3/21/70: capitol theatre, port chester, NY.

another superb ken and judy lee field recording, produced when the pair were working at the port chester venue. the original audience master cassettes (4 Ampex C361-90) were recorded on a Sony TC124 with unknown dynamic mics, spread approximately 25-30 feet across the balcony. no noise reduction was applied.

from february 1970 to near the end of 1971, the rock promoter howie stein did his best to make the capitol theater into the westchester version of the fillmore east. like the fillmore, the capitol was a converted movie theater. it was really a better place to hear music than to see a film. it was much smaller than the fillmore, so it was hard to get a bad seat. in addition, the staff was a little less uptight about dancing and milling around so concertgoers could usually get up and dance. the sound system was excellent, and rarely did technical difficulties impair the music. and the stage crew, like the fillmore's, knew what they were doing.

of the two performances on this evening, it is the late affair that most heads point to and rave about. i’d like to direct your attention to the early set, which is equally as satisfying, albeit a tad shorter. the tape opens with the first recorded version of rufus thomas’s walkin' the dog since ’66. it's a playful extended take with alternating vocals between weir, pigpen, and garcia. a rousing me & my uncle follows and afterwards it’s clear that the crowd is animated to the point that they won't shut up. garcia: "calm down, you unruly freaks." the cacophony of audience noise continues, and the boys roll out the last taped version of death don’t have no mercy until 1989. the tune completely quiets the crowd as the band draws all attention into the music.

the quiet awe is short-lived before more shouting and obligatory calls for st. stephen ensue. phil breaks the ice by asking for an E-flat for tuning purposes. jeering and laughter follow, then more song requests. weir stokes the fire by remarking that they don't know the names of their own songs, and that everything the audience is shouting towards the stage is completely meaningless to the band. the motley sextet’s riposte to the mutinous crowd is a solid and compact good lovin,' followed by a peppy dire wolf (with tasty intro guitar licks, most likely added during the workingman’s dead sessions), and a sultry big boss man that allows the pigger to stretch his legs nicely. next up, we get the last known version of mark spoelstra's he was a friend of mine and it's a beautiful send-off at that. garcia's outro solo is long and articulate. goddamn lovely, really.

the early show ends with a unique 19-minute sequence of viola lee blues > the seven > cumberland blues. viola lee gets quiet and lyrical before exploding and melting into fiery immolation mode. the soundscape shifts, threatening to redetonate, before garcia coyly transitions the outfit into the second and final taped version of the seven, which serves as a perfectly weird bridge to the cosmic bakersfield of cumberland.

https://archive.org/details/gd70-03-21.early.lee.pcrp.20184.sbeok.shnf

2/28/70: family dog at the great highway, san francisco, CA w/commander cody and the lost planet airmen.

the period from October '69 to february '70 in grateful dead history is especially plagued with incomplete recordings. there are a bunch of gigs where a soundboard reel or two exists, but subsequent reels have somehow vanished from the vault. the biggest reason 1970 has such a recording void of course is that bear, the benefactor and primary taper, wasn't with the band for much of the year. after the january 30th new orleans bust, he wasn't allowed to travel on tour, and the last thing he taped outside california was the fillmore east shows. thankfully for us, he was still able to tape their san francisco gigs including most of the celebrated fillmore west shows.

of the available 1970 soundboards, there exists a mostly intact family dog run at the end of february. on the whole these performances are pretty mellow, and it's notable that they ignore the dark star> st. stephen> eleven medley every night. of the three shows, february 28th is perhaps the best sounding tape of the lot. back in my tape-trading days, the only recording we had of this show was a pretty good sounding (though particuarly bassy) harry ely audience tape. in the early aughts this all changed when a clean soundboard recording from an anonymous source made its way onto the archive.

the show opens with a solid turn on your lovelight > me and my uncle pairing. the cumberland blues that follows is hot, and tonight's take is psychedelic bluegrass to the highest degree. a wooden set is next. garcia: “we’re gonna take everybody back about 60 billion notches, man, and play some acoustic guitars here for a little spell.” the boys roll out a spirited monkey and the engineer, the last taped dead version of the traditional little sadie, and a gorgeous, almost perfect black peter. neither garcia nor weir can keep their guitars in tune, which they discuss off-mic before jerry announces, “okay it’s back to the electric world, everybody can get back up again.” the electric dead commences with a china cat sunflower > know you rider > high time combination; the original sextet are fully tuned in to each other and the sequence is superb. after a perky dire wolf, we move to the more exploratory portion of the show. good lovin' is rock solid and the drum duo and outro jam are smoking. from there, the audience is treated to 38 minutes worth of two sequences: alligator > drums > the other one, followed by the final performance of mason's children that seques into the second turn on your lovelight of the night.

this tape is a very good record of what the dead sounded like at the beginning of 1970. they were riding high on the recent pressing of live/dead and rolling out a bunch of excellent new material from the soon-to-be-released workingman's dead. it wasn't all roses though. their manager lenny hart cleaned out all the bank accounts and left town. ironically, in late january hart had proposed merging grateful dead operations with chet helms' struggling family dog. that said, it must have been odd to play a weekend at the venue that their crooked manager had proposed merging with. listening to the relaxed nature of this performance, it's pretty apparent that the good ol' grateful dead were none the worse for wear.

https://archive.org/details/gd70-02-28.sbd.cotsman.9377.sbeok.shnf

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

8/19/70: fillmore west, san franciso, CA. w/the new riders of the purple sage.

another acoustic-electric curiosity from the grateful dead's storied history is this fine gene taback field recording. dupes of the master cassette made it into trading circles very early and, based on the rarely taped american beauty songs, on-point harmonies, pigpen's piano, and great setlist, the tape is essential listening for any devotee of the era.

the first premeditated acoustic sets of 1970 occurred during the late shows of the last two nights of the dead’s legendary february run at the fillmore east. portions of these sets were released in 1973 as part of bear’s choice, including pig's note-perfect take on the lightnin' hopkins country blues number, katie mae. acoustic sets became the norm after this, and were featured nightly in the "an evening with the grateful dead" set structure (acoustic grateful dead, new riders of the purple sage, electric grateful dead), before ebbing to a close the following year during spring tours to midwest and northeast towns and colleges.

in late july, the dead returned to bill graham's fillmore east for another run prior to heading home for the remainder of the summer to work on american beauty. in between studio sessions, they managed a number of gigs, many in very small venues, as they introduced much of the new material, and some additional covers, into their repertoire. they also experimented with a format incorporating just the acoustic dead set and the new riders at some of these shows. this gem of a recording, courtesy of raoul duke, is a nice window into one of those nights.

the whole acoustic set is sheer joy. billy adds some drums & pig plays lively, soulful upright piano on how long blues, dark hollow, candyman, ripple, truckin,' and new speedway boogie. there's a long gospel/bluegrass portion with NRPS, but the set centerpiece is unquestionably the stunning ripple > brokedown palace pairing with big outro vocals. the electric portion of the show gets a waggish introduction by an enthusiastic emcee: “out of the backwoods of marin county sometimes known as the kodiak woodchuck motherfuckers, the grateful dead!” the set is straight ahead ramble and boogie, including a slow, funky cold rain and snow, a robust st. stephen > sugar magnolia, an outstanding good lovin', with fiery garcia licks and full-on mckernan swagger, solid takes on new minglewood blues and casey jones, and a 39-minute not fade away > turn on your lovelight finale that features a wobbly david crosby on rhythm guitar.

this night at the old fillmore west is archetypal 1970 grateful dead—a large helping of countrified blues choogle, with a side of imperious electric-ensemble sonic contortion. it might be the best '70 acoustic sets you’ve ever heard. you be the judge. you may even come back for a second or third listen.

https://archive.org/details/gd1970-08-19.aud.taback.cdjones.81775.sbeok.flac16

12/6/80: recreation center, mill valley, CA. w/santa claus.

this is a pretty remarkable and strange little show. just a couple months after their acoustic residencies at the warfield theatre and radio city music hall, the dead played a holiday party for the local muscular dystrophy association, at the behest of justin kreutzmann.

“thank you to the clowns for the nice entertainment, you were very good,” says the woman emcee before introducing the band. she doesn’t quite know everyone’s names (“weir? wire?”), so jerry takes over, which is charming. with brent on the rec center piano, the boys casually play the same tunes about sex and death (and the one about the train-driving monkey) that they did during the october sets but to an audience that likely (mostly) doesn’t know them, though at least one wheelchair has a stealie sticker.

the short set begins with a rousing rendition of dire wolf, and the perky little workingman's murder ballad never sounded so good. weir takes the lead on the next number. a jug band fave, she's on the road again has made its return to the dead's repertoire. it's essentially a new song compared to the electric versions in '66. it's got a jouncy feel that seems genetically connected to the '72 bakersfield era. as they did for the reckoning LP, been all around this world and monkey & the engineer go back-to-back with weir’s classic banter in between, “this next one's a song about disaster narrowly averted…” jack a roe—played on/off since ’77 (once acoustic in 1978)—is next, now finding virtually perfect form with naturally weaving acoustic bounce. next up, an excellent off-mic moment when a kid approaches garcia. kid: "i want rock & roll." garcia: "you do? this is sort of like rock & roll, this next tune." they deliver cassidy, which is sort of like rock & roll, which includes a deft little jam with jerry building to a big peak.

ice cream is served up before bird song, which does feel ideal for a holiday celebration. garcia really brings it on this version, and it's about as stormy as the acoustic bird songs get. a slow, sweet rendition of elizabeth cotton’s oh babe it ain't no lie is next in the queue. the song would only be performed two more times by garcia and company (in the netherlands for an acoustic set, and finally at marin vets, on 3/28/84, in a performance that kicked off the second set, without weir and mydland onstage). ripple ends the show, which seems like the perfect finishing touches on another offbeat story in grateful dead history. and then, it’s time for santa! the ambient amusements linger as the band scatters after the set, including a crowd-supported search for brent who apparently left without his gift.

recorded by betty cantor-jackson with a swell new transfer by jason chastain in 2020, this tape is jolly good. and it's a betty field recording, so you can go ahead and download the sucker!

https://archive.org/details/gd1980-12-06.151263.betty.master.flac16

3/22/73: memorial auditorium, utica, NY.

in august of ’69 the dead began their push into upstate new york at the woodstock festival. by 1970, the band’s itinerary included a number of performances due north of new york city. sam cutler had stripped down operations and had the boys touring with abandon. the goal was to get a paid, as many nights as possible. this included touring with the nrps and a new format, "an evening with the grateful dead," which featured acoustic dead sets most nights. the tour featured gigs at SUNY alfred/delhi, harpur college, and the U of rochester palestra. they ventured north of the hudson again in the fall ’71, touring in support of skull and roses (which warner brothers reinforced with a $100K worth of FM broadcasts).

the next time the dead traveled upstate was the spring of 1973. the tour began with three dates at nassau coliseum. to get through the week and onto the larger venues ahead, they had to at least cover expenses, and that meant playing at a smaller facility. the utica memorial auditorium was a typical multi-purpose civic center of the era. it was erected in 1960 and had a capacity of 5700 for floor events. for the most part, it was used for minor league ice hockey, and the AHL utica comets still call it home. the increasing size of the dead’s sound system in 1973 made one-nighters harder to justify, so the citizens of utica were lucky enough to get two nights of the good ol' grateful dead. thanks to the tapes, we know that the band absolutely killed it in utica—as they did most nights in 1973—and anyone from oneida county who got to see either of the shows was lucky indeed.

the tape of the second night from handshake city is plum archetypal ’73 dead. the 18 song first set is nearly two hours long and has a bit of everything. the short tunes are all solidly played, including my favorite take on the briefly performed loretta lynn song, you ain't woman enough. it's sublime the amount of twang garcia gets out of his strat on this one. some great first frame jams abound as well, with stellar versions of birdsong, china cat > i know you rider, and playing in the band. and there's even some playful banter in response to the local fire marshal (who apparently asked the band to make an announcement about keeping a fire isle clear, and that smoking is dangerous for you). in classic prankster style, lesh & garcia charmingly bait the municipal officer, with lesh leading the way with a stoned public service anouncement. a chuckling jerry responds: “yeah, try to keep your fires in the fire aisle.”

the back half of the show opens with an absolutely scathing big river. it's one of those early 70's versions that surely could have earned the quintet a place at the grand ole opry. a few cuts later, they roll out here comes sunshine, one of their new wake of the flood numbers. it's a good early take and hints at the jazzy direction they're heading in. billy tinkers with his snare and phil plucks a few familiar bass notes that signal the arrival of truckin'. like the europe '72 versions, tonight's take really swings. seven minutes in, we're treated to a sweet early instrumental version of nobody's fault but mine; garcia's open D solo is fluid and expressive, and adds a mournful feeling to the mix. the boys shuffle back to truckin' proper for a brief jam and then launch full tilt into the other one. it's a gorgeous performance with inspired jamming that draws us out of the basic theme and into a space of attunement, rich in complexity and ambiguity. kreutmann's drumming is other wordly throughout, pushing the ensemble deeper into the music. in time the other one theme returns, weir offers the second verse, and the band segues gracefully into eyes of the world. the second single from the album—released as a promo with mono and stereo mixes—eyes of the world is the perfect vehicle for exploration and thematic jamming. and tonight's take is no exception, with it's rich samba carioca feel, jerry's signature Emaj7 vamping, a dramatically framed coda and, as they did so nicely in the '73-'74 versions, it is elegantly paired with china doll.

the band isn't done yet—they still have two weir sung tunes left in the tank. sugar magnolia is rocked out with a classic extended finish, and the one more saturday night encore is more than acceptable. it's a fine ending to a dynamic show with many impossibly good moments. from a business standpoint, this mid-week utica stopover gave the band a couple of modest paydays during an already fruitful spring tour. their upstate history was starting to reap financial benefits and the fires would continue to burn in this region of new york for years to come.

culled from betty cantor jackson's 10" master reels with a digital transfer by jamie waddell, this tape purrs from start to finish.


https://archive.org/details/gd1973-03-22.136267.sbd.GEMS.flac16

8/26/71: gaelic park, bronx, NY.

there is nothing not to like about the dead in the summer of 1971. the band was absolutely raging, as evidenced in the high voltage shows at the hollywood palladium, chicago’s auditorium theatre (featured on dick’s vol. 35), and the yale bowl—all of which resurfaced when donna godchaux discovered the original reels on a houseboat that was owned by keith’s parents.

1971 is also the year when bootleg recordings begin to sprout up like weeds, and grateful dead bootleg LPs were selling like goddamn hot cakes. outside of gaelic park a number of freaks were peddling their pirated analog wares and the dead’s manager, sam cutler, had other ideas. the grateful dead hated busting people, but they were fed up with this growing scene. cutler and a posse security guards descended on the LP slinging hippies and informed them that garcia told them personally, “we want you guys to go outside and liberate those bootlegs.” and this is exactly what happened on this evening in the bronx, though word is that they would return many before the night was over.

in addition to discouraging bootleg sales, the dead were also cracking down on the tapers. one such taper who consistently eluded cutler and head roadie big steve parish, was marty weinberg. marty didn’t get caught, he was too crafty for that. the bronx native was in front of the stage on this august night, holding his microphone level to his chest, a Uher 4000L portable slung over his shoulder. marty had been taping the dead since their central park gig back in ’68. since then, he’d accumulated hours and hours of grateful dead music, taped in very high fidelity. marty’s field tape from this night is first rate, and i’ll link it—along with charlie miller’s transfer of the rex jackson soundboard recording—at the foot of this post.

the gaelic park show is notable for mckernan's superlative first set performance, highlighted by his recitation of empty pages—one of only two versions in circulation. this would be pig's last gig until december '71, and he rocks it throughout. big boss man and mr. charlie are both impeccable. hard to handle is a barnburner and certainly on par with 8/6 or 4/29; unfortunately, it would be the last time pigpen would sing the otis redding number with the dead. the remainder of the set is an exact balance of songs led by garcia and weir, including a ripping bertha, a solid sugar magnolia, an early rendition of loser with the soon-to be-dropped ‘sweet suzie’ line, and a top-notch sugaree, featuring impassioned vocals by jerome.

set two opens with me & my uncle and tonight's take is absolutely brimming with energy. from here, we get a succinct 10-minute china cat > know you rider with some bright and wily lead bass from phil. jerry's vox kicks out and bobby takes his customary northbound train verse, an anomaly that i believe only occurred once during garcia's tenure with the band. following workman-like versions of deal and cumberland blues, the quintet rolls out a 25-minute truckin' > other one that features some especially potent guitar playing from weir. this other one jam is classic '71, slashing and building to towering freaky heights. three quick tunes, including a tight uncle john's band, gets us ready for another fabulous jam sequence that begins with st. stephen, and then flows—with great alacrity—into a tasty not fade away > goin' down the road > not fade away sandwich with plenty of zesty riffs. after a lenghty break, the boys return to the bandstand and send the crowd home with a rocking johnny b. goode.

this is the last show the dead played featuring the original five members and they put their foot on the gas throughtout, delivering a shitkicker of a performance. the following week, carman moore wrote about the event in his village voice 'new time' column. moore referred to the band's output as "good music making," and the structure of the concert as "...a general crescendo, light at the beginning and heavy-groovy at the end—not a shooting star, call-the-law finale, just a heightened physical-emotional climate...the goods delivered as promised...sort of like good preaching in a church known to be a happy place." in other words, an ideal spot to shake your bones on a late-august new york night.

marty weinberg field tape:
https://archive.org/details/gd1971-08-26.aud.sirmick.35374.sbeok.flac16

jackson soundboard mix:
https://archive.org/details/gd1971-08-26.sbd.fixed.miller-rolfe.32351.sbeok.flac16

4/13/69: student union ballroom, university of colorado, boulder.

not much was going down musically in boulder in the sixties. the one band that did originate in boulder—the excellent zephyr, featuring tommy bolin and candy givens—often claimed that they were the only band in town. denver, on the other hand, had a more interesting live music history. early in the sixties there had been a modest jazz scene in the five points neighborhood, which hosted international acts such as louis armstrong and duke ellington. a number of smaller clubs like the exodus, caatacombs, and the cave featured up-and-coming bands playing psychedelic folk and rock on the weekends. in september of '67, chet helms opened a branch of the family dog on 1601 west evans avenue in an effort to compete effectively with bill graham. it was a very clever idea, providing touring bands with a paying show partway to san francisco. locals were greeted to a number of national acts including jimi hendrix, blue cheer, cream, buffalo springfield, and big brother & the holding company. unfortunately, the denver sheriff, with the support of the political establishment, harassed helms incessantly and the family dog closed its doors in july of 1968.

the grateful dead, always the pioneers, did venture to boulder in the spring of '69. the unique event seems to have been a throw-in following shows at the university of arizona and utah, before motoring to omaha and then on to a purdue university performance the following week. playing the no-doubt tiny student union was probably just gigging for food and gas money. lord knows the dead were used to this practice—a necessity of the road, and something they had done time and again since their early acid tests days.

a 25-minute (& incomplete) turn on your lovelight gets things going. the band takes its sweet time warming up, building to some solid pigpen crowd work to get the vibe on for the evening. after an abreviated doin' that rag courtesy of a tape cut, weir asks "hey, do you want it now or later?" the now is another dose of mckernan, and a palatial good morning little schoolgirl with some fat harp work by the pigger. the final 54 minutes of set one is very compelling. dark star kicks it off. the playing is stunning, and the small post verse tape gap—as the ensemble is accelerating toward oblivion—is barely noticeable. the segue into st. stephen is efficient and is met with animated applause. tonight’s version is spot on, with just the right amount of fuzzy weir guitar and TC amusement park flavor on his trusty vox super continental. the eleven that emerges has a relaxed, almost laidback feel. it picks up a bit at the climax and lands sweetly onto death don’t have no mercy; the group dynamic is textbook, with delightful, subdued guitar tones.

after almost two hours, the band takes a set break. when they return to the stage we get 14 minutes of alligator with a short garcia/drummers jam, some chanting, more jamming, & a we bid you goodnight theme before the tape cuts off.

recorded by bear and digitally transfered by c. miller, this boulder outing is aces from top to bottom. see for yourself.

https://archive.org/details/gd1969-04-13.sbd.miller.87378.sbeok.flac16/gd69-04-13d2t04.flac

3/24/70: pirates world, dania, FL.

periodically the dead ventured out to play isolated shows in distant parts. florida was no exception, and included appearances at the miami pop festival and the big rock pow wow—both of which i have previously delved into in this blog. deadlists shows a ticket for two different march dates, which raises a mystery, but for purposes of this post i'll accept this show as occuring on the 24th. the recording is also unusual for the month in being in wide stereo (the other tapes in circulation have mostly been in mono).

no matter what the date, the grateful dead did spend some time that week sitting around the hotel pool. and they did more than sitting. they wrote truckin,' one of their most iconic songs with robert hunter (who had joined the band for the brief tour). the story is that hunter had come to the conclusion that the dead needed a road song, and that he needed to see the road to write the song. hunter had been working on the lyrics for a few months, inspired by the band's bust in new orleans. their guitars were within grabbing distance, so garcia, lesh, and weir set music to the song in about a half-hour. a nifty morsel of GD history.

the tape cuts in during a rushed, but well played morning dew. weir says, "at the risk of being repetitious, we're gonna do another song in the same key," and they go with 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 before the others return. weir & lesh assume leadership while jerry takes a breather. this section is unique, with weir blasting away on rhythm before garcia comes back in a torrent, pushing the ensemble to a firey climax. a few cuts later-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 lads bail out before the second stanza. it's also a fast, streamlined version, making it easy to hear how the band contemporaneously inhabits the music. the intro jam is brisk and focused; it soon cuts off, and the tape picks up again deep in the post-verse space. they soon reveal a few hints of melody, a jam rapidly materializes, and the music soars, unconstrained, in a stream of fecund, transportive motifs. garcia keeps pushing the group onward, his guitar lines cascading through the dark star riff, before slowing the tempo and trying out a new 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 intro riff. this is a very fast version, and they speed right through it, before garcia jumps straight into st. stephen. the take is raw and concise, with a hot guitar tone from jerry. in time, the drums beat out the introduction to a chunky not fade away—without much jamming—before they segue effortlessly into lovelight, with pigpen working his usual rap. lovelight would seem like the natural closer, but cowboy weir abruptly takes it into me & my uncle, and the show ends there.

https://archive.org/details/gd70-03-24.sbd.miller.32054.sbeok.flacf

3-22-69: the rose palace, pasadena, CA. with the paul butterfield band and jethro tull.

in march of '69 the grateful dead were primarily focused on finishing the aoxomoxoa album at pacific recording in san mateo. that being so, their performances were confined to easy weekend trips, which allowed them to make a little cash while still hanging around town to work on the record. this rose palace gig represents one of the few owsley recorded soundboards from march. jethro tull, on their first american tour, serves as the opener. they were a tremendous live band and must have given the crowd something tasty to chew on. the dead played second, which accounts for the shorter set. paul butterfield was a bigger name outside of the bay area, so he headlined the show.

although it's not complete, this bear tape is essential listening for fans of this period. the sound quality—despite being tracked in the concrete cavernous space of the now defunct pasadena club—is pretty sweet, with nice instrument separation. according to an observant attendee at the show, owsley was in experimental high gear on this night. he had three portable tektronix scopes far stage left, beyond garcia's double stack of fender twins, and was mixing live stereo.

the tape begins a few bars into good morning little school girl. tonight's take on the sonny boy williamson tune is dynamic, uptempo, and loaded with unrestrained discord. "that was da blues in A," weir declares, followed by a request to turn up one of the stage mics "on account i'm gonna be using it pretty soon, you know how it is." and with that, the lads launch into dark star. although this one clocks in at a mere 15 minutes, it is fully played, packed with thematic jams, peaks, and provisional weirdness. the drop into st. stephen is near perfect and it's clear the septet are really plugged into a groove. unfortunately, as is ofttimes the case with older bear boards, the tape cuts and we're plummeted into the final 4 ½ minutes of the eleven. the jamming is fierce and layered, 11 beats to the bar. the odd meter persists before an edgy b-flat drop signals a transition, and lovelight roars in like a five-alarm fire. all drums and jerry's guitar. pig marshals the vocal acrobatics, and the band is let loose to roam. then poof, it fades out at 12 minutes.

the dead played over 140 shows in 1969, and one hundred of these were committed to soundboard tape. this passadena gig isn't the crown jewel of the year's boards, but it is worth a visit or two. the dark star keeps me coming back, just for the sheer brilliance of the nuanced performance. magical? uh huh. and isn't that what makes us want to listen and relisten to live recordings of this band? sure as shit, it is.

https://archive.org/details/gd69-03-22.sbd.cotsman.8994.sbeok.shnf

9/20/68: berkeley community theater. ali akbar college of music benefit w/ace of cups, steve miller band, tabla master shankar ghosh, and vince delgado.

in 1968 mickey hart was studying at ali akbar college with the hindustani classical musician, pandit shankar ghosh. mickey would work on a number of compositions with shankar which included rhythmic cycles of 4, 6, 16, 5 & 7, teachings he would take to bill kreutzmann and add to the pair's repertoire. the influence of classical indian drumming on the dead's percussion breaks-including the improvisational rhythm devils segment folded into many second sets-can be traced to their early exposure to ali akbar khan, and to indian tabla players like alla rakha and zakir hussain. mickey would inlist rakha and hussain on his first solo album, rolling thunder. hart's second long player would join zakir, vince delgado, jordan amarantha, aushim chaudhuri, and a handful of other accomplished drummers as the diga rhythm band. in fact, one could easily speculate that the origins of diga are directly yoked to this fall of '68 berkeley performance.

the partial owsley soundboard tape cuts into a rough and tumble good morning little schoolgirl, which has an unusually raw feel—more akin to alligator. the revved-up number ends in a wash of feedback and some amusing mckernan howls. the banter that follows is hilarious. issues with the onstage mics prompt weir to inquire "what's happening?" there's no immediate reply. more microphone chatter ensues. "it's coming to life," rails garcia. "the first shock is free," he continues. in time, bear clears up the audio delivery matter and the band goes with st. stephen. the song has matured since its spring debut in st. louis, and tonight's version is compact and highly spirited. by the midpoint of the song it appears that the owsley kool-aid is starting to kick in as evidenced in jerry cracking up, and weir starting the wrong verse and singing over a laughing garcia—classic grateful dead shenanigans. consistent with the general practice, st. stephen jams into the eleven. tonight's take is short and layered with dense instrumentation.

as the eleven winds down the dead's amps are partitioned and two risers are rolled on stage between hart and kreutzmann. perched atop are shankar gosh and vince delgado. over the next 26 minutes, the four men perform a number of fixed compositions, taking a rhythmic journey through many talas cylces. composed by ali akbar khan for this occasion, the playing is hypnotic and riveting. there is nothing plodding or sloppy about it; this is a perceptive interplay between four astute percussionists who are listening and collaborating with each other. the energy is high and there is an alternating push of rhythmic patterns that contradict the tala and melodic structures that continually circle back to the fundamental scheme. at the end of the piece, the drumming becomes very quiet and the players begin to chant 'taketa, taketa,' before exploding into a final, powerful theka.

of all the 1968 grateful dead performances committed to tape, this owsley recorded fragment is one of the most unconventional sets you'll find. i know that a half hour of drums isn't everybody's thing, but where else in the dead's history can one find a percussive break with such distinguished guests in tow? the berkeley crowd's vibrant applause seems to readily acknowledge the exceptionalness of the event. and one can only imagine that the vedic sage-musician narada might have been smiling down in reverence and admiration, as well.

https://archive.org/details/gd1968-09-20.sbd.miller.115682.flac16

12-7-68: bellarmine college, louisville, KY.

1968 soundboards are few and far between, with over two-thirds of the shows unaccounted for. the first few months of the year are pretty well represented as the band was taping shows for anthem of the sun. after this, the spring and early summer is essentially a black hole for dead tapes until owsley re-upped as their soundman in june. the remainder of the year, though, is rather spotty, and it seems that many of bear’s tapes have disappeared. a couple of nice audience tapes fill the gaps but, unfortunately, there were very few people making field recordings in 1968. aside from the renowned mickey & the hartbeats matrix shows and some interesting garcia jam sessions, there's only a handful of tapes from the fall, and even less from the winter dates.

december 7 is notable in that it is the first archived performance with tom constanten. it's also the dead's first outing to kentucky (and the only time the band would ever play a gig at bellarmine college). you might ask what were the grateful dead doing at a small catholic college in louisville? well, the most reasonable motivation is they needed a stopover at the end of their fall midwest tour, and the 2600 seat knight's hall venue neatly fit the bill. either that, or the boys were dying to visit the repository for all of thomas merton's manuscripts.

the owsley tape opens with an abbreviated take on the dark star > st. stephen > the eleven sequence. the music flows with hints of free percussion & harmonics. TC's organ gyrates in the mix before the second dark star verse, st stephen is concise and energized, but the eleven derails due to a bad onstage echo. as the crew works out the technical issues, weir expounds: “nobody knows where present time is,” directly followed by a sedated promoter who provides stoned crowd control: “the curfew’s been cancelled, the kids are all in bed.” the tape cuts back in for the final four minutes of death don't have no mercy, which is fierce and can only make us wonder what the front end of the tune sounded like. jerry follows with a few words for the audience: "thanks, alot. we're gonna play a bunch more, we're not finished at all...and also you know you don't have to pay strict attention to us, we don't do very much that's funny. and if you want, you can dance. it feels good to dance. after a while you'll be pretty used to us." and with that, we're greeted with an adventurous 29 minutes of that's it for the other one > new potato caboose. the other one middle jam is really starting to catch and the energy is palpable. the cryptical reprise winds down delicately and the segue into new potato is seamless; tonight's take on the bobby peterson/phil lesh-composed tune is a bit more sloppy than in august, but it still evinces all of the anthem of the sun qualities with its intricate harmonies, rapid changes in tempo and meter, and instrumental weirdness.

billy kreutzmann is absent for the second frame. “one of our drummers, uh, broke down,” jerry explains. mickey adeptly covers his portion of the battery. the set begins with the only version of rosemary the dead would ever play to a live audience. it is an extremely quiet recording and you'll have to crank up the volume to really hear it. despite the levels, it's completely worth your full aural presence—a delicate, sensitive performance. he was a friend of mine is next and, unfortunately, is cut off right in the chorus. pig gets in the mix after this with a fine rendition of it hurts me too. his harp work is subtle and blends flawlessly with the rich tone of jerry's guitar. the set closes with an audience-requested morning dew, followed by a short, but sweet we bid you goodnight. “you’ve just been victimized by the grateful dead,” barbs garcia.

this one-off performance at bellarmine U captures the band in one of their most pivotal years for stage improvisation. both sets are loaded with boundary pushing compositions and the septet is in full experimental mode, ready to push many of their showcase songs to their fullest extent. despite the drops, cuts, gouges, and warts, i'm more than happy to be a victim of this late '68 recording.

https://archive.org/details/gd1968-12-07.sbd.miller.88674.sbeok.flac16

2/19/73: international amphitheatre, chicago, IL.

a few short weeks after the unveiling of the wall of sound at stanford’s maples pavilion and a revelatory performance at madison's dane county coliseum, the dead headed east to play 3 chicago shows with the new riders of the purple sage. the first of these was held at the long-standing indoor arena on the city’s west side, home to a burgeoning wrestling scene, classic car shows, and the world hockey association’s chicago cougars. prior to this, the amphitheatre was noted for being the site of the 1957 elvis presley concerts where the king donned his now legendary gold lamé suit for the first time.

we only have 80-minutes from the single set performance, but it’s hot, hot, hot. in fact, the quality and energy is so damn conspicuous that dick latvala wrote "i have only found a cassette of bear's that had a very stunning, if not shocking, jam...that simply has to be heard to understand how good things can get!" latvala was shamelessly partial to february of ’73, often espousing that the shows that month contained possibly the best music the dead played the whole year. that’s debatable, but this chicago fragment is surely a solid contender.

what becomes immediately obvious to discerning listeners is how present phil is in the mix. the tape begins with a jaunty he’s gone, and the harmonic tone of big brown is ever present. lesh is eager to push the band further in and, he eventually does, propelling them to dive full-on into truckin.' tonight's take is spirited with classic grateful dead rhythms and instrumentation, including a lush outro jam. but it’s during the other one where the bassist fully takes charge, driving the ensemble into parts unknown. the first jam flows smoothly, and then explosively, before trickling into silence. jerry, bob, and keith step back a bit to let phil and billy take a fast paced duet; phil's bass work is completely unkempt and kreutzmann deftly colors in the spaces with subtle, sinuous kit work. a short drum solo and some garcia noodling later, lesh sounds the big intro to the other one. the verse comes quickly and then another heated exploratory jam ensues. a subtle passage follows before a tape flip drops us into the opening notes of eyes of the world. jerry finds the pulse that is the perfect tempo for transitioning from the other one. after the funky vamp over Emaj7 introduction, garcia and company spend the next 20 minutes exploring variations on the theme and the underlying rhythms within the E- and A-major tonality. the third version of eyes is exquisite and the 7/8 section is already fully formed. lesh continues to play across the bar lines, building tension with polyrhythmic combinations and conflicting metres. and, as he has all evening, he finds a way to seize the jam and lead the musicians into what will become the classic end of eyes riff (although it’s clear that they are still trying to figure out what to do with the outro bit). tonight, they simply pass into another transitional phase, and then quiet down for a slow segue into a stirring reading of china doll.

a raucous sugar magnolia and an even more raucous casey jones rounds off the performance. it is a fitting end to an extremely well-played set. based on the power and inventiveness of this performance, i’m guessing there were more than a few contented hoosiers pouring out of the old international amphitheater on this winter night in chi-town.

https://archive.org/details/gd1973-02-19.set2.sbd.miller.83023.flac16