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live Grateful Dead (2 Viewers)
- Thread starter tommyboy
- Start date
grateful zed
Footballguy
Rhythmdoctor
Footballguy
I’ll be camping at Deer Creek if any of you wanna jam some music!
pantherclub
Footballguy
Apple Jack
Footballguy
Jfc the Healy ultra-matrix mixes are still the gold standard in live sound. So so luscious.
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
Rhythmdoctor
Footballguy
Gonna get sloppy at Wrigley tonight! Still gonna go crazy on some boomers tho.
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
Rhythmdoctor
Footballguy
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
Saturday was definitely best show of the tour IMO. Hopefully it'll be on Relisten by tomorrow.
@Rhythmdoctor Sorry we couldn't connect. Friday night post-show was a blur and I was I exhausted last night.
@Rhythmdoctor Sorry we couldn't connect. Friday night post-show was a blur and I was I exhausted last night.
CGRdrJoe
Footballguy
Terrapin will be live streaming tonight's Stu Allen and mars hotel show, starts at 8 pst. Bummed it sold out before I could get a ticket but at least I can listen and watch for free!
https://nugs.tv/free/?showID=108
fatness
Footballguy
Me too, recently, maybe half a year ago. I lost all their albums I had on vinyl (gave to Goodwill store) and always kinda liked them but nothing more. One day I heard Ripple 6 months ago or so and I realized it's the only song about god that I can stand listening to. And it hit me that I hadn't listened to some good music in awhile.
Since then I bought (and listened to repeatedly) Workingman's Dead, American Beauty, Skull & Roses, Europe '72, Wake of the Flood, Reckoning, Dead Set. I forgot or never knew how good they actually were. American Beauty is the most beautiful album ever, period -- the only 2 songs I want at my memorial service are Ripple and Brokedown Palace. Reckoning has some of the most beaurtiful off-key-but-wonderful choral vocals ever, Skull & Roses has 4 excellent cover songs plus Bertha and Big Railroad Blues, and Wake of the Flood is just eye- and ear-opening in how good they were becoming.
So then I started listening to live concert recordings. I have 2 or 3 or 4 now and only listen when I'm driving. Cornell '77 may be the best driving album ever if you have 3 hours ahead of you.
Let us now sing Row Jimmy.
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
fatness
Footballguy
grateful zed
Footballguy
friends went to msg, waiting on report.
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
Apple Jack
Footballguy
fatness said:
fatness
Footballguy
Apple Jack
Footballguy
TobiasFunke
Footballguy
I read about this a few days ago, and so Saturday night around 10 PM when I was good and lit and the wife had fallen asleep early, I put it on. Lo and behold, all three of my children (ages 7, 6 and 4) come strolling into the room to cuddle. Apparently they had been staying up late in the oldest kid's room and couldn't fall sleep. Rather than pause the video, I decided to let it ride.
They LOVED it. Couldn't get enough. Totally transfixed for the entire 15-20 minutes left in the video. They were mostly into the video footage of course, but they seemed to dig the tunes too. We've already watched it a second time in the light of day. One of my more enjoyable parenting experiences.
Apple Jack
Footballguy
John Mayer's forward to Secret Space Of Dreams by Jay Blakesberg
The Past, in Present Tense
I’m a good enough guitar player to know a great guitarist when I hear one, but I had to become an even better one to begin to understand the depth and complexity of Jerry Garcia’s playing. I’ve always said that musicians play like they are, and in the case of Garcia, his performances serve as a detailed map of a man, his intentions, his desires, and his impressions of the world around him. And going by that map, Garcia was a lovely, mighty soul. I never met him, and will never understand the loss of those who did, but the vast archive of his music amounts to the makings of a starry night sky that turns listeners into explorers.
Several years ago I set out not just to learn Garcia’s approach to the guitar and the songs he played, but to learn what about it has allowed millions of people who don’t play the guitar to key into it for hours on end. Soloing has been known since its inception as a kind of self-indulgent expression. Why, then, could so many listeners, myself included, listen to him do it endlessly without fatigue?
To best understand what makes Garcia’s guitar playing so unique, it helps to start with what it sidesteps: though it drew from blues and R&B, his guitar approach left a few traditional elements out of the equation, he didn’t play from that wellworn feral, sexual place that traditional blues music traded in, nor did he really touch the sinister aspects that were born into the idiom. Garcia didn’t sing about wanting to rock a young woman all night long, and any of his deals with the devil existed metaphorically as mere setbacks. (What’s 20 bucks, anyway?) These changes affect the fundamental color palette of the storytelling. I’m not sure the sun ever rises in Chicago blues music, but in the musical storytelling of Garcia and the Grateful Dead, it shines so bright it hurts.
On a more technical note, he played most often in a major blues scale, which added to this mix of innocence, and even joy. Minor blues notes lend themselves to the exquisiteness of pain, while major blues scales kind of explore the relief from it. Garcia played to relieve people of pain. That melodic innocence must have something to do with bringing so many people to their “happy place.” He wasn’t pulling notes
from an anguished place within, he was catching them with a butterfly net as they went flitting by overhead. On a tactile level, he held the guitar with grace. It wasn’t a weapon, it was a vehicle. He took it easy. He may have played fast, but he was thinking slow. And that makes us listen with a smile.
I put Jerry Garcia on the same level as Miles Davis and Bill Evans because of the intention in his performing; once you’ve learned all the notes, and the chords, and the bends and the runs, you come to the final frontier of playing which is the why of it all, and that’s where the power was and still is in his playing. He played from a real place, a place that faced out to the world, not for his own reception or gratification. He played for the joy of interacting with the band and with the music he loved. If you listen close enough to a musician, you can tell what they’re looking to get out of each and every note they make. Garcia, to me, was looking to bring music to life out of the tacit, sacred duty to use his gift.
Even after learning these things, they offer very little help in sounding anything like the man. That’s because he didn’t play anything stock or repetitive. There are no “signature Jerry Garcia solo riffs” as exist with so many revered guitarists. To “sound like Jerry,” you have to make people feel like he did, and well—good luck with that.
The real magic—the kind that will make the Grateful Dead music live forever—that’s in the way we carry it on in our hearts and minds. I don’t listen to Garcia and the band play—I watch it. I believe we all do, and that what we see is a blend of the music, the year in which it was played, the season and location of the show so as to understand the state of mind the band was in that night, that week, that presidency. We see it differently from one another the way we do our own dreams, but we all agree that our dreams contain these songs, and this band, those places and names.
And that’s how the Grateful Dead managed to freeze time. We discuss our favorite years in present tense; we say we just heard the best version of something last night as if that was the moment it first took place. Your favorite year of their music "wasn’t", it "is." And in that way, inside that beautiful dreamscape the band created, the Grateful Dead is still up there, still playing. And Jerry is right there in front of them, and time is held in place by those who refuse to let it fade, and even as we sleep, as long as one of us is listening, the band is still playing. We lose the ones we love, we pine for those who have left, and we lament the changes of modern times. But the makers of this music dug a tunnel, and it runs beneath time and space, and we, the ones who love it like family, crawl through to visit 1974, and 1969, and 1987 and 1990. If we were alive at the time the show took place, we see ourselves as the people we were in the lives we had, and if we weren’t born yet, we get to wistfully dream what it must have been like. We only get a few minutes on earth, and Jerry Garcia gave all his minutes so that we could forever visit his life and times through his playing, and let it unravel into a new kind of now.
The Past, in Present Tense
I’m a good enough guitar player to know a great guitarist when I hear one, but I had to become an even better one to begin to understand the depth and complexity of Jerry Garcia’s playing. I’ve always said that musicians play like they are, and in the case of Garcia, his performances serve as a detailed map of a man, his intentions, his desires, and his impressions of the world around him. And going by that map, Garcia was a lovely, mighty soul. I never met him, and will never understand the loss of those who did, but the vast archive of his music amounts to the makings of a starry night sky that turns listeners into explorers.
Several years ago I set out not just to learn Garcia’s approach to the guitar and the songs he played, but to learn what about it has allowed millions of people who don’t play the guitar to key into it for hours on end. Soloing has been known since its inception as a kind of self-indulgent expression. Why, then, could so many listeners, myself included, listen to him do it endlessly without fatigue?
To best understand what makes Garcia’s guitar playing so unique, it helps to start with what it sidesteps: though it drew from blues and R&B, his guitar approach left a few traditional elements out of the equation, he didn’t play from that wellworn feral, sexual place that traditional blues music traded in, nor did he really touch the sinister aspects that were born into the idiom. Garcia didn’t sing about wanting to rock a young woman all night long, and any of his deals with the devil existed metaphorically as mere setbacks. (What’s 20 bucks, anyway?) These changes affect the fundamental color palette of the storytelling. I’m not sure the sun ever rises in Chicago blues music, but in the musical storytelling of Garcia and the Grateful Dead, it shines so bright it hurts.
On a more technical note, he played most often in a major blues scale, which added to this mix of innocence, and even joy. Minor blues notes lend themselves to the exquisiteness of pain, while major blues scales kind of explore the relief from it. Garcia played to relieve people of pain. That melodic innocence must have something to do with bringing so many people to their “happy place.” He wasn’t pulling notes
from an anguished place within, he was catching them with a butterfly net as they went flitting by overhead. On a tactile level, he held the guitar with grace. It wasn’t a weapon, it was a vehicle. He took it easy. He may have played fast, but he was thinking slow. And that makes us listen with a smile.
I put Jerry Garcia on the same level as Miles Davis and Bill Evans because of the intention in his performing; once you’ve learned all the notes, and the chords, and the bends and the runs, you come to the final frontier of playing which is the why of it all, and that’s where the power was and still is in his playing. He played from a real place, a place that faced out to the world, not for his own reception or gratification. He played for the joy of interacting with the band and with the music he loved. If you listen close enough to a musician, you can tell what they’re looking to get out of each and every note they make. Garcia, to me, was looking to bring music to life out of the tacit, sacred duty to use his gift.
Even after learning these things, they offer very little help in sounding anything like the man. That’s because he didn’t play anything stock or repetitive. There are no “signature Jerry Garcia solo riffs” as exist with so many revered guitarists. To “sound like Jerry,” you have to make people feel like he did, and well—good luck with that.
The real magic—the kind that will make the Grateful Dead music live forever—that’s in the way we carry it on in our hearts and minds. I don’t listen to Garcia and the band play—I watch it. I believe we all do, and that what we see is a blend of the music, the year in which it was played, the season and location of the show so as to understand the state of mind the band was in that night, that week, that presidency. We see it differently from one another the way we do our own dreams, but we all agree that our dreams contain these songs, and this band, those places and names.
And that’s how the Grateful Dead managed to freeze time. We discuss our favorite years in present tense; we say we just heard the best version of something last night as if that was the moment it first took place. Your favorite year of their music "wasn’t", it "is." And in that way, inside that beautiful dreamscape the band created, the Grateful Dead is still up there, still playing. And Jerry is right there in front of them, and time is held in place by those who refuse to let it fade, and even as we sleep, as long as one of us is listening, the band is still playing. We lose the ones we love, we pine for those who have left, and we lament the changes of modern times. But the makers of this music dug a tunnel, and it runs beneath time and space, and we, the ones who love it like family, crawl through to visit 1974, and 1969, and 1987 and 1990. If we were alive at the time the show took place, we see ourselves as the people we were in the lives we had, and if we weren’t born yet, we get to wistfully dream what it must have been like. We only get a few minutes on earth, and Jerry Garcia gave all his minutes so that we could forever visit his life and times through his playing, and let it unravel into a new kind of now.
TobiasFunke
Footballguy
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
Doing Cincy. Also considering Blossom, but our schedule is already packed for July and early August.
Nipsey
Footballguy
Nugs.tv streaming Dead & Co shows for free on youtube every night. Austin 12/2/17 now.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CbILBtDzXM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CbILBtDzXM
Galileo
Footballguy
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
CGRdrJoe
Footballguy
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
Dude, I love Bob. I've seen Wolf Bros in concert. But there's a reason he's never been a lead guitarist.
rockaction
Footballguy
Not live, and apropos of nothing, but just because I got such a gosh darn kick out of listening, drafting, and writing this back during my alcohol days on 2016, here's a review of:
Grateful Dead – American Beauty – (1970)
Social consciousness is difficult to escape these days. Given today's climate, escape seems a desirable alternative to engagement. But figuring out the root cause of how we got here might mean merely chasing the original cause down the rabbit hole, naked and bare-assed for the world, struggling to fit in something not made for humans. That’s unsatisfactory. So how do we address the religiosity and rigidity of our sociopolitical state of mind, or much more importantly, how do we find the way around it -- down and off the beaten paths to La Honda, a little bit further, if you will? Holding hands with Garcia, Mountain Girl simply intones, and the rest follow her lead.
The Warner Brothers promo for this album states: “I’d like to tell you that [so-and-so left to follow the Dead and can be found skinny dipping at your local motel]. But you’re no fool. You’d complain. We'd get in trouble. And Jerry Garcia probably would get busted again.” Oh yes, you would. You’d complain. Or you’d shut the shades and smoke your smoke, secretly hoping she’d Phoebe Cates up in your door and lecture you for wanting her.
Or something.
So it’s a bit sexist and heteronormative for today's times, sure. It’s also paradoxically a bit communal in spirit – if only you saw the world as the Dead, then hell, we’d all be individualist democrats. And at heart, it really is one of the most mellow drink, ####, fight, throw your fists at God and former lovers album that ever could be recorded, guerilla-style but with an alluring gentility, as Americans always have been. Brash, gentle, individualist, contemplative about all three things. Ripple. Box of Rain. Truckin’. Candyman. Brokedown Palace. It tunes in, turns on, attempts to thoughtfully drop out.
So what happens when American Beauty and freedom meet the inevitable realities of politics and of life in general? Well, we deal with it in the way Americans have dealt with it since our original crossing. Water. What? Yes, water, that baptismal rite (this album is full of passages and travel; echoes of the frontiersman and settlers abound on it). There is also perspective and empiricism, and pantheism, of course, but for which we would not have hippie and transcendental movements. For better or worse, this album brims with Americanisms and high Americana, seeing religion through the lens of nature; seeking to address eternal questions through individual perspective and the brief understandings of the tangible and present; and the plain old good fun and heartbreak through the outlaw’s mind when the majority doesn’t suit him. It’s radical individualism, presented with a panache and flair that answers to nobody, and it is a singular achievement of the holdover ‘60s into the ‘70s. They may have made the acid illegal, but the flashbacks of what once could have been are here to stay. There isn’t a song on this album that isn’t memorable, doesn’t have a quote worthy of a passage of rite in life. It was made for yearbooks, if only it hadn't been done so often before. But if you're unafraid to be a bit redundant sometimes, you can leave others a pearl of wisdom of what your uncool self always wanted to be.
And did I mention it has the best album cover possibly ever put forth on a rock album, beautiful rosewood and a powder blue ambigram that also reads "American Reality?" Look closer, you'll see it. Don't dig deeper, just go beyond. Anyway, enough of that, here's the important stuff.
For natural wit and yearbook quotes everywhere (one from each song):
“It’s just a box of rain…wind and water. Believe it if you need it. If you don’t just pass it on…sun and shower, wind and rain, in and out the window like a moth before a flame…it’s just a box of rain, or a ribbon for your hair, such a long, long time to be gone, and short time to be there.” - Box Of Rain
“I ran down to the levee but the devil caught me there, He took my twenty dollar bill and he vanished in the air.” - Friend Of The Devil
“Sweet blossom come on, under the willow, we can have high times if you’ll abide. We can discover the wonders of nature, rolling in the rushes down by the riverside.” - Sugar Magnolia
“It’s floodin’ down in Texas, poles are out in Utah. Gotta find a private line.” - Operator
“Come on all you pretty women, with your hair a hanging down, open up your windows cuz the candyman’s in town…if you got a dollar boys, lay it on the line, hand me my old guitar, pass the whiskey round” - Candyman
“Ripple in still water, when there is no pebble tossed, nor wind to blow.” - Ripple
“In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside I will lay my head. Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul...sing a lullaby beside the water, lovers come and go, the river roll, roll, roll” - Brokedown Palace
“The shape it takes could be yours to choose…what you may win, what you may lose.” - Till The Morning Comes
“When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.” - Attics Of My Life
“Busted, down on on Bourbon Street, set up, like a bowlin’ pin…what a long, strange trip it’s been!” - Truckin'
"Fare you well my honey/fare you well my only true one/all the birds that were singing have flown except for you alone" - Brokedown Palace
Grateful Dead – American Beauty – (1970)
Social consciousness is difficult to escape these days. Given today's climate, escape seems a desirable alternative to engagement. But figuring out the root cause of how we got here might mean merely chasing the original cause down the rabbit hole, naked and bare-assed for the world, struggling to fit in something not made for humans. That’s unsatisfactory. So how do we address the religiosity and rigidity of our sociopolitical state of mind, or much more importantly, how do we find the way around it -- down and off the beaten paths to La Honda, a little bit further, if you will? Holding hands with Garcia, Mountain Girl simply intones, and the rest follow her lead.
The Warner Brothers promo for this album states: “I’d like to tell you that [so-and-so left to follow the Dead and can be found skinny dipping at your local motel]. But you’re no fool. You’d complain. We'd get in trouble. And Jerry Garcia probably would get busted again.” Oh yes, you would. You’d complain. Or you’d shut the shades and smoke your smoke, secretly hoping she’d Phoebe Cates up in your door and lecture you for wanting her.
Or something.
So it’s a bit sexist and heteronormative for today's times, sure. It’s also paradoxically a bit communal in spirit – if only you saw the world as the Dead, then hell, we’d all be individualist democrats. And at heart, it really is one of the most mellow drink, ####, fight, throw your fists at God and former lovers album that ever could be recorded, guerilla-style but with an alluring gentility, as Americans always have been. Brash, gentle, individualist, contemplative about all three things. Ripple. Box of Rain. Truckin’. Candyman. Brokedown Palace. It tunes in, turns on, attempts to thoughtfully drop out.
So what happens when American Beauty and freedom meet the inevitable realities of politics and of life in general? Well, we deal with it in the way Americans have dealt with it since our original crossing. Water. What? Yes, water, that baptismal rite (this album is full of passages and travel; echoes of the frontiersman and settlers abound on it). There is also perspective and empiricism, and pantheism, of course, but for which we would not have hippie and transcendental movements. For better or worse, this album brims with Americanisms and high Americana, seeing religion through the lens of nature; seeking to address eternal questions through individual perspective and the brief understandings of the tangible and present; and the plain old good fun and heartbreak through the outlaw’s mind when the majority doesn’t suit him. It’s radical individualism, presented with a panache and flair that answers to nobody, and it is a singular achievement of the holdover ‘60s into the ‘70s. They may have made the acid illegal, but the flashbacks of what once could have been are here to stay. There isn’t a song on this album that isn’t memorable, doesn’t have a quote worthy of a passage of rite in life. It was made for yearbooks, if only it hadn't been done so often before. But if you're unafraid to be a bit redundant sometimes, you can leave others a pearl of wisdom of what your uncool self always wanted to be.
And did I mention it has the best album cover possibly ever put forth on a rock album, beautiful rosewood and a powder blue ambigram that also reads "American Reality?" Look closer, you'll see it. Don't dig deeper, just go beyond. Anyway, enough of that, here's the important stuff.
For natural wit and yearbook quotes everywhere (one from each song):
“It’s just a box of rain…wind and water. Believe it if you need it. If you don’t just pass it on…sun and shower, wind and rain, in and out the window like a moth before a flame…it’s just a box of rain, or a ribbon for your hair, such a long, long time to be gone, and short time to be there.” - Box Of Rain
“I ran down to the levee but the devil caught me there, He took my twenty dollar bill and he vanished in the air.” - Friend Of The Devil
“Sweet blossom come on, under the willow, we can have high times if you’ll abide. We can discover the wonders of nature, rolling in the rushes down by the riverside.” - Sugar Magnolia
“It’s floodin’ down in Texas, poles are out in Utah. Gotta find a private line.” - Operator
“Come on all you pretty women, with your hair a hanging down, open up your windows cuz the candyman’s in town…if you got a dollar boys, lay it on the line, hand me my old guitar, pass the whiskey round” - Candyman
“Ripple in still water, when there is no pebble tossed, nor wind to blow.” - Ripple
“In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside I will lay my head. Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul...sing a lullaby beside the water, lovers come and go, the river roll, roll, roll” - Brokedown Palace
“The shape it takes could be yours to choose…what you may win, what you may lose.” - Till The Morning Comes
“When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.” - Attics Of My Life
“Busted, down on on Bourbon Street, set up, like a bowlin’ pin…what a long, strange trip it’s been!” - Truckin'
"Fare you well my honey/fare you well my only true one/all the birds that were singing have flown except for you alone" - Brokedown Palace
Last edited by a moderator:
rockaction
Footballguy
That's great. There's a lot of pit stops and leaving in the Dead. A lot of asking not to be remembered as anything but traveling through. A lot of travel, as it were. How hard for such a memorable bunch of musicians, though, to ask not to be remembered. How ephemeral when we live so tangibly and with such recorded impetuses of existence.
Stompin' Tom Connors
Footballguy
Poetryrockaction said:
grateful zed
Footballguy
grateful dead movie unlocked for free viewing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZPJ_VN3Iis&pbjreload=101
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZPJ_VN3Iis&pbjreload=101
⚡DEADHEAD⚡
Footballguy
RIP Jerry
Apple Jack
Footballguy
Interesting bit at the end of the Tinley Park show they showed last night, where Brent stops singing at the end of the Quinn The Eskimo and Healy steps in to fill out the harmonies at the end. Obviously, Brent is pretty ####ed up but his playing isn't so bad as to indicate that's the reason for him not singing. Guessing his voice much have just been shot.
![[icon]](/data/avatars/s/5/5167.jpg?1660313464){kind=avatar}
