comp to this song over & over while the audience claps along and the equipment crew tries to get the rest of the band up & running. After 4:15 this cuts to another couple minutes of tuning, soundcheck activity and bitching about the sound system." The audience laughs and claps, quite entertained by something onstage despite the long adjustments and tuning. As the band tries to get rid of the feedback, Weir complains about getting shocked by the mics: "You people don't know what it's like...you step up to the microphone, and the microphone greets you with a big blue spark..." (Meanwhile the others hoot loudly into the mics in a strange sonic exorcism.)
After the Casey Jones intro, they give us a rare, somewhat sloppy Big Boy Pete (only four known versions from this period), which is where the SBD cuts in - then they get down to business with Morning Dew.
The Other One is much more energized than the night before. They charge into it, though dogged by feedback, and the jam peaks, ebbs, and climbs again - it rolls into a strong, thunderous Cryptical reprise which quiets down and ends with chiming harmonics that slide into Black Peter. Then they change the pace with a raucous Beat It On Down the Line.
The following songs are standard, not too notable - there's a smoky King Bee - a nice solo in Cumberland - a typically short Good Lovin' and China>Rider. The SBD ends with a slow Uncle John's Band.
From the AUD, the Dancin' in the Streets is a highlight of the show, featuring the first time the Tighten Up jam was played in Dancin'. (The sound quality is a bit murky, though.) Our tape ends with another rarity, Baby Blue (last played on 12/5/69, there are only three versions from 1970) - here the AUD tape cuts off.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-01.sbd.hanno.4641.sbefail.shnf (SBD+AUD)
3/7/70
This is a very hot show, which would be more acclaimed if it were complete, or if an SBD existed. The AUD tape we have has pretty good sound, fairly boomy, though it has some bad cuts, constant mic clunks & tape warbles, and some other glitches. Unfortunately, the taper was in the middle of a bunch of talkers, who are very distracting (especially in the quiet songs)...
Our tape starts with a guy shouting, "Get it on!" - the band gets it on with a slow, heartfelt Black Peter, while folks in the audience have a conversation. (It would be surprising if this were the first song of the show!) After another China>Rider>High Time, the tape cuts off in Dire Wolf, and drops us in the middle of an awesome Not Fade Away. Even though only five minutes of it are left, they're incendiary.
This gives way to a drum solo...generally I'm not noting the drum solos since the ones from this time aren't very exciting - sometimes they just seem to putter around aimlessly. But it's a different experience on this AUD tape: the audience loves the drums, and cheers them on, making it more engaging. Out of drums comes Good Lovin', which goes right into a hot jam - but they quickly sputter out for some reason, and head into a short but very hot Other One. This burns its way to a Not Fade Away reprise, and from there they fly into Lovelight, the crowd shrieking. This is a good Lovelight - again, the AUD tape definitely enhances the experience, as the excited audience claps and screams all the way through. One guy in the crowd even recites the "get your hands out of your pockets" speech before Pigpen does! The tape cuts off in the finale, with perhaps a few minutes left to go.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-07.aud.hanno.6156.sbeok.shnf
3/8/70
Our tape cuts in during the Cold Rain & Snow solo - things immediately hit a snag once the song ends and Weir announces, "We gotta do an equipment change-around, so I'm gonna take this opportunity to tell y'all a story...." The dreaded yellow dog story follows - Garcia loses no time in starting China Cat as soon as Weir finishes! After the usual China>Rider>High Time, Garcia makes a public service announcement: "Jennifer Riley, you're supposed to call your mother for an emergency."
Pigpen tests the mike before Hard to Handle - "Seems to work...you folks seem to be going around." He's referring to the revolving stage the band was on - Weir comments: "Hey, this is a miserable situation...on account of the fact that we can't really get to know you out there..."
Hard to Handle, though brief, is the highpoint of the show. Then Garcia says, "We're gonna bring out some acoustical instruments, play some acoustical music here for a little while, then we're gonna come back with some electric stuff, if it's all the same to you."
There's some banter while they're setting up, including this exchange:
Garcia: "Everybody who's breathing in here, we just had a word from the breathing marshal." [applause]
Weir: "He said it ought to be against the law, breathing, cause it's so..."
Garcia: "Obscene somehow."
Weir: "It just seems wrong."
Garcia: "I don't know what it is."
(I can't make out all of it - there's lots of band chatter between songs that's almost audible.)
Finally Weir gets around to introducing the set as they adjust the mikes: "We're gonna regale your jaded ears with a song that was written by a guy who's a one-man band, and quite a monument to one-man banditry."
Later in the set, Me & My Uncle and Black Peter are played by Weir on acoustic and Garcia on electric, an interesting combination they hardly ever tried in these early acoustic sets, but it hints at the acoustic/electric blends they'd start doing in May.
Pigpen comes out for Katie Mae: "Here I am, stuck once again. Before I do anything, I want this thing to start turning around.... Can you hear this guitar?"
Disaster strikes when a guest comes onstage, inspired by Pigpen's blues (and apparently with Pig's blessing), and starts improvising bluesy lyrics while Pig keeps playing acoustic. Nobody seems to mind, the crowd claps along, and he tries to get them to sing along as he sings, "Wake me, shake me, baby." He's an atrocious singer (it really puts Pigpen in perspective), but like Pigpen, he urges everyone to stand up: "Come on, get up...there's still people sitting down!" The rest of the band gradually joins in this blues improv, and the mystery singer continues his horrible screeching. Finally, it ends, and the band starts Not Fade Away - unfortunately, the guest stays onstage and sings along - not only that, but he's joined by some awful, tuneless harmonica bleating. It sounds like a hot NFA behind them, as the band completely ignores the disruption. By Lovelight it's mostly just the band again, except for some more dreadful harmonica - mercifully, this cuts off. In the end, this is a show to be avoided.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-08.sbd.9195.sbeok.shnf
3/17/70
This show is famous for being unavailable, and perhaps nonexistent. Many have doubted that it was played; but I think there are enough reviews and memories to show it did happen. There's actually quite a bit of information about this show.
McNally mentions it in his book: "On St Patrick's Day the band played a benefit for the Buffalo Philharmonic, which was directed by Phil's acquaintance, a colleague of Luciano Berio's, Lukas Foss. The Dead, a local rock band, and members of the orchestra played an improvisational piece that involved having the orchestra members stand up, flap their arms, and make strange noises." (This seems to be the kind of tall tale that would only come from a band member....)
Lesh also has a brief, indirect mention in his book: sometime in '62, he's talking about Luciano Berio & the Ojai Festival - "The highlight for me was an outdoor performance of Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 25, conducted by Berio and played by Lucas Foss (who later would invite the Dead to perform improvisations with his orchestra, the Buffalo Philharmonic)."
It's unclear whether the Dead played one or two sets, but they were scheduled for two. Their show included Dark Star>drums, with percussionist Lynn Harbold joining them during drums, and apparently ended with Lovelight. The orchestra played Foss's composition "Geod", and John Cage pieces, accompanied by a primitive laser-light show. Foss also played on piano a Bach concerto, to which the Dead and local band the Road added freeform electronic noise. Both bands then played in a kind of organized improvisation with the orchestra, directed by Foss.
A few memories from audience members:
One describes a three set show, with material from Live Dead and Aoxomoxoa in the first two sets (Saint Stephen and Dark Star in the first) and an improvisation with the orchestra in the third, which included a passage of "call and response". He says that during this portion of the show the Dead played on top of a lift platform, which rose when they played and dropped when the symphony played. The symphony played a program featuring the work of John Cage "complete with laser-light show."
Another: "They also played St. Stephen. The set wasn't all that long because they were sharing the stage with the Philharmonic and [the band] Yellow Brick Road (which later became just The Road). I remember TC throwing a couple of timed firecrackers into the air during the pause in St. Stephen. During Lovelight, Pigpen was singin' "take your hands out of yer pockets... and stop actin' like a fool"."
And another witness remembers the audience trying to boo opening band The Road offstage! "The stage was a hydraulic platform that was down and all you could see was a few red lights from the amps... They started with "Feedback" before the stage slowly rose out of the ground with the band on it running right into the next song. I also remember a laser light show of some type, just a green squiggly line, moving to the music at some point in the concert."
This website has two newspaper reviews and a long deadbase review of the show, which provide a lot more detail:
http://www.theblackdog.org/gd-bpo/
3/20/70
This was the Dead's first evening at the Capitol Theater in Port Chester (with Catfish opening). The early show is sadly not available, though it should be - Ken Lee was presumably taping, and the second show was taped in both SBD and AUD. (Perhaps the early show will surface someday. The old tape with this label is now thought to be the 6-24-70 early show.)
The late show exists in a buzzy mono SBD. Ken Lee's AUD is only available as a patch at the start - it would be nice to have the complete AUD, since it is excellent quality. Aside from someone drumming on the balcony railing, it sounds as good as the next night's tapes, and the power of the band and excitement of the audience really come through (which you don't really get on the SBD). Even a 'little' song like Me & My Uncle shines; so if the full AUD ever comes out, we can hear the show in a new light.
The AUD tape catches the opening songs, the SBD tape not coming in until the middle of Know You Rider. The band is in a good mood - there's lots of laughter and inaudible chatter between songs, and Garcia even jokes with the audience, introducing Uncle as "a little spring song". From Casey Jones on, the rowdy Capitol crowd shouts at the band, full of song requests, any random song. (One forlorn soul even requests Rosemary!) Before Hard to Handle, Garcia says, "This isn't New York City. Shit. It's cool, we're not going anywhere." Then he mocks Weir: "White Rabbit, goddammit!"
After an unremarkable China>Rider, the show continues with a ramshackle Hard to Handle - Garcia breaks a string, so Weir has to carry the solo himself. Pigpen says to the crowd afterward, "Hey, I'm missing somebody by the name of Annette, where is she? I want to see her now."
Then it's time for the acoustic set -
Weir: "We're gonna waste some more time."
Garcia: "We're gonna slow you down. I can see things are getting out of hand, as usual. Oh man, that was a long time ago. [calls for Alligator] Relax, relax, we'll do that."
Weir: "We're gonna waste a bunch of time and re-set up and slow you all down. You'll hate it and we'll love it, but we got lots of time."
They start the acoustic set with three 1970 debuts in a row - the first Deep Elem Blues and Don't Ease Me In since 1966, and the first-ever live Friend of the Devil. (This song has some different lyrics, also sung the next night - Hunter had written it for the New Riders back in '69, but Garcia liked it enough to snatch it for the Dead.) A tape cut wipes out the end of Black Peter and most of Uncle John's Band. Pigpen comes back out for Katie Mae, worrying, "I might make a lot of mistakes..."
The electric set resumes with Good Lovin', but after a brief drums they fall into the Not Fade Away beat; Weir starts singing it, and they detour for a short throwaway version of NFA. The drums continue, and they go back into Good Lovin' with hardly any jamming. They make up for it by following with a sharp Viola Lee Blues, which was quite a rarity by then. (It's the first we have since 4/26/69, though I suspect they'd played others since then.) Pigpen is playing with them on organ - the jam quickly picks up speed and hurtles into an explosive, crackling meltdown. The re-entry jam into the last verse is relaxed, and there's a nice feedback ending. Then they calm things down with a wispy High Time, before embarking on the show-closing Lovelight.
Pigpen takes his usual rap, with advice to the lonely souls in the crowd: "The first thing you got to do is get your hands out of your pockets, and play with something that's better than that. Pocket pool is a long time ago, man, ain't no way to do. So what you got to do now, fellows, you find yourself standing next to a young lady, turn over to your side - 'excuse me ma'am, my name is so and so, what's yours?' And while you're doing that, you reach in her pocketbook, take a look at her wallet, and find out if she's 18. After you get all that business straight, all you got to do is find a place to go. And if you can do that, good luck!"
After Lovelight, the crowd is all worked-up and demands more. The announcer gasps, "Far-out...outrageous evening...unreal... I don't know - I think they're kind of tired - I don't think they have the energy to do another one - one second, we'll find out... Get a light over here - we just spoke to them, they did work very very hard for all of us, they're very very exhausted, they'll be here tomorrow night, come back tomorrow." The band starts singing We Bid You Goodnight to soothe the crowd's disappointment.
After that's over, new road-manager Sam Cutler has an announcement: "There's a chick in the audience called Annette - Pigpen wants to see you at the back of the stage. If anybody else is pretty, you can come too."
No doubt, a night of debauchery ensued....
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-20.sbd.late.hamilton.14287.sbeok.shnf
By the way, this was Blair Jackson's first Dead show - he wrote an essay describing his experience.
The Capitol "was about one-third full, in a place that only seated about 2000 to begin with. Because the word wasn't out about the Capitol yet, a lot of people probably didn't even know about the shows. By the next time they played the Capitol, the place was packed for every show.... The acoustics were tremendous - better even than the Fillmore East - and every seat in the place was great.... The first act that night was an annoying blues-rock band called Catfish....nobody seemed to like them very much, and everyone got fed up with Catfish's constant pleas for us to get out of our seats and boogie.... When the Dead hit the stage, everyone in the place leaped to their feet and started dancing. (At most other rock shows, everyone sat in their seats until the last song...even at the Fillmore West, most people sat on the ground or stood immobile in front of the stage.) So a few seconds into the first Dead song, I notice that half the people in the small crowd are flailing.... A very attractive girl who'd been dancing wildly in the front row suddenly took off all her clothes, jumped onstage and started dancing wildly next to Garcia, who looked amused.... After half a minute or so, a member of the Dead's road crew carried her offstage... [In Viola Lee] the crescendo was so loud and long and intense I thought my brain was dissolving. They hit a peak that seemed to go on forever; it was easily the weirdest music I'd ever heard.... The Dead wrapped things up with Lovelight...Pigpen got everyone to go absolutely crazy. He had us screamin' and hollerin' and carryin' on. He even got the few Deadheads who weren't dancing to get up and join the fun... A different naked girl danced in the aisle next to us...until an usher eventually asked her to put on some clothes."
3/21/70
We have both shows from Ken Lee's excellent AUD tapes - the sound is clear, though the early-show tape has some channel wobble which can be distracting.
The band's playing sparkles, and they pull out a few rarities for this show. They start the show with a slinky Walkin' the Dog. (This is the first known live version, aside from a 1966 demo - we have just one other version this year, from 11/9/70.)
Within a couple songs the audience is already hollering non-stop at the band between songs, so naturally Garcia decides to give them a slow, chilly Death Don't Have No Mercy. (Death had become somewhat rare, last played on 1/16/70 - this would be the last version until 1989.) Death quiets down the audience for a while, but they soon revive with noisy song requests.
So Weir gives a speech: "While you're shouting out requests, I want you to bear in mind...when we made up the songs we made up no names for the songs, and we had a friend of ours make up names for the songs and submit 'em to the president of the record company to put on the album, and we never even learned the names to all our songs. So you're shouting a bunch of meaningless words to us, and I swear it's true..." This doesn't satisfy the crowd, and they impatiently slow-clap...
Pigpen appears for a brisk Good Lovin', in which the jam ends all too soon, and an excellent Big Boss Man. After this there's a long pause while the band deliberates, and the audience calls for Alligator and Lovelight. Weir responds, "Boy, are you ever going to like this," as the band starts a slow, mellow He Was A Friend of Mine. (This was another uncommon song, last played on 12/12/69 - this would be its last performance.) The crowd takes it well, and Garcia's second solo is a spellbinding wonder.
At end they barely pause before blasting into Viola Lee - a surprising choice considering they'd done it the night before. The jam starts almost introspectively - prolonged longer than on the 20th - then speeds like a runaway train into a beautiful chaotic meltdown. Coming back to the groove, they fall naturally into a loose Seven jam, which was quite rare. (They'd hinted at it during the 4/26/69 Viola Lee, of which Lesh says, "We later expanded and used this riff extensively - unfortunately, none of those performances seem to have survived." The one exception seems to be the full-blown 9/29/69 version.) On top of the Seven, Lesh slips the Cumberland riff, and the others fall in. Under the circumstances this Cumberland is quite relaxed, and not very fiery. It closes the show, much to the crowd's disappointment.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-21.early.lee.pcrp.20184.sbeok.shnf (early show)
The late show also finds the band much more laid-back than their hyper audience - Garcia's playing is very calm and deliberate in the jams. After a standard Casey Jones opener, the show gets exciting right away with an excellent Dancin' in the Streets. The jam is extremely graceful, with Lesh and Garcia playing off each other beautifully - again they easily slip into a stomping Tighten Up jam, then subside into a quiet, reflective passage as the audience claps the beat - then Garcia winds up the tension for a grand re-entry into the verse. After this, people in the crowd ask for St Stephen, but the band heads into Easy Wind (Pigpen seems to be caught unprepared, as he starts out singing the wrong verse). This cuts at the end, but the tape resumes as the band gets ready for the acoustic set.
The audience is quite noisy, shouting at the band and at each other. Weir says, "You're too kind... Let's hear some insults - why doesn't everybody turn to their neighbor and insult him as worst as you possibly can." The crowd obliges by hollering even louder, prompting Garcia to ask, "Take it easy out there, you unruly pigs."
The acoustic set is somewhat marred by audience noise - in fact, you can hear the taper keep going "shhh!" to clappers throughout the set. On top of that, the microphones were on the balcony railing, and people were tapping time on the railing, especially in the quiet parts. Since this was a seated venue, some of the crowd seems to have been disturbed by all the dancers, and lots of shouting is directed at them. During the Friend of the Devil intro, someone yells "Sit down!" and Garcia mutters, "Shut the fuck up." (But in Deep Elem we still get cries of "Sit down!")
Surprisingly, the band takes a request - after Black Peter, someone requests Wake Up Little Susie, and Garcia replies, "Yeah, we'll try that one." After Uncle John, Weir asks the crowd, "You guys wanna hear Pigpen? (cheers) Well let him know about it! (cheers) I don't think he hears you, maybe you ought to shout a little louder! (cheers) Here he is now folks, Pigpen!" Pigpen comes on for his one song to much acclaim: "You probably heard this one last night because it's the only one I know... Yeah, you can't hear the mistakes unless you shut up." He gives us a very nice Katie Mae.
The acoustic set over, people shout for St Stephen, the Other One, etc, and applaud and holler at each other, while the Dead tease Cosmic Charlie endlessly. Charlie is smooth and standard (not the 3/1/69-type blowout you'd expect); once it comes to a stop, there's lots more random yelling.
Finally the band obliges with "the hits" - St Stephen is received rapturously, and as usual segues into a fine Not Fade Away. Garcia spins out melodic riffs, circling around the rhythm - he takes the band back to the Stephen riff, then into an unexpected China Cat jam. Unusually, NFA comes to a stop, and the Dead take a while to figure out the next tune, while Weir riffs around.
Next up is a mighty Midnight Hour - this one has a hypnotic vibe, as the audience claps all the way through. Once Pigpen stops rapping, Garcia lets loose the sweetest, most delicate solo imaginable - then Pigpen raps some more, similar to a Good Lovin' rap of a year later ("she calls me daddy!"), while Garcia darts in little fills around him. Suddenly they switch to the Lovelight finale in a unique segue, and the audience goes into hysterics.
The announcer exclaims, "Incredible set by the Grateful Dead!" (Crowd: "More!") "Stand by..." (Crowd chants, "More, more!") Pigpen comes out and says brusquely, "All right you guys, it's your show, see you later," and again the Dead close with We Bid You Goodnight.
http://www.archive.org/details/gd1970-03-21.late.aud.lee.pcrp.21779.shnf (complete late show - avoid the other Archive copy)
3/24/70
Periodically the band would play isolated shows in distant Florida - 12/29/68, 12/28/69, the May '69 Big Rock Pow Wow shows - and they tended to play very enthusiastically there. This is a fast-paced show - as the Compendium says, "The Dead are given only a ninety-minute set to work their magic. They come out high-spirited and really go for it... There's a feeling of haste...as they quickly cram in their 'hits' to beat the clock."
(Deadlists shows a ticket for different dates, which raises a mystery, but for now I'll accept this show as the 24th. This tape is also unusual for the month in being in wide stereo - the other SBDs we've heard have mostly been in mono.)
Our tape cuts in during a rushed Morning Dew. Weir says, "At the risk of being repetitious, we're gonna do another song in the same key." (This turns out to be Mama Tried.)
Good Lovin' is the best of the month - it has a short drum solo, then Garcia jams with the drums for a while (like an Alligator) before the others come back. Weir & Lesh take over the jam while Garcia sits out (changing a string?) - this part is unique, Weir really churns away on rhythm; then Garcia comes back in a torrent - after teasing the riff a while, they build up to a Hard to Handle-style chordal climax. After a few more songs (including a rousing electric Don't Ease Me In), it's time for the big medley.
This Dark Star is notable for being entirely instrumental - a tapecut wipes out the first verse, and the band bails out before the second verse. It's also a fast, streamlined version (kind of '68ish in that way), making it easy to hear how the band work together in the jam. The intro jam is swift and focused - it soon cuts off, and the tape picks up again deep in the post-verse space. Things don't sound too scary - the band throws out a few hints of melody - a jam rapidly materializes - and soon the music is flying in streams of ecstasy. They drop in a quick Feelin' Groovy jam - but Garcia keeps pushing onward, his guitar lines turning into molten gold, cascading through the Dark Star riff, then pausing & trying out a new jam. For a moment before the end it reminds me of the end of that 3/21/72 Star, til Garcia sounds like he's heading for a Sputnik jam. But Lesh is in a hurry to move on, and before they can return to the verse, he starts pounding out the Other One riff.
This is a very fast version, they speed right through it - Garcia jumps into a quick St Stephen - the drums beat out an intro to a chunky NFA without much jamming - and they soon hop over into a customary Lovelight, with Pigpen working his usual rap. Lovelight would seem like the natural closer, but Weir abruptly takes it into Me & My Uncle (as on 2/28), and the show ends there. Garcia says, "Our time's up, see you later."
http://www.archive.org/details/gd70-03-24.sbd.miller.32054.sbeok.flacf
March 20, 2010
Garcia & Volunteers
Some of you may know, there's a quote from Garcia in the 'mock newspaper' on the inside of Jefferson Airplane's album Volunteers, claiming to be from the mythical "PAZ Chin-In":
"I broke a string so why don't you wait a minute & talk to each other. Or maybe talk to yourself, to your various selves. Can you talk to yourself? Do you even know you have various selves to talk to?"
What's less-known is that this is an actual quote. It comes from Michael Lydon's article on the Grateful Dead, published in Rolling Stone (August 23, 1969). This is perhaps the best early article on the Dead - Lydon followed the Dead around for several shows at the end of May '69, watching what went down, interviewing the band about their history.
One of the shows he was at was the Portland Springer's Inn show on May 30. He describes Garcia breaking a string during Doin' That Rag, and then comes the famous quote. (Later on, before Dark Star, he says that someone in the audience shouted, "Play the blues!" To which Mickey Hart replied, "Fuck you man, go hear a blues band if you want that.")
What's more, now that we have the tape of this (newly circulating) show, we can hear it for ourselves. The end of Doin' That Rag indeed goes haywire - but what Garcia actually says is not quite the same: "I broke another string, so I'm gonna change this one. Meanwhile, you can talk amongst yourselves - or maybe it's talk amongst yourself - or you can talk to yourself." The rest isn't there. (Neither can Mickey's 'intro' to Dark Star be heard.) Maybe the tape stopped, maybe Lydon heard more words off-mike, maybe he made it up....
Lydon is pretty accurate about the rest of the show; the only song he misses is Cosmic Charlie. He describes a couple other shows as well - the first is the Winterland May 28 benefit. Apparently it was a lousy show, the band unable to get it together. (Garcia said afterwards, "I can get behind falling to pieces before an audience sometimes. We're not performers - we are who we are for those moments we're before the public, and that's not always at the peak.")
The next show is the Robertson Gym May 29 show - the way Lydon has it, they were stuck with the student PA, played Lovelight for 40 minutes and then stormed off the stage in disgust. (If accurate, this makes it clear that our "5/29/69" tape is actually from the 5/11 San Diego show. There is no mention of Santana, nor any reason he'd be at this little gig; whereas reviewers of the 5/11 show remember the jam with Santana there.)
Garcia to the audience: "Sorry, but we're gonna split for a while and set up our own PA so we can hear what the fuck is happening."
Garcia offstage: "We should give the money back if we don't do it righteous. Where's Bear? Listen man, are you in this group, are you one of us? Are you gonna set up that PA? Their monitors suck, I can't hear a goddamn thing out there. How can I play if I can't hear the drums?"
Pigpen: "Let's just go ahead. I can fake it."
Garcia: "I can't."
Pigpen: "It's your decision."
Lesh: "Yeah, if you and nobody else gives a good goddamn."
Lesh to the audience: "We're really sorry. We burned you of a night of music, and we'll come back and make it up."
Weir: "If we dare show our faces in this town again."
It's too bad Lydon didn't make it to the May 31 Eugene show with the Pranksters; a description of that would be great.... But his account of their May 30 plane flight to Portland is priceless, and too long to quote.
By the way - the Volunteers album also has Garcia playing pedal-steel on the mock-country song The Farm - the first of his pedal-steel guest appearances in the studio. (He'd only been playing it a few months.) It also seems to be his only involvement on a '60s Jefferson Airplane album after Surrealistic Pillow, in which he was practically a band member - playing guitar on several songs, arranging others, and perhaps even naming the album, but simply labeled as the "spiritual advisor".
(You could also count the "official bootleg" Jefferson Airplane at the Family Dog Ballroom released a couple years ago, a show recorded Sept 6, 1969 after the Dead's set, in which Garcia and Hart play in a long show-ending jam - Garcia even plays the Darkness Darkness melody! The Airplane actually play The Farm at this show too, but Garcia's not on it.)
There's also another connection between the Volunteers album and the Dead - the main Volunteers/We Can Be Together riff is taken from St Stephen!
It could be a case like the Mind Left Body riff where the two bands just shared a common riff, not caring or remembering where it originated. Or perhaps it was a little tribute to the Dead?
In any case, there's quite a difference between "up against the wall" and "ladyfingers dipped in moonlight"....
Garcia '69: "We are trying to make things groovier for everybody so more people can feel better more often, to advance the trip, to get higher, however you want to say it - but we're musicians, and there's just no way to put that idea, 'save the world', into music - you can only be that idea, or at least make manifest that idea as it appears to you, and hope maybe others follow. And that idea comes to you only moment by moment, so what we're going after is no farther away than the end of our noses....
"I've been into music so long that I'm dripping with it; it's all I ever expect to do. I can't do anything else. Music is like yoga, something you really do when you're doing it. Thinking about what it means comes after the fact and isn't very interesting. Truth is something you stumble into when you think you're going someplace else, like those moments when you think you're playing and the whole room becomes one being - precious moments, man. But you can't look for them and they can't be repeated. Being alive means to continue to change, never to be where I was before. Music is the timeless experience of constant change."
"I broke a string so why don't you wait a minute & talk to each other. Or maybe talk to yourself, to your various selves. Can you talk to yourself? Do you even know you have various selves to talk to?"
What's less-known is that this is an actual quote. It comes from Michael Lydon's article on the Grateful Dead, published in Rolling Stone (August 23, 1969). This is perhaps the best early article on the Dead - Lydon followed the Dead around for several shows at the end of May '69, watching what went down, interviewing the band about their history.
One of the shows he was at was the Portland Springer's Inn show on May 30. He describes Garcia breaking a string during Doin' That Rag, and then comes the famous quote. (Later on, before Dark Star, he says that someone in the audience shouted, "Play the blues!" To which Mickey Hart replied, "Fuck you man, go hear a blues band if you want that.")
What's more, now that we have the tape of this (newly circulating) show, we can hear it for ourselves. The end of Doin' That Rag indeed goes haywire - but what Garcia actually says is not quite the same: "I broke another string, so I'm gonna change this one. Meanwhile, you can talk amongst yourselves - or maybe it's talk amongst yourself - or you can talk to yourself." The rest isn't there. (Neither can Mickey's 'intro' to Dark Star be heard.) Maybe the tape stopped, maybe Lydon heard more words off-mike, maybe he made it up....
Lydon is pretty accurate about the rest of the show; the only song he misses is Cosmic Charlie. He describes a couple other shows as well - the first is the Winterland May 28 benefit. Apparently it was a lousy show, the band unable to get it together. (Garcia said afterwards, "I can get behind falling to pieces before an audience sometimes. We're not performers - we are who we are for those moments we're before the public, and that's not always at the peak.")
The next show is the Robertson Gym May 29 show - the way Lydon has it, they were stuck with the student PA, played Lovelight for 40 minutes and then stormed off the stage in disgust. (If accurate, this makes it clear that our "5/29/69" tape is actually from the 5/11 San Diego show. There is no mention of Santana, nor any reason he'd be at this little gig; whereas reviewers of the 5/11 show remember the jam with Santana there.)
Garcia to the audience: "Sorry, but we're gonna split for a while and set up our own PA so we can hear what the fuck is happening."
Garcia offstage: "We should give the money back if we don't do it righteous. Where's Bear? Listen man, are you in this group, are you one of us? Are you gonna set up that PA? Their monitors suck, I can't hear a goddamn thing out there. How can I play if I can't hear the drums?"
Pigpen: "Let's just go ahead. I can fake it."
Garcia: "I can't."
Pigpen: "It's your decision."
Lesh: "Yeah, if you and nobody else gives a good goddamn."
Lesh to the audience: "We're really sorry. We burned you of a night of music, and we'll come back and make it up."
Weir: "If we dare show our faces in this town again."
It's too bad Lydon didn't make it to the May 31 Eugene show with the Pranksters; a description of that would be great.... But his account of their May 30 plane flight to Portland is priceless, and too long to quote.
By the way - the Volunteers album also has Garcia playing pedal-steel on the mock-country song The Farm - the first of his pedal-steel guest appearances in the studio. (He'd only been playing it a few months.) It also seems to be his only involvement on a '60s Jefferson Airplane album after Surrealistic Pillow, in which he was practically a band member - playing guitar on several songs, arranging others, and perhaps even naming the album, but simply labeled as the "spiritual advisor".
(You could also count the "official bootleg" Jefferson Airplane at the Family Dog Ballroom released a couple years ago, a show recorded Sept 6, 1969 after the Dead's set, in which Garcia and Hart play in a long show-ending jam - Garcia even plays the Darkness Darkness melody! The Airplane actually play The Farm at this show too, but Garcia's not on it.)
There's also another connection between the Volunteers album and the Dead - the main Volunteers/We Can Be Together riff is taken from St Stephen!
It could be a case like the Mind Left Body riff where the two bands just shared a common riff, not caring or remembering where it originated. Or perhaps it was a little tribute to the Dead?
In any case, there's quite a difference between "up against the wall" and "ladyfingers dipped in moonlight"....
Garcia '69: "We are trying to make things groovier for everybody so more people can feel better more often, to advance the trip, to get higher, however you want to say it - but we're musicians, and there's just no way to put that idea, 'save the world', into music - you can only be that idea, or at least make manifest that idea as it appears to you, and hope maybe others follow. And that idea comes to you only moment by moment, so what we're going after is no farther away than the end of our noses....
"I've been into music so long that I'm dripping with it; it's all I ever expect to do. I can't do anything else. Music is like yoga, something you really do when you're doing it. Thinking about what it means comes after the fact and isn't very interesting. Truth is something you stumble into when you think you're going someplace else, like those moments when you think you're playing and the whole room becomes one being - precious moments, man. But you can't look for them and they can't be repeated. Being alive means to continue to change, never to be where I was before. Music is the timeless experience of constant change."
March 9, 2010
Cream and the Dead
Jack Bruce: "San Francisco! The first time we went there, that was pretty mind-expanding."
Ginger Baker: "I haven't recovered from San Francisco yet, we really had a ball."
Eric Clapton agreed: "The right place at the right time. There was definitely nothing else like it, and we fit in perfectly.... We loved it. It was like coming home. And we used to stay out in Sausalito, across the bay, and it was just what we wanted. I made tons of friends. People that seemed to have the same philosophy. It was the time of my life."
Clapton had fond memories of "the hippies in Sausalito, meeting the Grateful Dead, meeting Big Brother. All night long in Sausalito, where it was very hippy, these guys would be outside our window with bongos and congas..."
Cream's first near-brush with California came when their manager turned down an invitation to play at the Monterey Festival.
Clapton: "He didn't tell us that we'd been invited, which pissed me off. He told us after he turned them down, but he said, 'I have a reason for that. I want to break you in San Francisco independent of this festival, so that you have more of an impact.'"
Bruce: "Stigwood might take the credit, but he made terrible decisions. I expect we were asked to play all kinds of other big events that we never got to hear about... Instead, we were doing some terrible little gig somewhere.... We were too busy working to notice the places where we weren't working."
Cream was never an 'underground' band in the UK, kept apart from the new 'happening' scene, and didn't play at the psychedelic clubs there, instead staying on the normal club circuit. Their only shows in the US had been a "Murray the K Show" in NYC in spring '67, a ridiculous multi-band revue where they had to play five brief sets a day, starting at 10 am!
Bruce: "We started off with two songs, then they said, 'Sorry, you'll have to cut it to one.' Then they said, 'That song's too long, you'll have to cut it down a bit....' By the end, we were playing half a song a set."
However, they were thrilled at being in New York, soaking up the scene, going round and jamming with numerous musicians at the clubs. As Clapton said, "New York is incredible. I'd love to live there. Everybody is so much more hip to the music scene." They were especially struck by New York's first Human Be-In in Central Park, "20,000 people just having a good time," complete with dosed popcorn....
Back home, the band was unhappy at their lack of progress in the summer of '67, as they puttered around doing little UK gigs while the release of Disraeli Gears was delayed for months (the record company considered it 'psychedelic hogwash'). Clapton mentioned in June, "It's a big bring-down for me to be in this country at the moment. Everybody's obsessed with Jimi Hendrix... Honestly, we were getting on much better in the States. Sometimes I feel like cutting out on Britain for good." Jack Bruce agreed: "We've reached a bit of a strange state as a group. We're not sure exactly where we are going now." As Bruce said later, "It just wasn't really happening in England - we were stagnating."
Things were starting to look hopeless, when Bill Graham booked them at the Fillmore for a long run, from August 22 to September 3, 1967. This was quite a long stay for an unknown English band - apparently word had reached him of their live reputation; and Clapton would already have been a known name in the US. They were billed with a couple other electric blues acts, the Butterfield Blues Band and Electric Flag.
Bruce: "The place was crammed. I think we played there for ten days... We were blown away by the fact that people knew who we were." Most importantly, the Fillmore "had the best sound system we'd ever used up to that point, which was crucial."
"The Fillmore had a great PA, and a really good guy doing it called Charlie Button who did the sound for the Dead. It was great to hear the wonderful sound. That was when we first started doing the extended improvisations, which was new to the band. We usually played very short three, four, five-minute versions of the songs. Quite simply, we were fed up with doing that, and the audience was so great at the Fillmore. They were all so out of it, so laid-back, and would shout, 'Just play!' They wouldn't let us go. So we just started jamming, and that turned into what we became known for."
"We expected that it would be the same kind of thing [as England]: nobody knowing us or wanting to know us... We were very, very nervous because this was something really big for us, and it was almost the first time we had played to a full house (the others were festivals, with loads of bands, or else they were tiny pubs and clubs). But all these kids had actually come to see us, and it was the first time we'd had our own audience on that scale, and they were just shouting out things like 'play anything, just play, we love you' and stuff, and the whole thing ended with us just playing these incredibly long, improvised things."
"That was the influence San Francisco had on us... When we hit the Fillmore, we started to play those long improvisations... All the audiences were stoned out of their collective bonces. That was what they wanted us to do, they just encouraged us to do that, and it was very successful. It just sort of happened."
Clapton: "We were told by Bill Graham that we could play anything we liked for as long as we liked, even if this meant playing til dawn... We soon realized that no one could see us because they were projecting light shows onto the band, so that we were actually in the light show. It was very liberating. We could just play our hearts out, without inhibition, knowing that the audience was more into whatever scenery was being projected onto the screen behind us. I'm sure a good deal of them were out of their heads...but it didn't matter. They were listening, and that encouraged us to go places we'd never been before. We started doing extended solos, and were soon playing fewer and fewer songs, but for much longer. We'd go off in our own directions, then hit these coincidental points in the music when we would all arrive at the same conclusion...and we would jam on it for a little while and then go back into our own thing. I had never experienced anything like it. It had nothing to do with lyrics or ideas; it was much deeper, purely musical. We were at our peak during that period."
There's an exciting audience tape from their last Fillmore show on September 3 - among other songs, Sweet Wine now has a great freeform jam, and the Spoonful features an incredible droning-raga solo from Clapton (perhaps influenced by Michael Bloomfield's East/West solos).
Clapton was excited at first by SF audiences, saying that September: "In San Francisco there is more encouragement and less competition from musician to musician.... San Francisco has about the best audience anywhere... Every little note you play is being noticed, being devoured... You know you have to do it right."
But Cream shared a low estimate of the local music scene in San Francisco. As Ginger Baker said, "Maybe they were surprised to find out we could play our instruments? There are some very good groups out there - the Electric Flag and the Butterfield band."
Clapton had the same opinion: "As much as I saw of the bands that were killing them there - I mean Big Brother and the Jefferson Airplane - I was very unimpressed." The only thing he liked was Butterfield's blues band ("fantastic") and Electric Flag ("just the heaviest thing around, an incredible band"). (Bloomfield, in return, seems to have been quite frightened by Clapton's playing.)
Jack Bruce also disliked California bands: "They were crap. All those bands - none of them were any good, they were all so many weekend hippies. Not so much the Grateful Dead, I never saw the Dead at that time, but all those other bands....the Doors, crap."
Clapton mentions that even before he went to California, "I was actually pretty contemptuous of the West Coast rock & roll scene.... I thought they sounded pretty second-rate. I liked the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield, and I had heard a great album by Moby Grape, but I had never seen them play live. Basically, I thought most of the so-called psychedelic stuff that people were talking about was pretty dull."
(Michael Bloomfield also had a harsh opinion of the local scene, saying in early 1968: "I think San Francisco music isn't good music, not good bands. They're amateur cats... I don't dig Good Morning Little Schoolgirl by the Grateful Dead. I don't Pigpen trying to sing blues; it don't sound like blues. It sounds like some white kid trying to sing blues. It drags me; they're not funky. They don't have a good beat....it's not the real shit and it's not even a good imitation. It's not even like the Stones. I don't dig the Airplane - I think they're a third-rate rock & roll band. I don't dig Country Joe & the Fish - I find them an abomination, a fraud perpetuated on people. I don't dig Big Brother - I dig Janis, but I think Big Brother is just a wretched, lame group of cats who she carries for no reason at all." It's worth noting that fellow Butterfield Band guitarist Elvin Bishop was much more positive about the Dead...)
Keep in mind that the members of Cream were 'grizzled veterans' of the UK club circuit - they'd been considered masters of their instruments back in '64 when folks like Jorma and Jerry were plunking away in acoustic coffeehouses - and as professionals, they may have been taken aback by the shambolic amateurism of San Francisco's psychedelic music. (Jack Bruce didn't like Pink Floyd, either, though Clapton did.)
In September '67, Clapton mentioned one surprise in San Francisco: "The first thing that hit me really hard was that the Grateful Dead were playing a lot of gigs for free. That very much moved me. I'd never heard of anyone doing that before."
Cream didn't see the Dead live, though. At some point Clapton heard the Dead's first album, but didn't have a positive reaction. "I don't think the quality of their music is as high as a lot of other good recording bands. People are more concerned with live music, maybe, than recording. If the Grateful Dead are one of the best, they're not doing a very good job on recording....they're not really my bag."
Of course, Clapton being a blues fanatic, he was going to be most impressed by the American blues bands - he seemed to have the idea that straight blues artists should be much more popular. "I was shocked at how many people weren't aware of what they had on their doorstep."
He somehow got the mistaken idea that local bands were unaware of the blues, and that Cream's blues-based repertoire was quite new to these audiences. "There weren't many bands doing what Cream did... Even though there were the Grateful Dead, and the Jefferson Airplane and Big Brother and all that, they were kind of playing pop music. They weren't relating to their roots too well. They were trying to get away from it all. What we were doing, basically, was bringing their music back home and showing it to them for the first time." (Hearing Cream's version of the "blues", it's hard to know what he's talking about!)
At the same time, he was quite impressed by American radio. "You could be in a car and tune the radio to a country music station, a jazz station, a rock station, a blues station, or an oldies rock station. The categorization was so wide, there seemed to be room for anyone... When I came home, it seemed in England there wasn't really room for more than one person to be popular at a time." (Jack Bruce was also surprised to hear FM stations playing entire albums - "that was great, that was a nice thing to do.")
As a result of their Fillmore experience, Cream's sets changed - rather than playing short sets of blues covers & some original pop songs, now they played just a few old songs with 10-20 minute jams everywhere. The songs themselves were now irrelevant. (Tapes of their American tour show the jams becoming ever lengthier and more explosive after the Fillmore run.)
Clapton said in October '67: "We don't do anything straight. We're into music much more now, as much as jazz musicians are. There are no arrangements, except for arrival and departure points. Sometimes, we just play free for half an hour."
Baker (also that October): "We are getting further out in playing different things every night. We even did the same number twice some nights, and the versions were so different we got away with it."
Clapton: "The idea is to get so far away from the original line that you're playing something that's never been heard before."
One thing Cream prided themselves on was that, as Bruce said, "Any instrument could be the lead instrument." They were not playing jams in the 'psychedelic' sense, but more as virtuosos, all of them taking simultaneous leads. The idea was to bring an improvisational jazz sensibility into loud rock music. Clapton himself was not so much into jazz; but Baker and Bruce both came from jazz backgrounds and considered live Cream to be a jazz band. "We just didn't tell Eric!"
Clapton spoke recently about the jazz influence: "The atmosphere and spontaneity, the creativity of it, was what we drew from when we got onstage in Cream, a lot of [our] freeform stuff, although it was still pretty limited in its tonality. Everything I was playing was only coming from the blues scale, and moving out of blues & rock phrasing. But the intention was to try and escape that. A lot of that came out of the listening I did to early Coltrane."
To a Dead-attuned listener, Cream shows were quite noisy, even by the standards of '68 Dead - full of shouting, power chords, heavy rock songs. Cream liked to keep the music at a deafening high pitch, rarely slackening the intense onslaught for quiet moments. Although they were fans of Chicago blues, their blues covers tended to be unrecognizable. Their jams may seem static compared to the Dead's, in that there's not much direction, no progression of moods, no transitions between songs, little feeling of a cosmic journey culminating in a climax, and absolutely no spaciness - there's just straight-out jamming, then suddenly an unrelated song reappears.
The Dead at the time, though (late '67), were not yet so utterly different in their approach, and were still working out their own improvisational techniques. Their shows of that year are full of energy, even frantic, and they're happy to turn up the noise, though they're friendlier at heart than Cream. They were also turning blues covers into a new kind of rock music, with emphasis on the instrumental interplay. There is a definite kinship between, say, their Viola Lee Blues and Cream's I'm So Glad. (The one song both bands had in common, Sittin' on Top of the World, shared no resemblance! But it's so easy to imagine what a Dead Spoonful might have been like with Pigpen...)
The Dead started jamming from a different perspective - as skilled amateurs, learning their instruments together, trying to fuse band & audience in a transportational acid-fried music, encouraged by other like-minded bands around them. Highly ambitious, in those days they always had a goal of what the music should be like, and were constantly self-improving. Cream was more aloof, torn by bickering and loss of harmony, and somewhat lacking in goals - they were lucky to find a sympathetic producer in the studio; but onstage, once they got tired of the new improv-heavy format, they were stuck and had no idea how to change or get out, except to quit.
Cream had a huge impact on people who saw them. Today, when they're considered "classic rock" predecessors to even noisier bands like Led Zeppelin, it's easy to forget that their first audiences were blown away by a kind of playing they'd never seen before - even in a city that already had its share of jam-bands. (Cream attracted a much bigger audience in their few months of US touring, and more tapers in the audience, than the Dead had in their first four years!)
I'll be quoting some audience reactions at the end, but for now I'll mention that many new listeners were so amazed they came back repeatedly to see Cream as often as they could. One fan remembers, "Most of the audience there that night was local people who had seen Cream the night before, perhaps even the previous weekend as well. This was in San Francisco - these were people who saw the best bands in the world, and they were really excited. The charged atmosphere at a Cream concert was unique in my experience."
Another witness of the first Fillmore run: "The Bay Area bands who were hot at the time were (including the sacred Dead) a joke in comparison. I heard them, I think, for 3 or 4 nights in a row, caught all the sets, and each night was better than the last. You could almost see the guys hit their stride as the nights went on, getting tighter and tighter and more experimental at the same time."
As Blair Jackson says, "The group's long, noisy, distorted jams made most bands sound positively mousy in comparison, and there's no question that the Dead and the Airplane were impressed by the volume and intensity of Cream's live assault."
Jorma Kaukonen: "When I saw Cream for the first time, I thought they were the most incredible performing band I had ever seen in my life. That might still be true. As a guitar player, I wanted to be able to do stuff like that." Seeing Cream inspired the Airplane to delve further into long improvisations. As Jorma says, "It was a growth period. I was starting to use multiple amplifiers. There were different kinds of fuzztones and the wah-wah pedal....you hear a wah-wah and you're thinking Cream."
Marty Balin: "We'd been playing the songs the same way for about a year, and then one night Jorma just took off. He started playing amazingly, just real free. We realized that once everybody knew the arrangement you could just take off like that... Pretty soon we got to a place where the music was playing us, we weren't playing it."
Jack Casady: "Probably the single most important event was when Eric Clapton came over with Cream and played the Fillmore. That and Jimi Hendrix electrified every musician as far as playing in a rock band that would just peel paint off the walls. Everybody got louder and harder and tougher after that."
(Of course, the Airplane had already been getting heavier with things like the feedback-drenched Ballad of You & Me & Pooneil before they saw Cream.)
Owsley also went to lots of Cream's shows. Clapton: "He showed up at all our gigs... We did a lot of acid, took a lot of trips.... I don't know how many times we tried to play while using acid, but there were a few... I don't really know how I got through it, because I didn't know if my hands were working, what the guitar was, or even what it was made of..."
Even Jerry Garcia was impressed by the power-trio format: "Me and Jack Casady and Mickey were gonna form a power trio one day... We actually got together one afternoon... We ended up with a tape that was about two and a half hours.... We could kick some ass...but it just sort of petered out."
Cream themselves were very surprised by their enthusiastic American reception.
Clapton said during the tour: "We seem to be a lot more popular here than I had imagined. I heard that we'd been heard of through the underground thing. Yet I really didn't imagine that we'd be this popular, or that we'd be accepted as readily as we were, because an American band like Butterfield can go to England now, and just die at all the places."
Bruce said in January '68: "It amazes me how well known we are [in America]. It is an underground thing." He had plans for the next album - "If the record company will let us, we'd like to make it a double album...one would contain the tracks we are working on now, the other would be an album recorded live at the Fillmore."
Soon after Cream left the Fillmore in September '67, they decided to record a live album there. They'd wanted to record a live album for some time, realizing that their studio recordings were never going to capture their live power; and they all agreed they played best at the Fillmore.
Bruce: "Cream was like two bands: there was a studio band, where we had the ability to overdub, and there was the live band. Some of the things worked very well live, but some things were very difficult to realize live with only three people." There was a huge gap between studio Cream and live Cream. In the studio they got to experiment with strange little songs, but didn't do the extended improvisations they'd become known for; and on the stage, they virtually ignored all the new songs they were recording, sticking mostly to a few jammed-out tunes they'd been doing since '66.
Cream played another 10-day run at the Fillmore & Winterland at the beginning of March '68, recording several shows for their next album. Unfortunately, by March '68 they were already burning out - on top of which they may have 'played it safe' when being recorded.
Bruce: "The best of Cream live was never captured on record. We were at our peak when we did our first big American tour [but by the recording] we had slipped over the peak." "It was pretty representative of the band on an average night, but not on one of the nights when we really took off - like the very early Fillmore gigs."
Most of the official live Cream recordings come from the Winterland shows on March 8-10. (As it turned out, their selection for the Wheels of Fire live album was diabolical, one side entirely taken up by harmonica & drum solos - perhaps a combination of LP time limits & band politics - but more songs were released on a couple 'posthumous' live albums. Unfortunately, the unreleased shows were then burned up in a vault fire.) There was even a BBC film crew filming some of the San Francisco shows - a few snippets were used in the "All My Loving" rock documentary, but all outtakes of course were junked by the BBC.
From March 10 '68, here's a picture of Clapton & Garcia, taken in Sausalito:
http://www.dead.net/features/jerry-garcia-eric-clapton-pose
Cream and the Dead played one show together after Cream's Winterland run - March 11, 1968, in Sacramento. Here's the poster:
http://www.deadlists.com/posters/1960s/19680311.html
Apparently, Tom Constanten (on leave from the air force) also joined the Dead for this show! The Dead opened for Cream (being much less popular at the time), so they may have played a shortened set. Their setlist is said to be: Cryptical>Other One>Cryptical>New Potato Caboose>Born Cross-Eyed>Caution Jam. McNally says in his bio, "After a brilliant Dead set, Cream came out to top them and attacked their instruments so hard they blew out their speakers; the Dead had to lend them equipment to get through the show."
This must have been quite an evening - listen to Cream's Winterland recordings of March 8-10, and the Dead's shows of March 16/17, and you can imagine the noisy night in Sacramento!
There's a story that after Garcia and Hart saw Cream, Hart said, "This is the best band in the world!" Garcia replied, "They are tonight."
I don't know what Cream made of the Dead, though I remember seeing a comment by Clapton that they spent a long time struggling to get a good sound....
There was an interview (which I can't find now) where Clapton said the Dead had a lot of skill but no idea what to do with it - a common complaint in those days. On the other hand, as an older guy in '97 he said, "I would have loved to have played with them actually. That would have been great fun, just to pick up some of that vibe and figure it out."
Later on, of course, the Dead became an institution, inspiring a whole jam-band scene. Cream are perhaps more often remembered as early burnouts on the road to heavy metal, or as a brief bright spot in Clapton's checkered career. So it may be worth gathering a few quotes from people who saw them at the time, to understand why they were an instant success in the US and Wheels of Fire became one of the biggest albums of '68. (Remember that when they were recording shows, Clapton had to turn down his volume for the microphones to cope, which seriously changed the band's sound on the live albums.)
"I was immobilized. I couldn't believe the power of their music. It was revelatory, thunderous and overwhelming."
"Eric was a revelation, as was the band as a whole. Nobody had ever graced that stage with such power and musicianship and originality. Eric especially created spellbinding solos that seemed to ebb and flow - his tone, touch and sheer inventiveness took your breath away."
"At the end, I was completely drained of emotion. It didn't seem humanly possible for anyone to play that well, with such intensity, technical clarity, lyricism, and emotion. It was the closest thing in my life that approached a religious experience. I have never again heard anything that sounded so good, or which drilled right through you, as Clapton's SG played through Marshall stacks."
"I was grabbed by the sheer sound pressure, like being pinned up against the wall by volume, and the sound of Clapton's guitar. He was playing an SG, and he made a sound I had never heard before, like a cross between a violin and a guitar."
"Cream was very loud. I was astonished at the volume. I had the Fresh Cream album, and had read articles about what Cream did 'live', and I just had to go. I was still not prepared. They were astonishing, and completely different from any other band I had heard. They just roared. I just recall being flat-out blown away by the intensity of the whole show. The atmosphere before the show was electric with anticipation--everybody was so excited, in a state of high suspense, just waiting for Cream to start. Everyone expected something incredible to happen when Cream took the stage, and they got it."
"I will never forget the awesome power and thrilling musical high of that performance. My reaction was one of shock, first of all just hearing a guitar that massive and loud to the extent of almost vibrating your spinal column! Clapton's notes absolutely resonated through your entire body and when he hit those high register notes, they had a sound that has never been reproduced by any recording. They soared high in the air, and when he would bend a high note, it felt as if you were flying it was so intense."
"I was overwhelmed, by the power/volume and force they projected. Eric played so LOUD, I could barely hear anything else. After we left the concert arena all of us were in awe. For weeks after the show all we did was play Wheels of Fire and reflect on what we had witnessed."
These stories, and lots more, can be found at the best Cream website: http://gpatt.customer.netspace.net.au/cream/contents.htm
Ginger Baker: "I haven't recovered from San Francisco yet, we really had a ball."
Eric Clapton agreed: "The right place at the right time. There was definitely nothing else like it, and we fit in perfectly.... We loved it. It was like coming home. And we used to stay out in Sausalito, across the bay, and it was just what we wanted. I made tons of friends. People that seemed to have the same philosophy. It was the time of my life."
Clapton had fond memories of "the hippies in Sausalito, meeting the Grateful Dead, meeting Big Brother. All night long in Sausalito, where it was very hippy, these guys would be outside our window with bongos and congas..."
Cream's first near-brush with California came when their manager turned down an invitation to play at the Monterey Festival.
Clapton: "He didn't tell us that we'd been invited, which pissed me off. He told us after he turned them down, but he said, 'I have a reason for that. I want to break you in San Francisco independent of this festival, so that you have more of an impact.'"
Bruce: "Stigwood might take the credit, but he made terrible decisions. I expect we were asked to play all kinds of other big events that we never got to hear about... Instead, we were doing some terrible little gig somewhere.... We were too busy working to notice the places where we weren't working."
Cream was never an 'underground' band in the UK, kept apart from the new 'happening' scene, and didn't play at the psychedelic clubs there, instead staying on the normal club circuit. Their only shows in the US had been a "Murray the K Show" in NYC in spring '67, a ridiculous multi-band revue where they had to play five brief sets a day, starting at 10 am!
Bruce: "We started off with two songs, then they said, 'Sorry, you'll have to cut it to one.' Then they said, 'That song's too long, you'll have to cut it down a bit....' By the end, we were playing half a song a set."
However, they were thrilled at being in New York, soaking up the scene, going round and jamming with numerous musicians at the clubs. As Clapton said, "New York is incredible. I'd love to live there. Everybody is so much more hip to the music scene." They were especially struck by New York's first Human Be-In in Central Park, "20,000 people just having a good time," complete with dosed popcorn....
Back home, the band was unhappy at their lack of progress in the summer of '67, as they puttered around doing little UK gigs while the release of Disraeli Gears was delayed for months (the record company considered it 'psychedelic hogwash'). Clapton mentioned in June, "It's a big bring-down for me to be in this country at the moment. Everybody's obsessed with Jimi Hendrix... Honestly, we were getting on much better in the States. Sometimes I feel like cutting out on Britain for good." Jack Bruce agreed: "We've reached a bit of a strange state as a group. We're not sure exactly where we are going now." As Bruce said later, "It just wasn't really happening in England - we were stagnating."
Things were starting to look hopeless, when Bill Graham booked them at the Fillmore for a long run, from August 22 to September 3, 1967. This was quite a long stay for an unknown English band - apparently word had reached him of their live reputation; and Clapton would already have been a known name in the US. They were billed with a couple other electric blues acts, the Butterfield Blues Band and Electric Flag.
Bruce: "The place was crammed. I think we played there for ten days... We were blown away by the fact that people knew who we were." Most importantly, the Fillmore "had the best sound system we'd ever used up to that point, which was crucial."
"The Fillmore had a great PA, and a really good guy doing it called Charlie Button who did the sound for the Dead. It was great to hear the wonderful sound. That was when we first started doing the extended improvisations, which was new to the band. We usually played very short three, four, five-minute versions of the songs. Quite simply, we were fed up with doing that, and the audience was so great at the Fillmore. They were all so out of it, so laid-back, and would shout, 'Just play!' They wouldn't let us go. So we just started jamming, and that turned into what we became known for."
"We expected that it would be the same kind of thing [as England]: nobody knowing us or wanting to know us... We were very, very nervous because this was something really big for us, and it was almost the first time we had played to a full house (the others were festivals, with loads of bands, or else they were tiny pubs and clubs). But all these kids had actually come to see us, and it was the first time we'd had our own audience on that scale, and they were just shouting out things like 'play anything, just play, we love you' and stuff, and the whole thing ended with us just playing these incredibly long, improvised things."
"That was the influence San Francisco had on us... When we hit the Fillmore, we started to play those long improvisations... All the audiences were stoned out of their collective bonces. That was what they wanted us to do, they just encouraged us to do that, and it was very successful. It just sort of happened."
Clapton: "We were told by Bill Graham that we could play anything we liked for as long as we liked, even if this meant playing til dawn... We soon realized that no one could see us because they were projecting light shows onto the band, so that we were actually in the light show. It was very liberating. We could just play our hearts out, without inhibition, knowing that the audience was more into whatever scenery was being projected onto the screen behind us. I'm sure a good deal of them were out of their heads...but it didn't matter. They were listening, and that encouraged us to go places we'd never been before. We started doing extended solos, and were soon playing fewer and fewer songs, but for much longer. We'd go off in our own directions, then hit these coincidental points in the music when we would all arrive at the same conclusion...and we would jam on it for a little while and then go back into our own thing. I had never experienced anything like it. It had nothing to do with lyrics or ideas; it was much deeper, purely musical. We were at our peak during that period."
There's an exciting audience tape from their last Fillmore show on September 3 - among other songs, Sweet Wine now has a great freeform jam, and the Spoonful features an incredible droning-raga solo from Clapton (perhaps influenced by Michael Bloomfield's East/West solos).
Clapton was excited at first by SF audiences, saying that September: "In San Francisco there is more encouragement and less competition from musician to musician.... San Francisco has about the best audience anywhere... Every little note you play is being noticed, being devoured... You know you have to do it right."
But Cream shared a low estimate of the local music scene in San Francisco. As Ginger Baker said, "Maybe they were surprised to find out we could play our instruments? There are some very good groups out there - the Electric Flag and the Butterfield band."
Clapton had the same opinion: "As much as I saw of the bands that were killing them there - I mean Big Brother and the Jefferson Airplane - I was very unimpressed." The only thing he liked was Butterfield's blues band ("fantastic") and Electric Flag ("just the heaviest thing around, an incredible band"). (Bloomfield, in return, seems to have been quite frightened by Clapton's playing.)
Jack Bruce also disliked California bands: "They were crap. All those bands - none of them were any good, they were all so many weekend hippies. Not so much the Grateful Dead, I never saw the Dead at that time, but all those other bands....the Doors, crap."
Clapton mentions that even before he went to California, "I was actually pretty contemptuous of the West Coast rock & roll scene.... I thought they sounded pretty second-rate. I liked the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield, and I had heard a great album by Moby Grape, but I had never seen them play live. Basically, I thought most of the so-called psychedelic stuff that people were talking about was pretty dull."
(Michael Bloomfield also had a harsh opinion of the local scene, saying in early 1968: "I think San Francisco music isn't good music, not good bands. They're amateur cats... I don't dig Good Morning Little Schoolgirl by the Grateful Dead. I don't Pigpen trying to sing blues; it don't sound like blues. It sounds like some white kid trying to sing blues. It drags me; they're not funky. They don't have a good beat....it's not the real shit and it's not even a good imitation. It's not even like the Stones. I don't dig the Airplane - I think they're a third-rate rock & roll band. I don't dig Country Joe & the Fish - I find them an abomination, a fraud perpetuated on people. I don't dig Big Brother - I dig Janis, but I think Big Brother is just a wretched, lame group of cats who she carries for no reason at all." It's worth noting that fellow Butterfield Band guitarist Elvin Bishop was much more positive about the Dead...)
Keep in mind that the members of Cream were 'grizzled veterans' of the UK club circuit - they'd been considered masters of their instruments back in '64 when folks like Jorma and Jerry were plunking away in acoustic coffeehouses - and as professionals, they may have been taken aback by the shambolic amateurism of San Francisco's psychedelic music. (Jack Bruce didn't like Pink Floyd, either, though Clapton did.)
In September '67, Clapton mentioned one surprise in San Francisco: "The first thing that hit me really hard was that the Grateful Dead were playing a lot of gigs for free. That very much moved me. I'd never heard of anyone doing that before."
Cream didn't see the Dead live, though. At some point Clapton heard the Dead's first album, but didn't have a positive reaction. "I don't think the quality of their music is as high as a lot of other good recording bands. People are more concerned with live music, maybe, than recording. If the Grateful Dead are one of the best, they're not doing a very good job on recording....they're not really my bag."
Of course, Clapton being a blues fanatic, he was going to be most impressed by the American blues bands - he seemed to have the idea that straight blues artists should be much more popular. "I was shocked at how many people weren't aware of what they had on their doorstep."
He somehow got the mistaken idea that local bands were unaware of the blues, and that Cream's blues-based repertoire was quite new to these audiences. "There weren't many bands doing what Cream did... Even though there were the Grateful Dead, and the Jefferson Airplane and Big Brother and all that, they were kind of playing pop music. They weren't relating to their roots too well. They were trying to get away from it all. What we were doing, basically, was bringing their music back home and showing it to them for the first time." (Hearing Cream's version of the "blues", it's hard to know what he's talking about!)
At the same time, he was quite impressed by American radio. "You could be in a car and tune the radio to a country music station, a jazz station, a rock station, a blues station, or an oldies rock station. The categorization was so wide, there seemed to be room for anyone... When I came home, it seemed in England there wasn't really room for more than one person to be popular at a time." (Jack Bruce was also surprised to hear FM stations playing entire albums - "that was great, that was a nice thing to do.")
As a result of their Fillmore experience, Cream's sets changed - rather than playing short sets of blues covers & some original pop songs, now they played just a few old songs with 10-20 minute jams everywhere. The songs themselves were now irrelevant. (Tapes of their American tour show the jams becoming ever lengthier and more explosive after the Fillmore run.)
Clapton said in October '67: "We don't do anything straight. We're into music much more now, as much as jazz musicians are. There are no arrangements, except for arrival and departure points. Sometimes, we just play free for half an hour."
Baker (also that October): "We are getting further out in playing different things every night. We even did the same number twice some nights, and the versions were so different we got away with it."
Clapton: "The idea is to get so far away from the original line that you're playing something that's never been heard before."
One thing Cream prided themselves on was that, as Bruce said, "Any instrument could be the lead instrument." They were not playing jams in the 'psychedelic' sense, but more as virtuosos, all of them taking simultaneous leads. The idea was to bring an improvisational jazz sensibility into loud rock music. Clapton himself was not so much into jazz; but Baker and Bruce both came from jazz backgrounds and considered live Cream to be a jazz band. "We just didn't tell Eric!"
Clapton spoke recently about the jazz influence: "The atmosphere and spontaneity, the creativity of it, was what we drew from when we got onstage in Cream, a lot of [our] freeform stuff, although it was still pretty limited in its tonality. Everything I was playing was only coming from the blues scale, and moving out of blues & rock phrasing. But the intention was to try and escape that. A lot of that came out of the listening I did to early Coltrane."
To a Dead-attuned listener, Cream shows were quite noisy, even by the standards of '68 Dead - full of shouting, power chords, heavy rock songs. Cream liked to keep the music at a deafening high pitch, rarely slackening the intense onslaught for quiet moments. Although they were fans of Chicago blues, their blues covers tended to be unrecognizable. Their jams may seem static compared to the Dead's, in that there's not much direction, no progression of moods, no transitions between songs, little feeling of a cosmic journey culminating in a climax, and absolutely no spaciness - there's just straight-out jamming, then suddenly an unrelated song reappears.
The Dead at the time, though (late '67), were not yet so utterly different in their approach, and were still working out their own improvisational techniques. Their shows of that year are full of energy, even frantic, and they're happy to turn up the noise, though they're friendlier at heart than Cream. They were also turning blues covers into a new kind of rock music, with emphasis on the instrumental interplay. There is a definite kinship between, say, their Viola Lee Blues and Cream's I'm So Glad. (The one song both bands had in common, Sittin' on Top of the World, shared no resemblance! But it's so easy to imagine what a Dead Spoonful might have been like with Pigpen...)
The Dead started jamming from a different perspective - as skilled amateurs, learning their instruments together, trying to fuse band & audience in a transportational acid-fried music, encouraged by other like-minded bands around them. Highly ambitious, in those days they always had a goal of what the music should be like, and were constantly self-improving. Cream was more aloof, torn by bickering and loss of harmony, and somewhat lacking in goals - they were lucky to find a sympathetic producer in the studio; but onstage, once they got tired of the new improv-heavy format, they were stuck and had no idea how to change or get out, except to quit.
Cream had a huge impact on people who saw them. Today, when they're considered "classic rock" predecessors to even noisier bands like Led Zeppelin, it's easy to forget that their first audiences were blown away by a kind of playing they'd never seen before - even in a city that already had its share of jam-bands. (Cream attracted a much bigger audience in their few months of US touring, and more tapers in the audience, than the Dead had in their first four years!)
I'll be quoting some audience reactions at the end, but for now I'll mention that many new listeners were so amazed they came back repeatedly to see Cream as often as they could. One fan remembers, "Most of the audience there that night was local people who had seen Cream the night before, perhaps even the previous weekend as well. This was in San Francisco - these were people who saw the best bands in the world, and they were really excited. The charged atmosphere at a Cream concert was unique in my experience."
Another witness of the first Fillmore run: "The Bay Area bands who were hot at the time were (including the sacred Dead) a joke in comparison. I heard them, I think, for 3 or 4 nights in a row, caught all the sets, and each night was better than the last. You could almost see the guys hit their stride as the nights went on, getting tighter and tighter and more experimental at the same time."
As Blair Jackson says, "The group's long, noisy, distorted jams made most bands sound positively mousy in comparison, and there's no question that the Dead and the Airplane were impressed by the volume and intensity of Cream's live assault."
Jorma Kaukonen: "When I saw Cream for the first time, I thought they were the most incredible performing band I had ever seen in my life. That might still be true. As a guitar player, I wanted to be able to do stuff like that." Seeing Cream inspired the Airplane to delve further into long improvisations. As Jorma says, "It was a growth period. I was starting to use multiple amplifiers. There were different kinds of fuzztones and the wah-wah pedal....you hear a wah-wah and you're thinking Cream."
Marty Balin: "We'd been playing the songs the same way for about a year, and then one night Jorma just took off. He started playing amazingly, just real free. We realized that once everybody knew the arrangement you could just take off like that... Pretty soon we got to a place where the music was playing us, we weren't playing it."
Jack Casady: "Probably the single most important event was when Eric Clapton came over with Cream and played the Fillmore. That and Jimi Hendrix electrified every musician as far as playing in a rock band that would just peel paint off the walls. Everybody got louder and harder and tougher after that."
(Of course, the Airplane had already been getting heavier with things like the feedback-drenched Ballad of You & Me & Pooneil before they saw Cream.)
Owsley also went to lots of Cream's shows. Clapton: "He showed up at all our gigs... We did a lot of acid, took a lot of trips.... I don't know how many times we tried to play while using acid, but there were a few... I don't really know how I got through it, because I didn't know if my hands were working, what the guitar was, or even what it was made of..."
Even Jerry Garcia was impressed by the power-trio format: "Me and Jack Casady and Mickey were gonna form a power trio one day... We actually got together one afternoon... We ended up with a tape that was about two and a half hours.... We could kick some ass...but it just sort of petered out."
Cream themselves were very surprised by their enthusiastic American reception.
Clapton said during the tour: "We seem to be a lot more popular here than I had imagined. I heard that we'd been heard of through the underground thing. Yet I really didn't imagine that we'd be this popular, or that we'd be accepted as readily as we were, because an American band like Butterfield can go to England now, and just die at all the places."
Bruce said in January '68: "It amazes me how well known we are [in America]. It is an underground thing." He had plans for the next album - "If the record company will let us, we'd like to make it a double album...one would contain the tracks we are working on now, the other would be an album recorded live at the Fillmore."
Soon after Cream left the Fillmore in September '67, they decided to record a live album there. They'd wanted to record a live album for some time, realizing that their studio recordings were never going to capture their live power; and they all agreed they played best at the Fillmore.
Bruce: "Cream was like two bands: there was a studio band, where we had the ability to overdub, and there was the live band. Some of the things worked very well live, but some things were very difficult to realize live with only three people." There was a huge gap between studio Cream and live Cream. In the studio they got to experiment with strange little songs, but didn't do the extended improvisations they'd become known for; and on the stage, they virtually ignored all the new songs they were recording, sticking mostly to a few jammed-out tunes they'd been doing since '66.
Cream played another 10-day run at the Fillmore & Winterland at the beginning of March '68, recording several shows for their next album. Unfortunately, by March '68 they were already burning out - on top of which they may have 'played it safe' when being recorded.
Bruce: "The best of Cream live was never captured on record. We were at our peak when we did our first big American tour [but by the recording] we had slipped over the peak." "It was pretty representative of the band on an average night, but not on one of the nights when we really took off - like the very early Fillmore gigs."
Most of the official live Cream recordings come from the Winterland shows on March 8-10. (As it turned out, their selection for the Wheels of Fire live album was diabolical, one side entirely taken up by harmonica & drum solos - perhaps a combination of LP time limits & band politics - but more songs were released on a couple 'posthumous' live albums. Unfortunately, the unreleased shows were then burned up in a vault fire.) There was even a BBC film crew filming some of the San Francisco shows - a few snippets were used in the "All My Loving" rock documentary, but all outtakes of course were junked by the BBC.
From March 10 '68, here's a picture of Clapton & Garcia, taken in Sausalito:
http://www.dead.net/features/jerry-garcia-eric-clapton-pose
Cream and the Dead played one show together after Cream's Winterland run - March 11, 1968, in Sacramento. Here's the poster:
http://www.deadlists.com/posters/1960s/19680311.html
Apparently, Tom Constanten (on leave from the air force) also joined the Dead for this show! The Dead opened for Cream (being much less popular at the time), so they may have played a shortened set. Their setlist is said to be: Cryptical>Other One>Cryptical>New Potato Caboose>Born Cross-Eyed>Caution Jam. McNally says in his bio, "After a brilliant Dead set, Cream came out to top them and attacked their instruments so hard they blew out their speakers; the Dead had to lend them equipment to get through the show."
This must have been quite an evening - listen to Cream's Winterland recordings of March 8-10, and the Dead's shows of March 16/17, and you can imagine the noisy night in Sacramento!
There's a story that after Garcia and Hart saw Cream, Hart said, "This is the best band in the world!" Garcia replied, "They are tonight."
I don't know what Cream made of the Dead, though I remember seeing a comment by Clapton that they spent a long time struggling to get a good sound....
There was an interview (which I can't find now) where Clapton said the Dead had a lot of skill but no idea what to do with it - a common complaint in those days. On the other hand, as an older guy in '97 he said, "I would have loved to have played with them actually. That would have been great fun, just to pick up some of that vibe and figure it out."
Later on, of course, the Dead became an institution, inspiring a whole jam-band scene. Cream are perhaps more often remembered as early burnouts on the road to heavy metal, or as a brief bright spot in Clapton's checkered career. So it may be worth gathering a few quotes from people who saw them at the time, to understand why they were an instant success in the US and Wheels of Fire became one of the biggest albums of '68. (Remember that when they were recording shows, Clapton had to turn down his volume for the microphones to cope, which seriously changed the band's sound on the live albums.)
"I was immobilized. I couldn't believe the power of their music. It was revelatory, thunderous and overwhelming."
"Eric was a revelation, as was the band as a whole. Nobody had ever graced that stage with such power and musicianship and originality. Eric especially created spellbinding solos that seemed to ebb and flow - his tone, touch and sheer inventiveness took your breath away."
"At the end, I was completely drained of emotion. It didn't seem humanly possible for anyone to play that well, with such intensity, technical clarity, lyricism, and emotion. It was the closest thing in my life that approached a religious experience. I have never again heard anything that sounded so good, or which drilled right through you, as Clapton's SG played through Marshall stacks."
"I was grabbed by the sheer sound pressure, like being pinned up against the wall by volume, and the sound of Clapton's guitar. He was playing an SG, and he made a sound I had never heard before, like a cross between a violin and a guitar."
"Cream was very loud. I was astonished at the volume. I had the Fresh Cream album, and had read articles about what Cream did 'live', and I just had to go. I was still not prepared. They were astonishing, and completely different from any other band I had heard. They just roared. I just recall being flat-out blown away by the intensity of the whole show. The atmosphere before the show was electric with anticipation--everybody was so excited, in a state of high suspense, just waiting for Cream to start. Everyone expected something incredible to happen when Cream took the stage, and they got it."
"I will never forget the awesome power and thrilling musical high of that performance. My reaction was one of shock, first of all just hearing a guitar that massive and loud to the extent of almost vibrating your spinal column! Clapton's notes absolutely resonated through your entire body and when he hit those high register notes, they had a sound that has never been reproduced by any recording. They soared high in the air, and when he would bend a high note, it felt as if you were flying it was so intense."
"I was overwhelmed, by the power/volume and force they projected. Eric played so LOUD, I could barely hear anything else. After we left the concert arena all of us were in awe. For weeks after the show all we did was play Wheels of Fire and reflect on what we had witnessed."
These stories, and lots more, can be found at the best Cream website: http://gpatt.customer.netspace.net.au/cream/contents.htm
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