Sugaree
New Minglewood Blues
Scarlet Begonias
Looks Like Rain
They Love Each Other
Mama Tried
Ship of Fools
Playin' in the Band
drums
The Wheel
Playin' in the Band
Brown Eyed Women
Samson and Delilah
Friend of the Devil
Let it Grow
Eyes of the World
Wharf Rat
The Other One
Music Never Stopped
Johnny B. Goode
dead comment
You REALLY need to hear the Playin etc.
You REALLY need to hear the Playin etc.
I was on stage shooting Super 8mm for the opening song!
You REALLY need to hear the Playin etc.
Yes indeed you do! And it was during the first set, which caught everybody off guard including the Dead. A truly spontaneous improvised freeform excursion that had me thinking, "This has to be what the acid test music sounded like." There were sounds coming out of the speakers that nobody could have expected. The musicians were looking at each other with that unmistakable "Where-did-THAT-come-from" expression. Total surprise. One of a kind. After that memorable set, they coasted through a happy second set, playing brilliantly and with great humor. During "Let It Grow," Weir flubbed the lyrics, shrugged, and stepped back from the mic. Stepping forward again for the next verse, he made the mistake of glancing over at Garcia, who made a silly face at him, and Weir lost it completely, as did the whole audience. A wonderful night. My idiot roommate blew off this show to work overtime at his job. Looking to be a good Deadhead citizen, I sold the spare ticket at face value to the first hitchhiker I met on the way, and was not at all surprised when a completely different stranger sat down next to me an hour later. We shared a joint without ever sharing a word. A week later I ran into Garcia as he was getting into his BMW on Lombard Street in SF. I thanked him for the shows and he asked which ones I attended. "Tuesday and Wednesday," I said. "Oh, yeah," he responded with a smile. "Those were GOOD nights."
Yes indeed you do! And it was during the first set, which caught everybody off guard including the Dead. A truly spontaneous improvised freeform excursion that had me thinking, "This has to be what the acid test music sounded like." There were sounds coming out of the speakers that nobody could have expected. The musicians were looking at each other with that unmistakable "Where-did-THAT-come-from" expression. Total surprise. One of a kind. After that memorable set, they coasted through a happy second set, playing brilliantly and with great humor. During "Let It Grow," Weir flubbed the lyrics, shrugged, and stepped back from the mic. Stepping forward again for the next verse, he made the mistake of glancing over at Garcia, who made a silly face at him, and Weir lost it completely, as did the whole audience. A wonderful night. My idiot roommate blew off this show to work overtime at his job. Looking to be a good Deadhead citizen, I sold the spare ticket at face value to the first hitchhiker I met on the way, and was not at all surprised when a completely different stranger sat down next to me an hour later. We shared a joint without ever sharing a word. A week later I ran into Garcia as he was getting into his BMW on Lombard Street in SF. I thanked him for the shows and he asked which ones I attended. "Tuesday and Wednesday," I said. "Oh, yeah," he responded with a smile. "Those were GOOD nights."