Grateful Dead

This was the first (and probably last) time I'd seen a full page ad in the LA Times for any Bay Area concert. We'd been hearing for months that the Dead were rolling again, so this was So Cal's first crack at 'em (never mind that the Shrine tickets went on sale about a week later). This was a fine excuse for a road trip, and in our particular instance, the road trip took on a life of it's own... I bought a couple tickets and I'd asked my guitar-playing buddy if he wanted to tag along (he wasn't a DeadHead, but Garcia had literally played TO him at a tiny Legion Of Mary gig I'd dragged him to, so he seemed like a ripe choice). Plan was to book cheap flights to SF. My pal then counter-suggested that we fly to Sacramento instead, as he was desperately missing his girlfriend whose mother had sent to UC Davis to remove her from the local band scene. So we booked to Sacramento. The following falls under the heading of "things we used to do when we were young and bold, or young and stupid, or just young, or just stupid", but in those days you could smoke on planes. So there we were toking in line until we crossed the gangplank. Then in-flight in a near empty plane we had another smoke (and wondering if that weird bubbly feeling was the bends in reverse!), only to immediately land again in OC to pickup more passengers (oops), and deflected the stewardess' scowls for the remainder of the trip. Fortunately no air marshalls greeted us. The girlfriend picked us up and we partied until late, then the two of them retired somewhere in the dorms for the night. Next morning I was up at dawn for the drive; but no sign of them. (Had to laugh through my grimace; who was I to stand in the way of lust?) About 480 anxious minutes later they arrived, but decided they wouldn't function until we'd endured some very slow breakfast service at Sambo's. It was now showtime and the gig was a good hour away. We flew down the road in the open VW convertible and pulled into the massive complex, grabbed a third ticket and scurried in. The 1st Dead set had come and gone and it was break time. A nice sunshiny day, not crowded as it hadn't sold out. We took comfortable seats in the stands. The stage was in the outfield and there was a massive painted facade of a town scene covering the speakers; it wasn't the wall of sound configuration, but hard to tell. Some bozo in an Uncle Sam hat was selling sugar cubes; nothing less and definitely nothing more. Finally, the band came on and into St Stephen and beyond. The playing was quite pretty; the long medley noodled (and I mean that nicely) like an Indian raga. Hart was now back, yet it was a "lighter" sounding band. It was not very loud where we were, and the actual dynamics were quite different to the Wall's sound. Garcia seemed to be enjoying a Travis Bean guitar. A new repetitive progression with lyrics about "tearing the place down" emerged, jammed, and disappeared again into the Allah medley before Saturday night and US Blues. I'd missed 1/2 the show, but hey, I'm a second set kinda guy. It was still afternoon when the Who came on for their usual muscular set. (Even when I'd seen them in '71 they had lost some of the spontaneity of earlier years, but they'd evolved into a proto-metal band.) We wandered down on the field for a closer look. I remember mostly Moonie pretending to be 3 or 4 drummers and punctuating every note and nuance the band could throw at him. During band introductions he stood up on his riser doing a "Thank Me More!, Thank Me More!" thing. It was the last time I saw him. The sun was setting as we drove back to Davis and the airport. Everybody got a bit of what they'd come for, "lurve" was in the air, and there were the Shrine shows to look forward to.

From a half mile away I could hear the rumble of Phil's bass. Nothing like outdoor Dead. Only thing better is outdoor Dead at night. The Who were an afterthought at this one.

Got the analog in 1985 and listened to it until it was released as DP 33.A definate marker in my GD DNA. As Pauli says, the Slipknot....beyond the pale. “The Omnipotent Grateful Dead!”