HEADLINES [excerpt]
Stevie "Guitar" Miller - what a flash you are. Not only do you blow us out at the Crater Celebration but at the Civic too. With his new group; addition of Jimmy Miller, Steve's younger brother on rhythm guitar. Steve told me, "Jimmy plays better than I do." Well, I won't go as far to agree with him, but it sure added the much needed full sound the Miller band had been lacking since the Boz Scaggs left the group many moons ago. I've always loved the Miller Band no matter what they did, but with the addition of Jimmy, live performances can now sound more like the albums.
As far as Steve's very short hair-cut: "I got tired of long hair, it gets to be a hassle, so I cut it every few years." Then a little later Steve says, "Actually, I tried to give myself a trim and blew it." With or without the hair, Steve Miller is one of the finest performers in rock today. When his latest album comes out this July, run down and buy it because this is the year for the Steve Miller Band.
Also on that Civic bill, Quicksilver Messenger Service putting across one of the tightest sets we've heard. Quicksilver has made Hawaii its home for the last month and a half, making music for their new album. They have been living and working in a country house six miles into the cane fields of Haleiwa. Not only did they record one album but have created enough material for two and a half albums...now that's creativity! One comment that's been made before but should again be brought out is Dino Valente. He sticks out on stage like a sore thumb. It seems to me if he continues to dominate the stage, the group should change their name to "Dino Valente with Quicksilver." Why don't David Freiberg and Gary Duncan sing more? Dino has a nice voice but Gary's at least, if not David's, is just as good. Why not, for the sake of the group, be part of Quicksilver rather than being Dino (which by the way isn't his real name). I have always liked Q.M.S., but seeing Dino trying to take over the already great group turns me, as well as most of the Q.M.S. fans, off.
We hear Nickey Hopkins has left the group, we can only hope this is temporary because when Nickey plays things like "Edward (Mad Shirt Grinder)" with Q.M.S., it's one of the best highs we've ever felt in music. Nickey received a standing ovation for that piece of art...he modestly accepted the cheers... Now that's a person Dino Valente could learn from.
I missed the Grateful Dead...unfortunately...but judging from their new album "Workingman's Dead," which is the Dead's best recording effort to date, I bet the set was a gas.
Side note: Noah's Arc Lighting did the finest light show we've seen in the Islands, keep it up!
(by Ken Rosene, from the Honolulu Advertiser, 22 June 1970)
*
'HORSE' HAS ITS MERITS [excerpt]
The opportunity to see top-rate talent here in Honolulu is fast approaching the level of San Francisco and New York. In the past and in the upcoming two weeks, about two or three dozen of the finest talent in the country have played or will play here, and that may explain in part a growing (?) insouciance. We're getting ho-hum blase and so Quicksilver and Steve Miller and the Dead with New Riders of the Purple Sage can't even fill the Civic.
Riders are pure country and good. They have Jerry Garcia playing pedal steel guitar and he's the best part of them.
Steve Miller's set, excepting a shaky start to "My Dark Hour," was great and the band, now with brother Jerry Miller, sounds bigger and better than ever. If anything, the set was too short.
(by Steve Moore, from the Honolulu Advertiser, 22 June 1970)
Thanks to Jesse Jarnow.
https://archive.org/details/gd70-06-13.sbd.hanno.9079.sbefail.shnf
& Quicksilver's set has been released as "Hawaii 1970": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpLiMY8fALg
Jun 5, 2020
September 26, 1970: Terrace Ballroom, Salt Lake City, UT
GRATEFUL DEAD IS SCHEDULED SATURDAY AT TERRACE HALL
The San Francisco rock group, the Grateful Dead, will appear Saturday in the Terrace Ballroom.
The Grateful Dead performs what has been labeled "underground or heavy rock music" and will perform entirely alone, with no supporting acts.
The group has not only left its mark in music but has become associated with the attitudes and attempts at change made by today's contemporary youth. Impromptu concerts in Federal Court in San Francisco and the articles in national magazines catapulted the Grateful Dead to national notice.
Content among their fans in the Bay Area, road trips for the group have been rare in the last few years, so the Salt Lake appearance is expected to generate interest among "heavy rock" fans.
(from the Salt Lake Tribune, 21 September 1970)
* * *
THE GRATEFUL DEAD LIVED WELL AT THE TERRACE
Three hours of very live Dead. That's what it was at The Terrace Sept. 26 when The Grateful Dead, "San Francisco's first family of fine music," showed some three thousand enthusiastic fans what has kept them on top of the San Francisco music scene.
Performing by themselves, the Dead pulled the audience together into a foot-stomping, hand-clapping, whistling fan club.
The show was divided into two long sets, one acoustic and one electric, each about an hour and twenty minutes of nonstop sound.
Captain Trips, also known as Jerry Garcia, led the band through the first set with his vocals and excellent guitar work. This in spite of hassles with the soundman as to who gets his mike turned on and how loud. (As can be expected when no warm-up group is used.)
It took a while for the crowd to get into the music, but by the time the Dead were halfway through, we knew we were in for a real treat. And by the time the Dead got into "Uncle John's Band" it was standing and shouting time.
That song has to rate as one of the real good ones of this or any year, and the album it is taken from, "Workingman's Dead," is probably their best effort to date.
"Uncle John" ended the soft set in great style, and when they broke out the electricity for the second set there wasn't much sitting down to do.
Using two drummers - something very very difficult to pull off well - to great effect, the Dead went into their own stuff and outstanding arrangements of Tim Rose's "Morning Dew," the Stones' "Not Fade Away," and the often-recorded "Dancing in the Streets." All were punctuated by Garcia's excellent guitar licks and fine work by both drummers.
At this point I guess I should point out the bad spots of what was mostly a first-rate show. First the Dead, themselves, are pros, real pros. And it showed all night. But neither the songs nor the musicians were introduced.
Now this might seem like cutting things too close, but when a band changes players as often as The Grateful Dead it would be nice to let the audience know who is playing. This also tends to run things together until you get a Santana-like effect of not knowing when one song ends and the other begins.
Secondly, The Terrace caught the Salt Palace fire code bug and was tossing people out for lighting up inside. The ushers were dressed in their red Smothers Brothers coats and acting like the Royal Canadian Mounties spying around for an illicit red glow in the crowd.
This is particularly upsetting when The Terrace is advertised as a place where people can get together, sit on the floor, move around, and rap with friends and smoke if one has a mind to. I think the duplicity here deserves some explanation, especially to the folks who got the hook before a warning was issued.
But I don't want this to sound negative, because it was a night of positive things. Positively a great band, an audience very into the music, and an ovation that shook the place, redcoats or not.
Those that missed it really missed it, and those of us that made it will have a tough time getting up over the next band coming through. Not just anyone can follow an act like that.
It was a good night. Long Live the Dead!
NOTE: For those interested, Jerry Garcia's guitar work can be found on It's a Beautiful Day's "Marrying Maiden" and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's "Deja Vu."
(by David Proctor, "In" Music Writer, from the Salt Lake Tribune, 2 October 1970)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to Dave Davis.
For the aftermath at the Terrace, see:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2018/06/the-dead-in-daily-utah-chronicle-1967.html
The San Francisco rock group, the Grateful Dead, will appear Saturday in the Terrace Ballroom.
The Grateful Dead performs what has been labeled "underground or heavy rock music" and will perform entirely alone, with no supporting acts.
The group has not only left its mark in music but has become associated with the attitudes and attempts at change made by today's contemporary youth. Impromptu concerts in Federal Court in San Francisco and the articles in national magazines catapulted the Grateful Dead to national notice.
Content among their fans in the Bay Area, road trips for the group have been rare in the last few years, so the Salt Lake appearance is expected to generate interest among "heavy rock" fans.
(from the Salt Lake Tribune, 21 September 1970)
* * *
THE GRATEFUL DEAD LIVED WELL AT THE TERRACE
Three hours of very live Dead. That's what it was at The Terrace Sept. 26 when The Grateful Dead, "San Francisco's first family of fine music," showed some three thousand enthusiastic fans what has kept them on top of the San Francisco music scene.
Performing by themselves, the Dead pulled the audience together into a foot-stomping, hand-clapping, whistling fan club.
The show was divided into two long sets, one acoustic and one electric, each about an hour and twenty minutes of nonstop sound.
Captain Trips, also known as Jerry Garcia, led the band through the first set with his vocals and excellent guitar work. This in spite of hassles with the soundman as to who gets his mike turned on and how loud. (As can be expected when no warm-up group is used.)
It took a while for the crowd to get into the music, but by the time the Dead were halfway through, we knew we were in for a real treat. And by the time the Dead got into "Uncle John's Band" it was standing and shouting time.
That song has to rate as one of the real good ones of this or any year, and the album it is taken from, "Workingman's Dead," is probably their best effort to date.
"Uncle John" ended the soft set in great style, and when they broke out the electricity for the second set there wasn't much sitting down to do.
Using two drummers - something very very difficult to pull off well - to great effect, the Dead went into their own stuff and outstanding arrangements of Tim Rose's "Morning Dew," the Stones' "Not Fade Away," and the often-recorded "Dancing in the Streets." All were punctuated by Garcia's excellent guitar licks and fine work by both drummers.
At this point I guess I should point out the bad spots of what was mostly a first-rate show. First the Dead, themselves, are pros, real pros. And it showed all night. But neither the songs nor the musicians were introduced.
Now this might seem like cutting things too close, but when a band changes players as often as The Grateful Dead it would be nice to let the audience know who is playing. This also tends to run things together until you get a Santana-like effect of not knowing when one song ends and the other begins.
Secondly, The Terrace caught the Salt Palace fire code bug and was tossing people out for lighting up inside. The ushers were dressed in their red Smothers Brothers coats and acting like the Royal Canadian Mounties spying around for an illicit red glow in the crowd.
This is particularly upsetting when The Terrace is advertised as a place where people can get together, sit on the floor, move around, and rap with friends and smoke if one has a mind to. I think the duplicity here deserves some explanation, especially to the folks who got the hook before a warning was issued.
But I don't want this to sound negative, because it was a night of positive things. Positively a great band, an audience very into the music, and an ovation that shook the place, redcoats or not.
Those that missed it really missed it, and those of us that made it will have a tough time getting up over the next band coming through. Not just anyone can follow an act like that.
It was a good night. Long Live the Dead!
NOTE: For those interested, Jerry Garcia's guitar work can be found on It's a Beautiful Day's "Marrying Maiden" and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's "Deja Vu."
(by David Proctor, "In" Music Writer, from the Salt Lake Tribune, 2 October 1970)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to Dave Davis.
For the aftermath at the Terrace, see:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2018/06/the-dead-in-daily-utah-chronicle-1967.html
Jun 4, 2020
December 22, 1970: Memorial Auditorium, Sacramento CA
GRATEFUL DEAD CHEERED
"An Evening With the Grateful Dead" may be remembered long and lovingly by the 4,700-plus fans who turned up, then turned on last night in Sacramento's Memorial Auditorium.
They screamed, clapped, stood, stomped, and - during quieter passages - chattered through five hours of excellent rock music by the Dead and by a far-from-dead offshoot of this really viable Marin County morgue, the "New Riders of the Purple Sage."
Most of that teeming, teenish throng stayed to hear the concert end with a literal bang - someone popped a small powder charge onstage during the final chord - just minutes before 1 o'clock this morning.
And, watching the sleep-staring remnants of the crowd as its members contentedly filtered home, many with glazed eyes and near-zombie walks, it came in a flash just who the real grateful dead might be.
The onstage Grateful Dead - two sets of drums; lead, rhythm, and bass guitar, and organ - has a mellowness to its total sound that is surprising in view of its authentic Fillmore-psychedelic origins.
The psychedelia is still there in much of GD's material, but there is less treble, more bass to the sound. And there are heavy excursions into country, western, and flat-out funk.
The crowd dug it all but expended its writhing, jiving energy on the faster, heavy-beat stuff. Under the Dead's tutelage, the audience became a seventh instrument - now lured into a rhythmic frenzy, now calmed by a quieter passage, now stirred to a renewed outburst by some repeated, increasingly insistent musical phrase or other.
The New Riders of the Purple Sage, which opened the evening, is a Grateful Dead offshoot that features the parent group's own talented lead guitarist, Jerry Garcia, on steel guitar.
Augmented by lead, rhythm and bass guitar and a single set of drums, the NRPS group lays down what sounds like nothing short of the newer acoustic trend in rock - except that the guitars, though toned down somewhat, are decidedly electronic. The result is, again, the kind of mellowness that calls the Grateful Dead's own sound to mind.
NRPS's music trip concentrates on the country-western idiom in rock, with heavier emphasis on the country than on the western. Garcia's steel guitar - now soaring, now singing, now sounding like a down-home fiddle - catalyzes the total sound and helps put NRPS across as an excellent, solidly put together group.
It drew the connoisseur's kind of applause - slow-starting, swelling with recognition, finally giving way to the cheers of the converted.
There were no reserved seats for this concert - an unusual feature in the cavernous auditorium where "good" seats are at a premium. Although this led to some "shoehorning" in choice rows and now and then some crowded aisles, there were no observable hassles over seats. The crowd was there for excitement, but from the stage, not the arena.
(by John Hurst, from the Sacramento Bee, 23 December 1970)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to JGMF.
"An Evening With the Grateful Dead" may be remembered long and lovingly by the 4,700-plus fans who turned up, then turned on last night in Sacramento's Memorial Auditorium.
They screamed, clapped, stood, stomped, and - during quieter passages - chattered through five hours of excellent rock music by the Dead and by a far-from-dead offshoot of this really viable Marin County morgue, the "New Riders of the Purple Sage."
Most of that teeming, teenish throng stayed to hear the concert end with a literal bang - someone popped a small powder charge onstage during the final chord - just minutes before 1 o'clock this morning.
And, watching the sleep-staring remnants of the crowd as its members contentedly filtered home, many with glazed eyes and near-zombie walks, it came in a flash just who the real grateful dead might be.
The onstage Grateful Dead - two sets of drums; lead, rhythm, and bass guitar, and organ - has a mellowness to its total sound that is surprising in view of its authentic Fillmore-psychedelic origins.
The psychedelia is still there in much of GD's material, but there is less treble, more bass to the sound. And there are heavy excursions into country, western, and flat-out funk.
The crowd dug it all but expended its writhing, jiving energy on the faster, heavy-beat stuff. Under the Dead's tutelage, the audience became a seventh instrument - now lured into a rhythmic frenzy, now calmed by a quieter passage, now stirred to a renewed outburst by some repeated, increasingly insistent musical phrase or other.
The New Riders of the Purple Sage, which opened the evening, is a Grateful Dead offshoot that features the parent group's own talented lead guitarist, Jerry Garcia, on steel guitar.
Augmented by lead, rhythm and bass guitar and a single set of drums, the NRPS group lays down what sounds like nothing short of the newer acoustic trend in rock - except that the guitars, though toned down somewhat, are decidedly electronic. The result is, again, the kind of mellowness that calls the Grateful Dead's own sound to mind.
NRPS's music trip concentrates on the country-western idiom in rock, with heavier emphasis on the country than on the western. Garcia's steel guitar - now soaring, now singing, now sounding like a down-home fiddle - catalyzes the total sound and helps put NRPS across as an excellent, solidly put together group.
It drew the connoisseur's kind of applause - slow-starting, swelling with recognition, finally giving way to the cheers of the converted.
There were no reserved seats for this concert - an unusual feature in the cavernous auditorium where "good" seats are at a premium. Although this led to some "shoehorning" in choice rows and now and then some crowded aisles, there were no observable hassles over seats. The crowd was there for excitement, but from the stage, not the arena.
(by John Hurst, from the Sacramento Bee, 23 December 1970)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to JGMF.
May 22, 2020
April 3, 1970: Fieldhouse, University of Cincinnati, OH
GRATEFUL DEAD
Last Friday The Grateful Dead presented a concert at the University of Cincinnati, and I doubt whether the Fieldhouse will ever be the same. The good feelings that hung in the air, the aroma of little cigarettes (I wonder what they could have been?), the vibrancy of the music, must certainly have caused a change in the molecular structure of the place.
The concert brought together various groups that helped to make the evening a good one. The Hog Farm was there, handling the technical aspects. One of the best things about the show was a spectacular and genuinely mind-opening light show, certainly the best I've ever seen. It used film, design and light to great advantage.
The story of the evening, however, was music. The first group to appear was the Lemon Pipers, a solid local band that did some blues-influenced rock. Good instrumentalists (except for the drummer who was monotonously heavy and not up to some of the tempos), the group started strongly and then got bogged down in some slow things that made their set run out of gas rather quickly.
The second group was Devil's Kitchen from Illinois. Ironically, they weren't very good instrumentally, and their singer is woefully bad, but they have a very fast drummer that kicks them into sounding like a pretty good band.
I should point out, however, that everyone knew that the bands were there just to warm-up the audience for the Dead. As such, they did their job well and were politely received by the happy audience.
After Devil's Kitchen left, there were the usual open-mike ramblings and then someone put on some Santana tapes. People wandered around, shaking to "Jingo," and then, "From San Francisco, here they are, the Grateful Dead!"
There they were, the two drummers, Pig Pen, Jerry Garcia, the works! There is no doubt about it, The Grateful Dead are one of the finest rock bands around. They played one of the longest and most exciting sets of rock I've ever heard. Some of the highlights: a long and friendly acoustic segment with a good version of "Wake Up Little Suzy," a crowd pleasing version of Bobby Bland's "Turn On Your Love Light" featuring a great solo by Garcia on guitar and a good shouting vocal by Pig Pen, a chugging version of "Good Loving" that led to interpolations of other tunes and a tremendous drum duet (along with the usual brilliance of Garcia). It is hard for me to single out other great moments, for the band's greatness lies in its ability to flow from song to song, from improvisation to improvisation, from shieking loud ensembles to controlled soft solos. Most importantly (and perhaps this is why they're so good) the guys in the band listen to one another, so that the total sound of the band is what grabs the listener.
(from the Independent Eye, April 9-23, 1970)
Thanks to Mark Neeley.
See also these reviews:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2012/07/april-3-1970-cincinatti.html
https://archive.org/details/gd1970-04-03.141224.sbd.boswell.smith.sirmick.flac1644
Last Friday The Grateful Dead presented a concert at the University of Cincinnati, and I doubt whether the Fieldhouse will ever be the same. The good feelings that hung in the air, the aroma of little cigarettes (I wonder what they could have been?), the vibrancy of the music, must certainly have caused a change in the molecular structure of the place.
The concert brought together various groups that helped to make the evening a good one. The Hog Farm was there, handling the technical aspects. One of the best things about the show was a spectacular and genuinely mind-opening light show, certainly the best I've ever seen. It used film, design and light to great advantage.
The story of the evening, however, was music. The first group to appear was the Lemon Pipers, a solid local band that did some blues-influenced rock. Good instrumentalists (except for the drummer who was monotonously heavy and not up to some of the tempos), the group started strongly and then got bogged down in some slow things that made their set run out of gas rather quickly.
The second group was Devil's Kitchen from Illinois. Ironically, they weren't very good instrumentally, and their singer is woefully bad, but they have a very fast drummer that kicks them into sounding like a pretty good band.
I should point out, however, that everyone knew that the bands were there just to warm-up the audience for the Dead. As such, they did their job well and were politely received by the happy audience.
After Devil's Kitchen left, there were the usual open-mike ramblings and then someone put on some Santana tapes. People wandered around, shaking to "Jingo," and then, "From San Francisco, here they are, the Grateful Dead!"
There they were, the two drummers, Pig Pen, Jerry Garcia, the works! There is no doubt about it, The Grateful Dead are one of the finest rock bands around. They played one of the longest and most exciting sets of rock I've ever heard. Some of the highlights: a long and friendly acoustic segment with a good version of "Wake Up Little Suzy," a crowd pleasing version of Bobby Bland's "Turn On Your Love Light" featuring a great solo by Garcia on guitar and a good shouting vocal by Pig Pen, a chugging version of "Good Loving" that led to interpolations of other tunes and a tremendous drum duet (along with the usual brilliance of Garcia). It is hard for me to single out other great moments, for the band's greatness lies in its ability to flow from song to song, from improvisation to improvisation, from shieking loud ensembles to controlled soft solos. Most importantly (and perhaps this is why they're so good) the guys in the band listen to one another, so that the total sound of the band is what grabs the listener.
(from the Independent Eye, April 9-23, 1970)
Thanks to Mark Neeley.
See also these reviews:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2012/07/april-3-1970-cincinatti.html
https://archive.org/details/gd1970-04-03.141224.sbd.boswell.smith.sirmick.flac1644
May 9, 1970: Worcester Polytechnic Institute, Worcester, MA
THE DEAD
The Greatful Dead performed at WPI on Saturday, May 9 and Sunday, May 10. Their concert lasted from 9 p.m. Saturday until 2:20 a.m. Sunday morning. Led by guitarist Jerry Garcia, the Dead performed everything from acoustic country music to distortic rock music.
Beginning a little late at 9 p.m., the group did a bit of acoustic country music. The crowd didn't quite get into this part of the show, except those who really liked the Dead. As the night went on, and the group moved into more electric music, the crowd began to wake up. By 12 the crowd on the floor had thinned out and some of those left were dancing and tripping. By 2:20 a.m. when the concert ended, those left had either fallen asleep on the floor, or were still standing up front jumping and dancing.
The Grateful Dead were one of the first groups to come out with what is now sometimes known as the "San Francisco" sound. A mixture of country and rock with a little blues thrown in, the "sound" has been carried on by such groups as the Moby Grape, Sea Train, Quicksilver Messenger Service, and Jefferson Airplane; the latter of which had more of a hard rock tint. The Grateful Dead are actually a group of about ten musicians, including two drummers, three guitarists, one bass player, and one organist-harp player.
All in all, the concert was very good, all five and one half hours of it.
(by Al Gradet, from the Tech News, 12 May 1970)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to Volkmar.
The Greatful Dead performed at WPI on Saturday, May 9 and Sunday, May 10. Their concert lasted from 9 p.m. Saturday until 2:20 a.m. Sunday morning. Led by guitarist Jerry Garcia, the Dead performed everything from acoustic country music to distortic rock music.
Beginning a little late at 9 p.m., the group did a bit of acoustic country music. The crowd didn't quite get into this part of the show, except those who really liked the Dead. As the night went on, and the group moved into more electric music, the crowd began to wake up. By 12 the crowd on the floor had thinned out and some of those left were dancing and tripping. By 2:20 a.m. when the concert ended, those left had either fallen asleep on the floor, or were still standing up front jumping and dancing.
The Grateful Dead were one of the first groups to come out with what is now sometimes known as the "San Francisco" sound. A mixture of country and rock with a little blues thrown in, the "sound" has been carried on by such groups as the Moby Grape, Sea Train, Quicksilver Messenger Service, and Jefferson Airplane; the latter of which had more of a hard rock tint. The Grateful Dead are actually a group of about ten musicians, including two drummers, three guitarists, one bass player, and one organist-harp player.
All in all, the concert was very good, all five and one half hours of it.
(by Al Gradet, from the Tech News, 12 May 1970)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to Volkmar.
May 20, 2020
March 11, 1968: Memorial Auditorium, Sacramento, CA
BRITISH ROCK TRIO PLAYS HARD BLUES
Cream, a relatively new British rock music trio which has been, you should excuse the expression, rising to the top very swiftly in America by way of two record albums, made an impressive debut last night in the Memorial Auditorium before a near capacity crowd of around 3,500.
The trio takes its name from the claim that its members are the cream of the crop in England. Guitarist and singer Eric Clapton; Jack Bruce, who plays bass guitar, harmonica, and also sings; and Ginger Baker, the drummer, are all said to be stars in their own individual right at home. After hearing them ride through an hour and five minutes of hard driving and often brilliantly played arrangements, one is willing to believe it.
Their music is, with few exceptions, primarily and very strongly rooted in the blues. Last night's pieces were almost all blues, and included, from their more popular recorded numbers, "Tales of Brave Ulysses," a slow, driving and very verbal piece, and "The Sunshine of Your Love." The very slow and supremely gutty blues which followed the latter, a lament for a gone woman, was even better.
The trio's set closed with three pieces which gave each man a chance to shine. Clapton's moment, a long, insistent solo, came in a duet with Baker. Bruce then teamed up with the tireless drummer for a fast "train blues" on the harmonica, spiced with husky singing that eventually mixed so swiftly with the harmonica one could hardly tell them apart. It was a brilliant, exciting performance. Finally, the two guitarists gave Baker a sendoff and then left him alone onstage for a tremendous 10 minute drum solo that stood the crowd on its feet for a final ovation.
The San Francisco group known as the Grateful Dead opened the program with a 60 minute performance that was uninterrupted from start to finish. The first half of it seemed either to be divided into sections or was actually three or four numbers strung together with some random guitar tuning in between. The second half was a long, long blues that ended in several minutes of roaring, howling, screaming cataclysmic electronic sound, punctuated by several firecrackers set off by one of the two drummers and eventually fading away into a hillbilly-style hymn bidding the audience good night. It was quite a contrast. Some of the earlier parts of the performance worked up some musical momentum, but nothing of what was sung could be understood. Loudness, it would appear, is the overriding quality the Dead are after.
The local group known as the Light Brigade projected from the rear of the stage a light show behind the performers.
The show was an inexcusable 47 minutes late in starting.
Adults who think all young people are rebellious should have seen the incredible patience this crowd displayed during this period of waiting for those outside to buy tickets.
With the Cream's performance, however, it became apparent they knew what they were waiting for.
(by William Glackin, from the Sacramento Bee, 12 March 1968)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to jgmf.blogspot.com
See also:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2017/05/march-11-1968-sacramento-ca.html
Cream, a relatively new British rock music trio which has been, you should excuse the expression, rising to the top very swiftly in America by way of two record albums, made an impressive debut last night in the Memorial Auditorium before a near capacity crowd of around 3,500.
The trio takes its name from the claim that its members are the cream of the crop in England. Guitarist and singer Eric Clapton; Jack Bruce, who plays bass guitar, harmonica, and also sings; and Ginger Baker, the drummer, are all said to be stars in their own individual right at home. After hearing them ride through an hour and five minutes of hard driving and often brilliantly played arrangements, one is willing to believe it.
Their music is, with few exceptions, primarily and very strongly rooted in the blues. Last night's pieces were almost all blues, and included, from their more popular recorded numbers, "Tales of Brave Ulysses," a slow, driving and very verbal piece, and "The Sunshine of Your Love." The very slow and supremely gutty blues which followed the latter, a lament for a gone woman, was even better.
The trio's set closed with three pieces which gave each man a chance to shine. Clapton's moment, a long, insistent solo, came in a duet with Baker. Bruce then teamed up with the tireless drummer for a fast "train blues" on the harmonica, spiced with husky singing that eventually mixed so swiftly with the harmonica one could hardly tell them apart. It was a brilliant, exciting performance. Finally, the two guitarists gave Baker a sendoff and then left him alone onstage for a tremendous 10 minute drum solo that stood the crowd on its feet for a final ovation.
The San Francisco group known as the Grateful Dead opened the program with a 60 minute performance that was uninterrupted from start to finish. The first half of it seemed either to be divided into sections or was actually three or four numbers strung together with some random guitar tuning in between. The second half was a long, long blues that ended in several minutes of roaring, howling, screaming cataclysmic electronic sound, punctuated by several firecrackers set off by one of the two drummers and eventually fading away into a hillbilly-style hymn bidding the audience good night. It was quite a contrast. Some of the earlier parts of the performance worked up some musical momentum, but nothing of what was sung could be understood. Loudness, it would appear, is the overriding quality the Dead are after.
The local group known as the Light Brigade projected from the rear of the stage a light show behind the performers.
The show was an inexcusable 47 minutes late in starting.
Adults who think all young people are rebellious should have seen the incredible patience this crowd displayed during this period of waiting for those outside to buy tickets.
With the Cream's performance, however, it became apparent they knew what they were waiting for.
(by William Glackin, from the Sacramento Bee, 12 March 1968)
Alas, no tape!
Thanks to jgmf.blogspot.com
See also:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2017/05/march-11-1968-sacramento-ca.html
May 12, 2020
February 21, 1967: The Maze TV Broadcast
TRIPPING OUT IN H-A
Were those picturesque persons who drifted lazily across the KPIX screen Tuesday night the beatific beneficiaries of a beautiful new society? Were they the harbinger saints of a revolutionary philosophy of love and anti-hassle? Or were they just a bunch of kids in beards, playing out the perennial delusion that 20-year-olds know more about life, truth and beauty than their confused elders, who commute, wear ties, and send a check once a month?
As a typically rat-raced commuter in the over-30 age group (who, as you know, are not to be trusted) I took the latter view of "The Maze," a well-made half-hour excursion into the scented-beaded-folk-rocking picnicland of Haight-Ashbury, home of the hip, the turned-on and the freaked-out. It was, as they say, a trip.
As the KPIX camera traveled through the centers of dropout culture, the Psychedelic Book Shop with its walls covered with poster photos of camp heroes like Bogart and W. C, Fields, [and] the Straight Theater where the Grateful Dead blast out a stupefying roar of nihilistic sound, the hippie community presented themselves with great profusion of facial hair and odd raiment, and expressions of vacancy that no doubt denote inner peace.
They are a weird clientele, all right, but are they really the sinister threats to society that local newscasters paint them to be? After the first initial shock, one soon perceives that underneath those beards are the smooth faces of somebody's kids, caught in the still hiatus between school and the draft, having a happy, slothful time for themselves and avoiding adult life as long as possible. Who can blame them? I mean, like, who really wants to commute?
As is good policy when venturing into foreign territory, KPIX hired a competent guide. Michael McClure, a handsome young poet with a medium-length mane, conducted a knowledgeable, articulate tour and defended the hippie way of life with reasonable plausibility.
"The straight people really need what's happening here," said McClure, explaining that Haight-Ashbury is a free, uncritical place where "the phony rituals are stripped away," where "I can grow my hair to my shoulders and see what it is to feel like Greta Garbo. There's no society to tell me 'You must be this.'"
McClure conceded, with an air of serene indifference, that sexual restraints and taboos are passe in Haight-Ashbury. "But they're also passe on Madison Avenue, and up on Montgomery Street. The difference is in the lack of hypocrisy here."
The camera visited several communal apartments in the district, where apartments are getting so scarce that incoming hippies must move into nearby areas. The pads, if they are still called pads (we grow old!) looked clean and colorful, intriguingly bedecked with hanging jewels, posters, Indian cloth, polished wooden & glass articles in aesthetic shapes. The squalor and calculated crumminess that delighted the beatnik generation are out of style now.
"This isn't North Beach all over again," said McClure. "North Beach was in revolt against society. But this new thing is not in revolt. It has just divorced itself."
Haight-Ashbury folk are not interested in protests, marches, or other tension-inducing behavior. They are also, it was clear, not interested in work, although the district maintains a "HIP Job Corps" to provide part-time employment for hungry hippies. McClure's young friends were seen in various postures of serenity (or was it just sluggishness?), carrying on all-night conversations in incense-shrouded circles, the girls gazing dully (or is it tranquilly?) through the long, ironed hair that hangs in their very-young faces, the boys speaking solemnly through the bushy beards that look strangely incongruous against shiny cheeks and unlined foreheads.
Other hippies were seen making bread, or singing Krishna hymns in a Hindu ceremony, or simply congratulating themselves on their citizenship among the enlightened. "I think we are revolutionaries of living," said one unshaven and placid soul, squatting on a cushion.
After allowing McClure 30 minutes of affectionate propagandizing for Dropoutsville, KPIX felt the need to establish itself on the side of righteousness and squaredom by reminding that Haight-Ashbury also contains "weak, selfish and criminal people," and hinting with delicious vagueness at "sexual excesses." No doubt there are. . . But the scene that KPIX revealed looked harmless enough, and pretty, and silly, and awfully young.
Personally, I haven't the slightest desire to know what it is to feel like Greta Garbo. Even if I had, with 13 car payments to go, this is no time to start getting disdainful of the good old straight world.
(by Bob MacKenzie, from the "On Television" column, Oakland Tribune, 23 February 1967)
https://diva.sfsu.edu/collections/sfbatv/bundles/189371
See also comments here:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2013/04/april-8-1967-ralph-gleason-tv-interview.html
Were those picturesque persons who drifted lazily across the KPIX screen Tuesday night the beatific beneficiaries of a beautiful new society? Were they the harbinger saints of a revolutionary philosophy of love and anti-hassle? Or were they just a bunch of kids in beards, playing out the perennial delusion that 20-year-olds know more about life, truth and beauty than their confused elders, who commute, wear ties, and send a check once a month?
As a typically rat-raced commuter in the over-30 age group (who, as you know, are not to be trusted) I took the latter view of "The Maze," a well-made half-hour excursion into the scented-beaded-folk-rocking picnicland of Haight-Ashbury, home of the hip, the turned-on and the freaked-out. It was, as they say, a trip.
As the KPIX camera traveled through the centers of dropout culture, the Psychedelic Book Shop with its walls covered with poster photos of camp heroes like Bogart and W. C, Fields, [and] the Straight Theater where the Grateful Dead blast out a stupefying roar of nihilistic sound, the hippie community presented themselves with great profusion of facial hair and odd raiment, and expressions of vacancy that no doubt denote inner peace.
They are a weird clientele, all right, but are they really the sinister threats to society that local newscasters paint them to be? After the first initial shock, one soon perceives that underneath those beards are the smooth faces of somebody's kids, caught in the still hiatus between school and the draft, having a happy, slothful time for themselves and avoiding adult life as long as possible. Who can blame them? I mean, like, who really wants to commute?
As is good policy when venturing into foreign territory, KPIX hired a competent guide. Michael McClure, a handsome young poet with a medium-length mane, conducted a knowledgeable, articulate tour and defended the hippie way of life with reasonable plausibility.
"The straight people really need what's happening here," said McClure, explaining that Haight-Ashbury is a free, uncritical place where "the phony rituals are stripped away," where "I can grow my hair to my shoulders and see what it is to feel like Greta Garbo. There's no society to tell me 'You must be this.'"
McClure conceded, with an air of serene indifference, that sexual restraints and taboos are passe in Haight-Ashbury. "But they're also passe on Madison Avenue, and up on Montgomery Street. The difference is in the lack of hypocrisy here."
The camera visited several communal apartments in the district, where apartments are getting so scarce that incoming hippies must move into nearby areas. The pads, if they are still called pads (we grow old!) looked clean and colorful, intriguingly bedecked with hanging jewels, posters, Indian cloth, polished wooden & glass articles in aesthetic shapes. The squalor and calculated crumminess that delighted the beatnik generation are out of style now.
"This isn't North Beach all over again," said McClure. "North Beach was in revolt against society. But this new thing is not in revolt. It has just divorced itself."
Haight-Ashbury folk are not interested in protests, marches, or other tension-inducing behavior. They are also, it was clear, not interested in work, although the district maintains a "HIP Job Corps" to provide part-time employment for hungry hippies. McClure's young friends were seen in various postures of serenity (or was it just sluggishness?), carrying on all-night conversations in incense-shrouded circles, the girls gazing dully (or is it tranquilly?) through the long, ironed hair that hangs in their very-young faces, the boys speaking solemnly through the bushy beards that look strangely incongruous against shiny cheeks and unlined foreheads.
Other hippies were seen making bread, or singing Krishna hymns in a Hindu ceremony, or simply congratulating themselves on their citizenship among the enlightened. "I think we are revolutionaries of living," said one unshaven and placid soul, squatting on a cushion.
After allowing McClure 30 minutes of affectionate propagandizing for Dropoutsville, KPIX felt the need to establish itself on the side of righteousness and squaredom by reminding that Haight-Ashbury also contains "weak, selfish and criminal people," and hinting with delicious vagueness at "sexual excesses." No doubt there are. . . But the scene that KPIX revealed looked harmless enough, and pretty, and silly, and awfully young.
Personally, I haven't the slightest desire to know what it is to feel like Greta Garbo. Even if I had, with 13 car payments to go, this is no time to start getting disdainful of the good old straight world.
(by Bob MacKenzie, from the "On Television" column, Oakland Tribune, 23 February 1967)
https://diva.sfsu.edu/collections/sfbatv/bundles/189371
See also comments here:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2013/04/april-8-1967-ralph-gleason-tv-interview.html
Sep 20, 2019
October 26, 1971: University of Rochester, NY
'DEAD' TO PLAY
A band that emerged from the San Francisco underground to gain perhaps the most devoted and fanatical following in the rock world will perform here Tuesday.
The Grateful Dead will appear at 8:30 p.m. at the University of Rochester Palestra. Appearing with them will be the New Riders of the Purple Sage. The concert is sold out.
(from the Rochester Democrat & Chronicle, 23 October 1971)
* * *
Last Night In Review
LONG WAIT FOR 'DEAD'
Even the most fanatical fan of the Grateful Dead (and we all know the Dead fans are most fanatical of all) must have had occasion last night to ask himself, "Why bother?"
More than 3,000 fans were forced to wait several hours in front of the University of Rochester Palestra until the first row of waiters was pinioned against the building wall, and each successive row layered on the next.
The doors finally opened about 9:30 p.m., one hour after the scheduled start of the concert. Some in the audience had been there since 6:30 p.m. WCMF-FM had arranged to broadcast the concert beginning at 9:30 p.m.
Once inside the Palestra, where the breathing was not much better, the New Riders of the Purple Sage immediately began to turn the tide on the audience's lingering annoyance.
The New Riders are not a run-of-the-mill warm-up act, but a completely professional group worthy of top billing.
They spread their gentle countrified sound, very reminiscent of the Grateful Dead, over songs ranging from those of Merle Haggard to the old Ricky Nelson hit "Hello, Marylou."
The resemblance to the Grateful Dead is not purely coincidental, since Jerry Garcia, lead singer and lead guitarist of the Dead, plays the steel guitar quietly in the background for the Riders.
One unsatisfying moment in their performance was a venture into "I Don't Need No Doctor," played and sung proficiently but performed without the instinctive feeling of a great blues band.
When the Grateful Dead made their appearance just before midnight, the level of excellence the New Riders had attained was merely a launching pad.
The Dead has a reputation as one of the greatest performing bands in the world and they deserve it.
The band consists of Garcia, Bob Weir on rhythm guitar, Phil Lesh on bass guitar, Bill Kreutzmann on drums, and Keith Godchaux, filling in last night for organist Ron "Pig Pen" McKernan.
They came running out and into "Bertha," a song written by Garcia and Robert Hunter, who writes many of the Dead's songs. The audience was with them from the start, groups dancing in circles, bouncing, clapping hands over their heads.
The band appears to play with a minimum of frills - no strutting Mick Jagger, no guitar-twirling-smashing Peter Townshend, no drumstick flipping a la Keith Moon.
In fact the only frill was a simulated flamethrower, sending streaks of light in the air.
The Dead is one band that appears to perform without egos out front. Garcia frames some exquisite guitar solos, playing from the side of the stage, barely visible to half the audience.
The Dead's songs are only convenient landmarks for the audience on precise musical journeys into the stratosphere.
A beautiful version of John Phillips' "Me and My Uncle" featured Phil Lesh doing a final vocal. [sic]
The Dead, the one band that could play all night and does, was still going early in the morning.
(by Mark Starr, from the Rochester Democrat & Chronicle, 27 October 1971)
* * *
"ROCNROL" [excerpt]
First off, a little
Grateful Dead news - Due to illness, don't expect to see Pigpen making
concert appearances with the Dead for a while. It seems that the laws of
nature and human chemistry have finally caught up with Pigpen, and
he'll be laid up in the hospital for a little while, recovering from
what is said to be serosis of the liver. In his absence the Dead will
have someone by the name of Keith Jarron playing organ and piano, but
fear not, Pigpen will rejoin the Dead as soon as his recovery is
complete.
THE GRATEFUL DEAD
A CONCERT U OF R STYLE
At 5:30, four hours before the start of the concert, the truck pulled in and a complete sound system was unloaded. As the speakers, amplifiers, and preamplifiers were hauled to the stage, I noticed stickers on all of the crates. They read "Good old Grateful Dead," and for a moment I thought, "Boy, how far from the truth could they be." No more three hour versions of "Dark Star" or "St. Stephen," but rather short, sweet versions of "Me and Bobby McGee" and "Truckin'."
The Dead have changed, there's no denying that, but it was a natural evolution. The San Francisco pioneer group that played a major role in the creation of the Acid Rock scene has now turned to an almost country-western sound.
The guitar genius of Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir and the unique sound of Phil Lesh's bass is still there, but they are much more interwoven, whereas in the early days, ninety minute solos by any of the band was not uncommon.
Tuesday night's four hour set went really well and the Dead did a large selection of songs, ranging from cuts from their two newest albums, "American Beauty" and "Grateful Dead Live," to an old Rick Nelson favorite, "Hello Mary Lou, Goodbye Love." The appreciative audience applauded every number.
At the end of the concert, the crowd showed their thanks, content to leave with a head full of sweet Dead sounds.
Earlier in the evening, while backstage, I saw Guru Garcia open a piece of foil, swallow, take a drink of water, and smile. Maybe those stickers weren't so wrong after all.
(both articles from the Stylus, SUNY Brockport, 2 November 1971)
* * *
'ROUND THINGS ARE...BORING'
I just sat down, turned on the radio, and was sadly greeted by news of the death of Duane Allman. A few years ago death in the music world came very unexpectedly, all being isolated incidents. This is no longer the case. There are reasons for Brian Jones, Jimi, Janis, Alan Wilson, and the all but physical death of Johnny Winter. And one reason might be the continuous pressure that we the audience place on these people? Well, it's something to think about!
All this leads me to the apparent musical stagnation of the Grateful Dead. Let me first explain to you what the Grateful Dead meant to me before last Tuesday, and what they mean to me now. For the past few years, there had been very few things that meant more to me: a few family members, a friend or two, my girlfriend. That was about it. My love for the Dead had even surpassed my love for the San Francisco Giants, a group of people I had lived and died with for 11 years.
I loved them for two reasons, one being that they played the fucking best rock music ever. As Lenny Kaye said in his review of Live Dead: "The Dead is five years ahead of any rock band. They play music other groups don't even know exist." Secondly, I found their attitudes beautiful. They played their music and if you couldn't dig it, that was no reason for them to compromise themselves or their music. As Garcia once said, "On our first tour, people were constantly walking out. But the people who liked us came back every night."
Then a strange thing happened (or should I use "inevitable") and the great masses discovered the Dead. As the crowds got larger and larger, some changes began to occur in their music. Those legendary all-night jams began to shorten, their acoustic sets were stopped, and since the new Dead freaks were those who were purchasing Workingman's Dead and American Beauty, a Dead concert was now designed to please that new audience. The Dead were true blue and indeed gave them what they wanted to hear - spotlight on "Uncle John's Band" and "Truckin." It's a helluva lot easier to just repeat the chorus to "Casey Jones" over and over again than to work and attempt to achieve a musical high like in "Viola Lee Blues" or "Dark Star." I guess that's it in a nutshell.
The high point of a Dead concert used to be musical, but it is no longer that. A Dead concert used to be a reinforcement of life, an affirmation of an alternative lifestyle. Now it's just a temporary alleviation from the monotony and sordidness of our lives. It is not so different from the way our parents use the once every three months bar mitzvah or wedding to forget how much it takes to go on. The point of all this being that the Dead are now able to satisfy their audience with just a trifle of what they are capable of.
So I found myself in Rochester last week, hoping that I would find the band that has given me so much pleasure in the past. But even before the show began I received news that Pigpen was in the hospital with cirrhosis of the liver. I had enough doubts about the show to begin with, and this news just made it that much worse.
Once inside the gym, I found myself right in front of the stage, maybe two feet away from Sam Cutler who promptly introduced the Riders. They seem to be shifting their sound from strictly country to include funkier material. This is evidenced by Marmaduke's shift to electric guitar, and bassist Dave Torbert doing two or three lead vocals. His songs were all hand-clapping, ass-shaking tunes. Anyway, the Riders put on one fine show. Their set included many cuts from their album, with great renditions of "Last Lonely Eagle" and "Henry," which Marmaduke dedicated to "anyone who has ever made a living by smuggling dope."
The stage was now set for the Dead, and it was the first time I was ever apprehensive before seeing a band. And my apprehension became even more real before they played a note. The stage was inundated by at least ten men wearing Grateful Dead skull shirts. And when I looked up at the gym backboard, I saw about five more skull stickers. And on the drums and everywhere else I looked all I saw was the ominous "skull." And then I realized what had happened, this really was The Grateful Dead Show, just like it had said on the ticket.
"The hottest rock & roll band this side of New York City," said Sam Cutler and the Dead broke into "Bertha." And then "Playing in the Band, Big Railroad Blues, Me and My Uncle," and "Me and Bobby McGee." I never saw a greater album push in my life. I wouldn't even have minded so much, but I was hearing the exact replica of the album, note for note. Absolutely no spontaneity, and spontaneity was what the Dead used to be all about.
And not only was their music lacking but their attitude was also. I've never seen anyone more bored than Bill Kreutzmann was that night. My mind wandered back to before the show when Phil Lesh had refused to give me a backstage pass because, in his words, "These passes are for beautiful chicks," and he proceeded to give them to three girls who happened to be wandering by.
Then came "Sugar Magnolia," and I told my friend to watch as Phil Lesh shoots his arms into the air at the end of the break. The end of the break came, up went Phil's arm, and my friend stared at me in disbelief. It had all become so contrived!
When it was over, I spoke to their manager and expressed my great disappointment in what I had just seen. His reply was: "We think there is something for everyone in our show now." I said to myself, "Yeah, for me and many other longtime Dead people there was about five minutes tonight where the Dead forgot about pleasing the masses and got down to playing." When they did that I knew they were still the best musicians around, not that there was any doubt about that.
It is evident that they've decided to take the easier path. But can we really blame them? They're only human, and so now that they've finally made it they're cashing in on it. No different than anyone else, right? Or mostly anyone else anyway. My only hope is that when things get a little less hectic, the Dead can once again settle down to the business of making great music, instead of the business of making money. That the Grateful Dead Show will deteriorate into the just plain old Grateful Dead. For now I'll content myself with recordings of what used to be and sit back and hope it can be again.
(by Terry Bromberg & Jesse Levine, from the Spectrum, University at Buffalo, 5 November 1971)
Thanks to Dave Davis.
* * *
Concert Post-Mortem
GRAVE REFLECTIONS [excerpts]
The man who ran the concert said
Here is your ticket. I want you to review the Grateful Dead because I like you. You are the finest reviewer of rock and roll the Campus Times has ever had. There is nothing I like better than a good rock and roll review. [ . . . ]
The administrative gent said
Do you like music? I like music very much. My kids listen to rock and roll music all the time. I can't tell the difference between the groups. I find it monotonous. I much prefer the big bands. You don't like that kind of music, do you?
I said
Sir, my parents loved the big bands. I was raised with the big bands, and a big band boy I'll stay. Just give me Doris Day with Les Brown and his Band of Renown and I'm happy. I own a large collection of big band records. Do you like me? I hope so.
My father said
What do you want to see the Grateful Dead for? You've seen them five times already, haven't you? They're still the same people, aren't they? What do you do at those concerts, anyway? Why aren't you still writing for the Campus Times? What did you do with my collection of big band records?
The freak in front of the Palestra said
I saw the Dead last night in Buffalo. I will see them tomorrow night in Syracuse. What I'm doing is, I'm following the Dead around the East. I think Garcia recognizes me. Last week he took a toke on a joint I offered him. I like the Dead because they're real. You got a spare ticket? [ . . . ]
The mob said
This waiting in front of the Palestra for three hours is for the birds. Who do the Grateful Dead think we think they are? Culture heroes? Are those windows open? They're not? Let's find some rocks and throw them at the glass, thereby shattering it and providing the counter-culture with an alternative means of entry. That will pass the time. [ . . . ]
The man who does the lights is reported to have said
I enjoy doing the lights. It allows me a clinical perspective on rock concert crowds. I can get drunk and watch them walk over one another. They're a bunch of fucking assholes.
The mad chemist said
Have you read The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test? I have. I am contemplating providing that book with another objective correlative. I have in my hand a jug of orange juice. I have in my other hand a modicum of powdery pre-sweetened LSD. What do you imagine will happen if I put the powdery pre-sweetened LSD in the orange juice, and distributed the concoction liberally in front of the stage? It is the duty of the scientist to find such things out.
The humanist said
Are you thinking of going to the concert? The crowd seemed very ugly indeed. Why don't we listen to it on the radio? As we sit, let's consider rationally the merits and demerits of attending the concert. There is a rumor that they are going to play until classes begin.
Ten minutes later, the humanist said
Let's sing along with 'Me and Bobby McGee!'
The cynical rock fan said
This concert sucks. Sam Cutler gave me a fifty dollar bill and said to buy beer for the band. I bought beer for the band. Did you use your ticket? You could have gotten in free, you know. What can you write about the Grateful Dead, anyway?
I said
I feel perverse this evening. I think I will write a review of the Grateful Dead concert that completely avoids saying anything about the Grateful Dead. My friends don't even care what I say about the Grateful Dead. The two and a half hours I saw were very good, especially the Band record they played at intermission. But that's my opinion. So here's a space
for you to fill with good things for later.
(by Daniel Smirlock, from the Campus Times, U of Rochester, 29 October 1971)
https://digitalcollections.lib.rochester.edu/ur/campus-times-october-29-1971-6
Released on Download Series vol. 3.
https://archive.org/details/gd71-10-26.sbd.cotsman.9761.sbeok.shnf
Sep 19, 2019
October 21, 1971: Auditorium Theater, Chicago IL
THE RETURN OF THE 'DEAD'
The Grateful Dead, whose four-hour concerts here last August loomed large among the summer's more welcome musical experiences, returned to the Auditorium Theater last night for more of the same.
Alas, all of them did not make the trip. Ron McKernan, better known for obvious reasons as Pig Pen, is in the hospital with cirrhosis of the liver and was replaced by a keyboard man who could fill his place but not quite his boots. Other than that, things were about the same as they've been every time I've seen the Dead perform - relaxed, yet very much together, with the high points outweighing the times long instrumental segments slip into dullness.
With the Dead came the New Riders of the Purple Sage, a group that - like the Dead - combine country and western with good ol' rock 'n' roll. Jerry Garcia, lead guitarist and vocalist for the Dead, doubles as a New Rider on pedal steel, and to him goes a lot of the credit for the group's sound.
Like their name implies, the NRPS lean most toward country, their material dealing in such things as the "Last Lonely Eagle" or a "Louisiana Lady," with the rock 'n roll thrown in for a change of pace. Last night they got some sparks going with "Willie and the Hand Jive," and maybe they should have done more in that vein. While good enough, their set, particularly at first, wasn't that outstanding - and certainly not as much as their new album, "New Riders of the Purple Sage" had me expecting it might be. Still, they're worth hearing - if only for Garcia's pedal steel work (and there's more to them than that).
A second performance will be held tonight, but it's already sold out. If you don't have a ticket, tho, take heart - the whole thing's being broadcast live over WGLD, beginning at 7:30.
(by Lynn Van Matre, from the Chicago Tribune, 22 October 1971)
* * *
THE DEAD STAGE A REVIVAL
What do musicians learn in two months?
The Grateful Dead played the Auditorium Aug. 23 and 24, so why would they come back, as they did Thursday night, and repeat?
Well, it turned out there was no need to question. For four hours, it was a new concert. I left at an intermission in the Dead's set to meet a deadline, but the Dead crew said the group would do the old numbers in the second half of their set.
The first new thing about the concert was the New Riders of the Purple Sage, which wasn't along last time. Composed of Dead man Jerry Garcia and four friends, the New Riders play a weird kind of country rock, with most of the pleasant songs written and sung by John Dawson.
The vocals are an important element in the New Riders' music, but the PA speakers were aimed badly for those in the front rows, so Dawson's nice lyrics were lost, although the occasional harmony sounded fine. What came through beautifully were the lead guitar of Dave Nelson and Garcia's pedal steel guitar.
Garcia is the showman, starting off badly on a solo but working at it until it turns into something to clap about. But Nelson is taste personified; he acts so insignificant onstage that it's hard to hear all the wonderful little things he's doing unless you close your eyes.
Rounding out the band are ex-Jefferson Airplane drummer Spencer Dryden, unawed by Dawson's simple-complicated numbers, and similarly flexible bassist Dave Torbert. They can get the crowd going with "Willie and the Hand Jive" and "Honky Tonk Women," but the real measure of the group is on unusual numbers like "Louisiana Lady" and "Lost Lonely Eagle."
As for the Dead, the first difference was the absence of Pigpen. Replacing the organist, who's just out of the hospital after treatment for a perforated ulcer, was Keith Godchaux, who plays a hot piano in addition to organ.
The Dead had been rehearsing a whole new set with Godchaux the last month, and Thursday night they played most of them. They show the group is once again changing, this time from the mellow music of their last few albums to classical rock.
Most of the numbers were in between, retaining the country-rock touch, but with more drive and energy. But the final number before intermission, "One More Saturday Night," was straight out of the Elvis-Little Richard-Jerry Lee Lewis songbook. The audience went crazy, turning up the chair seats and dancing in their places and in the aisles.
The Dead started playing their mellow, listening music at a time when audiences wanted to sit down and concentrate. Now it seems that many rock concertgoers can't wait to stand up and jump, and the Dead are into body music again. Could it be a revival for dance halls?
(by Al Rudis, from the Chicago Sun-Times, 23 October 1971)
Thanks to Dave Davis.
10/22 & part of 10/21/71 were released on Dave's Picks 3.
https://archive.org/details/gd1971-10-21.sbd.miller.112086.flac16
See also reviews of the 8/23/71 Chicago show:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2019/07/august-23-1971-auditorium-theater.html
The Grateful Dead, whose four-hour concerts here last August loomed large among the summer's more welcome musical experiences, returned to the Auditorium Theater last night for more of the same.
Alas, all of them did not make the trip. Ron McKernan, better known for obvious reasons as Pig Pen, is in the hospital with cirrhosis of the liver and was replaced by a keyboard man who could fill his place but not quite his boots. Other than that, things were about the same as they've been every time I've seen the Dead perform - relaxed, yet very much together, with the high points outweighing the times long instrumental segments slip into dullness.
With the Dead came the New Riders of the Purple Sage, a group that - like the Dead - combine country and western with good ol' rock 'n' roll. Jerry Garcia, lead guitarist and vocalist for the Dead, doubles as a New Rider on pedal steel, and to him goes a lot of the credit for the group's sound.
Like their name implies, the NRPS lean most toward country, their material dealing in such things as the "Last Lonely Eagle" or a "Louisiana Lady," with the rock 'n roll thrown in for a change of pace. Last night they got some sparks going with "Willie and the Hand Jive," and maybe they should have done more in that vein. While good enough, their set, particularly at first, wasn't that outstanding - and certainly not as much as their new album, "New Riders of the Purple Sage" had me expecting it might be. Still, they're worth hearing - if only for Garcia's pedal steel work (and there's more to them than that).
A second performance will be held tonight, but it's already sold out. If you don't have a ticket, tho, take heart - the whole thing's being broadcast live over WGLD, beginning at 7:30.
(by Lynn Van Matre, from the Chicago Tribune, 22 October 1971)
* * *
THE DEAD STAGE A REVIVAL
What do musicians learn in two months?
The Grateful Dead played the Auditorium Aug. 23 and 24, so why would they come back, as they did Thursday night, and repeat?
Well, it turned out there was no need to question. For four hours, it was a new concert. I left at an intermission in the Dead's set to meet a deadline, but the Dead crew said the group would do the old numbers in the second half of their set.
The first new thing about the concert was the New Riders of the Purple Sage, which wasn't along last time. Composed of Dead man Jerry Garcia and four friends, the New Riders play a weird kind of country rock, with most of the pleasant songs written and sung by John Dawson.
The vocals are an important element in the New Riders' music, but the PA speakers were aimed badly for those in the front rows, so Dawson's nice lyrics were lost, although the occasional harmony sounded fine. What came through beautifully were the lead guitar of Dave Nelson and Garcia's pedal steel guitar.
Garcia is the showman, starting off badly on a solo but working at it until it turns into something to clap about. But Nelson is taste personified; he acts so insignificant onstage that it's hard to hear all the wonderful little things he's doing unless you close your eyes.
Rounding out the band are ex-Jefferson Airplane drummer Spencer Dryden, unawed by Dawson's simple-complicated numbers, and similarly flexible bassist Dave Torbert. They can get the crowd going with "Willie and the Hand Jive" and "Honky Tonk Women," but the real measure of the group is on unusual numbers like "Louisiana Lady" and "Lost Lonely Eagle."
As for the Dead, the first difference was the absence of Pigpen. Replacing the organist, who's just out of the hospital after treatment for a perforated ulcer, was Keith Godchaux, who plays a hot piano in addition to organ.
The Dead had been rehearsing a whole new set with Godchaux the last month, and Thursday night they played most of them. They show the group is once again changing, this time from the mellow music of their last few albums to classical rock.
Most of the numbers were in between, retaining the country-rock touch, but with more drive and energy. But the final number before intermission, "One More Saturday Night," was straight out of the Elvis-Little Richard-Jerry Lee Lewis songbook. The audience went crazy, turning up the chair seats and dancing in their places and in the aisles.
The Dead started playing their mellow, listening music at a time when audiences wanted to sit down and concentrate. Now it seems that many rock concertgoers can't wait to stand up and jump, and the Dead are into body music again. Could it be a revival for dance halls?
(by Al Rudis, from the Chicago Sun-Times, 23 October 1971)
Thanks to Dave Davis.
10/22 & part of 10/21/71 were released on Dave's Picks 3.
https://archive.org/details/gd1971-10-21.sbd.miller.112086.flac16
See also reviews of the 8/23/71 Chicago show:
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2019/07/august-23-1971-auditorium-theater.html
Sep 18, 2019
October 19, 1971: Northrop Auditorium, Minneapolis MN
GRATEFUL DEAD BROADCASTS ITS POWER
John Pete was sweating, standing there on the stage of Northrop Auditorium Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday evening was the Grateful Dead-New Riders of the Purple Sage concert which KQRS radio, the station of which Pete is the program director, was going to broadcast live on FM stereo radio.
Pete was in shock because it was 3 p.m. and the group's equipment had yet to arrive. One hundred and fifty pieces of equipment, $100,000 worth, were still at the airport.
Pete had been working on this concert for the past five weeks. Minneapolis was the first stop in a nine-city tour for the Dead-New Riders entourage, which includes, along with the aforementioned hardware, 22 people to do things with it.
All their concerts are sell-outs, and the Dead wanted to be sure that everyone who wanted to could hear the music. The broadcast was set-up with the Dead, KQRS, and Warner Bros. and Columbia Records. It would be broadcast straight through, for five (or, as it turned out, six) hours with no commercial interruptions, the time being paid for by Warners and Columbia, for whom the Dead and the New Riders record, respectively.
The last needed piece was found and set up at 6:55 p.m.; the concert was to begin at 7:30. But the New Riders of the Purple Sage came on at 7 to play a couple of songs to test the broadcasting lines.
Pete was on the phone to the radio station, telling them to "Go! Go!" as the New Riders swung into an hour and a half set of country rock,
The New Riders were led by John "Marmaduke" Dawson, who writes all of the material and sing lead. He looks the improbable cowboy: slight, wide-eyed, an elf in country-western clothes. His music is lush, sweet country, songs that tell of the mournful cowpoke.
Foundations were laid for the Dead by Jerry Garcia, who played pedal steel guitar with the New Riders.
After a short break, the Dead came on for the first of two two-hour sets. Things were going off without a hitch. John Pete was beginning to look victorious. And then there came the Dead.
There is no other band in the world who can do what the Dead do to a crowd. They are all near-virtuosos on their instruments and they don't stop at being good. Or even at being better.
The Dead's whole trip seems to be shifting emphasis. They seem to be out of the whole period that began with their association with Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters. Their music then was just wildly innovative energy music that enchanted audiences with its mind-rending power.
Now they've mellowed out a little. Oh, the power is still there, but an even more cerebral quality is present now that grabs the mind totally.
The second set was the high energy stuff that musical dreams are made of. They did "That's It for the Other One," featuring an excellent drum solo by Bill Kreutzman, "Truckin," "Sugar Magnolia," "Uncle John's Band," then jammed into an incredible version of the old Rolling Stones hit, "Not Fade Away." They played for close to four hours, building the sound and the levels of the songs.
The radio broadcast went perfectly. Backstage, Pete relaxed and said, "If you asked me now if I'd do another one of these broadcasts, I'd say no. Ask me tomorrow morning and I'd probably say, "Well, who's coming to town that we can broadcast?"
Marshall Fine is a senior in journalism at the University of Minnesota and a freelance critic of popular music.
(by Marshall Fine, from the Minneapolis Star, 20 October 1971)
https://archive.org/details/gd1971-10-19.sbd.miller.114351.flac16
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2019/01/october-19-1971-jerry-garcia-phil-lesh.html
http://lostlivedead.blogspot.com/2015/03/grateful-dead-live-fm-broadcasts-1971.html
John Pete was sweating, standing there on the stage of Northrop Auditorium Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday evening was the Grateful Dead-New Riders of the Purple Sage concert which KQRS radio, the station of which Pete is the program director, was going to broadcast live on FM stereo radio.
Pete was in shock because it was 3 p.m. and the group's equipment had yet to arrive. One hundred and fifty pieces of equipment, $100,000 worth, were still at the airport.
Pete had been working on this concert for the past five weeks. Minneapolis was the first stop in a nine-city tour for the Dead-New Riders entourage, which includes, along with the aforementioned hardware, 22 people to do things with it.
All their concerts are sell-outs, and the Dead wanted to be sure that everyone who wanted to could hear the music. The broadcast was set-up with the Dead, KQRS, and Warner Bros. and Columbia Records. It would be broadcast straight through, for five (or, as it turned out, six) hours with no commercial interruptions, the time being paid for by Warners and Columbia, for whom the Dead and the New Riders record, respectively.
The last needed piece was found and set up at 6:55 p.m.; the concert was to begin at 7:30. But the New Riders of the Purple Sage came on at 7 to play a couple of songs to test the broadcasting lines.
Pete was on the phone to the radio station, telling them to "Go! Go!" as the New Riders swung into an hour and a half set of country rock,
The New Riders were led by John "Marmaduke" Dawson, who writes all of the material and sing lead. He looks the improbable cowboy: slight, wide-eyed, an elf in country-western clothes. His music is lush, sweet country, songs that tell of the mournful cowpoke.
Foundations were laid for the Dead by Jerry Garcia, who played pedal steel guitar with the New Riders.
After a short break, the Dead came on for the first of two two-hour sets. Things were going off without a hitch. John Pete was beginning to look victorious. And then there came the Dead.
There is no other band in the world who can do what the Dead do to a crowd. They are all near-virtuosos on their instruments and they don't stop at being good. Or even at being better.
The Dead's whole trip seems to be shifting emphasis. They seem to be out of the whole period that began with their association with Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters. Their music then was just wildly innovative energy music that enchanted audiences with its mind-rending power.
Now they've mellowed out a little. Oh, the power is still there, but an even more cerebral quality is present now that grabs the mind totally.
The second set was the high energy stuff that musical dreams are made of. They did "That's It for the Other One," featuring an excellent drum solo by Bill Kreutzman, "Truckin," "Sugar Magnolia," "Uncle John's Band," then jammed into an incredible version of the old Rolling Stones hit, "Not Fade Away." They played for close to four hours, building the sound and the levels of the songs.
The radio broadcast went perfectly. Backstage, Pete relaxed and said, "If you asked me now if I'd do another one of these broadcasts, I'd say no. Ask me tomorrow morning and I'd probably say, "Well, who's coming to town that we can broadcast?"
Marshall Fine is a senior in journalism at the University of Minnesota and a freelance critic of popular music.
(by Marshall Fine, from the Minneapolis Star, 20 October 1971)
https://archive.org/details/gd1971-10-19.sbd.miller.114351.flac16
http://deadsources.blogspot.com/2019/01/october-19-1971-jerry-garcia-phil-lesh.html
http://lostlivedead.blogspot.com/2015/03/grateful-dead-live-fm-broadcasts-1971.html
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