THE GRATEFUL DEAD, LIFE AND JOY
It is very odd that consciousness presents so many obstacles for so many human beings. Why are there so many problems and why does life appear to burden so many of the vehicles in which it is carried? Gloom and war, frustration and destruction.
Discover a falling leaf. Feel the softness of the earth and see the sun glance through the mist to pour itself on a hillside. Hear nature's welcome in the wind. Find the joy in your being; perception is simple and beautiful.
In the thick of our little street war here, the Grateful Dead released a third album. It has eight songs, and lasts thirty-eight minutes in time. They've titled it Aoxomoxa, and once again perception is simple and beautiful.
This is a mildly surprising collection of music, essentially because it is so mellowed. The tunes are soft and gentle, the lyrics graciously decipherable, the vocals hesitant and wavering. There is a remarkable lack of harshly inflected rhythms and scalding guitar, for which the Dead have been so justly famed.
Instead, Axoxomoxa is a wider application of the ideas we saw in Anthem of The Sun: long, dreamy ballads, occasionally interspersed with rock passages, but more often content to float their own ethereal way. Very different, a bit sadly, from the driving power of the first album.
But this third one is a delight. It's filled with surreal (What's Become Of The Baby) and romantic visions (Mountains Of The Moon), rural whimsy and funk, and some great old blues (Dupree's Diamond Blues and Cosmic Charlie).
Somehow, the Grateful Dead have done the impossible. They've kept their standards in the face of white-hot pressures to change. Not only have they remained an intact musical unit, they've improved their skills and sharpened and adjusted their technique, all of which indicates that they have retained their sanity. I find that pretty amazing.
Heavily in debt, much of it from back taxes, seeing their community fall down around them, the Dead have willingly and happily played innumerable benefits and free concerts in the park (Golden Gate), because they love the music.
When a human being takes this course of action, when he faces and withstands the demands to mold himself to the social main-current, concentrating only on the realization of his constructive ideas, you call him by one word: artist.
The Dead are artists. They've ignored packaging trends, preferring to wrap their albums simply, without folding covers and other little goodies. They've made no media appearances, save for three, which I can remember: a KPIX special on the Haight, some two years ago; an Irving Penn photographic essay, titled "The Incredibles," in Look; and about 10 seconds on a CBS documentary of Bill Graham. The Grateful Dead are considered, very simply, poor commercial material and a sight from which the eyes of America's children must somehow be shielded.
How sad.
Listen to Jerry sing Robert Hunter's lyrics to "St. Stephen."
"Saint Stephen, with a rose, in and out of the garden he goes.
Country garden in the wind and the rain, wherever he goes,
The people all complain.
Stephen prospered in his time,
Well he may, and he may be kind
Did it matter? Does it now?
Stephen would answer if he only knew how."
YEEEEEHHAAAA! Enter the guitars, in high-pitched vocal outbursts, tumble the percussion. Mick's bizarre technique (far out and ecstatic) intersects Bill's, the band is delirious with harnessed fire, Phil's bass line insane and cohesive. This is a song of mountain light and city heavy contrasts, played with perfect restraint and control.
"Cosmic Charlie" is almost the vehicle it could be for Jerry's riff playing. The cut is well-directed and the statements drive hard but easily. Still, the fever of the early Dead has gone down a bit, and one wishes for a few decibels more (one gets it live).
It's no use trying to alter a classic statement of existence. The Good Old Grateful Dead will always be just that.
(by Raymond Lang, from the Daily Californian, May 29, 1969)
See also Lang's reviews of Anthem of the Sun and Live/Dead
More Aoxomoxoa reviews:
Another review from Lang, who by now is even more smitten with the Dead's charms than he was in 1968. Back when he heard Anthem, he was disappointed that it didn't have enough hard rock; now he welcomes the mellow, "soft and gentle" tunes of Aoxomoxoa. He misses the "driving power" and "fever" of their first album, but now he seems to regard the new Dead as comfort music, an escape from the harsh world into the peaceful harmony of nature. (Though he still "wishes for a few decibels more," he goes to the live shows for that.)
ReplyDeleteIt's also interesting to see how he regards their survival - he's surprised they're still together, keeping their standards and their sanity, still helping the community despite their debt, staying out of the mainstream and focused on improving their art. The change of direction on Aoxomoxoa doesn't faze him - he even sees it as a natural continuation of the "long, dreamy ballads" and ethereal feeling of Anthem.
Lang was the regular music reviewer for the Daily Californian in 1969 (he left in Feb 1970, so didn't review any albums after Live/Dead). The Dead got occasional mentions in other articles of his - for instance in announcing the Wild West Festival in the 7/25/69 issue: "The Dead have always managed to survive against overwhelming odds, and they'll be performing at The Wild West in August."
He raved about the It's A Beautiful Day album (7/3/69 issue): "I haven't been so excited since the first night I walked into the Fillmore Auditorium, eyes agape, and saw the Grateful Dead. Wow, farout, outasite, jump up and down, orange blue and green vibrational energy trails, applause, gratitude."
In the 10/30/69 issue, he mentions that Jefferson Airplane are releasing a new album, Volunteers: "Jerry Garcia seems to think it's the best thing they've done yet. The Dead, themselves, have their fourth record together and we should see that within two weeks." (He'd gush over Live/Dead in a January review.)
One of his last reviews was of Volunteers (2/5/70 issue), which he gave a page of heartfelt praise: "I love this band. Always did, way too much. They grabbed me by the throat and never really let go... The record has shaken me to tears three times now." Though he has reservations about the sincerity of 'The Farm,' "Jerry Garcia's pedal steel guitar is just fine. Jerry's always easy to believe, thank god. I'm glad someone still is."