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Without new technology this site would never have come into being. The idea for the GDLG came in response to what I felt were drawbacks and roadblocks born from the benefits associated with our new digital age bringing all Dead shows to our fingertips. It becomes an interestingly blurry distinction, or perhaps more so, an uroboros-like connotation, which leaves it hard to call the technology outright bad, or good. Without its drawbacks, I would not have found an avenue into the pleasure of my own creative output here. We wouldn’t have all the Dead shows online if not for the dedication of a well connected community, and we wouldn’t have seen the entire face of our trading community turned on its ear if not for the music having made it online. One has fed the other, and back again.

That said, there is also new communication technology springing up all the time. On the surface it can seem to only complicate the angles from which we get our information. But the Internet world is one of constant change. One’s existence online has become far more than a single webpage. Groups, companies, and people now have a “web presence,” and this spreads across multiple platforms and communication channels – I beg your pardon. That’s my “day job” persona talking.

I know some of you are already “fans” of the GDLG blog page on Facebook, and I’d encourage and welcome any Facebook users here to pop on over and join the group there – not that there’s anything particularly unique happening on that page. I keep waiting for Facebook to improve the usefulness of the blog pages in general. Regardless, I’d love to keep building the community there. Come on by and become a fan.

The jury may still be out on how good or bad all of these Social Networks are, but they are here just the same. Take Twitter. Good? Bad? I have no clue. My gut reaction is that it’s as much an intrusive little bother into the flow my day, as it is a unique way to keep up with people I know. And in the spirit of accepting new technology as having as much potential for good as bad, I’ve launched a DeadlListening specific Twitter account.

Do you tweet? Whether that question is completely baffling to you or not, why not stop by and consider following the GDLG on Twitter? And to be sure, not following DeadListening on Twitter will not leave you out of any loop. As you’ll see from the most recent tweets, I’m not plumbing the deepest Grateful Dead wisdoms on Twitter. It’s just a slightly more personal (and decidedly less significant) way to keep in touch over the Internet tubes.

I look forward to seeing you, everywhere.

1978 February 3 - Dane County Coliseum

GRATEFUL DEAD
Friday, February 3, 1978
Dane County Coliseum – Madison, WI
Audience Recording

Early 1978 marks a wonderful peak in the career of the Grateful Dead. Many folks like to say that 1977 didn’t really wrap up until the end of the Jan-Feb run in ’78. I’m not one of them. 1977 can have its own 365 days. 1978 deserves the credit for its early section of musical mastery. Even with Garcia battling laryngitis early on in January (which only made him play more intensely while not being able to sing at all), the first tours of 1978 are worth exploring in detail.

Looking at another stretch of shows that makes choosing one to review nearly impossible (including yet another great run at the Uptown Theater in Chicago), I’ve come back to an old favorite tape for its somewhat subdued, yet wickedly potent dose of phenomenal Grateful Dead music – February 3, 1978. The Dane County Coliseum was some sort of ignition point for this band. It’s hard to find bad shows played at this venue. Featured on Dick’s Picks 18, the highlights from this night make this pick one everyone should own. To add color and perspective, there is also an AUD of this show to enjoy. It’s not what we’d call A quality, but it fully succeeds in delivering the full spectrum of the power that was happening on this night. The deeper the music goes, the more the quality of the listening experience improves, and the music goes quite deep, to be sure.

While it’s set two that will receive most of my focus, I can’t help but call attention to the first set’s closer, The Music Never Stopped. After revisiting it for this review, I can’t believe this one hasn’t always stuck in my brain as one of the best ever. How could I have forgotten this? Why don’t all Deadheads hold other versions of this song up to 2/3/78 to judge their worthiness? Do not pass it up when you pull out this tape for a listen. And then, you’ll want to get right to the meat of the second set…

Estimated Prophet > Eyes Of The World > Playin' In The Band > The Wheel > Playin' In The Band

Estimated Prophet expands like we’ve found a veiled entrance to an underground cavern of ancient, untouched mystery. Slowly torches reveal a labyrinth of loosely coiled passages, all reflecting a soft shimmering glow of prism hued light off of flickering flames. The music is soaked, cool and dark, with a hypnotic power that is hard to see coming. The evening’s concert has slowly begun to evaporate around you, and before you’ve even noticed the shift, it’s already nearly gone, leaving you quite powerless to defend the music’s insistent pursuit toward waking your soul to its siren call. By the time the music begins blending into a rolling and shifting landscape, sounding more like a mellow Other One and hinting at the Eyes to come, we have found that our pulse, breath, and complete attention have synced into a collective presence with the music. Effortlessly, the music dissolves the cavern’s wet rocky canopy into sunlight, as if small fissures are allowing starlight to pass through causing the walls to liquidly evaporate like steam, and slowly fade away.

Eyes Of The World brings with it that buoyant joyfulness that gives off the distinct impression that the music is smiling broadly. Relaxed into the moment, Jerry rushes nothing. He runs through solo after solo, and just when you figure he’s stepping up to the microphone to sing, he flows back into another solo section, cart wheeling up mountain peaks again. In between each verse he triumphantly soars and delicately floats in a gorgeous interplay of sunlit peaks and valleys. Even at 16 minutes, the song seems to stretch out far longer, eventually leading up to the highpoint of the evening, Playin’ In The Band.

This Playin’>Wheel>Playin’ captures an enormous segment of quintessential Grateful Dead creativity, reaching well outside the bounds one can easily pin down as simply 1978 Dead. The Playin’ jam begins with Phil taking a relaxed solo over drums and whisper quiet instrumentation from the rest of the band. It’s as if the bass is strolling through a forest, gently kicking up swells of musical texture, like leaves in its wake. The haunting mystery of Estimated Prophet has returned to bring a hushed reverence to the musical experience. The band seems to be allowing their musical magic to reach its own deepest levels of inspiration. They force nothing, and the jamming that slowly begins taking form appears organically, as if born of the music itself, not from the individual members of the band. It courses into you, more than just music – the sweet magic of the Grateful Dead has fully opened its flower, its rich color and fragrance so strong as to wipe all other sensation away from your senses.

Formless grace seems the most apt description of the long jam that follows. Things aren’t veering aggressively away from the Playin’ theme, yet it has been left miles behind in the distance just the same. As this was the section of the band’s career which saw the formalization of Drums>Space as a fixture in the second set, it is worth noting that while the drummers reach a passage where they are musically calling for the rest of the band to give them room, it doesn’t happen. On the fingertips of small hand percussion the music continues to gently evolve into one intricate tapestry after another. Eventually, the musical beat slips away, as the band coxes the gentle grace into a shifting, tilting landscape of Space. Beware a somewhat brutal tape flip edit as this Space gets started. It’s a bump in the road that quickly passes and leaves you deeply immersed in a pulsing sea of light and color. Throughout this passage, The Wheel is hinting its way into being, and eventually we come out on the other side into the song proper.

The Wheel tends to always strike me as a pop song that someone dosed heavily with LSD, driving it into a realm beyond mere hallucinations to a pure resonance with all things – an awakened spiritual grace tinged with a quiet peaceful knowing. It wears psychedelia like a flowing garment on a body of spiritual serenity. That there is a real song going on binds this inner world quality with a more tangible form. The song’s lyrics and musical structure call us into the same pure church-like setting as Attics Of My Life, or Brokedown Palace. This is a song you often “attend” more so than simply hear. The exit jam embodies a pure distillation of the ocean of grace that has been going on for over a half hour now. It is absolute Grateful Dead music, undeniably marked with the personal expression of the collective musical muse underlying the band’s creative energy. Gently, and with the hands of a loving parent, the music settles us back into Playin’ In The Band, and the set wraps up there.

Like an ace up your sleeve, this show hides out of view for most folks as they draw from the deck of Grateful Dead music. It's a card worth playing time and time again. Enjoy.

02/03/78 AUD etree source info
02/03/78 AUD Download

GDLG-003 - The Jingle Bell Rainbow

Listening Session 003: Stepping directly into the Dead's magical fire for some hallmark vehicles of intense psychedelic wizardry from the history of Grateful Dead live recordings, complete with the occasional story and insight adding color along the way.

1970 Study – Musical Soul Expander

I’ve gone on record saying this before, but it’s worth repeating: While 1973 is generally my personal favorite year of Grateful Dead music, 1970 might truly be the best year of them all.

The year stands out for me because it is one of convergence – the unanimous kings of pure psychedelic mastery merging with their own soul stirring progress into consummate songwriting which calls to mind a certain timeless Americana/Folklore campfire intimacy. Rooted in 1969, when they first started folding this acoustic element into shows, it reveals the Dead as an even more multifaceted jewel than anyone could have imagined over the previous four years. The Grateful Dead were riding a wave of pure creativity in 1970 which saw them artfully playing well worn strings while also inventing new instruments at the same time.

An evening with the Grateful Dead was now something altogether epic, spanning the relaxed intimacy of an opening acoustic set, followed by the amped up Psychedelic Country twang of a New Riders Of The Purple Sage set (complete with Jerry on pedal steel and Mickey on drums), capped by the Electric Dead at full force. “Mama, mama, many worlds I’ve come since I first left home.”

With this multidimensional musical energy at full throttle, 1970 also seems to best encapsulate something of the real roots of the subculture documentation of the band’s musical history. Great swaths of the Dead’s output this year are missing from the Vault completely, due in no small part to soundman Owsley “Bear” Stanley ending up in jail (it was he who was so instrumental in all the shows being recorded from the beginning), and the loose and unsecured manner in which the band’s soundboard tapes were protectively archived (master reels had a way of “walking out” of the vault). As the luck of timing would have it, by 1970 the growth of the Dead’s fan base, and audience tapers along with them, meant that even while large chunks of the year were either going absent from the band’s personal archive, or never even making it in, many of the missing holes actually were documented in the organic archiving of the intrepid tapers of that day – the grandfathers of the Dead bootleg audience tape phenomena.

It is no understatement to say that a lot of the audience tapes from 1970 are God awful wrenching on the ears. And sometimes these recordings with the worst sound quality are all we have as a clouded, scratched, and muddied lens into some of the greatest Dead music of all time (check out 04/24/70 Mammoth Gardens sometime to get this point completely – brutal on the ears, yet possessing a Dark Star and Eleven to rival all others).

Defying the odds stacked up by the band’s challenge to record and preserve their own output, combined with the field recording challenges of the era, there are still soundboard and audience tapes from 1970 which serve as shining jewels in the band’s deserved crown. With regard to the audience tapes in particular, they are often all there is on tape from some amazingly pivotal moments in the Dead’s concert history. These aural documents are plentiful enough to bring ample joy to those tape collectors out there who recognize the glory of 1970 Grateful Dead, and whose ears are seasoned enough to be unencumbered by what those perhaps less initiated might find as barriers to the music itself.

No doubt, fully appreciating even the best AUDs of 1970 requires the listener to have traveled a bit down the road of AUD tapes in general. I often mention that an AUD tape can require a bit of time for one’s ear to acclimate – sometime a few minutes, or a song or two. When it comes to 1970, this acclimation process can take a good deal longer, and is not always measured by listening to a single tape. I know for myself, after getting a number of 1970 AUDs early on in my trading experience, it wasn’t until I had gone down a longer road of building an appreciation for audience tapes in general, and came back to these ‘70 tapes, that I found my ears completely open to the music on these recordings.

This apparent rite of passage makes the joy within this music somehow more precious and special – the known futility of thinking we could hand over what we feel are actually good sounding tapes like 06/24/70, or 05/07/70 to a person never before exposed to audience tapes and believe they would be able to fully circumvent the auditory barriers which block total access to the magic within. They can’t. And thus, shows like this takes on an air of existing in some inner circle, or some secret room within the halls of the Grateful Dead tape collector’s mansion. Many people can’t find the room, because they haven’t passed through the outer chambers yet. But, the journey has its rewards, and is worth all the trials one’s ears might face in making it in.

While it had its own roots in 1969, 1970 ushered in the model of musical journeying that embodied the Grateful Dead forever onward. While there is no denying the pure primal pleasure found in the intense uninterrupted psychedelia of the years before, it seems that when the Dead started to spread their wings and explore the accessibility of acoustic roots, their hypnotic connection to the universal musical soul expanded even further.

1970 November 6 - Capitol Theatre

GRATEFUL DEAD
NEW RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
Friday, November 6, 1970
Capitol Theatre – Port Chester, NY
Audience Recording
11/06/70 is one of those “no soundboard” tapes that all Deadheads have always placed in the Holy Grail category. We pine for the master soundboard reel to come on the scene (if it even exists at all). Considering the miraculous soundboards that have appeared out of the past in recent years, anything is possible. But far beyond the issue of the missing board, this show ranks as one of the best Dead performances of all time.

11/06/70 is another of the infamous “usher tapes.” Ken Leigh worked at the Capitol Theater, and was able to set up to record at the balcony rail. Like 06/24/70 and 11/08/70, this tape is pretty sublime, all 1970 caveats considered. The room ambience is quickly absorbed into your ear’s psyche, and before long you are feeling very much perched on the lip of the balcony, taking everything in.

From this date we have not only the entire show, but the soundcheck as well (a unique window into the pre-show Dead playing to an empty house in 1970). The acoustic set proper is steeped in that warm, relaxed, and inviting atmosphere so prevalent from this era. Here, by the end of 1970, the acoustic sets are somehow even more hypnotic than they were in the Spring. The audience is so receptive to the music, and it is clear that no one is in any hurry at all. Understandable, as this was the third time in 1970 that the band brought its circus to this venue. No one in the audience is worried by this point that their beloved psychedelic monster has been swapped out with some lazy, front porch sitting, good ol’ boys with acoustic guitars. Everyone is in it for the long, sweet ride.

Highlights from the acoustic set show up on nearly every song.

Don't Ease Me In, Deep Elem Blues, Dark Hollow, Friend Of The Devil, The Rub, Black Peter, El Paso, Brokedown Palace, Uncle John’s Band

For me, the slow rolling Black Peter is extremely satisfying. Garcia has us all sitting on his lap in rapt silence as he tells his tale. By the end of the set, with its lovely Uncle John’s Band closer, we are fully inducted into the relaxed personal space of the Dead’s musical universe.

From here, the air of intimacy, with its folksy, country vibe, is electrified by the New Riders Of The Purple Sage. The Riders music comes on, much like the undoubtedly electrified crowd, pulsing and throbbing under the twanging bounce of David Nelson’s finger picking, and Garcia’s siren-like hypnotic pedal steel playing; his notes sticking together like a liquid gossamer cotton candy of country-infused psychedelia. John “Marmaduke” Dawson’s vocal delivery on covers and his own compositions lends its own slightly twisted bent to everything as well.

The Riders wore psychedelic music like a subtle cologne or bandana under a hat. You wouldn’t know it was there upon first glance, but after a few passing songs, you would eventually see that all these multi-hued undertones were there the whole time. Syncopated, snaking downbeats, interweaving guitar licks and harmonies, and a pedal steel that seems to smile with a strobe light rainbow playful sort of knowing, all remain veiled within the trappings of some good old country rock music. The Riders packed a deep psychedelia into the cracks and crevices of their music, allowing it to permeate everything, occasionally casting it out into full view, and always using it to reach miles into the listener’s heart and soul.

Their set list on this evening is masterful:

Workin' Man Blues, I Don't Know You, Whatcha Gonna Do, Glendale Train, Portland Woman, Fair Chance to Know, All I Ever Wanted, Truck Drivin' Man, Lodi, Me and Bobby McGee, Louisiana Lady, The Weight, Honky Tonk Woman

They deliver everything beautifully, and Jerry’s steel playing is gorgeous throughout. You can easily get lost in Portland Woman, All I Even Wanted, and The Weight. And the infectious Whatcha Gonna Do, Lodi, and Louisiana Lady are each stellar.

Then comes the electric Dead set. It’s as if some enormous octopus of boiling energy has invaded the theater. The band opens with Casey Jones, and the crowd comes instantly alive; the Dead strutting along with gusto.

Casey Jones, Me & My Uncle, King Bee, China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider, Truckin’, Candyman, Sugar Magnolia

One of my favorite passages of this front portion of the electric set is the China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider. This song pairing rides the borderline between the Psychedelic beast and the Americana/Folklore energy beautifully. China Cat, with its carnival wheel turning spokes flashing colored lights and bubbles, twists and turns its way through the air. All of the instruments sound wonderful. Bobby’s guitar flashes, Phil’s bass rumbles, and Garcia is riding his white hot beam of thick jeweled tone, so typical of 1970. The interweaving patterns slowly work their way into more formal paths as they angle into I Know You Rider, and the music lifts itself on the back of Jerry’s solo into one joyous passage after another. We can feel the audience lock into the energy, and that unmistakable urge to smile washes over us as Jerry rides the beam again. By the end of Rider, the spell is fully cast. The lines between the crowd and audience are blurred. The entire family steps up and marches directly into Truckin’. And a little while later into the set, things just keep getting better.

The show closes out with a titanic portion of brilliant Grateful Dead music:

Good Lovin’ > Drums > The Main Ten > Drums > Good Lovin’, Alligator > Drums > NFA > GDTRFB > Mountain Jam > NFA > Caution > Lovelight

Good Lovin’ finds the band’s true leader, Pigpen, stepping into the spotlight. They quickly kick their way through the tight, infectious cover and head into a drum solo. The thunderous rhythms cool way down and things simmer into The Main Ten. The beautiful roots of Playin’ In The Band’s theme stretch back a ways before the actual song was ever introduced into the rotation. Called The Main Ten, based in no small part, I’m sure, on its ten beat measure, this wonderful little theme gets explored in 1970 from time to time, and here it works like a drug seeping into our bloodstream. It takes us down an unexpected path of blissful, haunting grace. While it never quite blossoms into a full on improvisational jam, the Dead work the theme as a potter might sculpt clay on a wheel. Gentle caresses embrace the theme, slowly forming it into a more and more structured thing of beauty. It is short lived here on 11/06/70, but hypnotic all the same. As mysteriously as it appeared, it is gone, back into Drums on the way back to Good Lovin’. The end portion of Good Lovin’ is full of that sweaty, sultry confidence that the Dead wore so well in 1970. The jam crackles along as Garcia reaches for the sun and explodes in a shower of electricity and raw power.

Alligator sets the band down the long home stretch of this show. It flares with a swampy, dark, voodoo heat. The jam following the formal song section calls to hidden shadowed magic. It winds its way down long liquid rivers which eventually form into beautiful and gentle melodies, the entire electric beast showing that it can hold a delicate flower without completely consuming it in fire. But the fire is there, nonetheless, and that smoky, sultry voodoo dance slips directly into Not Fade Away, with the band igniting again.

Not Fade Away > Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad > Not Fade Away is still a very new thing for the Dead at this stage of 1970. But just as we could feel the absolute perfection of the pairing back on 10/23/70, here it is even more fully locked into an archetypical example of the Grateful Dead’s own personal sound. Goin’ Down The Road keys right back into that Americana/Folklore we found earlier in I Know You Rider. And it is this wonderful juxtaposition of elements – folk against voodoo fire – that reflect the entire evening’s performance, and in fact, the entire nature of the band by the end of 1970. The multi-facetted jewel is ever turning in on itself. When Goin’ Down The Road slides into a Mountain Jam (built off of Donovan’s “There Is A Mountain”), the music takes on a certain level of spiritual beauty as it flows forward. It careens into a near shower of complete Feedback, as if the band knows that Caution is coming, but then remembers that they planned to wrap back into Not Fade Away. It’s a wonderful little passage. NFA returns, finishes up, and then the pure heart of the Grateful Dead steps out of the mist and tears down all barriers between the music and the souls in attendance.

Caution rises and demonstrates what can be considered one of the deepest levels of this band’s musical core. Forever, the Dead were using psychedelia pinned to bluegrass as one of their most elemental launching pads into their own true nature – a place where their guiding muse could take over and freely express itself. It is this thematic undercurrent, and another which was born in Dark Star, that display the ultimate power that this band’s music had over itself, and the fans in attendance. This is yet again a pure Grateful Dead church service; though this ceremony is one of wild, primitive power. For the rest of the show there is an endless tug of war between music and the molten hot, liquid chaos of Feedback singing the song of galaxies being born out of exploding stars. Spiraling fractals come and go while the music plays down to its own base building blocks with Pigpen playing wicked harmonica and the drummers shuffling along. Primal Dead at its finest.

When Pigpen finally announces that all you need is “just a touch,” the world folds in on itself, whipping us into unfathomable wormholes, the universe birthing chaos and completely consuming the music altogether. We are spit out on the other side into an even faster dance between structure and madness until knowing one from the other is hopeless. The battle continues for what feels like centuries, with Garcia’s personal being growing to fill every open space of air in the hall. Down to a whisper, Phil flips the switch over to Lovelight, and for the next 17 odd minutes the entire evening peaks continually while the wheel continues to turn, blurring form and chaos into one.

Like a freight train, this Lovelight powers down the track. Containing Pigpen’s famous “Bear Rap” and wonderful peaks and valleys throughout, the band seems to endlessly catch themselves in whirlpools of musical riffs turning in tight circles, stitching intricate colors together into a tapestry. With a final flourish of searing flame and showering starlight it all finally ends. Utterly spent, it is hard not to come away unchanged from this quintessential Grateful Dead show from 1970.

11/06/70 etree source info
11/06/70 AUD Download

Listening Trail - 1980's Grateful Dead

Another installment in the GDLG Listening Trails Series

Any fan who begins travelling down the road of Grateful Dead concert tapes will often find the 60’s and 70’s to be the most open entry points. It makes sense since this band was famous for being a pioneer of the “psychedelic 60’s sound,” and then a stadium-rock titan that played 3 plus hour shows of cosmic exploration in the 70’s. For those folks exposed only to this elevator pitch story of the band’s history, the 80’s mark some sort of black hole from which nothing emerged until Touch Of Grey got into Billboard’s top ten in 1987, and of course the 90’s were a time when everyone and their brother were into the Dead (and we all attended the “last show” in Chicago – at least that’s what everyone around Chicago retells when discussing where they were that day).

Eventually, any tape collector will notice the 80’s out of the corner of his/her eye, and ponder traversing this most nearly blind alley of the band’s concert history. Sure, there are many of us who first started seeing the Dead in the 80’s, and we feel a special fondness for those personal times. But considering the band’s output and historical significance in the 60’s and 70’s , the early 80’s just don’t stand out. It is important to note that this mass assumption is entirely misguided.

Even at this point, arriving at the Grateful Dead Listening Guide and trying to “figure out” the 80’s can be a cauldron of confusion. There are already enough shows from this period on the site to easily consume the better part of a month trying to digest them all, and more keep coming all the time. Where on earth should one start? I feel a listening trail devoted to jumping into the first half of this decade is well worth it, as the highpoints from this era are not to be missed.

Here are some no brainers as far as I am concerned. Start anywhere and take them one step at a time. There’s plenty to soak in at each stop along the way. After this, you should take comfort in the fact that nothing shows up on the Listening Guide by chance, and every show you stumble across (80’s included) is well worth your ears time. Just gotta poke around…

Please follow the links below to fully enjoy this Listening Trail.

09/17/82 – With strong highlights throughout the show, and a second set that begs repeated listening, this is oddly one of those tapes you might not otherwise stumble across until you had gone a good number of years into the world of tape trading. A stellar introduction into why the early 80’s are so worth checking out.

06/21/80 – 1980 is a year so often missed when considering this decade, let alone the Dead in general. Proving that the evolving musical style of the band was firing on all cylinders, even in a truly transitional year, this show from Alaska rivals most any comers.

06/30/84 – Lauded as containing some of the best music from all of 1984, this show will serve very well to demonstrate how explorative the band was during this somehow forgotten era. Generally, we think of Garcia spiraling down a slope of drugs and physical decline in ‘84. That makes the magic pouring out of this show’s highlights even more special to behold.

02/26/81 – It may as well be plastered on bumper stickers – “There was never a bad Uptown show.” Things are so good on this night, it renders that phrase a nearly catastrophic understatement. This is the 80’s cranked to eleven.

06/30/85 – We can’t talk about the 80’s without paying at least some attention to a year many people feel was the peak of the entire decade. This show finds the band reaching some skyrocketing highlights in an already pretty elevated year. Don’t miss it.