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

Legion of Mary: never meant to last? (duh?)

The New York Times reported, on April 4, 1975, on the Legion of Mary's arrival in New York:

[Garcia's and Saunders's] current quintet... is fixed enough to be considered a real unit, Mr. Garcia reported the other day from San Francisco.

Mr. Garcia is very pleased by the quality of the current group. “We're more on the relaxed than the hurried side of the metronome,” he said. “We get a real nice conversational quality in our music.”

The East Coast swing lasts only three weeks, but Mr. Garcia said that Legion of Mary would make a longer tour later on, and that there are “tentative plans” for a record.
 

Almost a year later to the day (April 1, 1976), Garcia gave an interview to The Music Gig magazine:

Garcia's association with Merle Saunders last year [1975] produced many a sloppy concert and severely tested the endurance of the audience. "Yeah, we burned out on it too," he allows. "That was a very weird band it was never meant to go out and tour" [sic].

(note that this 1976 interview is the same one where Garcia praises the JGB's harmonious consonance, as opposed to the Dead's dissonance and divergent viewpoints)

 

No big revelations here, I guess?  The breakup of the Legion of Mary and the larger Garcia/Saunders partnership is still foggy (see JGMF on the precise-ish dating of their split and other thoughts), and it seems likely that the principals wouldn't necessarily agree on the real reason, even if we had firm statements on the record, which we mostly do not.  I don't see any real mystery: it had run its course, and Garcia wasn't interested in moving further with a band that played this particular hodgepodge of music: contemporary soul and funk, extended jazz instrumentals, and Garcia's own bag of favored Americana.  The comment about it being a band that "was never meant to go out and tour" belies his earlier 1975 plug for more touring and a record, but it is still probably true in the grander scheme of things: ultimately, it was the club band that was meant to work late at night in laid back local haunts, not up on big stages to crowds of hollering fans coast to coast.  It seems impossible to overstate the influence that Saunders had on his playing, and Garcia clearly had a great time working out on some unfamiliar material (that eventually became familiar and then, maybe, overfamiliar) in his downtime away from the dissonance of the Grateful Dead.  But that's not the same as making it a thing, as the kids say -- touring around, making records, all the attendant hassles.  Keeping with that old wife/mistress metaphor (used by Garcia himself, somewhere), I wonder if the Legion of Mary wasn't the mistress that started making more serious moves into the master bedroom after the wife left town for a bit.

Obviously Saunders and Fierro wouldn't have seen it that way, and to be honest, one thing I enjoy about all their music from 1974-75 is that Garcia isn't always the most comfortable sounding guy onstage, and that there are times when Fierro and Saunders just smoke him.  But no mystery why Garcia would at some point want to put that down, particularly when it became the Main Event.

But I do have to snicker at the idea that the JGB ca 1976 didn't indulge in a little bit of "severely testing the endurance of the audience" of its own (exhibit A).

Rockwell, John.  "The Pop Life."  The New York Times, April 4, 1975.  Online. 

Weitzman, Steve.  (unknown title).  The Music Gig, Aug 1976.
(clipping saved in Dick Latvala's scrapbook, Book 1, p. 31.  A later revision of this piece -- without this quote -- is at Dead Sources)

1/30/91: rashers and sausages

 

courtesy Jerrybase.  Any bets where Jerry was on his night off?

1/30/91 at the Warfield has a really good Don't Let Go.  Not one for the all-timer list, but it's longer than usual (just under 21 minutes) and Garcia sounds like he's inspired and flying high: he soars over the usual main jam, then leans into the spacey second jam that lasts around 3 1/2 minutes.  But then, rather than bring it back to the Don't Let Go rhythm and final verse, he does something that as far as I know is unique to this lone version: at approx 17:15, Garcia starts firing off this brisk melodic theme that reminds me of an Irish jig (actually, as I learned, it's a double jig; see below).  Quickly, David Kemper picks up on what's happening and Melvin Seals lays down some rich chords below him, and they blast off on this unexpected digression for about a minute and a half.  Garcia takes a neat left turn out of this and gets them back into Don't Let Go without batting an eye.  Any Irish music fans care to weigh in on this one?

Thanks to this helpful primer, I now know that

To tell whether a tune you're listening to is a jig or a reel, let your foot tap along with the music at a natural pace, then see how many fast notes you count between each tap. If you can count to 3, it's a jig. If you can count to 4, it's a reel. [...] There are actually several different Irish rhythms which have the term "jig" in their name...when people say "jig," they generally mean a double jig. Double jigs have three notes per beat, and every other beat is a downbeat. Try saying "rashers and sausages" three times fast. That's a double jig rhythm.

(and after Don't Let Go ends, someone next to the taper says, "sounds like he was going into the Other One," which makes sense: the Other One's rhythm is also a 3-against-2 polyrhythm.  For a good time, try saying "rashers and sausages" along with the Other One beat and see what happens.)

So what the heck just happened?  I don't think Garcia is "teasing" any particular tune.  My hunch is that he's just playing in a style that came to mind, and Kemper and Seals were quick enough to hop on and let Garcia ride with it for a minute.  My first thought was that this might have been something he had been playing with David Grisman, but it doesn't match any specific tune that I know of.  They do something kind of similar on the bridge of Grateful Dawg, and Handsome Cabin Boy would have this same rhythmic feel if it was played twice as fast.  But my guess is they were just doodling around with some old Irish tunes during one of their sessions -- or, more likely, a rehearsal for their debut public performance, which would happen 72 hours later on the same stage.

Any ideas, folks?

5/8/82: four ways of looking at a Keystone show

the Keystone faithful, 8/20/81 by Bob Minkin

 

I have riffed on sound quality and terroir and all that before, but man, what a difference a good aud tape make.  It can make enough of a difference that sometimes listening to multiple recordings of the same performance will give it a Rashomon-like quality.  Case in point: 5/8/82 is a show that is right in the armpit of a JGB era that I can usually take or leave.  This particular lineup was well settled in its drug-fuzzed routine, reliable and occasionally scorching hot but not often all that inspired.  This show is on the short side.  It has a Don't Let Go, so I am sure that I'd given it a listen at some point and was evidently left unmoved, since I couldn't remember anything about it.  But I was tempted to listen to this newly circulating recording (note: I wrote this last May and forgot to post it) made by John Anzaldo with a Walkman "three feet from the stage in the center," and I am glad that I did.

#1: the board tape 
To paraphrase JGMF, there are some serious damp, cheap motel towel vibes happening here.  To my ears, most post-Bettyboard 1980's JGB sbd tapes are disappointing listening experiences; this tape is essentially the X-Ray version of the Anzaldo aud that I really came here to talk about.  I think Harry Popick was running sound for the JGB at this time (his gig with the Dead was mixing their onstage monitors, not the front-of-house sound).  Judging from the auds, Popick's house sound was great, whereas the board tape is a straight PA feed (i.e. what wasn't loud enough in the onstage amps and would need to be reinforced in the PA): that means not much guitar, plenty of vocals, plenty of keyboard, plenty of kickdrum, zero room ambience.  So go figure, listening to this tape didn't make much of an impression on me.  No thanks.  Maybe not bad raw material for a new matrix source, though.

#2: Jeff Knudsen's tape
Jeff Knudsen taped a grip of Keystone shows around this time, and I don't think it's unfair to say he was a more casual taper than some of the other regulars.  Most of his recordings circulate with a personal reminiscence of the show, which give a lot of fun color and context to his recordings.  Some of them are surprisingly good, given the circumstances: he found a spot, surreptitiously set up his mics (stuffed in a sock and held in his armpit), and proceeded to have a good time.  This one is decent but sounds a little muffled.  But everyone clearly was having a pretty good time.  Disclaimer: we owe Jeff Knudsen -- and anyone who made the effort and spent the money to run tape at all these taper-unfriendly JGB shows -- a huge debt of gratitude. Thank you, Jeff Knudsen!

#3: Ohr Weinberg's tape 
This one sounds pretty good.  But it's only the second set, because, as Weinberg relates, "we were at a Robert Hunter show in SF and Hunter made a crack about why we weren't at the Jerry show in Berkeley... so we drove down to Berkeley just in time for the second JGB set."  Fortunately the complete source (below) sounds even better.  And, fwiw, the Hunter show does circulate: presumably this is also Weinberg's tape, from Jeff Knudsen's collection.  Double duty!  Thank you, Ohr Weinberg!

#4: John Anzaldo's tape
Back to our man on the front lines, who I imagine was standing right in front of Jerry like one of those dudes in the picture up top, trusty Sony Walkman at the ready (don't be skeptical; there are some Walkman aud tapes from the fall 82 tour that are surprisingly good).  The vocals are low, as is usually the case with tapes recorded this close to the stage.  But that Tiger sounds as rich as can be, and everything else is a little more gentle in the mix, but still well-balanced: drums, bass, Hammond organ, and small but unobtrusive touches of electric piano.  You are right there, shoulder to shoulder with the few, the proud, the yahoos who've been partying since they got on line at 4:00 that afternoon.  I confess that perhaps the recording quality is swaying my opinion, but this show has now come to life for me.  Don't Let Go, unsurprisingly, is one highlight, powered along by Kreutzmann finding new angles throughout the jam while never leaving the waist-deep groove.  I also submit the first chorus of his penultimate solo in Tangled Up in Blue (@5:15, after the "I lived with them on Montague St" verse) as a small shining jewel of Pure Jerry Perfection -- it's not a speaker-shredder like 2/4/81, but more like the epitome of butterflies being let out of a basket.  I am also really feeling his hard dig into Tore Up Over You, although, this being 1982, he loses the thread for his final solo after too much wait-time for the keyboardists to do something interesting (spoiler: nope).  Elsewhere, he's hot to trot and jumps from song to song with very little lag time, including an unusual hustle from Simple Twist into The Harder They Come into Midnight Moonlight to end the night.  Not quite one for the books, but one more Saturday night where everything (mostly) clicks into place.  I would never have known it, though, were it not for this fine aud tape.  Thank you John Anzaldo!

Lonesome & a Long Way From Home, 1978

3/17/78, by James Anderson

 

My last post had the preamble about this song, which I won't repeat.  I will, however, reiterate that these jams are like nothing the JGB played before or after and, in most cases, are comparable to the Dead at their wildest in 1977-79.  More folks need to hear these.

 

2/15/78 Keystone, Berkeley, CA (date uncertain per text file)

There is one decent aud recording of this remarkable jam: at 29:15, it's the longest of all the known versions and also the longest single non-Dead Garcia improvisation, besides a very small handful of Garcia/Saunders jams in 1971-72.  Even though some of the jams in the Dead's Jan 78 tour were unusually long for the time, I think this also outpaces anything else he played that year.

Like in the Dec 77 performances, Kahn is the first to pull away from the I-VII vamp that begins the jam and push more aggressively towards an atonal/arythmic space.  Buchanan follows Kahn's lead, while Godchaux either holds tight to the vamp or sticks close to Garcia.  Other listeners might not hear it this way, but I think these two complementary but still somewhat oppositional approaches make for an unusual tension, often very effective and engaging, and never less than interesting.  I won't map out the landscape of this long jam step by step, but there are many twists and turns.  After 3ish minutes of grooving around the vamp, they drop off into a pretty, more minor-keyed space. A couple moments stand out here: starting around 12 min, Garcia and Kahn play a 5-note theme that's repeated and varied for a while; Godchaux takes a brief trip to the foreground at 15:30, playing an almost classical-sounding thing over the slow, churning groove; things follow their own twisty path until, at about 20 minutes, Buchanan leans in with a more assertive groove. Everyone else stays committed to weirdness, but Buchanan's push gets them them all moving in mostly the same direction and the intensity starts ramping up. This final stretch is tremendous! Garcia starts wrapping up around 25:15 with some cool variations on the "I have never been so lonesome" melody, while Godchaux appears to be the one who really corals everyone back into the song itself.  An amazing ride.


2/17/78 - Keystone, Palo Alto, CA - as per Jerrybase, but no tape in circulation


2/18/78 Marin Veterans Auditorium, San Rafael, CA
Official release on Pure Jerry: Bay Area '78; the circulating tape has a splice in it.

This jam has a more discernible structure to it (spontaneously conceived, I assume), moving back and forth between an established groove and freer playing.  As the jam begins, it feels like they're anticipating something rather than just easing in. Garcia & Godchaux play some lovely stuff right off the bat, and Buchanan plays it loose while Kahn is punchy but a little less forward than prior versions. The bottom falls out for a minute before they find some forward momentum and take off, with Garcia staying closer to the normal tonality of the song. This feels pretty good! Just before 11 minutes, the bottom falls out again. Another groove is established, more minor-keyed and less intense; then again things veer back into free territory again, splashing around like the comedown after a big Dead space jam. At 17 minutes they find another groove, this time vaguely funky but sparse.  This one isn't as compelling to my ears, but it's interesting to hear, since since the JGB never did this kind off thing.  It winds down into near silence, then Garcia strums them back into the song.  Structurally, this was quite different from 2/15 and has the most "quiet" spacey playing of any version yet.  23:30 total.


3/9/78 Cleveland Music Hall, Cleveland, OH
The one sbd source runs a little fast, though not too bad. Currently there are no auds, but I would love to hear one. Like a few other sbds from this March tour, Kahn is pretty hot in the mix.

The band returned for their second east coast tour in less than 6 months, playing with a noticeably higher level of energy and more aggressive attack than the fall 77 shows. The jam here starts as usual with everyone slowly pulling away from the vamp.  After a minute and a half, Buchanan drops the bottom out, then snaps back into a steady beat after half a minute, but it's too late: Garcia's going for it.  The jam follows a freer logic, eventually slowing down into a prettier space.  Around 8:45, Buchanan kicks into a brisk groove, pulling everyone else into orbit.  Everything stays pretty loose but with forward momentum, until Garcia whips up a big (and long!) fanning climax at 13:35.  Wow!  This jam is plenty spacey, but with more of a souped-up feel and a linear path than the prior walks in the woods.  True to form, Garcia even goofs once they're back in the song itself and repeats the whole final verse as Buchanan is cueing them up to end it.  Whoops!  Nice little scorcher here, though.  17:41 total on this tape, but longer with speed correction.


3/11/78 Leroy Concert Theatre, Pawtucket, RI
This show has a few recordings: another bass-heavy sbd, two solid aud tapes (I prefer 14931 taped by Tom Dalti), and a fine matrix that will probably be the winner for most people.

The band sure sounds enthusiastic tonight!  Again, they jump ship from the vamp to a quieter groove very quickly, but this time they wait a few minutes to get fully into free space.  At 5:30, Kahn starts playing a clear bassline, something he hasn't done in any of these jams, and everyone else locks in.  This lasts for a minute until Garcia throws out a big trill and everyone immediately follows his lead and starts building the spacey intensity.  Garcia starts to fan up a big one, then backs off, and they splash around. Buchanan lays down a beat again at 10:20, but Garcia and Kahn seem too far gone. Things start coalescing, but the energy remains pretty hairy. Wild! Garcia tries getting them all back to homebase around 11:50, but it takes a little while to circle the wagons and they finally get there at 12:30.  This one was a comparative shorty at under 15 minutes, but they're not skimping on the energy here!  A very satisfying blast of weirdness.

Both 3/9 and 3/11 are pretty amped up versions -- less patient or "exploratory" and more fiery, although still very spacey (maybe not surprising, given the apparent recreational stimulant of choice for this tour). It seems like Jerry is the one driving the ship here, with Kahn sounding totally zonked (um, in a good way) and Buchanan holding for for dear life. In both jams, Buchanan reestablishes a beat after the spacey midsection, although this doesn't really guide anyone back to the song itself.  Godchaux is present in both, but harder to hear because of the bass-heavy sbd mix.


3/18/78 Warner Theatre, Washington, DC 

Given the wide circulation of the original tape (an FM broadcast) over the years and it's official release in the Pure Jerry series, this may be the most well-known of these jams. Inevitable contrarian that I am, it's also my least favorite.

Again, they drop into space pretty abruptly after starting the vamp, more immediately than in any earlier version.  But the general feeling is more hesitant, as if everyone is waiting to see who will get crazy first. It seems like they're having a harder time settling on what to do with this; Kahn suggests a couple ideas, and Garcia plays that impatient "chording" figure a couple of times (around 7:15 and 7:30) that usually indicates that he's ready to move onto something new. But nothing seems to stick, and no one seems willing to just push the boat out of the harbor. Kahn in particular seems less emboldened than he was in earlier versions, while Garcia doesn't seem particularly interested (or able) to find a direction for this to go in. Finally Buchanan throws down a groove at 12:15, and things fall in line for a couple of minutes. But even as Garcia is clearly heading back to the song, they left-turn into some more free interplay before Garcia finally gets them back to the song for real.  At over 19 minutes, this is much longer than the prior two versions, but I preferred both of those shorter jams.  Still, this is all nearly unprecedented stuff for a JGB jam, and still more exploratory and experimental than most Dead jams from 77-78, so it is well worth hearing.

6/10/78 - Keystone, Berkeley, CA - per Jerrybase, but no tape in circulation


10/26/78 - Paramount Theatre, Portland, OR

A well-mixed sbd (Bettyboard?) fragment exists of the end of the show, which thankfully includes this entire jam.  This is a pleasure to listen to.  A few auds also circulate.

Unlike earlier versions, everyone stays grooving on the vamp for a while.  There's no funny business from Kahn and, unusually, Buchanan is the one who seems to first pull away from the groove. Still, there's no abrupt shifting gears at all, just a very gradual move into more open playing. Before 6 minutes, Garcia finds a vein of weirdness that he works, and everyone else reorients to wherever he's going. A minute later, Garcia has found a little rhythmic groove, Kahn begins a walking bassline, and things start to achieve lift off. Godchaux doesn't want to let go of the 2-chord vamp, but everyone else is in fairly jazzy territory, rhythmically speaking. Garcia is eventually pulled back into Godchaux's tight orbit, but Kahn and Buchanan are throwing down, shifting back and forth between jazz and a more driving rock beat. This is really sweet. They jam this for a while until it falls into freer space around 12 1/2 minutes. No tempo here, and it feels like Garcia is slowly turning up the heat, a la older GD space jams. After 3 minutes of this, they start peaking with Garcia trilling away and everyone else crashing around. At 16 1/2 min, they ease off the intensity and downshift into a quieter, pretty, almost melodic space.  Garcia slickly threads in the "lonesome and a long way from home" melody line and brings them right back into the song itself. Great transition! He slips up and repeats the final verse a second time like 3/9/78, and they wrap up at a hair over 22 minutes.  Holy smokies, that was excellent.



10/28/78 - Paramount Northwest Theatre, Seattle, WA

A well-renowned show (this is the best aud recording) and often praised as one of Keith Godchaux's best 11th hour performances. I think the early show deserves all the praise it's been given. The late show is bit more of a mixed bag, and this final performance of Lonesome by this band doesn't reach the same heights as 10/26. But it ain't bad!

Garcia starts doing his late-78/79 superfast 16th note runs right at the start of the jam, and Kahn starts getting pushy after not too long.  This one jumps around much more at first: there's an abrupt drop in intensity at 4:30, and Garcia seems to stick more to the background as Kahn and Godchaux move more to the fore.  Things veer into space at about 6 minutes, things amp up, things ease back, Garcia seems mainly to zip around without finding much of a direction.  They reach a fanning climax around 10:20, but the overall vibe of this has felt pretty tweaky and bug-eyed to me.  The wave crests, they splash around for a minute, and Garcia strums them back into the song.  This one felt solid enough, but it flew by without getting much traction; the feel is similar to 3/18's jam, but more compact at 13:30 total.

 

And that, unfortunately, was that.  A week later this lineup played its final shows, and no other iteration of the JGB ever delved this deep again.  When Don't Let Go returned to the repertoire in 1988, that band delivered a few versions that broke the mold of its general structure and wandered into spacier areas.  But they never sustained this kind of creative group improvisation at such length, making these few version of Lonesome and a Long Way From Home nearly unique in Garcia's side career.

In the summer of 1981, Garcia brought Lonesome back -- only twice.  On 7/26/81 the jam stays in the vamp: not the C-B (I-VII) vamp of the 70's versions, but the same C-F (I-V) vamp that begins the song, and then eventually shifts into basically just jamming on a C chord.  Garcia solos while everyone else bubbles away beneath him.  On 7/26/81, the more exciting of the two, Garcia never returns to the song itself and transitions out of the jam right into Dear Prudence.  On 8/20/81 the energy feels a bit more sluggish, but he does return to song to reprise the verse, then segues into Dear Prudence on the final note.  Both of these are about 10 minutes long.  Eight years later, on the JGB's Sept 1989 tour, Lonesome reappeared as an even briefer show-closer: a nice (if short-lived) alternative to Midnight Moonlight, but nothing that was sustained for more than a few minutes.

 

Dec 1977: a long way from home

12/11/77?  credit unknown

 

The 1976-78 JGB had two "jamming" tunes, Don't Let Go and Lonesome and a Long Way From Home, that were both introduced on the road in March 1976.  Despite periods of hibernation, Don't Let Go remains the standard JGB "jam tune" for most folks.  Of course I love the song and have plenty to say about it, but I can't pretend that the jams in many Don't Let Go's don't follow a really simple formula: everyone lays down a steady one-chord groove while Garcia solos for a very long time.  Lonesome had a much more limited shelf-life: the first half of 1976, periodically throughout Buchanan's tenure in fall 1977 and 1978 (notably, they stopped playing Don't Let Go midway through this lineup's lifespan), then two out-of-the-blue performances in 1981 and a handful of shorter set-closers in 1989.  But a few versions of Lonesome featured improvisations that took far more chances and went to a greater variety of places than the usual Don't Let Go.  Beginning with the last three shows of the Nov-Dec 1977 east coast tour, Lonesome became a launchpad for some very interesting and very extended improvisations that dwarf nearly every other extended jam Garcia played in 1977-78, yet seem to remain relatively unheralded.

One earlier extended version of Lonesome, and likely the most well-known of all of them, is the 22 minute performance from 4/3/76 (you know, the one that ends in a magical burst of energy and furious fanning like a hundred birds bursting into the air all at once).  As great as that one is (and trust me, it's great), it still follows the same form as many of the shorter ones: the song ends, the band eases into a I-VII vamp (think Fire On the Mountain), and Garcia slowly cooks it up over a tasty but still fairly repetitive groove held down by Keith Godchaux, John Kahn, and Ron Tutt.  The approach didn't change when Buzz Buchanan took over for Tutt in Nov 1977.  They played it throughout the first week of that tour, then set it aside for a few shows.  Who knows what the catalyst was, but something serious happened when they decided to bring it back.


12/9/77  SUNY Stony Brook
(there are a few aud masters; imho Kathy Sublette's is the best)

Less than a minute into the jam, Kahn seems like he's trying to stir things up, throwing around some big notes that cut against the groove.  Garcia & Godchaux both keep on grooving as usual, and Buzz Buchanan seems to be audibly deciding whether to stick with Garcia & Godchaux or to follow Kahn's lead.  Kahn wins out, the groove begins to fall apar,t and no one seems real invested in keeping it together.  by 6:40ish they've all surrendered to whatever is going to happen.  At 7:07 Kahn and Godchaux play a little bit in the "Spanish" tonality that JGMF detects, another signpost towards someplace new.  Garcia still occasionally circles back to playing figures from his usual Lonesome vamp; but by 8 minutes in, freedom has won out.  Everyone is listening and responding to each other, but this is following a logic that is changing moment by moment with no predetermined direction or groove.  I hear Buchanan trying to reestablish a groove around 10:45, but the winds keep blowing this way and that.  By 16 minutes, things appear to have coalesced into a single train of thought and Garcia soon reasserts a clear tonality and is heading back in the direction of the song.  The second half of this jam is basically a long swim back to the song: they sure do take their time and build up a good head of steam on the way.  Around 22 minutes, Garcia starts playing the "and a long way from home" melody, tying everything together.  The final few minutes take it down low and quiet, and they groove in this zone for a while; at 23:40 Garcia brings it back into the song itself, but enters a couple beats too early.  Everyone covers for the fumble and no harm done.  Folks, that was just a hair under 27 minutes: by far the longest extended improv/jam on a single tune that Garcia played all year, either with the JGB or that other band.  You'd think just for that reason alone, this would be more widely heralded as a big one, but so it goes in the hinterlands of the JGB.  Tell your friends!  The aud tapes reveal that some of the Long Islanders in attendance tonight were audibly unimpressed with the band's laid back approach to time, and there are a few shouts during this jam for them to get it together and get on with things, but thankfully no one onstage was fazed.  I find more and more to appreciate about this jam with every new listen.

12/10/77  Warner Theater, Washington, DC
(imho Gerry Moskal's aud tape is the best - no etree entry??)

A telling moment in this pleasant but imho not very interesting show is Kahn's solo feature in Russian Lullaby.  Say what you will about those bass solos, but the crowds usually cheered and hollered encouragement whenever Kahn went for it.  This particular solo, however, is five and a half minutes long, and Kahn bails on the chord changes after a couple go-rounds and wanders into the woods, with Buchanan right behind him.  It gets pretty spacey for Russian Lullaby!  Garcia's not interested and gets things back on track upon his return, although Kahn gets points for trying to nudge the boss off course a couple of times.  So it's not surprising that whatever mojo blessed last night's Lonesome jam is still plentiful tonight.  This one is a shorter trip at 19 minutes, but is a completely different excursion.  Godchaux was hanging with them every step of the way in last night's jam, exhibiting a side of his playing that rarely came out in his final years.  Tonight, though, he is nowhere to be found.  The jam begins with Garcia gently cruising through the usual 2-chord vamp, but when Kahn gets more assertive and suggests another course, Godchaux disappears and stays silent for almost the entire jam.  And to be honest, it doesn't sound like Kahn, Buchanan, or Garcia are missing him at all: the three of them are as locked in as they were the night before, but now with more space to try something that (onstage at least) they had never done before.  Donna Godchaux adds some wordless vocalization in a few spots.  In general, Kahn seems like the real driving force here; he really cranks it up and lets loose a couple volleys of buzzing, distorted notes, and more often than not it sounds to me like Garcia is following Kahn's lead, rather than vice versa.  The communication here is more like a jazz trio, inventive and intimate.  Like the night before, the latter portion of the jam is an extended swim back to the song itself, but is still just as compelling as the looser stuff that precedes it.  Around 13:50, Garcia starts playing arpeggios (much like in older Playin' or Dark Star jams when he was signaling a change in direction), then just after 15 minutes he starts playing a melodic figure that Kahn picks up and joins.  Around 16 minutes the pair lock into a descending scale that lands them precisely in the outro of the song.  Godchaux reappears immediately as they land back on solid ground.  Unlike last night's crowd, the audience tonight appears to be with them every step of the way; there's a nice touch at 9:12 when someone yells "beautiful!"


12/11/77 Penn State University
(a hissy sbd has been in circulation for a while; I listened to SirMICK's remaster)

This final show of the tour sounds, to my ears, a little punchier and a bit more inspired than the average.  Remarkably, for this third Lonesome jam in a row, they find yet another approach.  Godchaux sticks around for a little bit longer, but again vanishes as things get unusual.  Kahn isn't as assertive tonight, and Garcia seems to be the one who is taking the boat where he wants it to go.  They abandon the vamp for murkier waters, but this time the majority of the jam feels more like a Grateful Dead 'Space' ca. 1977-78 to me (particularly the May 77 varieties), with Garcia leading the charge and everyone following closely in his wake.  Around 10 minutes, Kahn and Buchanan kick into gear and start getting a bit pushier; Garcia returns the Lonesome vamp (prompting a brief cameo from Godchaux) but then playfully veers off again, as they pull in and out the groove.  They find their way back again, and Garcia drops a perfectly timed theme from Close Encounters into the ending as a little bow to tie everything up, then sails them back into the song.  Oh yes.  This is the shortest of the three at around 18:20.


I'd like to do a deep dive into the rest of the 1978 versions as well, but figured I would get the ball rolling with these three back-to-back jams that started it off.  Most of the Lonesome jams in 1978 keep this same freer, more conversational approach.  Stay tuned for more, hopefully.  But for now I encourage everyone to listen to these three in succession and marvel at what got into them at the end of (imho) a solid but not very adventurous tour -- and maybe give a little extra thanks to John Kahn for stepping out of bounds a bit and throwing a few elbows around.

8/22/81 JGB and Phil

First, rest in peace to Jim Vita, taper of many fine GD and JGB shows in the early/mid 80's, including this one.  We all owe him and all tapers a great deal.

So what's the deal with this show?  It sticks out because Phil Lesh is playing bass with the JGB (and a Fender Jazz Bass, at that), which had also happened that June for a small run of shows that John Kahn missed in order to travel Europe with his mother.  JGMF has posts on 6/24/81 and 6/25/81, and Lostlivedead has an eyewitness account of 6/26/81 (also officially released in part).  But Lesh popped up again at this show two months later, in a place Garcia had never played before or again, in the middle of a normal weekend run of Keystone shows where Kahn was otherwise present.  

Why would Kahn play Friday, Saturday, and Monday, but miss the Sunday gig?  My uninformed guess is that it had something to do with the show itself, a benefit for "Fairfax schools" (and a pricey one at that: $15 as compared to $7-10 for the average JGB or Dead show that month).  The venue was the Fairfax Pavilion, a community rec center in the heart of tiny downtown Fairfax, right next to the little league field.  Phil Lesh happened to be a Fairfax resident since 1968 and, at this stage in his life, a regular patron of Fairfax's drinking establishments (although he moved to San Rafael around this time, according to his book, so I don't know if he was still getting mail there or what).  It seems like a strange coincidence that he just happened to play a one-time gig with Garcia at his local community center that was a benefit for a local community interest.  Dave from Grateful Seconds saw this show and remembers knowing in advance that Lesh would be playing, so the "subbing for Kahn" idea seems even less likely.  Does anyone know more about that one?

There are a number of well-circulated Bob Minkin photos from this night (some here) of Garcia beaming at Lesh and both of them looking pretty happy (compared with Minkin's pics of two nights earlier at the Keystone, where Garcia and Kahn both look like overcooked seafood).  Unfortunately, though, according to some attendees, it was a weird night with heavy police presence and a phoned-in death threat (see Jerrybase comments).  And I am sorry to say that musically it isn't great, either.  The brief 38 minute first set is the worse of the two.  Garcia totally loses the changes during his first solo in How Sweet It Is and blows the "open my eyes at night" verse after his second one, neither of which seems like a good sign at all.  Mission in the Rain has some tempo issues at first, but is otherwise decent.  Keyboardist Jimmy Warren is not having a particularly good night either, and fizzles through most of his solos.  Sugaree lifts off a bit during Garcia's second solo.  Tangled Up in Blue has more tempo issues, wobbling from 125 to 135bpm from the beginning to the first solo, more lyric flubs, then Garcia sparks a quick two minute jam before punching out quickly.  The second set (about 45 min) is a bit more together.  I'll Take a Melody isn't bad (I hear some scatting from one of the singers in the jam), but the highlight is The Harder They Come, a tune I usually feel more ambivalent about than not.  As was usual for this lineup, Warren and Melvin Seals lay down a bubbling, interlocking two-keyboard groove for the jam, which Lesh complements with a minimal bass accompaniment (compared with Kahn's typically more bustly part), and Garcia rolls out the carpet over it.  Not bad!  Knockin' sounds fine to me, if a little stiff at first, and Midnight Moonlight finds a solid, steady tempo for itself.

Like the June shows, it's hard to say anything specific about Lesh's bass playing.  You would think he would stick out for his trademark unusual style, but he mostly plays it pretty safe here and (probably wisely) sticks to the parameters of the songs.  Occasionally something pops out as an only Phil would play that moment, but those are few and far between.

Also of note, this weekend were the last shows drummer Daoud Shaw played with the band.  Kreutzmann seems to have filled in for the September gigs (there's a picture of him at the next JGB show on 9/7/81), and then Ron Tutt returned for the November '81 east coast tour (and presumably two Keystone warm-up gigs immediately beforehand, which do not yet circulate on tape).  And Phil Lesh never played with the JGB again after this one strange night in downtown Fairfax.

photo by Bob Minkin

Le Front Street Sheiks -> Reconstruction

"whaddya think, John, is that a flatted 5th or a raised 4th?"

 

Some inchoate notes on Jerry and jazz circa mid 1978:

Thanks to JGMF, we now have some public documentation of a very brief but very interesting moment in the JGB story, a brief side trip into a parallel universe where Garcia, Kahn, and Godchaux were a jazz piano combo.

JGMF once quoted (edit: here) an interview with John Kahn from 1987 where he casually mentioned the eyebrow-raising fact that, since 4/5 of the JGB lived near each other, they would regularly get together at the Godchauxs' house (mostly without Ron Tutt) and just play:

"We'd go through everything. We had Dylan songbooks and we'd do stuff like play everything from Blonde on Blonde. Then we'd do all sorts of Beatles songs. It was great. Most of it never even got past that room.
"We were real close for a while. We had this trip where we'd call ourselves the Front Street Sheiks and we'd play dumb piano jazz and stuff like that. We did some recording down at the rehearsal place [Front Street in San Rafael] right after they got their 24-track, just to see if the machine worked. We'd be down there every night of the week playing these old songs like "All the Things You Are," "Night in Tunisia," things like that." (Golden Road, Winter 1987, 29-30)

Tantalizing!  Both Kahn and Godchaux had jazz backgrounds, and Garcia of course had dabbled in jazz a bit under the guidance of Merl Saunders.  But now thanks to information that has been shared at the wonderful new Jerrybase site (seriously: it is wonderful), the picture comes slightly more into focus with four documented sessions at Club Front in June 1978 as either "Le Trio Clube" or the "Front Street Sheiks."

 

Repertoire

6/13/78: My Funny Valentine, Satin Doll, Georgia On My Mind

6/14/78: Satin Doll, Georgia On My Mind

6/26/78: Instrumental, Satin Doll

6/27/78: Don't Blame Me

The "repertoire" is made up of some pretty old and conservative standards; Kahn mentioned using songbooks and it's possible that one of them owned a copy of The Real Book (a popular grey market 'fakebook' of common practice jazz tunes). Garcia was already comfortable with "My Funny Valentine" and "Georgia On My Mind" from the Garcia/Saunders days.  "Satin Doll" (Ellington) and "Don't Blame Me" (a 1930's showtune recorded by dozens of singers and instrumentalists) are things that Godchaux would have likely played many times in his pre-Dead life as a cocktail bar pianist. Although Donna Godchaux is not mentioned in the Jerrybase info, Kahn did mention "Keith and Donna were always together, so Donna sang with us, too" and all of these songs were standards for vocalists as well as jazz instrumentalists.  Kahn also mentioned "A Night in Tunisia" and "All the Things You Are," both bebop-era warhorses. That instrumental could be anything. A few months later the JGB played Miles Davis' "So What" live, seemingly out of the blue, but perhaps that was in the mix here as well.

Timeline

Corry and Joe have done the heavy lifting with the late 1978 timeline as it relates to Reconstruction, when a lot was happening on both the GD and JGB fronts. It is worth familiarizing yourself with:
http://lostlivedead.blogspot.com/2012/11/reconstructing-reconstruction-january.html
http://jgmf.blogspot.com/2014/11/risky-reconstruction.html

But for my own purposes, I will reiterate a bit from their posts:

• Garcia, Kahn, and Godchaux are messing around with jazz standards sometime in June 78 (and possibly earlier?).
• The gear at Front Street is upgraded from a 16-track to a 24-track machine in June 78 (presumably for the Dead to record Shakedown Street there) and GKG take advantage of this to hang out and lay down some of these jazz tunes.
• The Dead then get busy for most of August (recording Shakedown Street, with Kahn pitching in on overdubs and mixing duties) and September (going to Egypt, then canceling shows in London to return home and finish the album).
• Garcia sits in with Merl Saunders' band for a one-off benefit gig at a Haight/Ashbury club on 10/3/78.  afaik, this is mostly still a mystery.  The band's style is fairly similar to Reconstruction (no horns, though), but the setlist includes a somewhat stylistic outlier: "So What."
• The Keith & Donna JGB play their last known gig on 11/3/78 and, for the first known time, play "So What."
• The Dead are on tour in November, Garcia is hospitalized with bronchitis, shows are postponed, and the Dead are back on the road intermittently from mid-December through January.
• Reconstruction debuts with Garcia on 1/30/79, after a week of rehearsal during a break in the Dead's touring schedule.
  

 

So what?

Kahn described Reconstruction as a project he put together in Dec 1978 to play more jazz and to be able to gig when Garcia was on the road with the Dead, but also to potentially include Garcia when he wasn't: "I wasn't really planning on Jerry being in the band originally, and then when he was in the band it sort of changed everything from what the plan was" (Jackson, Garcia, 306).  It must have been an appealing fit for Garcia, who for the first time in eight years had no side-band of his own: the timing was good, the environment was appealing (a no-commitment, no-hassle gig), and the both concept and the material were fresh and challenging.  As the narrative has it, Garcia rose to the occasion for nine months in a final flash of inspired glory, but GD politics pulled him away, and Reconstruction's breakup symbolically marks an end to Garcia really pushing himself musically and settling into a more complacent rut for most of the next decade (see also: heroin; Garcia had moved in Rock Scully in this same period).

Is that narrative this changed by the fact that Garcia was actually "playing jazz" of his own accord six months before Reconstruction began?  It might be, it might not.  Given that Kahn seemed to suggest a lot of Garcia's material (starting with Compliments in 1974), it would make sense that he nudged Garcia this time as well.  Maybe it was just for laughs -- or maybe the idea of a JGB that incorporated jazz tunes (as Garcia/Saunders and Legion of Mary had done) was a viable option in their minds in mid-1978?

Also: I feel like "Russian Lullaby" is always left out of these discussions of Garcia engaging with jazz, but it's a jazz tune by pretty much any metric, and he played it regularly before, during, and after this period.

Also: This "Front Street Shieks" era of jazz is very different from the stripe of jazz that Reconstruction played -- I have more to say at some point re: Reconstruction as a jazz band -- which was different, for that matter, from "So What," and from the slightly earlier 20's-era swing Garcia played in the Great American Music/String Band in 1974 (see here).   And heck, also from some of the other jazz tunes played by the Legion of Mary.  That's a wider range of jazz music than I had expected and may warrant a separate post.

Also: One thing that did also come to mind was a story that drummer David Kemper told about working with Bob Dylan.  Dylan would assemble his band to rehearse for a tour and they would spend days playing in a certain style and carefully learning material that Dylan didn't seem to intend for performance.  Garcia and Kahn playing old jazz chestnuts doesn't seem to quite fit that model, but I don't know.

Or, of course, it's possible that all this timing is a coincidence and that we shouldn't make too much of these few "jazz sessions" in the bigger scheme of things.  But, for now, please to add refutations, corrections, additions, speculations, etc.

3/30/76: the first Don't Let Go meets Sugar Magnolia

4/1/76 by Jim Anderson

3/30/76 at the Calderone Concert Hall in Hempstead, NY is a show that probably doesn't get much airtime in our age of digital abundance: the aud tape of the early show is rough quality and the late show is even worse.  It's a little surprising that there is only one recording of a NYC-area Garcia show out there, but it's what we've got for now.  If the reward for braving a poor 76 JGB aud tape is something you need to be convinced of, then I direct you to this Don't Let Go, currently the earliest known performance.  Warning up front: there's a big ol' cut of death that truncates this one mid-jam (judging from later versions from this tour, they still had a while to go).  Blarg.

So why bother?  Because this version is the only time I've heard Garcia do this unusual thing: the jam, like all of them, begins with him grinding around the A blues scale, but at around 7 minutes, he shifts gears into A mixolydian.  For you non-modal types, that's a different scale that he used more frequently in more 'major' sounding jams.  There is plenty of stuff online about the modes and approaches that Garcia tended to favor in his improvisations, and I am not the person to go into depth about it.  But what struck me -- and what may strike you, even if you don't play or usually think about this stuff -- is how Garcia's decision changes the color and direction of the jam, giving it a flavor that sounds a lot like Sugar Magnolia, of all things.  Keith Godchaux picks up on it and, though I wouldn't quite label it a "Sugar Magnolia jam," it does sound like they are both thinking along those same lines.

Later Don't Let Go's made that modal shift a standard thing: versions from the 80's-90's start in the blues scale (or pentatonic, I guess) and then usually shift gears into a "jazzier" jam with Garcia centering on a different mode (paging any more experienced musicians here).  But he never did it like he does here, as far as I know.  All other 1976-78 versions that I know of either stick to that blues feel straight through, or jump ship at some point for freer spacey playing.  Which makes this debut version unique in my book.

The rest of the show is cool, too, if you're inclined to listen through the aud tape realities.  After Midnight has a hot jam, Who Was John is a good time as always, and there is some beautiful Keith/Jerry counterpoint (a 76 hallmark) happening in Sitting in Limbo.  If you're eying the text file suspiciously, fear not: Knockin' is not really 24 minutes, just a glitched file with some cuts and repeated sections (although the climax is excellent).  Plus, this is probably the best they ever pulled off the Stones' Moonlight Mile, with Tutt and Kahn thundering away before a nice vocal climax.  All in all: worth it for all you 76 JGB lovers.  All 11 of you.

9/30/83: a long day, living in Reseda

courtesy jerrygarciasbrokendownpalaces

Friday 9/30/83 was the start of a long weekend in L.A. for Jerry and the band, sandwiched in between two great Dead tours, and just two months into David Kemper's tenure.  This is a relatively long show for the period with two sets at just under an hour each (a good length for a 2-set show, even out of town; early/late shows tended to be longer).  I'm not apologizing, but ya get what ya get with 1983 Jerry.  Vocals?  The man was living off Camels, coke, and heroin smoked off of aluminum foil.  Tempos?  Fast and sometimes shaky.  Guitar?  Louder than all hell and then some.  Deal with it: this is a hot show!  The one recording is a fine, funky quality aud tape with terroir to spare, and our mystery taper sounds like he was up front with Garcia's amp in his crosshairs.  If this era is your jam, then you have to be down with aud tapes like this: there's a recent batch of newly transferred JGB '83 sbds (not new sources, for the most part) that have reminded me that a funky ol' aud tape is usually preferable to a clean monitor-mix sbd, which have pretty erratic guitar mixes and generally highlight more flaws than strengths.  While I wouldn't necessarily call these aud tapes a guilty pleasure, they're the kind of thing I discreetly turn down when someone who's not a deliriously devoted deadhead enters the room (i.e. wife, kids, in-laws, most friends).

A second/first verse flipflop followed by some sparkling up-high soloing in How Sweet It Is lets you know what kind of night you're in for.  Garcia is crushing it in TLEO and goes through the roof with his second solo in Let it Rock.  Love in the Afternoon, a tune I don't love, is taken way too fast and they're working hard to keep it all together, so Garcia eases back with a nice Mississippi Moon and then, whoa, here comes Tangled Up In Blue.  His second solo is particularly tasty, but the end jam is everything catching on fire at once.  Kemper was still working out the whole "one foot on the brakes, one foot on the gas" thing, and succumbs to the temptation of kicking things into high gear a little too early (though he doesn't push as hard or insensitively as his predecessor Greg Errico could do).  It's exciting at first, but soon adds to a general level hubbub that, amazingly, they all manage to stay on top of.  A joyful noise to be sure, but man, I bet everyone's heads were ringing after that one.

Kemper, however, finds just the right groove for a very nice Mission in the Rain to start the second set.  A lovely (and brisk) Gomorrah is a nice call; Run for the Roses not so much; but Russian Lullaby is a beauty, particularly in Garcia's reentry after the bass solo when Kemper doubles up the time and Kahn shifts into a brisk walking bassline for a little while.  Nice touch, boys!  Dear Prudence's jam dials it way back, with Garcia playing more carefully and sensitively -- was he fading? was he just feeling like a little TLC was in order? -- and it feels a little out of place with the vibe of the rest of the show.  YMMV, obvs, but heads up for a badly timed tape cut, too.  It's nice, however, to hear Deal closing the show rather than the first set.  Like Tangled, they just go balls-out for broke here, but it's the end of a long, loud night and it's not quite as, um, smooth.  It's not the elegant arc of a well-crafted Deal jam, but no matter: I doubt that anyone left standing had much in the way of critical faculties left at that point, and probably neither will you if you've been blasting this through your headphones for the last two hours.  Which I recommend.

postscript: the JGB played here in 1982 (the debut of the Seals/Errico lineup), 1983, and 1984 (famed for its amazing Sugaree).  JGBP reports the colorful history of the place and its owners.  I will take the liberty, though, of quoting Corry Arnold's description of the club, which is just about perfect:

Reseda is near Northridge, Northwest of Los Angeles (off Hwy 101, between Van Nuys and Canoga Park, for those of you who know SoCal). It's probably a nice enough place, but it has a whiff of one of those faceless LA places without an identity--Tom Petty symbolically dismisses it in the lyrics to his 1989 hit "Free Fallin'": 

It's a long day, living in Reseda /
There's a freeway running through the yard 

The Country Club was a popular rock club in Reseda, which was open from about 1979 until the late 1990s (on Sherman Way near Reseda Boulevard). Lots of fine groups played there, but it was not a hip Hollywood club, since by LA standards Reseda was out in the 'burbs' (the empty club was actually used to film much of the 1997 movie Boogie Nights). Initially the 1000-capacity venue was conceived as a country showcase (hence the name) but it became better known for punk and new wave.

Or, in the words of the Karate Kid, I'm from Reseda, you're from the Hills, that's how we're different.  Something tells me that Garcia secretly kinda dug it, man.

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.