11/7/93 until he organizes his best potential

wrong show, wrong band, great pic: 9/29/93 by Robbi Cohn

 

I have alluded to loving this overlooked show before, so for its 30th anniversary (at the eleventh hour, of course), I figured I would kick myself to write about Jerry Garcia again and say a few things about it.

In his great book Every Song Ever (2016), Ben Ratliff observed that being a deadhead -- specifically, collecting and listening to all these shows -- means "to practice long stretches of suspended judgment until the group organizes its best potential."

It is listening in the long view, with a basic understanding that the band’s music only significantly changes when the body gives out; otherwise, that music represents one long discourse, all of it intrinsically valuable.

If you enjoy Garcia's music from his final years, then surely this must be true for you, whether you think of it this way or not. It is certainly true for me, but not for reasons of "I was there!" nostalgia or relativism ("I guess Jerry sounds pretty good... for a guy who could barely keep his head up and was near the end"). There are things I hear Jerry play in 1993 that hold up as being as powerful as anything he ever did, although very different from his work as a younger man. In 1993, Garcia's best potential, as Ratliff would put it, was not the same potential as 1973 or 1983. Assessing the work of artists who rely on technical ability (like musicians) as they age can be challenging, given that our terms of engagement with their work often focuses on innovation or "development" rather than consolidation and refinement. Jazz critic Stanley Crouch argues this about Louis Armstrong:

As maturity increases, the speed of perception and experience becomes denser, fewer details are needed to recognize essential meanings. While the younger person is still contemplating, the old master has moved on to the next point, digesting through the shorthand made possible by the passage of many moons. In art, that law allows the individual gesture to take on greater resonance. The best of Louis Armstrong's work after fifty proves that his expressive ideas didn't reach their peak until he was nearly sixty. (Crouch, Considering Genius)

I realize I am wandering out on the thin ice of romanticizing "old Jerry," and let's be real: his physical health was in real deterioration by 1993, and his mental/emotional well-being was not being helped by, to use another shorthand, the Burden of Being Jerry. And yet, all those shortcomings aside, the old master Jerry does make some gestures here that do take on a greater resonance for me, and hopefully for you too.   

So: Nov 7, 1993 at the newly rechristened USAir Arena (formerly the Capitol Centre) of Landover, MD.  The JGB's final east coast tour, very close to the abrupt end of the great David Kemper era, but traveling in fine style nevertheless. From what I understand, this particular venue was known then for its particularly tough security, and the two circulating audience tapes both suffer from that.  I personally prefer the earlier unknown Schoeps source which to my ears is slightly more palatable than the tape made by the usually reliable Clay Brennecke (no fault of his own; he gets busted early on, sounds like he bribes his way out of a pickle, and gets the rest of the show, albeit with a bit more discretion, I'm sure)

• Not much to say about the start of the first set, but ol' Jerry was saved more than once by the adage, "when the going gets tough, the tough slow down." And the first important thing that happens is the late-set Señor: my single favorite performance of this amazing song, thanks to its guitar solo. Find me a better one (official released included). Four choruses of perfection -- okay, then two more choruses of unnecessary but by no means bad extra stuff. Vocals have their rust spots and occasional brainfarts, but that's rarely on my rubric when he is playing so well. I suspend my judgment until the group organizes its best potential.  

• Everybody Needs Somebody to Love.  I have more to say in general about Garcia's stripped-down arrangement of this already simple song (all good things), but by fall 93 it had turned into a behemoth, a slow-rolling tribal stomp, and a thing of glory. This is not quite the best that it got -- at the moment, I would nominate 11/3/93 for that (another post) -- but this is pretty damn near the top.  14 1/2 minutes of a giant ball of energy just rolling around and around and around the stadium.

• The second set opens with another all-timer: show me a better The Way You Do the Things You Do. Another tune that warrants a more in-depth look sometime, it was performed in a straightforward Motown-goes-barband style for eight years, left the repertoire for six, then reappeared in 1990 with a reggae-ish sway, courtesy of Jahn Kahn's most memorable bassline and a gently spacey groove.  The end jam would swell and occasionally became ground for some inspiration to blossom, and this version is the epitome of that (although see also 11/18/93 for a sprawling 20+ version that is also a treasure).  Jerry grooves along, slides into some jazzy comping for a minute and a half, but never fully cedes to Melvin Seals. Instead, he builds tension by playing not much but teasingly just enough, finally eases back into more proper lead guitar, but the focus seems more rhythmic than melodic, and then finally lets all that tension boil over (@12:35ish) with some climactic fanning for about 40 seconds. This will be a very nice surprise if you primarily associate this tune with a few jammy minutes of light, bubbly grooviness.

• Money Honey. Not quite a rarity, but not a setlist staple either, and my hunch is that it was generally a good sign when Jerry felt like belting this one out.  Again, not perfect lyrically, but he delivers a few choruses of divebomb blues with his claws out.

• Knockin' On Heaven's Door. A semi-rarity; the only one of the tour, and only played three more times onstage in his life (once with the JGB, twice with the GD). You know how you feel about this song, and this version is lovely.

• Don't Let Go.  All-timer? No. But damn good, I say. Appreciate how Jerry playfully sings way down looow in the final round of "hold me tight and don't let go"s, while Melvin mimics his vocal. Then he tears the heck out of the jam, brings it up to a nice climax, then collapses into lonesome space for a few minutes, the Hammond B3 framing Jerry's moaning in the moonlight, before he brings it back home. Not too many Don't Let Go's were ending in free space anymore (list forthcoming, hopefully?), so that's a nice touch. Overall: a mighty fine Don't Let Go.

• Mississippi Moon.  A real rarity for the 90's, and the only one of the tour again. Again, there are some rust spots on the vocals and the turnarounds, but Jerry digs in for the solo, and then digs in again for a unusual(?) second solo after Melvin's featured spot (which was usually the piece's climax).

• After all that, I wish that Tangled Up in Blue came crashing into the end of this set like a missile, but it does not. It's a little slow and maybe too carefully paced at first, but he gets the truck out on the highway and invites you to ride it out with him. He might be coasting a bit during the solos, but as the jam begins, he seems to pause for a breath, braces himself, and channels some that Leo energy into a regal final jam. There's nice energy bump just before the 11 min mark that gets us across the finish line, but it all sounds pretty good to me.

Best potential organized? I would say so, yes. One long discourse, all of it intrinsically valuable. So I will end, as I ought to, with a salute to the tapers.  Midway through Tangled, there's a moment when the high frequencies drop out, when (I assume) the mics are lowered and hidden. Then @6:45, the quality increases and, with a "whoo!" of relief, one taper hollers to the other, "the things we have to go through!"  Thank goodness you did!  Thank you tapers!

scan courtesy Fate Music/JGMF

make good money, five dollars day

Um, did you know about this?  I did not.  Among other things I learned: PARCO is a big chain of Japanese department stores.  This is from 1993.

courtesy GDAO

And, if that wasn't weird enough:

Interesting, indeed.  I hope this paid for at least a year of college for one of his kids.

That is all.  Carry on.

June '93: this could be the last time (maybe? I don't know?)

I'm on summer hours, once again.  This one has been in the can and just been sitting for a while.

courtesy @fromthelot

Last month, I took it upon myself to listen to all of the Dead's June 1993 tour, which you may understandably think would be a thankless task.  June '93 is occasionally mentioned as being the last consistently "good" Dead tour -- although different folks draw that line in many different places in the 1990's.  While I've heard nearly all of the JGB's 1993 shows, the Dead that year were a mostly blank spot for me, so I figured it would make for an educational contrast, at the very least.  Besides, consistency is ultimately interesting in theory, but what I really want are the best performances and I don't much care if I have to wade through a few middling shows to find the good stuff.  I was surprised, however, that I found plenty of fine performances and that listening to all of these rarely felt like a chore.  Many folks, however, may appreciate some pointers, so here's my take on it.

The specs of the tour have been covered in many other places.  The Modern Deadhead has one good take on what was happening.  But, in brief:

1. This was their second tour with their in-ear monitor system.  The bandmembers were on record as having loved it for providing more detailed, individually tailored, and controlled monitor mixes, and for cutting down a great deal of the noise onstage.  Healy had moved most of their amps under the stage, so nearly all of the sound was coming through the PA system.  The fans were, by most accounts, not as pleased by the change in the sound.

2. Dan Healy was still running their front-of-house sound, but things seem to have come to a head this tour over how he was mixing the opening acts (Sting opened most shows) and, according to the gossip, Bob Weir.  If the circulating sbd tapes reflect Healy's house mix, this doesn't seem particularly to be the case, at least with regard to Weir.  But who knows?  Healy left the band in March 1994.

3. This was Garcia's final tour with his Rosebud guitar (1990?-1993).  The much-maligned Lightning Bolt was introduced in August (see here).

4. Weir's voice was in really rough shape, and he had surgery on his vocal cords not too long after.

5. The other big sticking point for many folks is the raft of new original and cover songs that the band introduced in 1992 and early 1993.  You know 'em, you know how you feel about 'em.  For me, Days Between and Liberty were reliable winners from Garcia, while So Many Roads and Lazy River Road were solid songs that began to feel increasingly over-sentimental every time I heard them.  Eternity and Easy Answers were dinged irreparably by sub-par lyrics, though Easy Answers' groove did begin to grow on me (not an opinion shared by most, I know).  Lesh singing Broken Arrow was charming enough, particularly when it prompted some nice Garcia soloing (see 6/23 for a nice one).


So, children, what does it all mean? 

As much as the narrative of the band's final five years tends to (or used to?) center predominantly on Jerry's health, addictions, and decline, there was surprisingly little of any of that on display here.  For nearly all of this tour, Jerry usually sounded like he was doing just fine.  Comparisons to [insert your favorite era here] inevitably may not hold up to whatever expectations you may have, but you may also be pleasantly surprised: I certainly was not expecting Jerry to sound as good as he did in most of this music. 

As much as that same narrative tends to skewer Vince Welnick, I didn't see much call for that here, either.  Granted, I don't care for his voice, but I can listen around it -- and it's not like anyone else was nailing their vocal parts, either.  Welnick's keyword work, however, was consistently very good, and I heard just as much piano in the mix as his other, more novel MIDI sounds (which, to my ears, were generally no worse than a lot of Brent Mydland's synth patches).  I don't think his playing deserves most of the flack that it gets from critics of this final period.

courtesy Bill Smythe, GDAO

The Jerry was out of it, Vince was no good, therefore the 90's suck line, at least as it relates to these shows, doesn't hold up.  Yet it's hard to deny that this still sounds like a band in the twilight of their greatness, although not quite on their last legs.  Why?  There were a couple factors that get eclipsed by the Jerry/Vince axis of blame, but imho contribute far more to the problematic aspects of these shows than not.  Newer books about the band's last days (David Browne's, Joel Selvin's, Kreutzmann's, and so on) emphasize just how tired of it everyone had become, and also point to the unintended effect of those new ear monitors.  For as much as everyone could fine-tune their personal mixes, they seem to have gone too far in that direction, playing more for their own mix rather than the group dynamic, and further isolating each from the other -- some have claimed that some bandmembers purposefully tuned each other out altogether.  Some listeners put down the "sterile" quality of the sbd recordings, but I didn't find the aud tapes to be all that different, since the band's set-up had become, for all intents and purposes, pretty similar to an actual recording studio: the amps off in isolation and everyone hearing each other through headphones with different personalized mixes.  As a musician, that setup makes it easier to hear what you sound like, but harder to sense what everyone else actually sounds like as an ensemble in real life.  That's what I think was the essence of the problem, moreso than any obvious musical shortcomings.

For my own listening, I went with the sbds, which were generally pretty crisp, pleasant listens.  Again, the general wisdom among some heads is that aud tapes are the way to go for this era, but to my ears the sbds weren't bad at all and reflected the same mix the audience heard (unlike, say, sbds from the early 80's, where a lot of sound from the stage amps didn't make it into the PA mix).  Weir seemed lost in the mix earlier in the tour, but this mostly fixed itself after a few shows and he seemed, if anything, a tad loud for the rest of them (though, to be fair to everyone, I'm sure Weir's style and his various unusual timbres/effects were tricky to mix smoothly with the rest of the band).

The highlights:

6/5, 6/6 - Giants Stadium
https://archive.org/details/gd93-06-05.sbd.wiley.8328.sbeok.shnf
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-06.sbd.gustin.tetzeli.fix-34835.100023.flac16

The first two shows were the most uneven of the tour, each with some embarrassing trainwrecks but also one major keeper apiece.  6/5 sports a run-of-the-mill Scarlet with short transition jam into a monster Fire on the Mountain that stands up well in the company of many the better 90's versions.  Garcia drops one verse and only plays two solos, so it clocks in at a shorter 11 min, but both are exciting and dramatic, and exemplify thoughtful 90's Jerry at his best.  [edit: thanks to David Leopold for pointing out that I failed to mention the unique debut of Easy Answers in the middle of Music Never Stopped, a strange but effective move that they pull off pretty well!]
6/6 has patches of uninspired playing, but Garcia incites the band to some old-fashioned fury with a titanic Playing in the Band that showcases their "late" style at its best: rather than piling on the turmoil and dissonance until it explodes, Garcia seems more intent on playing more variably with the density and mood here (one great moment is when things start getting hairy, Garcia turns on the MIDI flute, which is both effective and almost funny) and it ends not with a dramatic meltdown but with an opaque variation on the Playin' riff.  Very interesting and very, very good.

6/8, 6/9 - The Palace, Auburn Hills, MI
https://archive.org/details/gd93-06-08.sbd.stephens.6673.sbeok.shnf
https://archive.org/details/gd93-06-09.sbd.miller.13601.sbeok.shnf

Overall 6/8 is a solid, much tighter show than the prior two.  A big, high-energy Bird Song with a hot climax is worth hearing (although note the contrast with the also-excellent but quite different 6/26 performance).  Garcia's vocals are particularly good at the end of New Speedway Boogie and in He's Gone, and fans of Standing On the Moon (which I am not) have pointed out that this was the first time he extended the vocals at the end.  The guy must have had an extra cup of tea tonight!  6/9 is also consistently good, but really picks up in the final stretch.  The Drums>Space segments from this period are often praised as being the only real deep diving the band did anymore: I found less variation than I expected, though, with both segments following a pretty regular arc from night to night.  6/9, however, stood out as definitely worth hearing: some haunting churchbell sounds in Drums, a stunning transition (Garcia's melodicism is often on full display in some of these moments, this one in particular), and an exciting Space with a near-Tiger jam and some eerie lines from Welnick to bring it down to a close.  Garcia nails a surprisingly wonderful Wharf Rat with some excellent soloing; and then, of all things, Around and Around surprised me with an extended "jazzy" ending without any vocal reprise from Weir.  Goes to show! 

6/11 - Buckeye Lake, Hebron, OH
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-11.sdb.tetzeli-fix-19217.34399.shnf

This is likely the best known show of this tour?  It's probably the most consistently good one from start to finish.  I didn't feel like its highlights were quite as good as ones from other more inconsistent shows, but this may be the one to pick for a single smooth listen.  The Jack Straw > Foolish Heart > Same Thing combo that begins the night is a great ride, and the second set is in a groove all the way through -- even Corrina gets a nice jam at the end as they slowly pull away from the sructure -- and the Watchtower > Black Peter are both as hot as you want them to be.

6/13 - Rich Stadium, Buffalo, NY
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-13.sbd.miller.105491.flac16

This is one of the clunkers.  Nothing bad happens, but nothing much else happens, either, largely due to an uninspired setlist that is light on the improv.  It occurred to me during the decent Deal jam that Garcia was pushing as hard as he regularly did with the JGB that year, but that the Dead didn't seem willing or able to go there with him.  Days Between always seems to save post-Drumz from mediocrity, as dark and heavy a tune as it was, and this one is a beauty.

6/15, 6/16 - Freedom Hall, Louisville, KY
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-15.137334.sbd.miller.flac1648
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-16.137335.sbd.miller.flac1648

The first night has a cracklin' Althea that is now on my list of personal favorites, and there's an overall good energy to the 2nd set, although a very gentle, meditative Space and the only Morning Dew of the tour are the only big standouts.  The 16th has another long Foolish Heart that's nearly as good as the more famous one on 6/11, a very hot jam in Saint, and a lovely and focused Stella Blue, but otherwise isn't a remarkable show.

6/18, 6/19 - Soldier Field, Chicago, IL
https://archive.org/details/gd93-06-18.sbd.miller.13784.sbeok.shnf
https://archive.org/details/gd93-06-19.sbd.miller.28298.sbeok.flacf

Both of these were B-level shows for the tour, never rising much above decent.  Still, though, I was impressed how even the most meat-and-potatoes shows were still okay listens, albeit nothing I need to hear again.  6/18 gets the nod for an engaged Playing > Uncle John's and a fine China Doll.

6/21, 6/22, 6/23 - Deer Creek, Noblesville, IN
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-21.sbd.miller.108982.flac16
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-22.sbd.miller.108983.flac16
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-23.sbd.miller.108984.flac16
 
The first night starts off right with a fantastic Jack Straw, definitely one of the best post-Hornsby versions I've heard, then rolls on through a great 1st set, although nothing much happens in the 2nd.  Likewise, 6/22 kicks off with a doozy: a wonderful Help > Slip > Frank with a really fantastic jam in Slipknot -- seriously, that bit from @1:50-2:30 is unlike anything I've heard them do in a Slipknot jam before -- then features a spirited progression of pre-Drums tune, ending with a very long vocal coda to He's Gone (almost 5 min!).  6/23 has the big jam of the tour, at the heart an otherwise so-so show.  Wave to the Wind, not anyone's favorite new tune, is actually done rather well, giving way to a Terrapin that sports a major jam afterwards, with Jerry taking off a jackrabbit and blazing through 12 minutes of some of the best post-Terrapin jamming that they ever did, any era.  A rare mini Dark Star pops up after Space, followed by a lovely Wheel to end a fantastic segment that may be the best place to start if you're skeptical about an endeavor like this.

6/25, 6/26 - RFK Stadium, Washington, DC
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-25.fm-monitor.koucky.91249.flac16
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-25.sbd.miller.110519.flac16
https://archive.org/details/gd1993-06-26.sbd.miller.110520.flac16

There's a pretty priceless recording of the soundcheck, showing the Dead at their most endearingly dysfunctional: I'll save the blow-by-blow, but it's worth 20 minutes of your day.  Bruce Hornsby sits in for both shows -- on accordion, unfortunately.  I'm an open-minded guy, but the thing seems to clutter up an already full mix and rarely adds much beyond a weezy, monochromatic texture.  6/25 is the better of the two shows.  The 1st set sports fine versions of Half Step, Althea, Cassidy, and Cumberland Blues, and is worth a listen on headphones to hear Garcia's and Hornsby's plainly audible chatter to each other between songs.  Pre-drums is excellent with a smokin' China>Rider, a very hot Saint, a crushing jam in Uncle John's with Garcia taking an extra lap for good measure and then twisting the final riff right into his Corrina lick, which cruises along on the momentum (not often the case), and then Drums sports one of the more titanic Beam segments of the tour.  Whoosh! 

For the last night, Garcia popped in for the end of Sting's set (who had opened most of the shows this tour), sounding off-the-cuff but pretty good, all things considered, with Sting's band making room for him to do his thing.  The show itself is decent, but overall not an inspiring finish.  Feel Like a Stranger, however, may be an all-timer, sans Hornsby and with Garcia playing it to the hilt; dynamic and exciting from start to finish, and Brown-Eyed Women sounds great coming right after.  Bird Song is a more meandering, psychedelic version, a nice ramble through several peaks, valleys, and woods, and Garcia shreds up the ending of Picasso Moon in fine style.  But Hornsby's wheezing around for most of this, and the 2nd set is only saved by a solid Playing jam, slow-burning and pleasantly weird, then a Terrapin that's followed by more of usual hazy, spacey jam with none of the wild energy of 6/23.  Things peter out in the final stretch, and it's all over.


Ups, downs, the Grateful Dead in a nutshell.  Covering whole tours, warts and all, can be a risky undertaking for the burnout factor, and I think it's a testimony to the band that even in the more bland patches, I rarely felt any ennui or boredom.  I may yet work up the energy to give a close listen to the following Aug '93 Eugene shows (yet another "last great Dead shows" dividing line for some), but I left this June '93 tour feeling pretty good about a band that was slowly collapsing offstage and who's end was a scant two years away.

Aug 93: JGB up north and at home

all stubs courtesy gdsets.com

Here are three JGB shows that are worth a look from the summer of 1993; all are pretty overlooked (afaik), but one of them is one of the best shows of the year.  I have some semi-inchoate thoughts on what it means to listen to Garcia in '93, which can wait for now -- but, in short, I think '93 was a great year for the JGB.  Not consistently great, but the great shows are, for me, some really great examples of late-era Jerry at his best, with an incandescence and thoughtfulness to his playing that's not always there in earlier years when he was ostensibly in "better" shape.  I think anyone with an interest in the full scope of his career owes it to themselves to hear the best of these '93 shows.

For now, though: in August '93, the JGB and the Dead had an unusual piggybacking schedule: the JGB played a weekend in the Pacific northwest on Aug 7-8, then at Shoreline on the 14th, and the Dead played Autzen Stadium in Eugene on Aug 21-22 and Shoreline on Aug 25-27.  Garcia had all of July off, so maybe he was well rested and in relatively good shape.  He also had a new axe to test drive: Blair Jackson's GD Gear book (265) reports that his final guitar, the Cripe "lightning bolt," was debuted at Shoreline this month.  But it looks like Garcia was playing it at the GD Eugene shows, so I assume this means the 8/14 JGB show?  The Cripe’s clean, upper-midrange, almost acoustic-sounding tone was and continues to be controversial among many heads (see this blog, however, for an interesting defense), but for whatever reason, Garcia didn't opt to use this tone for any of these JGB shows, nor any from the fall.

8/22/93 with Cripe, courtesy dead.net

8/14/93 Shoreline

Two runs at Shoreline, to start and end the summer, were a GD tradition from 1989-95 (Shoreline in Oct '95 seems to have been the final booked GD show), but the JGB only played there three times, and one of those was covering for the Dead in 1990, who canceled after Brent Mydland's death.  The '92 JGB show was part of a 6-day California tour, but 8/14/93 was a standalone, preceding the Dead's August shows by a week.  Although the ticket stub indicates this show was part of the very un-Jerry sounding "Pepsi Music Festival," maybe an ulterior motive of this gig was to test-drive the new guitar?  Part of me wonders if it actually was debuted the week before (see below), but judging from Garcia's playing tonight, he was definitely having fun putting his new axe through its paces.  Everything is unusually well played, with that extra burst of feeling that puts a knowing grin on your face.  '93 JGB shows sometimes either take a minute to get rolling, or fade a bit on the last lap, but tonight is a strong one from start to finish.  Forever Young is a powerhouse version with some outstanding solo work, as is Like a Road, and Strugglin' Man and Money Honey are firing on all cylinders.  But the real surprise is the closer: Lay Down Sally was a rare choice for a set-closer, and Garcia makes the most of it here.  With all due respect to 11/12/93, this is my favorite JGB performance of this tune: unlike most versions that are content to groove along in 2nd gear, this one has an arc to it that really takes off around @6:20 when Garcia stomps on his wahwah pedal (plus some other effect?) and gets pretty cosmic for the JGB.  Yeah!  The old man's still got it, kids.

The Shining Star singalongs seem to have been, not surprisingly, an east coast phenomenon (based on the tapes anyway), so there's no sea of voices here, but this one is elevated again by some particularly thoughtful, lyrical, and assertive soloing.  Garcia could be inclined to wax rhapsodic on this tune (I believe that the longest ever Garcia guitar solo ever, over 10 minutes, is in one of these 93 Shining Stars), but this one is punchy and focused.  Typical throwaways like You Never Can Tell and Wonderful World sparkle like small jewels, The Maker is a typically strong reading, and then comes the real litmus test.  This Don't Let Go delivers, and then some.  Given that this was the signature JGB "jam tune," it's hard for me not to feel a little let down that most 90's versions don't actually vary all that much, save for how much energy is behind Garcia's attack.  Every once in a while, though, Garcia would push the jam off its well-beaten path into woolier deep space, a place he rarely went with the JGB after 1978.  Tonight's one of those nights: space, noise, and feedback (no new-fangled MIDI bassoons here!).  I am a happy man.  The vocal reprise is skipped as he steers on into a truly titanic Lucky Old Sun; what distinguishes one version from the other, for me, is usually the quality of his vocals, but tonight he leans into those solos a little harder than usual and the effect is tremendous.  Midnight Moonlight is what it is, but coming at the end of all that, it's more of a celebratory stomp than a "drink up and go home, folks" last call.

The aud tape is a fine pull by Larry Gindoff, the only source in circulation and a great listen.  I don't know why this show doesn't seem to have gathered the accolades of other great shows of this period, but, imho, you owe it to yourself to check it out.

8/7 Seattle, 8/8 Portland

Neither of these shows hits me like Shoreline does, but they are not without their own highlights.  Given that the JGB hadn't been to the northwest since 1984 and that the Dead's planned 20th-anniversary-of-Veneta shows the year before had been canceled because of Garcia's health scare, I can imagine that the general mood at these two open air afternoon shows must have been as festive as could be.  A dance party with the Jerry Garcia Band!?  Well shucks.

Seattle is strong all around and Garcia sounds like he's in good spirits.  He even introduces the band!  A rare first set Maker is fantastic, Like a Road is another stunning version, and Lay Down Sally is an above-average chooglin' version, but not in the same league as Shoreline.  Shining Star, like Shoreline's, is a really commanding version that belts it out, and Garcia sounds like he's pushing himself on Don't Let Go tonight; there's no spacey digression or anything too out of the ordinary, but it's satisfying nevertheless!  Overall not an outstanding night, but a very good show.

Portland, however, has higher highs and lower lows (in the vocal dept, anyway).  Unusually for the JGB, Garcia is noodling extra hard tonight between songs, lots of futzing and adjusting, which makes me wonder if maybe the new guitar was actually being roadtested tonight.  His playing is really energized, but his voice is in noticeably worse shape than the night before, and it continues to deteriorate throughout.  The first set is excellent.  A totally in-the-groove Cats-Mission opener and some extra soloing in TWLWMYD all bode well, but check out the second solo in Stoned Me and the first solo in The Maker!  So good.  But the usual penultimate Sisters & Brothers ushers in... the end of the set.  Hmm.  The second set sounds like Garcia's spirit was still willing, but the flesh was crapping out: things seem a little shorter than usual, and his voice remains ragged and worn.  TWYDTTYD sports a particularly fine jam (sidenote: '93 versions of this song deserve a separate post), and then things settle into a fun but unremarkable groove until rallying at the end for a powerhouse Dixie Down and a very nice Tangled.  Not a top tier '93 show, but a satisfying complement to the Shoreline show, and the highlights would make for an excellent 'bonus disc' to Shoreline's official release (I'm not holding my breath).  Kudos, too, to Mark Severson who pulled off an excellent recording with some extra flavor between songs courtesy of his buddies, who all seem to be having a fine time.

At some point, it would be fun to do an overview of the fall '93 tour, but who knows when that will happen.  There is one lesser-known show, however, that tops 8/14 Shoreline as my personal favorite, and deserves a post's worth of ravings...

11/12/93: David Murray's blues

by Joe Ryan, via GDAO

This started out as a comment to JGMF's write-up of this show, but it ballooned into a full post's worth of ramblings (lucky you!).  The JGB show on 11/12/93 at Madison Square Garden featuring jazz great David Murray is a popular (or at least very well-known) show, but, while it's historically significant, I don't think it's mostly very good.  While his first time with the Dead two months earlier was outstanding (the Bird Song! the Estimated!) and his 1995 return isn't bad either, this JGB show is redeemed by one out-of-left-field standout performance that belongs on a list of highlights from the year.  Otherwise, this show overshadows some much better but lesser-known performances from '93 while prompting the question of what exactly was going on.

From the start, Murray is playing a lot of saxophone.  A lot.  During Garcia's vocals, during Garcia's solos, just all over the place.  To my ears, How Sweet It Is is a near-trainwreck and Strugglin' Man is the low point, with an unbelievable amount of crossed wires.  What the hell was going on?  Could they hear each other?  TLEO, Forever Young, and Money Honey at least start to get their ducks in a row, but Murray's playing is way over on the abstract side of things and, while the audience cheers every one of his big screaming high-note climaxes, the effect is almost surreal.  But, after strangely starting and stopping Everybody Needs Somebody (the only time I can recall hearing him do that), Garcia cranks up Lay Down Sally and the whole room lifts off -- Murray gets his blows in first, but clears the way for Garcia to take the jam way further than usual.  This is one of the most exciting performances of this tune, and definitely one of the longest.  Um, okay then!  Read into it what you will, but it's a pretty sweet note to end on after a sour first set.  I don't get any sense, however, that Murray "cut Garcia to shreds" (see below) or that Garcia was responding competitively -- rather, it's more like Murray either couldn't hear him for most of the set, or was just going for it without much care, and Garcia kind of shrugged his shoulders and let it roll, before finally belting it out at the very end.  But of course I have no idea what was really going on.

The second set is better overall, but at times it's in more of a relieved okay, things finally are starting to go right kind of way.  Depending on your tolerance for Murray's style, Shining Star is or is not kind of a mess, but there's an interesting moment when Murray's solo gets increasingly hairy and Garcia jumps in with some flurrying, high energy stuff to complement what he's doing (this starts around @7:45).  It's a neat moment where Garcia seems to be trying to make something out of a situation that has gone off into uncharted waters, but it's also one of the only moments they seem to actually be engaging with each other.  Maybe Garcia was just out of sorts: his vocals sound completely out of synch with the band on You Never Can Tell, not the first time that night he flubbed his singing, and I wonder if he wasn't also having a bit of an off-night, regardless of Murray's presence.  Murray sits out for The Maker, which provides a bit of a breath of fresh air, although it's not a particularly strong version on its own merits (they were really nailing this tune on this tour).  And then comes the moment that should have attained some real lift-off, Don't Let Go.  Modal vamps!  Open-ended spacey jamming!  Jaaazz!  Murray gets out his bass clarinet and things are sounding pretty sweet.  Garcia hoots and hollers the final round of "hold me tight and don't let go's" and stomps on his wahwah pedal right out of the gate.  The stars are aligning!  But... I dunno, it's a fine jam, but Garcia and Murray seem to just play through each other rather than with each other.  Again, I'm wondering more about the sound onstage and whether they weren't able to hook it up for more mundane reasons.  Murray drops out for a minute to switch back to his tenor sax, but Garcia skips the chance to go off into deep space and returns to the vocals instead, and I can't help thinking it was a missed opportunity all around.  Rats.  Fortunately, someone seems to have finally tapped Murray on the shoulder, because his contribution to That Lucky Old Sun is much more fitting, and he actually keeps it relatively within the lines and even plays some suitable horn riffs in the closing Tangled Up in Blue.  Garcia, again, delivers the goods at the last minute, belting out a powerful final Tangled jam that builds to a solid fanning climax that I'm sure left everyone smiling after a pretty perplexing show.

JGMF quotes Gary Lambert in his piece, who relays that no one from Garcia's camp actually told Murray what kind of music the JGB played or what the expectations were.  I can certainly believe it, but I give Murray a lot more credit than that: musicians sit in with other musicians without much advance preparation all the time, and good musicians adjust on the fly -- especially good jazz musicians, who (should) have the ears to pick up on song forms and harmonic patterns relatively quickly and improvise over them.  I don't doubt for a second that David Murray is such a musician.  Jim Powell says Murray cut Garcia to shreds that night, but I don't think so.  Murray plays and plays and plays and, well, he overplays, and imho very little of it sounds "better" than Garcia or even on the same page.  To be fair, Murray seems like he's mixed low for much of the night -- to give soundman John Cutler the benefit of the doubt, I'm sure it was a struggle working with Murray's wider dynamic range (on an acoustic instrument, in a basketball arena) and maybe Murray didn't have much monitor support... but it's also possible that Cutler was mixing him down for other reasons.  I don't know if he had played with singers or pop musicians like Branford Marsalis did, but it seems weird to me that a musician of Murray's stature and experience wouldn't have eased off the gas a bit (see this interview, particularly comment #5, for a number of things Marsalis did that Murray doesn't seem to do).  I don't think that's just because no one bothered to tell him that the JGB were essentially a rhythm & blues band.

And, lest you think I'm just not a fan of David Murray: while I can't say I've heard a lot of his work, I have several albums of his that I think are incredible (1980's Ming would be the starter) and I very much like his 1997 Dark Star album.  If you're not familiar with him outside of the Dead, Murray is one of the major jazz saxophonists of the 80's/90's, and was part of a generation of post-loft NYC avant-gardists who made the innovations of Albert Ayler and Coltrane coexist with "the tradition" that so much of the post-Coltrane players had rejected.  Like a lot of those musicians (Henry Threadgill and Arthur Blythe are two contemporaries you may know), Murray was certainly known for a particular sound but could play in a variety of styles very effectively.  To give two then-contemporary examples to consider alongside his JGB performance, try Shakill's Warrior (1991),  a "back to the roots" project revisiting the organ/tenor combos of the 50's-60's [interestingly, this band's guitarist, Stan Franks, played a few shows with the earliest Phil & Friends lineup and was originally slated to play lead guitar in the original 1998 lineup of the Other Ones, before he was replaced by Mark Karan and Steve Kimock].  Or try Murray's guest appearance on the Skatalites' recording of his own tune Flowers for Albert (1994; Murray takes the first solo). Neither of these are necessarily representative of his typical sound, but I think they show that Murray could have found something to fit the JGB's sound.  If he had wanted to boot it out like Jr. Walker on How Sweet It Is, I am confident that he could have gone there while still sounding like David Murray.

Coming soon: some of the aforementioned much better but lesser-known performances from 1993.

by Joe Ryan, via GDAO

postscript: Murray's spot with the Dead on 9/22/93 was fantastic, but when the Dead came back to the NYC area in 1994, Murray did not appear with them.  While the Dead were at Nassau Coliseum in March 1994, Murray instead sat in with a Dead cover band, the Zen Tricksters, at the Wetlands Preserve in lower Manhattan (a funny-shaped bar down by the Holland Tunnel that was the NYC jamband scene's headquarters, if you never went there) for a full 3+ hour show.  It's hard not to wonder what Murray thought about that, but I don't remember anything being wrong with the music at all.  I had the tapes way back when, and I liked them a lot -- but that was over 20 years ago, so I withhold judgment until they appear digitally at LMA.  I would love to hear that again.