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Showing posts with label 1973. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1973. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

1973 March 24 - The Spectrum

 

GRATEFUL DEAD
Saturday, March 24, 1973
The Spectrum - Philadelphia, PA
Soundboard Recording


So we established early on that I set up the Grateful Dead Listening Guide playing the character of an old hippie guy living across the street from you. One day a couple of years ago you and he struck up a conversation, and soon you found yourself invited over to the old guy's basement where you were seated in the sweet spot between artfully spaced stereo speakers as he began pulling tapes off the wall, filling your ears with stories, enchantments and mysteries deep and vast.

Judging from your repeated return visits, everything has gone very well. You continually enjoy an endless parade of music-magic, and the old hippie finds tremendous pleasure in learning more about his own spiritual connection to the music through this sharing and the reflected joy it clearly produces in your welcoming eyes and ears.

By this point we've share a great deal of music and it sometimes becomes a slight struggle for the old hippie to pick the next tape. This time, rather than trying to outdo myself by producing a completely hidden gem, I've decided to go back to one of the very first shows I ever received from the year 1973.

March 24th 1973 is well circulated, and I wore my own tape thin way back when my grand total of 1973 shows was about 2. Perhaps because of this, the show never really struck me as something to recommend to you here. Perhaps I felt somehow that the show's magic wasn't unique enough. Maybe I thought that it was too commonplace a tape. No matter the reason, it didn't help that I hadn't listened to the show in a very, very long time. That all changed on a whim when I pulled the show back out.

Revisiting it now, I'm struck with the realization that this show I so easily let myself forget over the years possesses a heaping helping of that which I treasure most about 1973 Grateful Dead jamming – a certain nimble jazzy Ferris wheel sound that I often only find deep in the summer of this fine year. It's no wonder that this, as one of my very first tapes, cemented my lifelong connection to the Dead, and to 1973 in particular.

Set 1: Bertha, Beat It On Down The Line, Don't Ease Me In, The Race Is On, Cumberland Blues, Box Of Rain, Row Jimmy, Jack Straw, They Love Each Other, Mexicali Blues, Tennessee Jed, Looks Like Rain, Wave That Flag, El Paso, Here Comes Sunshine, Me & Bobby McGee, Loser, Playin' In The Band
Set 2: Promised Land, China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider, Big River, Stella Blue, Me & My Uncle, He's Gone > Truckin' > Spanish Jam > Space > Dark Star > Sing Me Back Home > Sugar Magnolia E: Johnny B. Goode

The pleasures of this show are not only waiting deep in the second set. We are treated to a lovely first set and quite an extended Playin' In The Band to wrap it up. Psychedelics explode on the scene as if they've been held back to the bursting point. The music swirls. Colors bleed. Jerry casts out leads that tip toe deftly over rolling river rapids, often taking a path up over tree tops and then incredibly threading between blades of grass. Late in the jam we find Garcia taking a break while the rest of the band continues to churn with a kaleidoscoping display of yellow-orange embers dancing through burning logs. Jerry returns and adds searing white and fuchsia flames to the mix as the song returns to close the first set.

China>Riders in March 1973 are noteworthy for often delivering an unprecedented amount of energy and momentum, and the one here on March 24th wastes little time living up to the reputation. The transition jam flies. The band locks into a shuffle with Garcia streaming sunbeams, and the familiar four-chord jam, while not being as heavily pronounced as in other versions, does not disappoint as we transition into I Know You Rider. With solo sections that burst with that joyful effervescence that defines the Dead in so many ways, we can't help but smile throughout the entire song.

Of course it's the shows extended jam in the second set that places this show on a pedestal, and for good reason. Out of Truckin' the band lets the music settle into a meadow of grass where wind barely whispers. Jerry delicately lofts out the opening lines of Dark Star, yet no one takes the reins with him. Instead, the entire band slips effortlessly into a rolling jazzy 1973 jam that typifies the year completely. This jam is as reminiscent of the big '73 Watkins Jam as nearly anything else on record in this year or otherwise. The tempo flies as Garcia unleashes long staccato runs that reflect and echo upon themselves leaving trails in the air, cutting a dewy mist with ripples of energy. The purity of the Grateful Dead's musical soul is stretched into the sky, pulling us into a rapturous dance erasing all physical barriers. In this music we feel the Grateful Dead resonate far more deeply within us than words may express.

A small guitar break finds Billy and Phil bebopping out a Drum and Bass solo. The rest of the band returns and picks up right where it left off. We are lost, fuse and reflected within the invisible fabric that beats in the empty space of atoms. Soon a Spanish Jam appears and is quickly vaporized into caverns, light years deep. Great drops of sound randomly take shape and gather together with invisible gravities. Orbits shimmer. Waves rise and fall. Slowly a subtle symphony takes shape. Singing stars and slowly bowed strings rise into harmonies, and the sky fills with a thousand sunsets. An ocean-sized crescendo, as delicate as an evening breeze through trees fills the infinity all around. Dark Star appears.

While it can easily be touted as the shortest Dark Star on record (at only about four and a half minutes), all fairness points to Garcia tipping the Dark Star hand some twenty-two minutes prior as the jam first took form. But we aren't here to quibble over the length of the song. The music flutters like slow rolling redwood tree-sized velvet drapes stretched for a hundred miles around us. And we are eventually left in awe as the band transitions liquidly into Sing Me Back Home. Here the gospel overtones conjure up that familiar feeling of sitting around a campfire, as a story is told. When Garcia hits his solo, notes blossom streaming flower pedals all around. He somehow conjures every ounce of the sound system's power into delicate footsteps that leave no trace in the sand. Grace, as simply delivered as ever.

A classic Dead tape to be sure. Worth the listen even if its been sitting on a shelf for a quarter century or more.

Monday, February 15, 2010

1973 May 20 - Santa Barbara, CA

Grateful Dead 05/20/73 by Michael Parish

GRATEFUL DEAD
Sunday, May 20, 1973
Campus Stadium, U.C.S.B. – Santa Barbara, CA
Audience & Soundboard Recordings

If you've been reading these pages for a long while, here's confirmation that new riches can forever be discovered in the Grateful Dead's concert history. A personal favorite, we come to this performance after two years of reviewing other shows before it. Yet the magic within this concert could rightfully have placed its review among the first handful added to the site.

Through the luck of timing and good trading partners I was able to feature this recording as the very first round of my Audience Devotional Tree. In this day of not having to hunt down lists and strike up relationships to acquire new tapes, it is difficult to convey the excitement and power associated with being able to turn on an enormous crowd of traders to a previously un-circulating gem. But such was most certainly the case when I had the pleasure of digitally seeding out this tape back in 2000. Historically through the tape trading ages, there were always a few armfuls of dates which could cause most any trader's eyes to go wide. Bumping into a known low-gen, complete audience tape upgrade of 05/20/73 was indeed one of them.

Set 1: Bertha, Me & My Uncle, Box Of Rain, Deal, Looks Like Rain, Tennessee Jed, The Race Is On, China Cat Sunflower > I Know You Rider, Beat It On Down The Line, They Love Each other, Playin' In The Band
Set 2: Promised land, Brown Eyed Women, Mexicali Blues, Row Jimmy, Jack Straw, Big Railroad Blues, Greatest Story Every Told, Here Comes Sunshine, Big River, Loser, El Paso, Casey Jones
Set 3: Truckin' > Other One > Eyes Of The World > Stella Blue, Sugar Magnolia E: Johnny B. Goode


Bob Weir 05/20/73 by Michael ParrishThe show is an enormous three set monster in an outdoor stadium, packed full of classic 1973 fare. But things go wildly off the charts as the band moves from Truckin' into Nobody's Jam and beyond. Some sort of cosmic switch gets flipped, and the band takes off, pulling every living soul deeply into the secret spaces of their private musical muse.

As the Nobody's Fault But Mine Jam falls away, a door opens into the purest of Grateful Dead improvisational exploration. The guitars begin to echo each other's little triplets and runs, like birds or coyotes conversing across miles of forest. This echoing casts the music into a slippery kaleidoscope of interweaving musical measures. In mere moments, the audience tape is defying all possibility of representing just some kid holding a microphone amidst a sea of concert-goers in an outdoor stadium. Every conceivable distraction is bleached away into a burning white backdrop leaving nothing but the steady flow of music to fill the ever expanding "now." It's as if some incomprehensibly intricate network of gears has finally slipped into sync setting free an experience that sears away all but our most inner attention. The music grows and turns, drawing this singular moment into one prolonged expression of joy.

These are psychedelic winds. Banners furling, catching sunlight, reflecting raindrops. Colors pooling, intermixing, turning infinite hues beyond count. The jam that has opened up here is fully immersed in the richness of the Grateful Dead's truest expression. The cadence and the loping lazy jazzy journeying are singularly the Dead's. It's been a long show, and they have finally made it to their own desired destination. They let this music play itself. It expands and contracts causing the ground and sky around us the breath peacefully.

Jerry Garcia 05/20/73 by Michael ParrishIt's late May 1973, and if you trace the musical undercurrents that evolved over the 30 year history of the band, you can actually pick out the binding ties between the purest improvisational moments from the Fall of '72 and what we would hear fully develop into the jazzy 1973 playing style that came in late June ‘73 and beyond. In this jamming the convergence produces an utter uniqueness which sweeps us away in an uplifting joyfulness tinged deeply with psychedelic feedom. This is one of the finest 8 minutes to come out of 1973 altogether. It's impossible for you not to close your eyes and smile as Bobby strums sunbeams, Jerry whips out licks that spiral like wisps of perfumed incense, Phil bounds down a hill like a big bear, and Keith fills all the empty spaces perfectly.

Tell tale hints of Other One precede a short drum break. The crowd around us reappears, as if coming up for air. At the end of Drums, in the split second before Other One explodes, we are treated to one of those "audience tape only" moments where someone shouts out something so nicely timed that it catapults the pleasure of the musical experience even higher. A guy calls out "Hey man!" and over him the Other One tidal wave explodes, impossibly huge. We are immediately locked directly back into the glowing furnace of musical purity. It's such a great one of those audience moments that I even made sure to set the track ID a half second early to be sure to start the Other One track with this guy's call out.

Surging along with its full force gale, Other One thunders to fill every empty cavity of time and space. Familiar rhythms sing to us, while the band stokes the fire. We burst into the first verse and it slingshots us out into a portion of music where all previous tethers to reality come undone. Jerry and Phil slowly disown the song's key signature as the count of measures is replaced by a gurgling slow motion sea. Outer space stories in languages beyond words come through the music as Billy's drumming falls completely away and the rest of the band dances as delicately as dew under starlight. The music keeps pushing further into this outer world. New passages appear bringing unknown landscapes and perspectives. Eventually, we slide into the "Tiger" meltdown and Garcia's guitar explodes into a fire hose torrent of broken glass. Physical reality is splintered infinitely in an onrush of fractaled mirroring wormholes.

Phil Lesh 05/20/73 by Michael ParrishAnd then, outdoing the jam before Other One, a passage emerges fueled by Bobby hammering out a percussive Caution-like strumming with Billy's intricate cymbal and snare work. Over this, Jerry begins hitting wide, gaping, primal bell-tone notes which stand as tall as dinosaurs. He adjusts his settings and his sound transforms into something more full of high and low end than can be imagined existing on this mono outdoor recording. Our being is elevated beyond recognition. He takes us so far away we might never find our way back. Phil is stomping broad strokes at impossible angles. Keith is ringing gorgeous bell tones of his own which he would do all too infrequently in the Summer of 73. The music pulses and pulls with unrecognizable sounds and details which defy knowing. The recording has somehow become immeasurably intimate. It seems to be born from the center of our soul more than off of some enormous scaffolding of stage in the distance in front of us. We are more music than anything else; more the Dead than the audience. This end portion jam is fleeting, yet it delivers an overflowing measure of the Grateful Dead's truest face; its heart of hearts. As is often the case, we are in a place absent of any desire to leave. The Eyes OF The World that follows is wonderful. Played at a cooled down tempo, it endlessly flows with rivers of sunshine.

The classic 1973 fare that represents the rest of this show is peppered with some outstanding moments. China>Rider and Playin' are obvious tunes worth some listening. But even more than that, there are a few real stand outs in the second set. Big Railroad Blues and Greatest Story Every Told tower beyond any preconceived notion you might have of these tunes as mid-set filler. Both Weir and Garcia deliver knockout strength blows throughout. At the risk of now having over-hyped them for you, make a point of giving these your full attention. I return to them every once in a while when I want to be reminded of the versions that made me a big fan of these songs over all.

05/20/73 AUD etree source info
05/20/73 AUD Download

05/20/73 SBD etree source info
05/20/73 SBD Stream Audio

05/20/73 photos by Michael Parrish

Saturday, August 1, 2009

1973 June 30 - Universal Amphitheatre

Jerry Garcia Sept 26, 1973

GRATEFUL DEAD
Saturday, June 30, 1973
Universal Amphitheatre – Universal City, CA
Audience Recording

Deadheads can stay up late into the night debating several eternal questions. One of these is often goes like this: If you had a time machine, what Grateful Dead show, or run of shows, would you go back to attend? For me, I can pretty confidently say that I’d be setting the dial for the three day run from Universal City, California at the end of June, 1973 to attend the 6/29, 6/30, and 7/1 shows.

I’d be lucky in that it wouldn’t be too crowded – nothing like the time travel pile up going on over around 05/08/77. The ’73 Universal City run is not popular. In all my years of tape trading I’ve never bumped into anyone who shares quite my enthusiasm for the whole Summer of 1973 thing, and the Universal City run is arguably the low point of the summer, given all the fireworks surrounding it. Even after years of getting up on soapboxes in online Dead forums, and clearly taking every opportunity to talk about it here on the GDLG, I doubt very highly that I could fill a room with like-minded folks. Oh, several people are glad that I’ve hipped them to the golden yummies to be found in this period, but enough for these folks to make this selection in the Way Back Machine? I doubt it. And no offense taken, I’ve learned to accept that there is clearly something firing a little differently in my brain when it comes to this stuff. So… I’d have plenty of legroom traveling in time back to these shows.

Of course, the fact that there apparently wasn’t a swarm of future dwellers packing the rafters on 05/08/77 raising their hand held mobile devices in the air, glowing with a somewhat more annoying light than say, a bic lighter (though there would also be some iPhone holders running the zippo lighter app, I’m sure), means that we either never figure out time travel, or that when we do (did), we luck out and find all the Dead shows splintered into an endless refraction of themselves related to our own personal time-space continuums allowing each of us our own “copy” to attend. Each show is actually happening all the time, and our linear experience of them is merely called into our perception at the moment we hop across the continuum and step into the parking lot an hour or two before show time. Oops… digression.

June 30th, 1973 was one of those low circulating and forever “AUD only” shows (all before the passing of Dick Latvala and the ensuing circulation of so many soundboards), and my copy was crusty. While I did luck out in 2001 to bump into a 7” reel copy from the assumed master AUD reel itself, and put it into circulation via my Audience Devotional Tree, for the longest time I had this tape copy that bordered on being of slightly too poor quality to trade. This was a real issue for me because of how deeply the music on this tape was tapping into my heart. That I was able to circulate a better copy which peeled off the layer of off-pitch hissy crust, was an absolute dream come true. After 2001, it was much easier for 06/30/73 to get its point across. And shortly after, when the soundboard started making it around, it almost didn’t matter. The SBD sounds great, yet has absolutely no life to it at all – and this propagated the bad reputation this date lives with.

This show has that familiar brand of 1973 jazzy psychedelia that I’ve been pointing out for a while. Yet where a show like 06/22/73 reaches peaks that nearly bring one to tears as the band finds its way deeply into improvisational transcendence, 06/30/73 is sort of the opposite. This show feels more like on great pulse in the heartbeat of the Grateful Dead rather than something full of peaks and valleys. The show’s highlights swell more that explode, and I think it is because of this that this tape offers another sensational full show experience. This is only enhanced by the fact that the recording quality of this audience tape is nearly unparallel throughout the rest of 1973.

Grateful Dead March 24, 1973 by John PotenzaPutting into circulation another upgraded version of this recording (linked below, as usual) allowed me to converse about and “study” the archeology of this recording a bit more thoroughly. It turns out that the band’s sound crew was making audience tapes directly at the sound board at this time, and supplying them to the band. This newest version confirms that the reel was dubbed in 1979 directly off of Garcia’s own tape stash. As heavenly a lineage as one could wish for. The recording fits in as one of the very best recordings of 1973. It succeeds in not only capturing the ’73 version of the Wall Of Sound perfectly, but also presents an enormous helping of that hard to capture audience energy and spirit. It’s a multi-dimensional experience, and all of this in unavoidable as one listens to this tape.

Set 1: Promised, The Love Each Other, Mexicali Blues, Tennessee Jed, Looks Like Rain, Bird Song, Cumberland Blues, Row Jimmy, Jack Straw, Deal, Beat It On Down The Line, Black Peter, Playin’ In The Band

Set 2: Greatest Story Ever Told, Ramble On Rose, El Paso, Dark Star > Eyes Of The World > Stella Blue, Sugar Magnolia E: Saturday Night

1973 is known for a degree of repetitiveness in its first sets. It’s not that the band wasn’t playing a large repertoire of songs. There was plenty of variety there. I think it’s more a widely held opinion among traders born out of having listened to a lot of 1973 shows. I think the first sets are better described as “predictable.” However, perhaps it comes down to distance making the heart grow fonder, but when I listen back to 06/30/73’s first set now, it thoroughly satisfies. There is a powerful sense of ease and enjoyment flowing out of the music. The extremely predictable 1973 Promised Land opener feels full of smiles. They Love Each Other swings, and I have found myself unable to shake rolling the car windows down and playing this tune at full blast on recent summer days. It sets the air alight with dancing energy, and only grows as it goes. Jerry’s solo tumbles out, bobbing and weaving as if it were shaking its hair and stomping its feet. Just as we’re sure it’s over, he takes it around the track again lifting the energy all the more. The sound quality of this recording combined with the close proximity of the audience around the taper serve to create an intoxicating representation of the Dead in 1973 here, and it’s only just getting started.

Mexicali shimmers and is followed by a strong Tennessee Jed containing another solo in which Jerry stirs the energy pot to boiling, aided by Phil’s low end standing as large as the entire amphitheatre. The song crashes out of the solo, and the crowd goes nuts. A thick and warm Looks Like Rain follows, and then we arrive at Bird Song.

It’s early in the show, yet Bird Song casts out an energy much more aligned with precious time spent deep in the heart of a Grateful Dead concert. The music twinkles, as if rising off of a crystalline waterfall bathed in sunlight. In short order, we float out over its edge and begin a weightless journey into Jerry’s solo. It’s a moment that expands in every direction around you, shedding the personal borders of skin and bone, and fusing you to the music’s core. Bird Songs in 1973 were very consistent, and without fail, this one latches on to Dark Star elements wrapped in a slightly more lyrical presentation. Eventually, just before returning for the last verse, Garcia is playing harmonics with Keith echoing and playing off of them on the Fender Rhodes. The twinkling crystal is everywhere unraveling the mysteries of the universe and veiling the answers as quickly as they appear. Out of the last verse, we are set aloft again. This is heart opening music which spreads its own arms wide enough to embrace the entire horizon as a sunset’s light gently swirls like smoke off of a candle’s flame.

After Bird Song we are fully in the zone of a Grateful Dead show. The crowd idly hoots and hollers, while the band lazily puts together the building blocks of the next song. Cumberland Blues is coming as clear as day. This minute or so between songs finds me transfixed every time I listen. Something comes off of the tape which defies my own explanation. I don’t expect you to find it with me – it seems impossible to say, “listen to this amazing space between Bird Song and Cumberland,” so I won’t go out on that limb. In trying to give it a more tangible perspective, I think it’s simply more evidence of how this particular recording breathes with the strongest representation of a Dead Show’s energy, both within and in between the music. Again, the entire tape is like one enormous heartbeat in the pulse of 1973 Dead.

When Phil kicks it in to Cumberland Blues, we are off to the races. One thing that I have no trouble mentioning is my opinion that I find this to be my absolute favorite, and possibly the best Cumberland Blues I’ve ever heard the band play. It is this very recording that sparked and cemented my theory of thematic undercurrents running through the decades of this band. In this Cumberland, Viola Lee Blues is alive and well. Jerry is clearly allowing all the exploration of that earliest of Grateful Dead “jams” to infuse and distil into his Cumberland solo work. Psychedelic Bluegrass to the highest degree. When his solo begins to cycle into a whirlpooled syncopation leading down a twisting rabbit hole, the already clear Viola Lee tendencies come bursting forth causing us to laugh out loud and shake or heads in stark amazement. It’s molten primal Grateful Dead, splashing in every direction. If you play the game with me about which five Grateful Dead songs would you take to a desert island, this Cumberland Blues would be coming with me. The fire within this version provides an anchor to this show, and it spreads out in every direction.

Row Jimmy exudes its 1973 aura beautifully, followed by thoroughly enjoyable versions of Jack Straw, Deal, and Beat It On Down The Line. Black Peter is so perfectly placed in this first set, it can’t be imagined anywhere else. After BIODTL (that’s the old cassette label abbreviation of Beat It On Down The Line, kids. Did you need me to spell that out?) has drawn everyone to their feet for a free for all dance, Black Peter sends us all into the most serene and contemplative spaces of Grateful Dead music. It’s another quite campfire story moment as Jerry weaves his tale. His solo on this song surpasses expectation, bringing a lamenting sorrow onto the wings of eagles. The solo soars and floats, sears and settles directly into your heart. This beautiful version comes to an end and we are back in the zone with the audience in no hurry for whatever comes next. A guy screams out, “Hello, Jerry!” and we laugh lightly with the rest of the people around the mics. It’s another wonderful human layer coming off of this recording – a Dead show being captured in every way.

Playin’ In The Band demonstrates every characteristic which describes the Summer 1973 sound of the Grateful Dead. As the jam opens up, Billy’s drumming spirals out into jazzy riffs and downbeat defying patterns. He is at once fully charged, yet thoroughly laid back in the pocket, forcing nothing. The band on top of him wastes no time dropping completely into a controlled psychedelic wind storm and the tendrils give way, knot, compress, and zig zag back out with a never ending fluidity. The music balances between a looseness and being a daredevil contortionist in ways not fully explored earlier in the year, nor after. Garcia is rearing back and firing off phrases which coil into the air, extending beyond vision. They round corners trailing themselves in liquid never-ending reflections until it appears that all of the notes are made of one pure yet ever-changing voice. Everything is at once fragmented yet showing us precisely how it all fits together. The jam is remarkably too short. Not that it is substantially shorter than most normal Playin’s of the day, but it is clear that this particular version had things growing which could go on for eons. And on the next night, we’d find that Playin’ would not be contained, setting the pace for the song locking into a tradition of going on longer, and exploring much further, as the summer continued.

Set two arrives with Greatest Story Ever Told, and it absolutely nails the psychedelic strut boogie counterpoint that the song was hitting so well in 1973. It’s a fantastic second set opener, and mounts an ever expanding energy climax through the solo until the sound is pressing us back like a gale force wind. The crowd takes a while to simmer down afterwards, and just as it does, Ramble On Rose begins. In every way the epitome of that Europe ’72, American Dead sound, Ramble On Rose blurs the lines between rock and country leaving us with something wholly Grateful Dead. It’s a lot like Mississippi Half Step in that way. And this version shines a polish on everything distinctive about the song. If the tune could ever come off as a bit of a throw away, it isn’t happening here at all. Maybe having a bit to do with that dominant wall of sound that is pressing upon us, and the way Phil’s bass is occupying air to such an extent that we struggle for breath, this song satisfies entirely.

El Paso delivers a cascading cowboy kaleidoscope, spinning so quickly we can’t help but be swept up into a tumbleweed rolling frenzy. The song feels like it’s riding lightning and we can only grab on as tightly as possible not to be lost to the wind. And then a different wind blows in as Dark Star descends.

Like a magician blowing a handful of glittering dust particles out over the expectant crowd, Dark Star gently scatters into the air around us, each dust speck with its own comet trail streaming out behind. They all slowly begin to take alternate paths of flight as the music slowly builds in intention and direction. We veer into that quintessentially mid ’73 jazzy jamming and the music slowly topples in on itself only to spin and return with new colors and patterns extending off of each instrument. We eventually find ourselves in a fairytale garden of chimes and breezes, as breathtakingly gentle coming out of this monstrous sound system as the roaring press had been all consuming just a few songs prior. Now, we are lost in a quiet sea of mists as the first verse forms like a prophet out of thin air. Words are just sound fragments creeping out of the blanket of music around us. They give way, and the sounds settle down to the ground like impossible leaves of electric ivy. But the ground isn’t there and we appear lost in a vast and endless expanse of towering ribbons of music. They begin to twist and coil, talking in a language we can’t hope to absorb. This musical space increases in velocity, and the band is conjuring magic of untold secrets. There comes a massive low note out of Phil which shears off all but our most intimate layer of being. Moments later these sounds whisk out of existence and Jerry is shuffling into Eyes Of The World.

This Eyes is large. But there is never the sense of aimless noodling. Quite the contrary, as the song drives into its most extreme moments there is time and time again the sense that the music is being pushed out of its own skin – beat, harmony, and structure often lose purchase and venture briefly into pockets of chaos. This all happens without the song itself losing step anywhere. It’s more that the band is forcing itself to dare the entire world to implode, unafraid of the consequences, sure that the greater whole of the band will keep things together. The rapids boil and erupt everywhere, and the path of the river is lost, but the water rolls on and on. They slam in and out of the intricate 7/8 theme sections and race over shifting terrain. Eventually the music quiets featuring a trio of mostly Billy, Phil and Keith. Things idle for just a moment and then they rocket one last time back to the 7/8 theme which then launches another deep dive to the outer edges of the song structure. The music flies free and oozes between form and chaos beautifully. Garcia and Lesh are tipping to and fro, often following nearly incomprehensible paths. Finally, we work our way to Stella Blue.

A perfect landing for a big jam, Stella Blue and China Doll seemed to share this role throughout 1973. The crowd settles in, and the quiet reflective story unfolds. Again, the recording brings the musical panorama directly to the tip of our nose, and we sink in as Jerry croons, and plays soft lullaby colors.

Rocketing in the opposite direction, Sugar Magnolia and One More Saturday Night close out the show in a rocking and rolling frenzy. We are left exhausted, but equally ready to set the dial back to the parking lot and experience the show all over again – or perhaps just hang out with new friends until the show tomorrow night.

06/30/73 AUD etree source info
06/30/73 AUD Download


Related Post: The Ones That Get Away

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

1973 November 17 - Pauley Pavilion

Jerry Garcia 10/25/73
GRATEFUL DEAD
Saturday, November 17, 1973
Pauley Pavilion UCLA – Los Angeles, CA
Soundboard Recording


When I think back to some of the most pleasurable aspects of tape trading from back in the pre-high speed days, little compares to the anticipation of getting home to check the mailbox, coupled with finding it crammed with padded envelopes full of tapes. Opening the envelope, seeing what a trading partner may have included in the way of tape covers and extra info, setting up to taste test each tape for little 20 to 30 second listening samples to see what sound quality was going to be like – all of this stuff made up a lot of the personal joys in tape trading.

Deadbase IXAnother fond memory was the time spent pouring over my copy of Deadbase IX, reading over set lists and show reviews in an effort to figure out which shows I was going to go after in my next trade. Mostly, there are well worn, finger smudged page edges covering the 1973-1974 section of my Deadbase. I spent a lot of time there. I remember first landing upon the concept of the "Playin’ Sandwich" while reading some review, thinking about how cool it must be to hear the band slip from one song to another, and another, only to slip back in reverse order again. How cool must that be?! And the first sandwich I got my hands on was this classic from 11/17/73.

At the time, only a partial second set circulated. It was a one-tape-wonder picking up with its famous Playin’ sandwich: Playin’ > Uncle John’s Band > Morning Dew > Uncle John’s Band > Playin’. This is a classic Grateful Dead tape; another that most everyone would or will get their hands on eventually. And it lives up to all expectation, defining everything that was characteristically Dead in the closing portion of 1973.

Dropping right over the edge into the jam, Playin’ In The Band immediately finds itself in a liquid and flowing river of music. By late 1973, the Dead had mastered what we typically think of, or hear as, the 1973 sound. The loose and lazy jazz-like leanings of the Summer had given way to something more tight, and intricately driven. The band was sounding more in control, and at ease with all that 1973 brought to their playing style. Billy and Jerry personify these qualities together as we listen to the jam unfold. Things are hot, but not bristling with electricity. The impression is one of a river coursing quickly over boulders low enough in the waters not to create white caps or rapids across the surface. But the undercurrent’s speed is unavoidable. As the jam moves along, the river comes to fill not only the space below you, but all levels of perception – in nearly no time, the music fills all experience. Eyes shut tight, we corkscrew and coil through an endless landscape of swiftly breathing shapes and borders. When there is time to perceive the parts of the whole, you can’t help but be amazed at how closely the band is listening to one another. Phrases pass back and forth, volume swells and recedes, and all things demonstrate that the band is far less a five-piece, and more undeniably one single expressive force bound eternally together.

Grateful Dead 09/26/73The fluidity of how the band makes its decision to head toward Uncle John’s Band approaches the miraculous. So softly at first, then disappearing, then coming fully into view. Landing at the softly lapping riverside of Uncle John’s is heartwarming. As the song begins, you can barely believe it’s happening, coming out of the amazing segment beforehand. It makes it all the more enjoyable. UJB plays on, and is filled with that timeless presence so true of many Dead songs. There is a comfortable familiarity and joyfulness to the song. The music moves into the 7/8 time signature section, and again the fluidity returns as the river pulls you back in. Dropping slowly away, Morning Dew begins.

1973 Morning Dews are a luscious breed; so warm, and so tender at times. With this one, Jerry’s vocals are riveting. You feel like he’s singing out his tale with you sitting right at his feet – a sensation plentifully common throughout the Dead’s concert history. Again, there is a certain sense of safety and comfort playing out of the music. Garcia’s solo in the middle of the song is forcefully triumphant, matched toe to toe by Phil’s enormous thundering of notes. It is then particularly entrancing to hear them exit this section into the last verse, playing as softly as mist over mountains. The haunting beauty of Jerry’s final “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway” lines, followed by the intensely delicate build of the final solo are forever burned into my brain. There’s a single note where Jerry rides the volume knob just a bit. It penetrates to the bottom of my heart. Then the music floats and sparkles its way further and further along a path leading us higher and higher. As Morning Dew gives way, making a sharp turn back into Uncle John’s Band, the experience is breathtaking, good enough to offset the fact that we don’t reach the always appreciated climax of the song itself.

Uncle John’s returns and finishes off the vocals, cart wheeling almost immediately back into the deepest and most gooey rich sections of a Playin/Uncle John jam on the shoulders of Garcia’s wha wha pedal. The following section is pure 1973 satisfaction. Jerry’s notes cry out in expressive emotions, lifting the music into a swirling dance of inspiration. While there’s little denying that we are firmly fixed in a Playin’ jam, it is still as freeform and improvisational as you could imagine. Eventually energies being to explode and erupt around us, towering jets of musical power pushing to the edge of what we call music, hinting at complete meltdown, but never giving way. We are perfectly balanced between two phases of the Dead’s musical growth during this period. We can fully hear the lush and breezy playing style of 1973, layered over the mounting energy of crafty musicianship that would bend and turn at more mind numbing angles as 1974 took form – a great window into the band as it was ever evolving and pushing personal boundaries. Playin’ returns to cap off the sandwich perfectly, and we come away almost unable to believe it all just played out this way. Just wonderful.

Phil Lesh 10/25/73The entire show now circulates, and there is plenty to enjoy, including a great Eyes of the World with its swiftly swinging tempo and rich rolling jazzy explorations. But this date will forever be most famous for containing one of the best Playin’ sandwiches of its age. Whether you’re hearing it for the first time, or ready for a long overdue return visit, this is vintage Grateful Dead in top form.

There are a bunch of different sources floating around for this tape as well, and I’ve picked what I feel to be the most clean – not in the sense of sound quality (the SBD is A quality, and always has been), but more from the processing side. I’m not a big fan of tapes that are run through EQ and sound processing enhancements. That’s just me. So, rather than opting for a copy that has been enhanced in any way, I’m sticking old school here. Plenty of pure bliss to go around just as it is. Enjoy.

11/17/73 SBD etree source info

Saturday, October 4, 2008

1973 July 27 - Watkins Glen

1973 Watkins Glen

GRATEFUL DEAD
Friday, July 27, 1973
Grand Prix Racecourse – Watkins Glen, NY
Audience Recording


There are Grateful Dead tapes that often become guideposts in a collector’s journey into tape trading. For me there is no doubt that the 1973 Watkins Glen tapes were just that. The shows from 07/27 and 07/28/73 have played critical roles in my tape collecting life, from sparking my initial desire to trade heavily, to becoming my first, and easily my most effective ever, trade bait in generating inroads to the world of the “huge tapers” - guys with 3000 hours of music. Watkins Glen carves the deepest vein in the landscape of my tape collecting life, and can be seen touching more branches and tributaries in my tape collecting than most any other shows. So personal did these tapes become for me, that I’ve often worn the alias of “Glen Watkins” in online forums, cast upon me by friends who couldn’t help but poke friendly fun at this aspect of my obsession.

1973 Watkins Glen SantaStepping into my own personal Wayback Machine and setting the dials for the early 1990’s lands me squarely within a stone’s throw of the first time I ever heard the 07/27/73 Watkins Glen Soundcheck Jam. Oddly, unlike my many other experiences of hearing a passage of Grateful Dead music that would be forever burned into my soul, I can’t quite manage to call up the memory of the first moment I heard this tape. I find that somewhat strange, but in a way it leaves the sense that the music on this tape might have always been there, defying time and space, and thereby eluding the ability of a pinpoint landing when I look back. Given the powerful music at play, it doesn’t surprise me.

I do know that this was one of those five tapes that my good friend Fritz handed me after I got the sense that I needed to hear more of this band. Fritz was my Deadhead friend who had collected lots of tapes. He was the same fellow who *forgot* his tapes of 05/08/77 Cornell and 06/23/74 Miami in my car after our road trip up to The Mecca in Milwaukee during the Spring of 1989 to see the Dead. Almost by accident, this provided my very first steps down the road into Dead bootlegs. Looking back on that list of five tapes (he gave me 07/27/73, 03/24/73, 08/27/72, 12/06/73, and 02/24/74), I can only imagine the knowing smile that must have appeared on Fritz’s face as he left me with that pile of music. This was still some years before I actually started trading in earnest myself, so this music served more as deeply planted seeds and growing roots, than it did as beautiful flowers to pick from a garden – as Fritz is fond to say about certain shows he holds dear, these tapes did some “major imprinting” on my psyche. I listened to them a lot. They touched me at a deeper level because they weren’t commercial releases – there was no other way to come in contact with this music apart from knowing someone who had tapes. Up until this point I really thought that I could be fully satiated by whatever the then brand new Dick’s Picks series would offer up. That changed with this pile of tapes.

1973 Watkins Glen crowd at soundboardEventually immortalized commercially in the So Many Roads Box Set, the Watkins Jam is probably one of the most widely circulating Dead tapes of them all, not trailing too far behind the 05/08/77 Cornell tape. And while I will save the discussion around the way some of the most famous “best ever” Dead tapes reach such status simply because they happened to make it widely into trading circles in stellar sound quality, this particular 1973 tape is deserving of the highest honors. In this case, the music lives up to the historic accolades. This one really should be in everyone’s collection, and maybe that’s why it is.

Because I knew all too well that many seasoned tape traders would be stumbling upon this site early on, I had to resist coming out and touting the glory of this show right away, because to do so would understandably cast a suspicious eye on the touter’s tape cred. I would absolutely have been skeptical myself if I stumbled upon a blog like this, and found the first post centered around the Watkins Soundcheck. So heavily circulated is this show, I would have had to wonder if the person writing about it even had more than 10 tapes at all. So, I suppose getting to this now is all part of my grand plan. Not to mention, did you notice that this show date lands squarely in the middle of the period of 1973 I hold as the greatest ever? Neat, huh? Chances are that you’ve already heard this show, and the big jam therein. Chances are also that you haven’t heard it in a long long time. And even more so, perhaps you’ve never listened to the AUD. Now’s the time.

1973 Watkins Glen crowd dancing in mud and rainSo, what’s it all about? What’s the deal with this jam, anyway? The easiest way to describe it would be to say the Watkins Jam is one of the most prolonged musical satori experiences in all of Dead tape history. The band drops into the zone from the first notes, and remains there for a solid 21 minutes, all while allowing the music to change direction and color many times over. The jam demands repeated listening, as the opening spacey noodling only reveals its intricate connection to the rest of the jam after you hear where it leads, how it returns, and where it leads again. In the sections of the jam that are up tempo, there is the full embodiment of the 1973 Jazzy Dead jamming going on. Yet, there’s much more.

One of the coolest things about this jam is that it isn’t any of the classic 1973 jams at all. It isn’t a Playin’ jam. It isn’t Dark Star-ish; not Other One-ly. It isn’t even that wonderful Phil-inspired jazz jam that we only hear in 1973. Not only is it not any of those, it’s not any of those twice. There are two distinct jam sections in the Watkins Jam and both defy anything that was stereotypically 1973, the second one even more so than the first – Keith’s amazing lead off to the second jam always sends shivers up my spine. These jams embody the fluid acrobatic and lyrical dancing of Jerry Garcia’s playing style in 1973. And coupled with the rest of the band locking in and playing such intricately inspired counterpoint, it is easy to see how this jam somehow becomes one of the greatest musical events of the band’s entire existence. But, I’m not interested in starting up a debate around the best Grateful Dead show ever. What happens on this night is extremely unique. The themes in this jam never happened before, and amazingly, the band did not immediately work them into every show that followed.

1973 Watkins Glen Summer Jam - speaker towers in rainThe Watkins Soundcheck is made even more special for a number of reasons. This really was the sound check for the next day’s concert, not a scheduled show by any means. The set of music could have stopped at any time, although the band was clearly willing and interested in playing. They hadn’t played a concert since July 1st, and the setting was pretty grand. The fact that the big jam is so utterly unique unto itself also makes it so much more special, especially for any of us who have pretty much heard the complete canon of music from the entire year. It just defies everything.

And the jaw-dropping, spine tingling, continually expanding inspired flashes of musical oneness that go on and on and on, serve to fuse your heart to this music completely. The entire jam exhibits how this band could become five fingers on one hand. By the time they majestically angle into the quasi-Goin’ Down The Road Feelin’ Bad jam toward the end, you’re at a point where there is little else in existence beyond the bliss of the musical moment. Nothing beyond the Now has been going on for such a long time that as the psychedelic kaleidoscope of music forms into the carefree 1971-like romp of Goin’ Down The Road, it starts to boarder on more pleasure than one can take in. Yet the music is so heartfelt and so beautiful there is no worry of overload. This entire jam strums the strings of an instrument that is more than simply Rock music. In its ability to intertwine formless spacey improvisation into spiritually and physically uplifting move-your-body music, into a good old country-folksy-rocking homegrown underground Americana jam, this musical journey goes beyond. It transcends.

So, this soundboard recording has essentially always been in circulation. As I said, this tape typically turns up in every collection. It sounds fantastic. The entire set is a good time, Bird Song in particular is phenomenal. Phil’s repeated references to this being a test, being clever androids – it all lends to the fun. Then the big jam appears and burns away all fabric of reality, revealing the hidden truth of Grateful Dead music.

1973 Watkins Glen taperAs I’ve referenced a few time now, I was lucky enough to be trusted by older tapers via online forum and e-mail relationships. Bill Degen was one of the first older tapers I met online, and he warmly shared his music with me (Bill taped quite a few classics including 09/16/72, 11/30/73, 07/31/74, and even Watkins Glen 07/28/73). Bill sent me his reels (all of his masters were lost in a house fire), and on one reel B-side was the Watkins Glen Soundcheck from 07/27/73. I paid it absolutely no mind because I had it in some freshly circulating SBDMR lineage, and of course, everyone had that date already. Why even bother listening to a reel copy of Watkins from back in the 70’s? It couldn’t offer any form of an upgrade at this point.

Eventually I found myself checking out the reel more closely (probably while transfering whatever was on the A side) when I noticed that in the hand written set list for 07/27/73 the Me & My Uncle was listed. That was odd, because this tune was missing from the circulating SBD. So I queued it up, fast forwarding my way to where I could hear the Me & My Uncle. But I went too far, and ended up a few moment after the song, a few minutes into the classic Watkins Soundcheck Jam itself. But something was different. I landed right where Phil’s bass hits its long droning notes that completely over saturate the SBD, overdriving every other instrument right off the tape. But that wasn’t happening here. Phil’s bass was droning, but not driving the tape beyond its ability to capture the music accurately. Interesting.

1973 Watkins Glen - crowd at stageI listened a bit farther up to the point where the band kicks into the first true jam section, and I heard people in the crowd shouting and clapping at the transition. Now realize, at this point my ears understood what I was listening to as a SBD recording, one that was somehow alternately recorded as to have Phil at a different recording level. But the clapping and shouting were unmistakably the hallmarks of an audience tape, and in this case, one hell of an audience recording that sounded clear enough to mimic an old soundboard recording. I was already a good long way into my love of audience recordings by this point, so for me, this was a star aligning, synchronistic, “what did I do to deserve this?” moment. I had just stumbled upon an AUD of the Watkins Glen Soundcheck. An AUD?? Unheard of! I remember stopping the tape right then and there, not wanting to hear one minute more until I could arrange my listening experience into an optimal setting – this was all probably happening late some Tuesday evening after we had just gotten the kids to bed, etc.. and it wasn’t the right time to turn the stereo up to ten and melt into the music. I called my good friend Fritz and told him what I had found. A day or two later we had Fritz and his wife over for dinner, and somewhere between the main course and dessert Fritz and I made our way to my basement listening room and took the whole thing in together. Audience tape nirvana.

Right up to the taper getting busted by the gigantic roadie named “Tiny” as he screams into the mic, this a good five to seven minutes before the actual end of the jam. Somehow, this great taper bust being captured on tape in the middle of an amazing recording of one of the most amazing jams ever, made this tape even more special. I included this as filler on the first tape tree I even ran (The Watkins Glen 25th Anniversary Tape Tree), because I just had to share this amazing recording with anyone who would listen.

1973 Watkins Glen - crowd shotYears later, I was contacted by the actual taper of the Soundcheck (Bill’s reel copy of the date was not of his own recording. He didn’t arrive until the next day for the show proper) after he read my Watkins Glen story online somewhere. Man, the Internet is wonderful for that kind of thing. The taper, Jeff Siniawsky, hooked me up with his own master copies of both the 27th and 28th and I got them into circulation via the gdADT. But I’ll save the Siniawsky story for my review of 07/28 down the road.

More years later, again due to the Internet’s ability to connect us all, I was sent another audience recording of the soundcheck altogether – this time a stereo recording, not busted by Tiny, who was busy making trouble for Jeff. This new recording was even better than Jeff’s, yet of unknown lineage and taper. It beautifully feeds the mystery that exists even to this day of who was at Watkins and Roosevelt Stadium for both 07/31 and 08/01 always sitting way up front with this great recording rig. I’m still waiting for these masters to make their way out of the dusty past. They will, I’m sure.

It is this stereo recording, also seeded on the Audience Devotional Tree, that I want you to hear now. Frightfully clear and upfront, with incredible stereo separation of all instruments, this outdoor AUD recording easily battles for the top spot of best Dead AUD of 1973. The small amount of hiss speaks only to the fact that the mystery of this unknown taper still exists to this day. Worth noting here as well is the fact that these tapers went ahead and recorded on 07/27, when they had only come to record the next day. Realize that tapers had to prepare blank tape and battery supplies gauged to the event they were coming to tape. So, this was an unscheduled addition to the taping event, and they went for it. This without the aid of a 24/7 convenience store right across the street from the venue where they could restock on tape and batteries for the next day.

1973 Watkins Glen outhousesLiving in the shadow of the big jam, yet not to be forgotten from this date, is the sensational Bird Song. Easily one of the longest of the year, this version exudes a psychedelic energy that overtakes the audience and provides the first hints that far more than a friendly extended soundcheck is happening. Billy’s drumming is fantastic, coming at you as if played by more than one single person. It’s a perfect example of where the jazz elements of 1973 were anchored. Phil leaps from note to note, playing his own lead lines throughout. And Jerry’s leads emanate that glorious 1973 characteristic of a bird swopping out of tree canopied shadows into the crystal clear diamond sunlight above again and again. But here it all happens in prolonged slow motion, as if on the back of a giant bird with massive wingspan causing it to take more smooth extended arcs as it sings its triumphant song to the sky. Bird Song seems to have matured many times over while the band wasn’t playing shows in nearly a month’s time. The band seemed to be bursting with the desire to play back into the magic center of their own musical experience on 07/27/73.

So take some time and let yourself settle into this audience recording version of a true classic. It provides every gift we ever look for in an AUD recording, and breathtakingly launches you down an unforgettable journey of Grateful Dead greatness.

07/27/73 AUD etree source info
07/27/73 AUD Download

And if you're interested in hearing the Siniawsky AUD with the taper bust, it is here:

Friday, August 29, 2008

1973 July 1 - Universal Amphitheatre

Jerry Garcia - December 18, 1973

GRATEFUL DEAD
Sunday, July 1, 1973
Universal Amphitheatre – Universal City, CA
Audience Recording


I want to explore a bit more of my favorite portion of my favorite year. Here we will walk the path of one of the earliest 1973 AUDs I added to my collection. The sound quality of this AUD is among the best of the year – recently mastered beautifully by the Mouth Of The Beast team. If there is any knock against it, it is nothing more that the fact that Jerry’s guitar is high in the mix, a fault that no one can bemoan for long. The pure fidelity of the tape reflects just what you might expect from the team of Harvey Kaslow and Craig Todd, who also brought us the legendary 08/06/71 recording. You can luxuriate in this tape.

The middle of 1973 doesn’t get as much love as the more “historic” portions of the year near its end. I’ve explored the contradiction of the mass appeal to my personal preference for the summer shows in the "Getting Seriously Dead" post. So, I will refrain from hopping up on that soapbox again. However it bears mentioning that for the longest time there were scant few pristine soundboard recordings to be found of these summer shows, while November/December offered quite a good number a great sounding tapes. This no doubt impacted (and continues to impact) opinion. That’s just the way it goes. But the Summer shows are the hidden jewel of the year as far as I’m concerned.

This July 1st show in particular is the epitome of a relaxed Dead show as it gets started. It’s far more like we’ve arrived at the Grateful Dead’s house for an afternoon pool party, rather than a mid 70’s rock concert. The energy is mellow – thick with no expectations. As a result, the start of the show can be seen as coming off a little flat. But it’s no matter. The highlights of this show bring it to a level of complete classic 1973 Dead. That this is an AUD, and a darn good one at that, only serves to enshrine the show in my heart as a priceless piece of Summer ’73. This show sits in the shadows of other 1973 shows, and, as with so many others like it from any year, its being regularly overlooked somehow makes it all the more special.

Grateful Dead - July 31, 1973The first set contains a great China>Rider that you won’t want to miss. But it’s the second set that deservers our complete attention. On this night, Playin’ In The Band didn’t close set one. It opened set two. And it is a monstrously large portion of the very marrow found within the bones of 1973. There were a lot of great Playin’s before the summer of 1973, but the song evolved around this time, and perhaps even on this very night. Maybe it was because of the set two placement, but this Playin’ In The Band demonstrates a few characteristics that would follow the song all the way into 1974 - it is enormous (25 plus minutes); it winds its way utterly outside of the semblance of what you could call the song itself; and it finds Jerry hinting numerous times within the jam back at the song’s head long before actually wrapping the song up. These combined elements would follow the song from the Summer of ’73 for years.

The exploration starts off with a prolonged luscious section of jazz-infused jamming which features Jerry changes tone and inflection over and over again. Having Jerry’s guitar so directly in our face, we can fully discern each adjustment he makes in tone and volume. It’s like watching a painter adjust colors on his pallet before applying paint to canvas. Here, instead of the continual adjustments giving a sense of searching and frustration, Jerry is clearly feeling very very good. The jam’s energy grows and the band begins to spiral as if into tightly wound pinwheels of music. After a time things settle way down, and the Playin’ theme appears. Just as it gets pronounce acutely enough to start the crowd clapping in appreciation of a great jam ending, the rug slips out from under everything and we enter an even more slippery jam section of ever-blossoming colors and sounds. We’re hardly ten minutes in.

Eventually they wind through a more aggressive portion of the jam, each member stretching out in multi-directions. Then, as we are bathing in everything there is to love about mid-‘70’s Playin’s, the music frays away completely and we find ourselves in a corner of the universe quite a bit further away from Playin’ than we’d gone before. The music almost completely fractures leaving the focus on Jerry playing an ascending and repetitive five chord pattern over and over again that haunts your heart like some forest of ghosts mingled with a time-imploding ride in outer space. Playin’ is absolutely gone, and we’ve arrived at a destination together with the band that could never be traced back home. The sheer beauty of this place is its own assurance that it will not be found again – a secrete kept by the music itself. This is a measureless landscape of Space. Breathtaking. Gentle. Soul piercing.

From the absolute outer edges of this riveting passage, Jerry tosses the Playin’ theme back into the hall ever so lightly, and it coalesces the band right back into the jazz tinged jamming that so typified 1973. Now we’re following a path down million colored tree lined roads that float in ever-curving arches before our eyes - as if the landscape before us is undulating like a flag in a slow motion wind. That sense of tumbling over one’s step without fully falling is completely prevalent here. This goes on and on and on, over delivering everything known to be idyllic about the band in this year. Finally, the Playin’ theme is back again (for the third time?), and we amble slowly toward what seems to be the end portion of the song. But no. Jerry again drifts the theme out into the most delicate space before finally allowing it to truly return on the gentle breath of sunlight. We hit the song running, and you can’t help but know that this band is the master of their domain, utterly. No one can do what they do.

Later, after a well delivered Truckin’ stomps its way through an energetic post jam, the band hints at Other One before allowing Billy to take a brief drum solo. They come back into Other One proper and immediately the music is slipping deliciously back into that ever falling forward pace, pushed into curves and crevices by Garcia, who can’t seem to hit a bad note. This is textbook 1973 jamming, fluid and syncopated, rolling and spiraling. Along the way they decide to slip into the now well-honed jam that Phil has been nursing all year (something born to 1973 only). It overflows with groovy, jazzy psychedelia. This jam theme took until the late Spring of ‘73 to really pull together nicely. It is very satisfying. Then the Other One returns and the first verse is sung.

Out of the verse, the band tumbles into Space. Again unlike the Spaces later in the year, this is a spectacular chaos of noise and feedback wherein you can tell the band if fully engaged, really working the sound into the fabric of the experience. This is no Space for Space’s sake plopped into a show for effect. They let the noise take on a life of its own, morphing into indescribable, ever-shifting visions. The world forms and reforms before you like a fireball explosion undulating and spreading massive flamed branches and roots in all directions. The Space cools and empties out into an endlessly wide vision of sound patterns. There seem to be light years of space between the individual sounds coming off the stage. Under Jerry’s crooning, lamenting notes, Phil is fluttering against his strings, bubbling as if from just below a still, glass perfect sea. He gurgles and sputters in such a way that leaves you incapable of knowing if it’s him, or your mind playing tricks with the sound. There’s a spiritual majesty to this section – a hush; a calm. It whispers. Its energy has so completely overtaken the musical path, there’s no going back to Other One. Wharf Rat was born for this transition. It picks you up like a shipwrecked survivor who has come to the shore with the tide.

Bob Weir - September 26, 1973Within Wharf Rat, Jerry’s solo is forever etched into my mind because of his guitar’s unmistakable mimicking of a sitar. The strength of the sound rings like bells and resonates electricity for miles and miles as the solo goes on. You hear him turn up, and then up again. It’s fleeting, yet tremendous and not quite duplicated ever again.

Out of this solo, Me & Bobby McGee appears like a sudden shift in the weather. It doesn’t matter whether you think a cowboy song has a place here or not. What’s to be cherished is Jerry’s solo work. He remains quite locked into the precious Wharf Rat moaning as Bob sings. As he enters the true solo after the first chorus you can’t help but completely sink into his tone again. He threads notes and runs together as if they are sacred prayers that could never be expressed in words. It all comes off as effortless – something that often exemplifies Jerry at his most tuned in moments. The song wraps up the wonderful set two jam – Truckin’ > Drums > Other One > Space > Wharf Rat > Bobby McGee. Wow.

Everyone has a Dead song or two that they don’t really need to hear again. For me it’s those ’73-74 Sugar Magnolias. For others, no doubt, it is Casey Jones. Not me. I dig this tune, and in 1973 it just had a wonderful bounce to it. The set ends with Casey Jones, and the show is feeling very mellow again. It’s the send off for the past three day run at the Universal Amphitheatre, and it completely feels like a friend hugging you goodbye. The Dead were about to mount some of the greatest concert work of their career in the upcoming three show run on the East Coast. But that’s a story for another review…

07/01/73 AUD etree source info

Sunday, May 25, 2008

1973 June 26 - Seattle Center Arena

Bob Weir September 26, 1973

GRATEFUL DEAD
Tuesday, June 26, 1973
Seattle Center Arena – Seattle, WA
Audience Recording

Along with 06/22/73, the other Don Amick recording I had the pleasure of bringing into digital circulation some years ago was 06/26/73 Seattle. After going years with a cassette copy of the show that was in the “B” range of quality due to generational hiss and tape speed issues, coming into contact with a true reel-2 copy of Don’s recording was a dream come true. The tape was not without its share of challenging tape cuts that needed editing, but the overall sound experience is near that of Don’s 6/22, and certainly outdoes the SBD for overall enjoyment. The soundboard of this show falls short for a number of reasons: hiss, bad mix, technical woes, etc.. The way to really connect here is through the AUD.

I will say that enjoying this AUD will be aided by some ear acclimation time. Similar to an AUD from 1970, you would do better to take the show in as a whole as much as you can. Dropping in on a particular highlight will come without your ear having had time to get used to things. I experienced this myself when getting ready to review the tape after not hearing it for years. I dropped in right on the Playin’ and I was struck by some of the harder aspects of the recording. Afterward, I went back and started from the top of the show, and after a song or two I was able to appreciate the distinct highpoints of the AUD – nice separation, clear high hat and vocals, sweet bass. It then allowed me to be completely in a place to fully enjoy the bigger jams of the show without distraction. I’d say you need a good 15 minutes with any AUD to fully acclimate. If you’re dying to check out the Other One, start with the Truckin’ and let the AUD grow on you from there.

06/26/73 has an ideal set list for me. A show opening Casey Jones (a rare treat to open a 1973 show) is delivered in a rather subdued fashion. But it has such an inviting characteristic to it in the way it bounces around. Its carefree and understated delivery make for a special level of enjoyment – different than the hard driving versions that more typically close a set. It makes me wonder what a Sugar Magnolia might have sounded like placed somewhere other than the end of set two (always). Casey Jones segues into Greatest Story Ever Told, and with that the energy skyrockets. It’s one lovely song after another here, Brown Eyed Women, Jack Straw, Box Of Rain. Yes yes yes. All of them give off a really relaxed pleasure. While it is often a tendency to look at 1973 first sets as less than interesting and lacking energy, this show is a fantastic listen – not because the songs have more amazing energy than you would expect, not even because Jerry is doing things with his leads that are beyond the norm. This show just has a perfect balance of mellow 1973-ness and focused song delivery. The band is engaged in a way they would sometimes not be in other shows from the year.

Jerry and Bob - October 19, 1973The first set goes on forever, tucking a great Cumberland Blues (only 7 of them in all of 1973) and China>Rider still two songs ahead of the eventual set closing Playin’ In The Band. After all of this fantastically Dead-flavored first set music, Playin’ In The Band brings with it a nice jam that allows the band to flex its psychedelic muscle a bit. Early on it finds Jerry opening up to lots of empty passages. He lets non-playing fill between his leads, where the band grooves along. It’s a nice punctuation. Slowly the energy mounts. Jerry rolls all around his pallet of sound colors. You can hear him going from pick up to pick up, changing volume and tone, turning on and off the wha-wha pedal, searching for the right voice. This provides a lot of wonderful intricacy to his solo. However, it is more likely that he is somewhat frustrated with his sound, searching for a place he can settle in and just play. After a bit more of this he seems to strike a good combination and flows back into more lead lines that fire off, then go silent, allowing the emptiness to punctuate the phrases he leaves in the air. He’s like a painter stabbing brush to canvas, then stepping back, then stabbing again. The song wraps up and ends shorter than most Playin’s of the year. It’s just a hint of what the second set will bring.

The second set opens with a Bertha>Promised Land that feels great. The show settles right back into the pre-Playin’ groove of set one – great songs delivered within a focused mellow energy. Then there’s the tape flip shortened Drums that explodes into one of the best Other Ones of the year. Words seem ill equipped to define just what made the Summer of 1973 so unique from the other parts of the year. This Other One does not suffer from that same challenge. It is the pure embodiment of what makes this period so wonderful. The band is a cauldron of power through this opening section of the song. Yet it all feels very lyrical and warm at the same time, another characteristic of the Summer shows.

The audience recording quality here is hypnotic. Phil’s bass is exuding its tone in ways no soundboard tape could ever hope to portray. Bobby is very upfront in the entire recording, while not overbearing, and it allows us to completely appreciate his full spectrum of tone as well, let alone his deft playing style. Billy’s cymbals and snare glimmer. Keith’s keyboard work is right in your face. And Jerry glows over everything happening around him. You are able to sit back and let 1973 wash all over you. After more than six minutes the band’s every circling flower petals of multi-colors seem to close up for the approach of night, and they slip into Me & Bobby McGee.

You know, I’m a big fan of the “Jam>Cowboy Tune>Jam” song structure that the Dead exploited. And, here we find a lovely Bobby McGee tucked inside this Other One. But, maybe it’s because this Other One is so completely what I love about the June ’73 shows, I feel somewhat wrenched away from the Other One with this transition. I just never want that Other One to end. Interestingly, Phil drops out almost entirely, and when he does play, he has stopped playing anything below about the 5th fret. This lends the proceedings to be even more distinct from the Other One that came before. Somehow the entire sound spectrum has been sucked down to two or three colors, where moments ago it was topping three hundred. All in all it ends up being an expert move, because when the band exist back into the Other One, it’s like we’ve just passed through the eye of a hurricane. We’re whisked back into the frenzy, and it leaves a deliciously psychedelic aftertaste to the Bobby McGee (did that just happen?).

For the next seven to eight minutes things are even better than they were before the Bobby McGee. The multi-colored flower is opened wide again and there are as many colors as there are petals on a chrysanthemum. It’s one more fantastic twist and turn after another. Phil is back to reaching low on the fret board. Keith pulls off a solo section that shows that there really was an extremely talented keyboard player in the band. The band displays an impeccable ability to listen to each other and build off of the phrases that each is playing. Jerry’s playing again is fuelled by the expression of licks and phrases that are punctuated by pauses. He ties them together so artfully, holding off on a note that you can anticipate after a phrase until a perfectly syncopated moment a few beats later. As his lead runs move higher up the neck of the guitar, it gives off a feeling of running up a flight of stairs, leaping at times over two or three steps as he goes. The cauldron of power is starting to boil over the sides, and gone are the relaxed jazzy leanings. This is something pure Grateful Dead now. The first verse forms. It comes and goes. From here we drop off into a simply sensational feedback driven space that could be one of the most overlooked of the year.

Amick’s tape has a bunch of trouble over this passage, and it took some daunting effort at the sonic workbench to clean it up. I don’t generally mention my own digitizing efforts, but I recall this one as particularly draining. Plus because of the numerous cuts, I spent the hours getting through it anticipating my own finally being able to hear this Space in as un-mutilated a fashion as possible. Before this editing, the cuts came at you like a hammer to the head, over and over. Seven incidents of apparent pause button tapping later (09:58, 10:12, 11:43, 11:46, 11:50, 11:55, 12:38), and the Space was allowed to flow in almost complete non-distraction. I used to be able to count these edits as the final product passed my ear. Now, years later, that ability is blissfully gone, and I just melt into the multidimensional sound explosion that refuses to allow one to find footing at any angle. It’s a brain crippling ride, itself several minutes long. The band is relentless, while not utterly cacophonous, layering tone, noise, and feedback that strip away you ability to experience anything else. And when it finally ebbs away and places you at the start of Sugar Magnolia, you can’t help but shake your head to reset your balance. The set closer grounds us nicely, necessary after such a deep and twisted exploration, and we can feel our physical bodies again, bopping around and clapping to the music.

Summer 1973. Worth every moment.

06/26/73 AUD etree source info
06/26/73 AUD download

Audience Devotional Tree Round 14 – January, 2003

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