june 8 & 9, 1968: carousel ballroom, san francisco, CA.

the dead share a double bill with the venue co-operators jefferson airplane. unfortunately, fleetwood mac missed the run (their would-be U.S. debut) due to visa issues. beginning in march of '68, the dead and the airplane played the carousel friday, saturday and sunday nights for dancing. san francisco chronicle music critic ralph gleason described the 'dance-concert' scene at the carousel at that time as more concert than dance. "...they are still much better than the night club atmosphere, freer, more informal, and with much better vibrations," he wrote. as for the june 9th show, gleason noted, "the house was jammed but people stood, rooted by the physical proximity of others, and danced from the ankles up."

the 6/8 tape opens with the earliest full st. stephen. it's raw, accelerated, and not settled into its groove yet. only jerry seems to have the words down, but the music flows reaching an impressive drive before garcia and lesh use the old dark star intro as a signal to end. from here, they roll out an ace that's it for the other one > turn on your lovelight combination. the cryptical envelopment outro into lovelight is played in a different key than usual, which throws off pigpen. weir semi-awkwardly takes the first verse before the band drops into a drum break, and recovers. the recording concludes with a fantastic early reading of morning dew, and a flavorful take on it hurts me too.

the 6/9 fragment begins with commentary from weir: “whoever stole our scratcher, please bring it back. you can just unobtrusively start passing it forward and no one will ever know. reward offered. we need it for the next number.” and with that, the set kicks off with the first extended dark star, 16 minutes, and the only one recorded between march-august of 1968. it takes five minutes before the first verse. the middle section is played well with garcia liberating the sextet around the 11 minute mark; the music begins to soar before a tape flip and a soft landing in some hand percussion that subtly shifts to the drum kit. st. stephen is next up and the transition is flawless. the band is starting to hedge closer to the classic st. stephen bounce, still working on the phrasing and dynamic flow. the set concludes with another spin through turn on your lovelight. mckernan is very much in his element on this version.

in march of 2022, the owsley stanley foundation broke the news that they had unearthed some lost reels from bear's archive. the announcement read: "grateful dead, carousel ballroom, june 1 or june 8, 1968: this very special set of three mystery reels was preserved thanks to the generous contributions of adopt-a-reel patrons: dean budnick, aaron barksdale, and the minnesota white lightning alliance." the tape boxes indicate only that it's a dead show recorded on a saturday night. one of the tape boxes, labeled by bear after-the-fact, indicates that it might be "'68?" and "possibly the carousel."

i don't know about you, but i'm very ready for more grateful dead music from these final carousel ballroom shows. hearing these tracks in their early stages of development is such a gift. let's hope there's an official bear's sonic journals release of the june closing run in the not-too-distant future.

https://archive.org/details/gd1968-06-08.158612.remaster.disk4.danielfutureanimation02.flac1644

2/2/69: labor temple, minneapolis, MN. w/ blackwood apology.

a few weeks prior to recording the tracks that would grace the seminal live dead LP, the boys play a short, but very happening set at the grand opening of the minneapolis labor temple. the band had begun their midwest tour with a couple shows at the kinetic playground in chicago, starting a long, strange tradition of touring the midwest in the dead of winter. a reporter for the minneapolis tribune who was in attendance wrote, "after a long delay for setting up their nearly 100 pieces of equipment, the grateful dead came on with a sound like the end of a bad trip. it was a horrendously penetrating hum from an amplifier gone mad. but when they got the amplifier squared away, they showed that they can play as well as make noise." sounds fairly typical for a bear-era show to me.

the tape begins with schoolgirl already underway. pigger is in fine form and his harp playing melds perfectly with jerry's swampy, mixolydian blues riffs. hilarious stage banter ensues. garcia: "come on man, we come all the way across the country & leave the comfort and beauty of california and come all the way out here in the cold miserable [midwest] and what do we get? what do we get? people who can't dig it! too weird!" weir adds, "it was sheer hell," while lesh intrudes to exclaim, "this is the first dance concert in your city in eleven years! why don't you all take advantage of it?" some familiar tuning-with a competing louie louie bass line-rises out of the fray and the boys launch headlong into dark star. the 16-minute take is charged and beautiful, with lush feedback and spirited diversions from the main theme. from here, there's twenty more sharp minutes of st. stephen > the eleven > death don't have no mercy, with some unfortunate tape cuts. despite the blemishes, the classic 1969 sequence is satisfying throughout.

the psychedelic mayhem continues with a blazing cryptical suite. the transition into the other one is explosive; it hits you like a truckful of bricks, but it's a welcomed assault. the dramatic flow of ideas between garcia and the drummers spurs and nudges the septet toward oblivion. the interplay and speedy changes in direction are extraordinary, and the cryptical reprise that follows is equally rewarding. the show concludes with turn on your lovelight. it's a deep pocketed version with classic mckernan raps, intricate grooves, and rich, circular double drumming.

it might seem weird to refer to a grateful dead show-especially one from 1969-as concise, but that's a word that springs to mind when listening to this tape. here we have a good portion of the dead's 1969 repertoire performed in less than ninety minutes, and there's hardly a note wasted during the set. in a review from the minneapolis star the following day, the reporter, johan mathiesen, waxed lyrical about the band's sound and approach. midway through the piece he did a fine job summing up the grateful dead's shtick in one sentence: "the dead play a style of music that could best be described as seemingly about to fall apart at any moment, yet the group is so tight that regardless of how far afield they may wander, they all come together at exactly the right moments." this opening night at the labor temple exemplifies this sentiment in spades.

https://archive.org/details/gd69-02-02.sbd.cotsman.9758.sbeok.shnf

4/18/70—family dog on the great highway, san francisco, CA: new riders of the purple sage/charlie musselwhite/mickey hart & the heartbeats/bobby ace and the cards off the bottom of the deck.

the 1970 soundboard tape archive is full of holes, mostly stemming from bear's unfortunate february new orleans arrest and court imposed travel restrictions. as such, more shows survive on audience-only recordings from this year than any other. that made the unexpected discovery of a pristine quality mostly acoustic soundboard performance by the grateful dead from April 18, 1970, a real find. unearthed by mountain girl from an old box of jerry's personal effects, the tape soon made its way onto an official rhino 2-LP release in 2013. a notice on the album cover reads, "this rare recording was made on a non-professional machine at low level and contains some tape hiss and other undesirable stuff. several procedures were employed to clarify the sound, but artifacts may still be heard. however, the music shines through, and the performance is too good not to bring to you. enjoy."

what made this tape all the more unique and equally peculiar in the grateful dead historical record was the billing of the band. the moniker mickey hart & the heartbeats had only been used a few times previously for a few electric jam sessions at the matrix in 1969. bobby ace and the cards off the bottom of the deck was a new name that had not been used before, and was probably included as more of a joke. the NRPS, who had opened a scant number of dead shows in the bay area, would have been largely unknown to the family dog audience. as to why the blues harmonica player and singer charlie musselwhite was added to the weekend performances, we can surmise that his presence-with future LA express guitarist robben ford-was more of a guarantee that there would be something upbeat and danceable, no matter what the dead rolled out.

lineups and aliases aside, the purpose of these billed acoustic shows on the weekend of april 17-19 seems to be a tuneup for the series of performances known as "an evening with the grateful dead," that would commence on 5/1/70 at alfred college. in order to meet their goal of a four hour grateful dead concert with three different configurations, the band had to whip the pieces into shape. the electric grateful dead was all set, battle tested and road ready; the acoustic arrangement and the new riders set were a different story though. the wooden portion of the show was unfledged with very little precedent (save for a few shows in december '69 and january/february of 1970 when garcia and weir had played some acoustic duets and, once or twice, pigpen was even induced into playing a song or two). this owsley tape paints a clear picture of what was planned and what would go down in the subsequent months on the road.

the recording opens with the first taped acoustic version of i know you rider, a tune that would be a staple the rest of the year. lesh gets increasingly annoyed at owsley and the monitor situation amidst much classic stage banter and laughter from garcia and weir, though they both get pissed, too. jerry: “[the guitars] are as though invisible, unheard, unstruck!” “this is an electric guitar,” he announces, “something new,” before they roll out an acoustic/electric cumberland blues and new speedway boogie. both sound great with dampened drums, the latter sounding much like the recently recorded workingman’s dead version, with sweet garcia blues riffs. while someone fetches pigpen from backstage, we get a mini-set from bobby ace—me & my uncle and mama tried, with vocals by marmaduke and some funky guitar work from david nelson.

the remainder of the tape is all pig, sounding much like he might have saddled up to his kitchen table late at night with a guitar. it begins with his usual katie mae before moving on to a bunch of debuts, some never heard again. ain't it crazy (aka the rub) is a lightnin’ hopkins standard from the old jugband days. bring me my shotgun, also by hopkins, is unflashy and low key. roberta appears to be assembled from several sources. the set closes with mckernan’s versions of a pair of john lee hooker tunes, black snake and tupelo blues, both among the quietest songs ever performed on a dead stage.

in the relatively short acoustic history of the grateful dead, this owsley soundboard tape at the family dog is a remarkable discovery. it finds the band-a week after headlining the fillmore west-test driving a brand new configuration that would format many performances in 1970, concluding with the remarkable capitol theatre run in early november. after the three april shows, the dead would never play again at the dog, as they simply got too big for the venue. it's a fortunate break indeed that jerry inadvertently hung on to a final relic from that weekend. sound issues, episodic feedback, and monitor problems aside, it's a tape that deserves your full aural attention.

https://archive.org/details/09newspeedwayboogie

11/1/68: silver dollar fairgrounds, chico, CA. w/gunge.

by late 1968, chico was becoming somewhat of a hip satellite of san francisco. a number of national acts made their way to the sacramento valley city, including the cannonball adderley quintet, johnny cash, it's a beautiful day, lou rawls, the 5th dimension, and rod mckuen. by fall of the year, chico's silver dollar fairgrounds armory was starting to host regular gigs. quicksilver messenger service played a date in october, along with the all-female bay area band ace of cups. the grateful dead, already established in san francisco, made their way up to the armory the following month. the local psych garage band gunge, featuring frontman martin taylor, opened the show.

the dead's chico debut is a beauty. the 12-minute dark star opener-although less freeform-is a little more energized than the october versions. tonight's take is an exercise in precision, with punctilious leads by garcia that drive the jam between verses. it serves as a nice prelude to an absolutely shredding that's it for the other one. the cryptical intro is oh so sweet, played with delicate fidelity until it drops, with the force of a cannon, into the other one. weir ignites the band with some ferocious, guttural vocals. just prior to the first verse he yells, "yoo hoo" into the mic, as if he's calling out for a lost pet. with lesh and garcia in full assault mode, the band forges maniacally along in 12/8 psychedelic euphoria. the cryptical reprise is awash with brightly lit tonalities and subtle touches before transitioning to another round of psychotic jamming, highlighted by a savvy display of rabid finger-picking by jerry and tomahawking counter rhythms from kreutzmann and hart. in time, the music drifts into deep space-which the sextet is happy to explore for a few measures-before drifting into 7+ minutes of glorious feedback.

the segue into new potato caboose is like a portal opening into another world, but then somebody kicks out a plug or something and we land in the back half of a lengthy alligator > caution > feedback > we bid you goodnight. the tape cut is unfortunate, and one can only imagine how amazing the middle of this set must have been, given the energy of the music we have. and when the short but sincere, bid you goodnight rises out of the output signals of the amplifiers, it's easy to picture the kids from chico removing their hands from over their eyes to clap along.

a month after the dead's visit, LSD guru timothy leary made a stop at CSU chico. following the appearance, the chico state yearbook quoted leary, “raising the hedonic level of chico is not child’s play.” i don't know about you, but i think the dead's performance might have pushed it up a notch or two.

https://archive.org/details/gd1968-11-01.150968.sbd.eaton-latvala.miller.flac1644

10/25/69: winterland ballroom, san francisco, CA. w/the jefferson airplane, stills & nash, and sons of champlin.

after a year of extensive touring with shows in mostly smaller clubs and auditoriums, the dead play three nights at the winterland ballroom. with a capacity of 5400, the renowned sutter street venue was over twice the size of the fillmore west, so this was a substantial show, hence the co-billing with the jefferson airplane. the poster advertised two nights, and the third night-sunday, october 26-was added when ticket sales justified another performance. this is probably how bill graham had it planned all along, a strategy that he would employ many times in subsequent decades. portions of the dead shows were recorded in mono and broadcast later on KPFA-FM, berkeley.

the dead followed sons of champlin, a short acoustic outing by stephen stills & graham nash, and the airplane, closing out a monumental show. while their set contains only four songs, it is absolutely brilliant from a performance aspect. every tune is played with precision and swagger, much like the transcendent fillmore west recordings that made their way onto live dead.

the action begins right away with a beautifully executed dark star, that features all the variations and nuances we've come to expect from this era. the synergy is palpable as the band reaches further and further toward deep space; garcia, lesh, and TC propel things along, exploring contemplative themes and jazzy, opulently melodic improvisation. we get both verses and, as was the custom, a high voltage st. stephen rises out of the ashes of the dark star. the eleven that follows is just as explosive and the degree of collaborative expression is astounding. garcia creates new phrasing and infectious riffs at every turn, while lesh carrys us madly along, ruthlessly plucking out diverse combinations of meter within the eleven-beat time signature.


as the jam extends and morphs, phil steers the group into turn on your lovelight. pig takes over vocal duties, and the lads roll out an absolutely rousing take on the bobby bland r&b number that, no doubt, had everyone in the winterland crowd up and dancing. about six minutes in, the band locks in on a groove; mckernan raps intuitively, punctuating the mix with his standard rodomontade. among the background vocals by weir, garcia and lesh, we can make out the voice of stephen stills in the chorus, "let it shine, let it shine." in due time, stills begins to integrate his gretsch white falcon into the fray. garcia's strat and owsley hot-wired rig thunders with equal sonic vigor, although his tone is cleaner and sweeter than stills' biting timbre. for the remaining fifteen minutes, jerry and stephen trade riffs and vamp along, adding great piquancy to an already great rendition. the band pushes the envelope further and the playing reaches a feverish intensity before the musicians usher the song to a searing climax.

following a minute or two of standing ovation, bill graham takes the stage and sums it up perfectly by saying, "we may be a little prejudiced but let's get one thing said… on any given night, the very greatest rock and roll band in the world, the grateful dead."

https://archive.org/details/gd69-10-25.sbd.jagla.81.sbefail.shnf

10/12/68: avalon ballroom, san franciso, CA.

this show has circulated for years mislabeled 10/13/68, but it's really october 12, 1968. the gig didn't have a live FM broadcast, although there was a mid-1970's KSAN broadcast (up through the jam after new potato) and that is the origin of the 10/13/68 tapes. dick latvala found the master reel in the vault of the complete second set, which was not in circulation until recently. this performance was a favorite of dick's and always landed on his topnotch, must-hear, tape list. one listen and it's easy to see why. it should be noted that pig is absent for this show, maybe temporarily fired, maybe not.

before we get the goods, jerry shares some thoughts: "hold onto your bodies and relax, everybody. everybody relax for crissakes, everybody just cool it. everything's gonna be alright. we're gonna play here until, until uh, until we drop." weir, the consummate mc follows garcia, "we’re going to do an elementary dance number-it’s a foxtrot and also a ladies' choice." we've heard that one before, but it still seems appropriate for the occasion.

they dig right in and, without pig, the band's sound really opens up. the three previous nights of hartbeats experimentation at the matrix are immediately obvious in the 38-minute first set consisting of dark star > st. stephen > the eleven > death don't have no mercy. the dark star is bold with soaring instrumental work by garcia and lesh. the remainder of the set is completely off the rails good, highlighted by a plaintive, massive death don’t have no mercy, with jerry reaching in deep and fervidly belting out every last lyrical phrase. some would argue it's possibly the greatest grateful dead tape side out there. having listened to the opening sequence from this night countless times, i'd have to say i'm open to such a claim.

set two is another 42-minutes of pure pleasure. the cryptical suite is well-developed and loaded with brilliant musicianship; it escalates to beastly heights, with garcia peeling off notes at a dizzying rate. the reprise flows easily into new potato caboose with concise drum breaks and major key bliss, including a happy thirteen's jam awash in warmly psychedelic experimentation. in due time, the jamming shifts gears and a caution theme threatens to develop before decending into a haunting 7 full minutes of glockenspiel-laced feedback to close out the night.

seeded by david gans with a solid digital transfer from chris frisco, this show is a must for any fans of late '68 grateful dead. the band is playing with a special intensity—fearless, messy, and monstrously weird. plug in, it's très contagious.

https://archive.org/details/gd68-10-12.sbd.eD.10909.sbeok.shnf/gd68-10-12t11.shn

9/13/78: soundcheck—sphinx theatre, giza, egypt.

one of the highest moments in grateful dead history came on september 16, 1978, in front of the great pyramid of giza, when a rhythm and percussion choir led by mickey hart’s friend, hamza el din, opened for the band’s second set by playing his song ollin arageed. as they sang and jammed, the moon went into eclipse and then, one by one, the band members drifted onto the stage and joined them, eventually segueing into fire on the mountain.

the psycho-spiritual nature of the egypt trip undoubtedly contributed to the dead’s identity and mystique. on a larger scale, they were not there just to perform; they were there to record an album, harness the ancient energy of the location, and to possibly levitate pharaoh khufu's pyramid. the journey itself was symbolic of so much more. the event represented a connection to a past the participants could just barely glimpse. a relationship to ancient humans. a sacred place on the planet, and the planet’s place in the universe. all that metagalactic stuff.

in true grateful dead fashion the sound crew attempted to wire up an elaborate complex of audio equipment at the center of the great pyramid that would serve as an echo FX for the concerts. bill graham provided technical advice deep inside the king's chamber, while kesey, in full prankster form, freely distributed a specially procured liquid owsley. the stage was set for the historic shows. at the least, it was a perfect framework for a cosmic wild goose chase.

along with the soundboard recordings and shaky video footage of the three shows (remastered and delivered with fun packaging via the official rocking the cradle: egypt 1978 box set), there exists a very unusual field tape of the dead, hamza el-din, and a handful of drummers rehearsing el-din’s ollin arageed. what's striking about the tape is the immediacy and beauty of the music. it has a timeless, otherworldly feel. the vibe, ambling like the iaro sediments of the nile, is at once stirring, holy, and unfettered by the windy desert conditions & ambient limitations of the recording device. the music begins with just garcia at first, weaving notes through clapping/singing. the tune is soothing and hypnotic, a balm for the ears. the other 10 tracks on the recording feature el din’s opening set the following night, leading rhythms on the oud. the playing, a rich fusion of arabic and nubian sounds, is entrancing and deeply satisfying. it's easy to see why garcia loved collaborating with hamza and visiting his sonic universe.

the dead playing african music is undoubtedbly one of the best things to come out of the egypt junket. plug in some good headphones and give it a listen. very heady music.

https://archive.org/details/gd1978-09-13.aud-schk.unknown.miller.87779.sbeok.flac16/gd78-09-13d1t03.flac