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