Grateful Dead

Well, that was really something!

I’ve yet to encounter anyone who attended the Memorial Day weekend Furthur Festival who didn’t have an absolute blast! And why not: the music was first-rate, the weather breathtakingly beautiful, the setting perfect, even the price was right—$125 for a very full al fresco weekend of camping and music; $75 for a single day of more than 12 hours of music spread across three stages, plus the dozens of crafts booths and other cool stuff, from the Terrapin Pavilion gallery (it’s walls covered in wonderful photos and other GD memorabilia) to the ol’ Kesey bus whence the festival’s name derives, sitting in all its psychedelic glory right in the thick of it all; Zane Kesey cheerfully presiding. Food offerings were bounteous, (mostly) healthy and easily accessible. Bathroom lines weren’t too horrific. Security was present inside but basically hands-off. The large bowl where the big acts played never got hideously congested (see GD at Calaveras, 1987, for contrast), and the sound was clear and loud, even towards the back. From what I could see the one day I was there—Saturday—everyone was pretty much giving everyone else the space they needed/wanted, and the areas around the smaller stages always provided plenty of room for everyone. I didn’t see one negative vibe the whole time I was there. Indeed, this was pretty much a smile-fest all the way around. It was one of those occasions we only rarely encountered back in the old Grateful Dead days where the crowd, the place and the bands all seemed to be in perfect alignment and it really felt like our world, and all that implies. It was truly one of the mellowest and most relaxed (in a good way) concert scenes I’ve ever been a part of.

(There were, however, scattered problems in the campgrounds and outside the immediate area, with numerous drug arrests and even some violent episodes evidently caused by knucklehead dealers and anarchists—why don’t they just go away? Hopefully, these episodes, sensationally reported in the local press, of course, will not prevent this overwhelmingly positive event from taking place next year.)

It was too big to cover it all, but here are some scattershot pictures from the weekend. I’m confident y’all will also give us some of your own impressions of the music and the scene, too!

This mirror-frog sat in a field near the main stage.
Photo: Regan McMahon

First of all, the setting: The Calaveras County Fairgrounds are a few miles outside of the old Gold Rush town of Angel’s Camp, in the rolling golden foothills of the Sierra (the snow-capped peaks of which were clearly visible most of the drive up from the Bay Area). The region was immortalized in an 1865 short story by Mark Twain called “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County,” and two years later that became the title of a popular collection of Twain short stories. With that sort of literary pedigree, is it any wonder that so many tourist spots in the area have frog names or imagery? Indeed, the whole Fairgrounds seems dedicated to the croaking amphibians—a sign at one of the entrances calls it “Frogtown USA,” and there are frog statues scattered around the site. Just two weeks before the Furthur Fest, the grounds hosted the annual County Fair and Jumping Frog Jubilee, the highlight of which is a jumping contest for the biggest, gnarliest frogs this side of the Pecos. The Furthur Festival’s addition to frogmania was a venue dubbed the Frogtown Fillmore, which was the center of some hot late night action on Friday and Saturday nights.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves a bit. Friday night, what was rather casually billed as a “soundcheck” for Furthur was actually a full-blown show by the band on the main stage, boasting an incredible set list, and the hot playing to match it. (I wasn’t there but bought CDs of it at the show on Saturday). Check it out:

Jam> The Eleven> Eyes of the World > Dark Star> Bird Song> Loose Lucy, Dear Mr. Fantasy, Scarlet Begonias> Fire on the Mountain, Let It Grow, Unbroken Chain, Standing on the Moon, Playing in the Band> Dark Star, Encore: Goin’ Down the Road Feeling Bad

Wow, impressive from beginning to end, and also completely unpredictable compared to Furthur’s other six sets (three each Saturday and Sunday) which were based around specific albums. The “Dark Star” and “Bird Song” were interplanetary, as you’d hope, and “Scarlet > Fire” a real barn-burner.

But wait, Friday night there was lots more late-night action at the aforementioned indoor Frogtown Fillmore, where in the wee hours, members of the weekend’s top bands got together in various configurations to rock the frickin’ house! First up was a lineup that hearkened back to most recent Phil & Friends band—Phil, Larry Campbell and Jackie Greene on guitars, but current Furthur-ites Joe Russo and Jeff Chimenti on drums and keys. They roared through “Viola Lee Blues” and “New Speedway Boogie” (which Jackie often plays with his own group), then Larry switched to fiddle and his angel-voiced wife Teresa Williams joined them for versions of “Peggy-O” and “Tennessee Jed.” Phil split and was replaced by Jackie on bass, the Campbells left, and Bob Weir came out for more “Viola Lee Blues,” followed by “Sugaree,” which also brought RatDog/Jemimah Puddleduck guitarist/singer Mark Karan to the stage for that one song. And last but not least, bassist Jack Casady and guitarist Jorma Kaukonen from Hot Tuna joined the fray (Bob still out there; Jackie switching to keyboards) and tackled “Death Don’t Have No Mercy,” “I Know You Rider” and finally, “Viola Lee Blues” one mo’ time. Not a bad start to the weekend, eh?

Both Saturday and Sunday, most of the early afternoon action at the Fairgrounds was on the two smaller outdoor stages. The Sunshine Stage, which was just a few hundred feet to the side of the main bowl stage and facing rows of actual benches (rather than being at the foot of a grassy slope like the big stage) hosted such groups as The Waybacks (probably the best-known of the bunch), Honeymoon, Carney, Maiden Lane, Common Rotation (with Dan Bern) and Blue Light River (led by Phil’s son Brian).

Just inside the main entrance, in a beautiful area of green grass surrounded by various sprawling shade trees, sat the tiny Dark Hollow acoustic music stage, presided over by Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams. I spent nearly all of Saturday afternoon there, as a parade of fine acts took to the stage. After a few numbers from Larry and Teresa (who also turned up to play at some point with everyone who graced “their” stage), Jemimah Puddleduck came on and played a fabulous set (Mark Karan and Bob Grosse on acoustic guitar and bass respectively, keyboardist John “J.T.” Thomas on accordion for the occasion, and two dynamic percussionists—Wally Ingram and Joe Chirco) that included such cool tunes “It Takes A Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry,” a swingin’ take on “Don’t Let Go,” Randy Newman’s beautiful “Think It’s Gonna Rain,” Gram Parsons’ “She,” the Dead’s “Easy Wind,” and a couple of MK originals. There was lots of jamming even in this acoustic format—it was definitely some of the best music I heard at the Furthur Fest. Guitarist/singer Brian Lesh’s Americana band Blue Light River (featuring the appealing singer Lindsay Brauner) also acquitted themselves nicely (in front of proud papa Phil, who sat casually with wife Jill and friends on the lawn in the meadow) with a set that combined some original songs with covers including “Queen Jane Approximately” and, most intriguing of all, the Garcia-Paul Kantner number “The Mountain Song” from the 1971 Planet Earth Rock and Roll Orchestra sessions… dare to be obscure! (Actually, only the chorus was from that song. The verses were written by Brian, and he calls it “Mountain Town.”)

Our time at the Dark Hollow stage ended with a sparkling ten-song set by the trio of Jackie Greene, Larry (on fiddle, guitar, mando and vocals) and Teresa that opened with “Bertha,” also featured a moving “Brokedown Palace,” “Sing Me Back Home,” “Don’t Let the Devil Take Your Mind” and several others before concluding with a transcendently gorgeous “Drifting Too Far from the Shore.”

During the mid-afternoon, too, both days, the Terrapin Pavilion was packed wall to wall with hundreds of Dead Heads for a couple of loosely structured Q&A sessions moderated by Furthur media relations chief J.C. Juanis and featuring lively stories from folks like Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, photographer Herbie Greene, former GD manager Rock Scully and basketball great/World’s Tallest Dead Head Bill Walton.

Then it was over to the main stage and excellent electric sets by Jemimah Puddleduck (loved “Walk Through the Fire”) and Jackie Greene (great blues workout on “The Thrill Is Gone”; a thoroughly raucous “I’m Waiting for the Man” with guest Mark Karan; hot “Like a Ball and Chain” closer) before Furthur took the stage around 8:25, when Phil stepped to the mike and dedicated the show to Larry Campbell’s mother, Maggie, who died a couple weeks earlier. “Maggie Campbell was a great friend to all music and musicians,” Phil noted, “and one of the most vital and alive people I’ve ever known… God bless you, Maggie! Dance with us!”

Let’s see, which of the six pre-announced albums will it be?… Drum roll…All right, it’s the opening strains of “Box of Rain,” which means it’s American Beauty first! I was particularly delighted by that because even though I’d seen three of the five (unannounced) “album” nights that Phil & Friends (with Jackie and Larry) played at the Warfield in SF two years ago, I’d missed the Workingman’s Dead/American Beauty night. Of course the downside of this format is that if you know the albums well, there is no mystery about what song comes next, which has always been one of the most compelling parts of the Grateful Dead and post-Jerry bands experience. Still, it’s always fascinating to hear how it all hangs together (or not) based on the relative evolution of the tunes on each album—for instance, “Till the Morning Comes” has only been played a few times by Phil’s bands in recent years (and “Operator” even less so), while songs like “Sugar Magnolia” and “Truckin’” have, obviously, been part of the ongoing history of the GD and post-GD groups for most of the past 40 years. Larry Campbell came out and added fiddle to an excellent “Friend of the Devil,” mandolin to “Ripple” and electric guitar to a few others, and Teresa joined in on the spectacular “Attics of My Life.” I also loved John K’s heartfelt “Candyman.” “Box of Rain” featured a real jam on it for the first time in my experience, and though Phil’s “Operator” stumbled in places, it still felt “new.” “Sugar Mag,” curiously, didn’t have its “Sunshine Daydream” coda. Maybe they were going to “save it” for the end, after “Truckin’,” and forgot?

The second set was, much to my surprise, Workingman’s Dead (I thought for sure they’d save that for Sunday) and it felt even more cohesive to me than American Beauty. John K. was especially strong on his version of “High Time,” and everybody cooked on an extended “New Speedway Boogie.” As you’d hope, “Uncle John’s Band” was a glorious unifying experience (nice jam, too!); “Cumberland Blues” provided non-stop hip-shakin’ excitement; and “Casey Jones” was completely out of control by the end, just like the engineer in the song.

It was no surprise that the third “album” of the evening, Anthem of the Sun, would be the most unified and jammiest of the three—after all, that album consists of connected tunes and a ton of experimental playing. However, as well-played and exploratory as the 18-minute “Other One” in the heart of the opening “That’s It for the Other One” suite was, it was also a tad sedate and well-behaved for my tastes. Much stronger was the “New Potato Caboose,” which John nailed guitar-wise and which benefitted greatly from the vocal contributions of Sunshine Becker and recent addition Jeff Pehrson. (In fact, they were superb all weekend long; I like having that extra on-pitch male voice in the mix.) John sang lead on a solid “Alligator,” and Bob took on “Caution” and did a great job on it. Phil and Joe Russo were driving that train rhythmically, while John’s guitar danced furiously on top.

The biggest shock of the night was when they came back for an encore and introduced a brand-new song with excellent Robert Hunter lyrics called “Muli Guli.” Musically it sort of reminds me of a hybrid of “U.S. Blues” and “Pride of Cucamonga”—a Grateful Dead shuffle all the way. Phil, Bob and John traded off on the lead vocals. The set then concluded with the de rigeur (but still appreciated) “Saturday Night.” Funky New Orleans jammeisters Galactic then kept the Frogtown Fillmore rockin’ in the late, late night slot.

Here's the setting for the main stage,
amid the rolling hills of Calaveras County.
Photo: BJ

Day Three broke warm and sunny and once again saw plenty of great music on the two small stages before the Mother Hips hit the main stage in the late afternoon. On the acoustic stage, Dan Bern’s group, Common Rotation, was well-received, and Blue Light River played another set, this time joined by Phil and the older of his two musical sons, Grahame—nice to have two generations so happy together onstage! Jackie Greene and Tim Bluhm of the Mother Hips did one of their upbeat and harmony-filled Skinny Singers sets (aided by Nikki Bluhm), and country-rock singer-songwriter J.C. Flyer played a couple of his original tunes in the midst of a set by stage hosts Larry Campbell and Teresa Williams (who again offered their services to anyone who needed an extra voice or stringed instrument part at the Dark Hollow stage). For many, the highlight was undoubtedly the appearance of Hot Tuna’s Jack and Jorma and mandolinist Barry Mitterhoff (joined a bit by Larry Campbell, natch) for a set of deep country blues and old-time folk numbers. After all, Tuna was the original psychedelic acoustic group in the SF scene!

Electric Hot Tuna also smoked on the main stage during their hour-and-a-half slot. Besides Jack, Jorma and Barry, the current lineup consists of journeyman guitarist G.E. Smith (most recently with Moonalice), and drummer Skoota Warner. The red-hot band’s 11-song set included favorites such as “I See the Light,” “Rock Me Baby,” “Corners Without Exits,” “99 Year Blues” and “Bowlegged Woman, Knock-Kneed Man.” Yowza!

Furthur, Night Two: With three “albums” remaining, the biggest question was the order in which they would be played. Furthur prolonged the mystery by opening their first set with a four-and-half minute jam which finally ended up at… Baddup-Baaaaaa!...i.e. “Help on the Way”! Yeah! Blues for Allah! This should be interesting… And it was. The “Help-Slip-Frank” was powerful and (just about) perfectly executed (especially the “Slipknot!” jam.) Drummer Joe Russo—a skins-smackin’ savage all weekend—laid down a little solo before the group exploded into a ten-minute “King’s Solomon’s Marbles,” JK and Jeff C. soloing effectively during the churning middle section; the whole group negotiating every twist and turn with fluidity and ease. John’s “Crazy Fingers” was truly a thing of beauty, with a lilting final jam that went on and on, and Bob’s instrumental “Sage and Spirit” was a sonorous quartet with no drums—lovely!

But still, looming off in the distance—the 800-pound camel in the room—was the “Blues for Allah” suite. How the hell were they gonna pull that off? Really well, that’s how! Man, you’d think it had been a regular part of their repertoire these past 35 years. The vocal passages were spot-on (all the weirdly designed harmonies in place), the instrumental flights in between actually more interesting than on the Grateful Dead album (fabulous drum fills by Joe R. during the opening minutes), and I love the way after the last verse they went into this strange, raunchy blues riff for a bit (hey, it is called “Blues for Allah”) before it settled into the lovely last vocal refrain: “Under e-ter-ni-ty…” Fantastic! Quite an achievement!

The second set was Aoxomoxoa, another disc with intriguing possibilities and its own set of challenges. Now, back at the Warfield in 2008, Teresa Williams turned out to be the secret ingredient that allowed Phil & Friends (with Larry and Jackie) to navigate through the previously uncharted waters of “What’s Become of the Baby” and “Rosemary.” Well, there she was again, dueting with Phil on “Baby” when the time came; nice to have her around! But first, the “St. Stephen” kickoff was full of fire and great playing, and then right after the “what would be the answer to the answer man?” line, they lurched right into “Dupree’s,” the story passionately “told” by JK both vocally and with his guitar (aided by Larry C. on sprightly fiddle). Jeff also shone brightly on that one. Larry stayed on for “Rosemary,” etching the melody with a sweet violin line, accompanied by a simple guitar line from JK, before Phil (alone) entered with a nearly whispered first verse. Other instruments soon came in quietly, but the song stayed appropriately understated and dreamy throughout. “Doin’ That Rag” built a nice head of steam in the concluding jam (and they did sing the a capella part at the end), and then came another superbly trippy and varied “Mountains of the Moon” (with more fiddle!), followed closely by “China Cat”—always a crowd-pleaser; neat hearing Jeff playing the T.C. organ fills from the album version. Instead of rolling into “I Know You Rider,” however, the jam after the song disassembled until it drifted into a tamboura-like drone to usher in the bizarre “What’s Become of the Baby.” Seems like the whole accompaniment was electronic swoops, feedback and other strange sounds. Phil and Teresa traded verses in what was one of the more abstract and moderne pieces this band (or any) has attempted. Crazykool! The set ended with a nice extended “Cosmic Charlie.”

I wouldn’t have guessed going into the weekend that Terrapin Station would wind up being one of the best, if not the best, set of the weekend, but that was certainly the case! (Again, I was only there Saturday; I bought a FLAC download of Sunday, and Saturday—what tremendous recordings!) It’s tough to explain what was so great about this set, but it starts with a dynamite “Estimated” that hit all of its marks with passion and precision. Once again, Sunshine and Jeff P. really added some heft with their backup vocals, and John’s guitar work was filled with fire and energy. The long concluding jam then drifted into a “Dancing in the Streets” that was like a hybrid of the Dead’s late ’70s disco interpretation of the tune (as on the Terrapin Station album) and their more melodic (and faithful) reading, circa ’69-’70 (and ’84-’85). Quite unusual, but they pulled it off. John had that percussive, chirping Garcia guitar tone from the late ’70s down perfectly. (Too bad they didn’t attempt the wild jam they used to do after the main song part in that era!) “Passenger” and “Samson” both rocked ferociously (the entrance to the latter was changed—rather than having a drum opening, it started with the chorus; a nice switcheroo), and then came the real shocker of the night: Donna Jean’s “Sunrise,” sung magnificently (and majestically) by Teresa Williams. Wow! (You can find a solid, albeit unauthorized, audience video of this tune here). And then that led directly into a “Terrapin” for the ages: Not just the “Lady with a Fan” and “Terrapin Station” sections that are usually performed, but the whole shebang, including the “Terrapin Transit” bridge (you love it on your recording of 3/18/77; the only time the Dead played it live), “At A Siding” (“while you were gone…” etc. with Bob and John trading vocals) and then the wildly exciting “Terrapin Flyer” section (which RatDog has been playing wonderfully for the past few years), totally propelled by the Beast from the East, Joe Russo, and ending up at the reprise of the “Terrapin” jam. (Here’s the same stealth videographer’s take of the last ten minutes of the suite).The transitions were flawless, the jamming expansive… Awesome!

The evening—and the festival—concluded with a short but spirited “Not Fade Away,” and then the 9,000 or so on hand returned to their campsites or stumbled back to their cars for the drive back home. All in all, quite a weekend. We should do it again some time.