By 1989, the audiences were so large that the band could no longer perform in their former Bay Area homes – UC Berkeley’s Greek Theater and the pastoral Frost Amphitheater at Stanford.  So then it was off to enormo-domes and massive stadiums – in the cities that would have them, of course. Mobs of unwashed hippies descending upon main street USA was too much for some, and many places banned the Grateful Dead from performing and barred nomadic hippies from bathing in public fountains, panhandling and drinking from garden hoses.

But perhaps this newfound notoriety inspired the band, because on stage, the playing was hot in the summer of 1989. While I’ve always been a big fan of 1989′s brilliant fall tour (the “Dark Star” bust-out and its two consecutive performances in October), I’m discovering more and more than there is hardly a bad night on the summer tour.

Crimson, White, and Indigo captures every note of the band’s July 7th, 1989 concert at JFK Stadium in Philadelphia on the hottest day of the year (shades of Veneta, Oregon?) — three CDs of gorgeous 5.1 sound mastered from the original 24 track tapes – and the accompanying DVD features a professional multi-camera shoot and not just the stadium’s crap video feed. Even better, there are no annoying video effects – no dated Video Toaster graphics, no stock footage of pyramids and galaxies, just the band sweating, and giving it hell.

I’ll admit, shamefaced, that I never heard this concert before I read the press releases. I listened to some beautifully clear audience recordings that really whet my appetite for the whole package.

Watching the Grateful Dead on video is never the most engaging thing — there’s no real stage show, no props, it’s always about the performance (or in the case of the great unseen Sunshine Daydream – the naked hippie girls in the audience). In this case, there is a lot of fun stuff going on – the usual dour Jerry is all smiles as he shares inaudible jokes with Brent and Mickey. Phil Lesh, ever the fashion plate, is suited out for phys ed in a t-shirt tucked into gray sweatpants, New Balance sneaks, and a wrist band.

The show opens with a peppy “Hell in a Bucket” that segues into a rare first-set “Iko Iko” — as good an indication of Jerry’s mood as anything. The rest of the first set didn’t look all that exciting on paper, but everything is so strong and well-played, even “Little Red Rooster,” which is a great reminder of the Dead’s roots in blues. This is one of those versions where Brent throws in a cuss-filled ad-libbed verse.

Jerry’s guitar in 1989 still had some real bite to it – a crunchy overdrive that gave his solos an extra edge. (In the early ’90s, he traded in the crunch for a almost-acoustic sounding clear tone.) This really brings the fire to Bob’s “Let it Grow” — the only remaining piece of his abandoned “Weather Report Suite.” It was a hit or miss tune with me; some renditions percolate along with Bobby and the drummers battling for tempo control, but others close out first sets with an absolute bang. This one is definitely the latter. It fucking smokes. It may be Bob’s tune, but Jerry owns it; he rips it to shreds and drives it home for the closing coda.

As the sun finally sets on that sweltering day, Brent closes the first set with “Blow Away” — as strong a tune that Brent ever wrote for the band. Brent looks positively terrifying – sweat pouring down his face and glittering in his beard as he sings all husky and wild-eyed.  For all the beauty and joy in the Grateful Dead’s music, it is forever tainted by the downright senseless death of Brent just a little over a year after this show was recorded.  Not to mention Jerry Garcia.

Second set opens with a trifecta of “Box of Rain,” “Scarlet Begonias,” and “Fire on the Mountain.”  There’s that bouncy and fun groove throughout.  The linking jam between “Scarlet” and “Fire” features these sweet chiming arpeggios that are unique to this performance.

If I have one gripe about the show, it’s that it’s fairly light on the jams.  “Estimated Prophet” just starts to go places, when Jerry gives us “Standing on the Moon.”  While it would become one of Jer’s signature ballad, it’s in a strange position in the set – a relatively mellow launch pad for the “Rhythm Devils” / “Drums” segment of the show.

We see Billy and Mickey wail gleefully on the “Beast” and the “Beam” — a homemade instrument that features a series of metal strings over a giant guitar pick-up. Mickey plucks it, swats at it, kicks it, to produce the downright unearthly soundscapes. “Drumznspace” is far more engaging when you see what the musicians are doing. Watching Bob summon a cascade of bell-like tones from his speedy fingers is fun to watch.

In one of the best moments on the disc, Phil launches a rumbling bass-bomb into for “The Other One” — he’s jamming along, his fingers quick as anything over the frets, he looks to his comrades, digs in and brings the swirling chaotic jam into the body of the songs. It’s a riff that we’ve heard Phil play on countless recordings, but to see him do it, it’s just too cool. “The Other One” reaches some real intensity in what is otherwise a very mellow second set.

The show closes with a fiery (albeit quite brief) “Lovelight” before a stately reading of “Knocking On Heaven’s Door.”

As the band entered the 1980s, Brent’s voice and Hammond organ became key hallmarks of the band’s sound and brought a garage band exuberance as he lead the band through playful romps on  tunes like “Hey Pocky Way” and “Dear Mr. Fantasy.”  There’s a lot of interplay between Jerry and Brent on this set. Those crisp ethereal licks during the “Scarlet” transition that Brent reads back to Jerry, a nod, a gesture, a smile.  Maybe if the band took more time off to mourn their fallen comrade, things might have worked out differently.  Maybe the band could have been stronger and more able to deal with Jerry’s addictions and ills.

Like all of these archival releases, they’re as beautiful as they are bittersweet.  But invite your friends over, open a few cool ones, take your shoes off and let yourself drift away to that hot day in the sweet American summer of 1989.

March 15^th is Phil Lesh’s 70^th birthday.  He is celebrating at the Bill Graham Civic Center in San Francisco with his and Bob Weir’s Further project.

With a formal music education in classical, jazz, and theory, Phil provided the method to the Grateful Dead’s collective madness. Phil’s bass was the glue that held the band together, even on the most uninspired nights. When his band mates blew their royalty checks on drugs and cars, Phil would kick down surprise grants to his favorite up and coming avant garde composers.  Instead of riding on the tour bus, Phil would pack up the wife and kids, rent a car and drive into the shows with the fans.

I’ve taken many samples from that ecstatic and transcendent sound-world known as “The Phil Zone.” I wanted to go beyond just the top ten best versions of “Box of Rain.” Here are Phil’s “Seastones” experiments with Ned Lagin, his trumpet solo on “Born Cross Eyed,” some of his most recent recordings as well as the earliest known, a piece of real-gone beatnik jazz from 1959.  I’ve also included a few tracks from his post-Grateful Dead career as well.  The rotating cast of musicians that make up his “Friends” in Phil Lesh and Friends have featured some talented hands: Warren Haynes, Chris Robinson, Trey Anastasio, Larry Campbell, John Molo, as well as a young firebrand from Sacramento named Jackie Green.

I included a spunky version of “Wave to the Wind” — the much-reviled song was a continuous work in progress between 1992 and 1994.  “Wave” was an ambitious tune that never really landed with the audience.  This version is as good as they come, and the “Terrapin Station” that follows is one for the ages. Also from 1994 is an acoustic rendition of another Phil composition, “Childhood’s End” — a really cool tune that never had the chance to develop, arriving late in the repertoire and being played only a handful of times.

Instead of the usual end-of-the-tour encore “Brokedown Palace,” Jerry opted for the somber “Black Muddy River” on that July 4th night at Soldier Field.  After a horrible tour and with Garcia’s physical deterioration on full display, Phil couldn’t leave it at that.  He rallied the band together and performed a strong “Box of Rain” as a second encore to ascend into the Chicago air.  The Grateful Dead ended their final show with these words: “Such a long time to be gone, and a short time to be there.”  Phil Lesh, now older than my father’s father, continues to play rock and roll and make generations dance, laugh, and smile.  Thanks for the music, Mr. Lesh.

“Finnegan’s Awake” Phil Lesh – Lead Trumpet, Arranger and Composer, San Mateo College Jazz Band 4/5/1959

“Born Cross Eyed” (single version) Grateful Dead 1967

“Childhood’s End” Phil, Jerry, Bobby, Vince acoustic Berkeley 1994

“Cumberland Blues” Grateful Dead  Europe 72

Phil Speaks

“Box of Rain” Grateful Dead, Hampton 1988

“Pride of Cucamonga” Further, New York City 2010

“Unbroken Chain” Phil Lesh and Friends, San Francisco 2004

“New Potato Caboose” Grateful Dead, Los Angeles 1967

“Dark Star>

Mind Left Body Jam>

Dark Star Jam>

Eyes of the World” Grateful Dead, Wisconsin 1973

“The Other One” Grateful Dead, Eugene 1978

“Viola Lee Blues” Phil Lesh and Friends, San Francisco 2004

“Wave To the Wind>

Terrapin Station” Grateful Dead, Indiana 1993

“Brown Eyed Women” Phil Lesh and Friends, San Francisco 2008

“Philo Jam” (“Dark Star” excerpt) Cleveland 1972

“Shakedown Street” Grateful Dead with Branford Marsalis, New York City 1991

“Seastones Jam>Playing In the Band” Paris 1974

“Patchwork Quilt” Phil Lesh and Friends, There And Back Again

“Til the Morning Comes” Further, Asheville 2009

“Attics of My Life” Grateful Dead, American Beauty

Stravinsky’s “Infernal Dances” (from The Firebird Suite) Phil Lesh conducting the Berkeley Symphony Orchestra 1994

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In 1979, musician and longtime Dead fan, Toni Brown took over the editor’s chair at Relix (they dropped the “Dead” after the first few issues). Over the years, it became the premier source of coverage not only for the Grateful Dead, but it also helped launched the “jam band” scene that would flourish in the ’90s.

Toni Brown and her husband and co-editor Ed Munson have compiled 20 years of Relix interviews, features, artwork and photographs into Relix: The Book.  It’s the next best thing to having the whole Relix archive for your perusal.

Toni is also an accomplished singer and songwriter, and she and Ed have just released State of Mind, the latest entry in her discography. State of Mind is the first recorded document of their musical partnership. It’s an acoustic Sunday morning coffee and reefer kind of record that features a couple Garcia/Hunter tunes along with her own well-crafted originals.

Toni was kind enough to answer a few questions about her days as Queen of the Deadheads and den mother to the burgeoning jam band scene.

Relix Magazine began as “Dead Relix” and it began as a way for the taping community to get together and trade music. The tapers are a huge part of the Grateful Dead’s legacy, as well as the “ritual” of sharing the music. Now that we have immediate access to just about every concert the Grateful Dead ever performed, does being a Deadhead feel less communal than it used to?

It feels MORE communal now, by far. The “ritual” wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Taping wasn’t allowed in the early years, and people had to sneak in archaic technology, fighting their way the whole time, and then the batteries would die…

Social network sites such as Facebook put everyone in instant communication, something we could never have dreamed possible. With the Internet, our entire community is linked on every level. To get out the word about a show, share a setlist or even pass on the whole show, find a ride, or an extra ticket…it is now possible. It’s very exciting, and actually energizes the scene tremendously.

When did you become the editor of Relix?

I met the founder of Relix, Les Kippel, in the mid-1970s. We were around the same music scene, and eventually gravitated together for some divine purpose. Editor Jeff Tamarkin took leave of his editorial position, and Les handed the magazine over to me in 1979.

When you assembled the book did you find anything that maybe resonated with you on a different level now than when you first published it?

Everything resonated with me differently. It was like having seen a movie before–I knew the ending, and now I got the story. Being IN Relix was overwhelming, a constant influx of everything. I worked with over a hundred freelance contributors–editorial, photos, art, handled advertising, directed layout, proofread…had an autistic kid, a touring band, an independent publicity company, co-owned a record label and a merchandising company. I don’t think I knew what was happening even when it was happening.

While developing the book project, I had to come up with a direction. I sat down with Vol. 1 #1, and started reading. I swear, Ed (co-editor, husband, and musical partner Ed Munson) and I used thousands of post-its in the process of putting the book together. While reading 27 years of Relix, every word published (which took me weeks, by the way), it occurred to me that this book had to be about the Grateful Dead and their extended family, and not just about music. That’s what the magazine was to me, and that’s what its roots were steeped in. And though we included all genres of music in our pages, it always came back to the heart of it, and that was the Deadheads. Even above the band, it was about us.

How receptive were the Dead to Relix?

In the beginning, The Dead did not allow the taping of their shows. It was the road crew’s job to stop it, and Relix came under fire for causing the ripple effect of taper growth. I personally don’t think the band would have reached as large a fan base had it not been for the tapers, and subsequently, the early days of Relix. By the time I came on the scene, the Dead had already gotten over it, going so far as to set up a taper section.

In the years before Jerry Garcia passed on, there were some very dark days for the band and the fans alike. Onstage there was Jerry’s declining health, but out in the crowds you also had gate crashers and DEA agents working undercover at shows. A lot of heads were subjected to “Mandatory Minimums” which meant severe penalties for minor and first time drug offenses. What it like when you had to start reporting more and more bad news within the scene?

I was criticized over the years for keeping Relix in a happy place. I didn’t like to include negative criticism of anything. To write a bad review of a band took away from space where we could write a good review of another band. Bad reviews could also hurt a band, and I just couldn’t be part of that.

I did share news from the Grateful Dead about keeping the scene clean, got the word out about safety concerns and such. But when letters started multiplying from Deadheads in prison, I was overwhelmed. There was a very sudden increase in the obvious targeting of Deadheads by the DEA. Mandatory Minimums became the darkest problem to cross my desk, and I had no choice but to deal with it aggressively. I gave a lot of space to this matter, and also took it on personally by appearing all over the media with the story of the DEA’s programs that went after the easiest busts…Deadheads. Instead of working on street crime, it was so much easier for them to go after a bunch of hippies. I answered every letter I got from an incarcerated Deadhead, provided a forum for their letters and encouraged correspondence between readers and their downed brothers and sisters. I wrote many letters of recommendation in an effort to get folks shorter sentences, I worked with Families Against Mandatory Minimums (FAMM), and tried to fight “the man.”

This all came around following the release and subsequent success of the Grateful Dead’s In the Dark. All parking lot activity eventually had to be shut down as the number of people showing up at shows without tickets increased. The Deadhead family shifted, lots of older heads were fed up with not being able to get tickets, and a lot of the newer “heads” weren’t necessarily there to be good scouts, or even for the music. In the Dark…Dark days, indeed. I’d like to say it got better, but it didn’t…

Garcia cover drawn by George "Commander Cody" Frayne

I came on the scene late in the game – 1991 was my first show. I remember hearing about bad scenes in the parking lot and always feeling like “Well, I’m not part of the problem” but it was everyone’s problem and a lot of the younger kids didn’t know quite how to “police” themselves. But with so many new and young fans, do you think that inspired the band in a way? There were all sorts of song break-outs and new songs that came up in the latter days of the band.

I don’t think the band was as inspired as they were tired. Bringing out new and retired material was likely a way for them to refresh their musical approaches. The scene in the parking lot was very draining on everyone–the band and crew, the fans, the towns visited. The band had outgrown the largest venues, and with the problems surrounding the scene, more and more places were closing their doors to us. The Dead wrote letters of concern to the Deadheads, which they asked us to include in Relix. It was a significant way for them to correspond with the fans.

Long before we had Facebook or MySpace, we had the classifieds in the back of Relix magazine!

Relix was a wonderful resource, and I recognized the importance of the classifieds back before the Internet, even before personal computers. What started as a way for tapers to connect evolved into a forum for people to link on many levels. Readers wrote me about meeting and marrying people they met in the classifieds. Pictures of their kids can be found throughout the “We Are Everywhere” photos I’d run each year. It became a place to find traveling companions, friends in isolated locations, places to connect all over the world. I had to expand the classifieds to a second column just to accommodate the incarcerated Deadheads’ listings, which became a story in itself. Many happy endings, some heartaches, I read every letter that came in, and typed out every classified. It was one way to get an intimate glimpse into who was reading the magazine.

Relix has always been a big part of the whole “culture” of live music, and it has always tried to shine a light on all kinds of musical corners, and even now, I find myself always learning about new bands from Relix. Were there any young bands that you really wanted to try and help give exposure to through Relix?

There were hundreds of bands that I recognized as special. My reviewer, Mick Skidmore, did a fantastic job of helping me sort through it all. In fact, that’s what gave way to what became the jamband scene, the recognition of bands that were somehow inspired by the previous generation of exploratory/improvisational music. As I gave more and more space over to new and unknown bands, the scene emerged and bands would tell me they were developing fan bases due to their exposure in Relix. That was encouraging. A great club opened in New York, Wetlands Preserve. The owner had intended to keep it low key, but I put it in his ear to bring in live music in my never-ending effort to get the bands I worked with into the scheme…New Riders, Hot Tuna, David LaFlamme, Merl Saunders, Steve Kimock…and it became an amazing spot for people to go. I met and started working with Blues Traveler, Phish, Widespread Panic, Spin Doctors, Warren Haynes, Joan Osborne…so many artists that went on to spectacular careers. But there were so many other bands.

I had the privilege to really work with Max Creek, Zen Tricksters, Solar Circus, Juggling Suns, Tiberius, Living Earth, Oroboros, Sandoz, Stackabones, on and on…all the while creating a niche for a music scene that grew tendrils, and which is now a bigger-than-life force known as the jamband scene—including every Dead cover band, because although they’re recreating music that was done before, but they’re putting their own spin on it. So it evolves, and the sound is ever-changing. Even my own covers of the Dead’s music are very far from the originals, and I’ve been there since the early days-1969, in fact. I just hear it my own way. And so it grows…

Relix also had a sidearm record label and released great albums by everyone from (former Grateful Dead keyboardist) Tom Constanten to guys like Steve “Muruga” Booker (who played drums for Parliament Funkadelic among others), what became of the Relix Records label?

Relix Records was part of the sale of Relix Magazine. The current Relix folks include a CD with every issue, a nice way to taste much of the music they write about. Having a record label in this day and age is difficult, everything is available through downloads, and there isn’t enough money to make it worth the effort. It was a tough go even back when we started up in 1980 at the urging of Robert Hunter.

The fact that Relix was the gateway to taping didn’t help us sell records. But in the days of vinyl, there were some gimmicks we could use to tantalize the die-hards. Picture discs with an artist’s signature were pretty cool. Good cover art helped. When we transferred over to CD (one of the first indie labels to do so), it was a little better, and easier to ship. But it was always a struggle to make money. It was a weird cycle of the magazine supporting the artists on the label, and the artists on the label making the news we’d find fit to print.

When you stepped down from the editorial helm, what did you do afterward?

Relix was my life, and it was also tied into my identity as a performer. Selling it and being closed out really hit hard. I sat on the couch for a couple of years, wondering what hit me. I’d moved to Orlando for a variety of reasons, and it took me awhile to get into the swing of life-after-Relix. A fan recognized me at the gym and introduced me to the jamband scene here in Florida. It got me back out, and I became a regular, playing solo between sets for the best bands in town. I picked up a bunch of shows at Hard Rock Live and started rebuilding a life. Life after Relix…It’s been ten years already, and the Relix book helped provide amazing closure for me. It made me take a good look at what the magazine was, what it provided to the community, and what I did personally to keep the scene evolving.

Toni Brown live

What would you say is your proudest Relix accomplishment?

Getting out alive…laughs…Seriously, I feel like I’ve played an important part in linking a family in music, love and light. I probably couldn’t have said that a year ago, but after absorbing all that I put into Relix, it’s clear that it was bigger than me or a band or a handful of fans. It was and is a community that thrives, connected in thought, lifestyle, spirit, politics and, of course, music.

I am very proud of a few things I was able to accomplish through the magazine. We featured a column called “Eyes of the World” which provided readers with important environmental information, inspired by the Grateful Dead who stepped up to fight the destruction of the Rainforests. I saw a much bigger picture, and used our platform to share ways we could each make a difference…leave only footprints. I am also proud of my efforts in the fight on the unjust War on Drugs. And most of all, we supported a significant number of musicians over the years, and I’m still actively doing so.

Tell me about your own musical career.

I started singing when I was 12. Got a guitar, which I didn’t learn how to play until my sister learned first. Ah, sibling rivalry. Actually, it was Robert Hunter who kicked me into gear. We got pretty friendly while working on his tours and promotion, and he knew I was a wannabe songwriter. He came to play at Town Hall in New York with a Takamine guitar that Garcia had given him. The pickup had stopped working, and he had to get a new guitar to finish his tour. He gave the Takamine to me, and told me to learn how to play it so I could put music to my lyrics. I did and I did.

I sang with some of the bands I knew–New Riders, Merl Saunders, Zen Tricksters, Juggling Suns, Living Earth, Stackabones–just nice and easy. Then I saw Joan Osborne starting out, and she blew me away. I realized I really wanted to do this music thing. In the 1995, the David Nelson Band was touring on the east coast, and had a few open nights. They suggested we go into the studio to track some of my songs! I hired a porta-studio, and brought in my pal, Michael Falzarano (Hot Tuna, New Riders of the Purple Sage), to produce some tracks. We did some of my songs, and it went into limbo while the Dave Nelson Band went back on the road. Then Jerry Garcia died. Big reality check for us all. Everyone got busy at that point, trying to pack some smiles into the devastated community. We finished my first CD, Blue Morning. By then, I’d decided to add some Dead covers to heal my inner pain. “Box of Rain,” “The Wheel” (“if the thunder don’t getcha…”) and “Morning Dew” made it onto the release. Jorma Kaukonen added some guitar to “Morning Dew.” I put a band together, and we hit the road. In the wake of Garcia’s death, the growth in the live music scene blossomed. The money that had been going to the Dead over their many years was now loosened up, and the festival scene flourished. It’s been growing ever since.

When I sold Relix, I put my life on hold for a couple of years, needed to catch my breath. I moved to Orlando, and met up with the jamband scene. I got out solo, did some tours with Tom Constanten, and found myself playing with some good Florida musicians.

I met Ed Munson in 2005, and here we are, a happily married musical partnership. We’re connecting with Deadheads internationally, and we play regularly in the southeast. We’re booked through the summer on the east coast, and we’ll be heading out west sooner or later. We’re very connected to the energy that comes our way, something I believe comes with age and experience. We pay attention, and when the right doors open, we know which way to go.

Toni Brown and Ed Munson – “Mountains of the Moon”

Phil Lesh is turning 70 years old in March. In 1969 when you saw the Dead, did you ever imagine that these cats would be still rocking and rolling over 40 years later?

They were immediately timeless to me…what I didn’t imagine was that I would still be rocking over 40 years later. I have been inspired so deeply that I can still dance old age away!

In closing, this long process called life has taught me one valuable lesson…don’t take anything for granted. “Live each day, could be your last, and keep your foot pressed on the gas!” Toni Brown – Live Dead Dance

You can purchase copies of Relix The Book and State of Mind from www.tonibrownband.com.

Hey gang, sorry it’s been so long since we last rapped, but things have been way hectic. I finally cut my hair and got myself a respectful 9-5. Actually more like a 9 – 9. But it’s been all good in the hood. Hopefully in the coming months I won’t be so much of a stranger!  Today we’re looking at the latest Grateful Dead Box Set from Rhino – Winterland June 77 – The Complete Recordings. (next week I’ll be talking about the new Jerry Garcia Band set, also from Rhino).

“A lot of Dead Heads say ’77 is their favorite year. And of these shows, the first night is a Top 15, the second is a Top 10, and the third is a Top 3.” - David Lemieux, Grateful Dead Archivist.

At the end of 1974, the band took a much-needed break from touring. 1975 saw the release of the ambitious Blues for Allah album and in 1976, the band returned to the road, refreshed and ready to rock.

By 1977, the band were firing on all cylinders. The band had introduced some new songs to the repitoire – Jerry Garcia’s proggy “Terrapin Station” and Bob Weir’s “Estimated Prophet,” which, along with Jerry’s “Fire on the Mountain,” featured a cool reggae vibe. “Fire” found its niche, being paired up with the breezy “Scarlet Begonias” – a duo that would become a highlight of the band’s concerts right up to the end.

Spring tour kicked off on April 22nd at the Philly Spectrum, and through the next six weeks, the band was playing tight and focused concerts each night. While it’s hard to find an “off night” during the tour, May 8th 1977 at Cornell has long been heralded as “the one” — the band’s finest concert. While it is definitely a five star, Grand Cru performance, my favorite show of the mighty spring 1977 tour is the tour finale on June 9th at the band’s homebase — Winterland.

The first set absolutely smokes. Every song is a top ten rendition with my vote for the best ever renditions of “The Music Never Stopped,” the funky “They Love Each Other” and the downright dirtiest and grittiest version of Jerry’s murder ballad — “Loser.”

But the second set is where it’s at. The setlist reads like a greatest hits album. David Fricke hailed the second set as the band’s best ever, calling it “an instant opera of spiritual biography…”

After a rousing “Samson and Delilah,” Weir informs the audience that they’re experiencing some sound problems with the vocal monitors. (While the soundcrew works out the problem, Jerry leads the band through a bouncy workout of “Funiculi Funicula.”) With the sound problems taken care of, the band launches into the triptych of “Help on the Way,” “Slipknot!” and “Franklin’s Tower” — “Help” is dynamic and sharp, but the “Slipknot” bridge clocks it at a full eight minutes of downright wicked and serpentine jamming. The “Franklin’s Tower” that culminates is close to perfect.

“Estimated Prophet” follows, and bubbles into a ferocious “St. Stephen” that crackles with that primal 1968 energy before roaring into “Not Fade Away” and then back into the climax of “St. Stephen.” Whew!  The stirring “Terrapin Station” and the spirited “Sugar Magnolia” that close out the set are as satisfying as they come.

Needless to say, this is one of those shows that I have listened to over and over again — driving to work, relaxing with headphones, on airplanes, on trains. I have no problem with calling it out as one of my all-time favorites, so when I heard that Rhino’s next “big box” was going to be the whole three-night stand at Winterland, June 6-9th, 1977, I was pretty damn excited.

Among the reasons as to why the 1977 spring tour is so venerated among fans is the fact that great-sounding tapes of many of the shows have been in circulation for many years and were among some of the first shows that novice Heads listened to on tape. Even the shittiest-sounding audience recording of the tour still sounds pretty damn good. Fan-made audio remasters of many shows, with gorgeous and crystal clear sound, exist in the band’s archive.

So once again, Rhino has the unenviable task of taking music that was essentially free to anyone with the blanks and postage, packaging it, and slapping a big ol’ ($99.99) pricetag on it. The Winterland 1973 box sounded incredible and was a huge improvement over the somewhat muddy-sounding boards that had made the rounds. Taking the already bright-sounding tapes of some seminal 77 vintage Dead and improving upon what is already out there would be a pretty big feat. However, the High-Def transfer from the original reels is shockingly good. The somewhat “claustrophobic” soundboards are given much more room to breathe. There’s a lot more ambiance in the room and more audience in the mix.

Is it one hundred dollars good? Well, that’s hard to say. A lot of people are more than ready to shell out the bucks for a package this high quality, while other folks will just hang on to their tapes and FLAC files. The music is out there, if you look hard enough. The booklet and box are both beautifully made and presented and include some great photos and the aforementioned David Fricke essay.

While June 9th sounds better than ever, the other two nights sound equally brilliant and are no less inspired. June 7th features a couplet of “Scarlet Begonias” and “Fire on the Mountain” that goes toe to toe with the highly regarded May 8^th version. This show also features one of only four times where the band performed “Terrapin Station” linked into “Morning Dew.” “Morning Dew” rising like a shadow from the triumphant refrain of “Terrapin” is truly dramatic. It’s as beautiful a version as they come. Jerry’s soloing intermixing with Keith’s gentle piano before building up to a fiery climax.

June 8th sports a note-perfect first set and a nearly-twenty minute “Eyes of the World” becomes the centerpiece of the second set. It stretches out with some truly inspired playing by everyone. This is that “X-Factor” that folks talk about. The jazz-fusion chops that the band honed during their marathon jams in the early 70s are crystallized into a free and easy groove.

While “Dark Star” didn’t resurface for many years after the band’s hiatus, “The Other One” became a fairly regular part of the band’s second set. This “Other One” smolders under a lengthy guitar workout that tapers off into some truly sweet and delicate exploration. Garcia’s guitar notes fluttering like a moth around a candle. Keith’s piano making chase. Bobby’s guitar making trippy swells of sound.

Early orders for the box received a bonus disc – the incomplete soundboard reels from May 12th at Chicago’s Auditorium Theater. A creaky audience recording has been in circulation for years, but the soundboards have never surfaced until now. It features loads of jamming and an oh so sweet “Comes a Time” – a song that never became part of the band’s permanent rotation, but was played out more often in spring of 1977 than any other time.  Just another reason why this was such a magical and inspired time for the Grateful Dead.

In the spring of 1971, Grateful Dead keyboardist Tom Constanten, along with the band Touchstone, produced and performed the music for an off-broadway show at the Circle in the Square in New York City.

The performance was called Tarot and the music was later recorded and released in 1972 on United Artists. The performance and resulting album both fell into obscurity and is now highly sought-after by collectors of rare prog and psychedelia.

On April 28th, 1971, Tom Constanten sat in with his former bandmates at the Fillmore East, and afterwards, Jerry Garcia, Phil Lesh, and Mickey Hart joined T.C. at Electric Ladyland Studios and recorded the following tracks. Called The Tarot Outtakes by tape collectors of yore , they are a true curiosity in the world of Grateful Dead tape collecting.

The pieces are all instrumental and feature baroque string and violin arrangements (performed presumably by Touchstone’s Art Fayer), and some interesting playing by Garcia, Lesh and Hart. A few of the passages skirt themes that resemble “Unbroken Chain” and “Morning Dew” and, according to the Deadhead’s Taping Compendium, some of these pieces would later appear again on Mickey Hart’s lost album The Silent Flute. Phil’s own compositional ideas here (inspired by his old friend Constanten) would later mature into his “Warp Ten” collaborations with Ned Lagin and the Seastones album.

Tarot Outtakes Part One
Track 1
Track 2
Track 3
Track 4
Track 5
Track 6
Track 7
Track 8
Track 9
Tarot Outtakes Part Two
Track 1

Tom Constanten brought a versatile influence to the band during their primal years. He brought in avant garde prepared piano on Anthem of the Sun, but applied a classical flourish to many of the songs on Aoxomoxoa — especially his harpischord work on “Mountains of the Moon.”

T.C. has kept busy, releasing a string of albums through the ’90s and working with other bands such as Terrapin Flyer, Dark Star Orchestra, and his collaboration with Dead digital sound designer Bob Bralove, Dose Hermanos.

Also, here is Touchstone’s 1972 Tarot – Original Cast Recording LP for your listening pleasure.

Enjoy the tunes, and I’ll meet you back here in a couple weeks.

A little over a year ago, the possibility of a Phish reunion was the stuff of parking lot rumor and message board postings. When they took the stage at Hampton back in March and played those opening notes to “Fluffhead,” 2009 officially became the year of Phish.

Somehow, between jamming with Bruce Springsteen at Bonnaroo and playing consistently sold-out nights, they managed to record a new album with old friend Steve Lilywhite. Joy is their first studio outing since the weary Undermind back in 2004.

Phish’s studio track record has been fairly strong and Joy could be the best of them yet. It’s a concise collection of tunes that finds the band working without obligation or expectation. Most of all, they genuinely sound like they’re having fun on new rockers like “Backwards Down the Number Line” and Mike Gordon’s tropical-jam “Sugar Shack.” There’s also a prevalent nostalgia and wistful quality to songs like “Joy,” where the band seems to address the fans directly with the line, “this is your song too…”

Phish are hosting their first festival since Coventry – three days over the Halloween weekend in Indio, California. There has been a lot of speculation as to what the “Musical Costume” will be for their first post-hiatus Halloween.

In the past, Phish have covered Remain in Light, The White Album, Dark Side of the Moon, Quadrophenia, and The Velvet Underground’s Loaded. A lot of folks are expecting a Grateful Dead set for their first California Halloween, or possibly a Doors record, but I put together a list of five albums that I would like to see Phish perform…

1. Big Star – Third/Sister Lovers
It’s easy for me to imagine a barber shop quartet rendition of “Big Black Car” and a jammed-out “Kanga Roo,” but the thought of Paige bringing down the house with a solo reading of “Holocaust” gives me goosebumps.
Why they probably won’t do it: It’s a little too straightforward a collection of songs. Also, a bazillion Phish fans could swarm the upcoming Big Star reunion shows and turn it into a patchouli-scented riot of unprecedented proportion.

2. Pink Floyd – Meddle
Just how sick would that funky-ass bass jam part in the middle of “Echoes” be?! Also “San Tropez” is an absolute given.
Why they probably won’t do it: Too easy. They’ve done a Floyd album already, and besides, it would be too damn obvious.

3. Rolling Stones – Exile on Main Street or Sticky Fingers
“Loving Cup” has been in Phish’s sets for years. Either album would be a fine candidate. They could bring out The Giant Country Horns for “Bitch” and I can only imagine what the boys could do with “Rocks Off.”
Why they probably won’t do it: I actually think either album could be a possibility.

4. Grateful Dead – Blues for Allah
While there has been a lot of talk about Phish covering a Dead album (and according to some people, Bobby and Phil will be guesting), I can’t really see them doing it. However, if the boys did a Grateful Dead album, their 1975 concept album Blues for Allah would be a sound choice. It’s a brief album of fan favorites, instrumental interludes, and bouncy jazzy jams.
Why they probably won’t do it: It’s just too over the top. While members of Phish have collaborated with members of the Dead in various side projects, Phish were dogged by Grateful Dead comparisons for years.

5. Neil Young and Crazy Horse – Rust Never Sleeps
Phish would get to show off their acoustic chops with “Thrasher” and “Powderfinger” and kick out the jams with “Sedan Delivery” which could end up into a furious reprise of “Tweezer” or something. Think about it; it could be brilliant. I would have picked Zuma, but no one needs to cover “Cortez the Killer” again.
Why they probably won’t do it: It’s actually a pretty short album and Mike Gordon singing “Welfare Mothers”…it might be better to put on a list of why they shouldn’t do it.

Other albums I wrote down…

Sonic Youth - Daydream Nation
The Monks – Black Monk Time
Jimi Hendrix – Electric Ladyland
Kiss – Dynasty
Black Sabbath – Sabotage

“But there was something else tugging at Garcia as 1964 turned into 1965. For one thing, like half of America under the age of 25, Jerry had been seduced by the Beatles, especially their film, A Hard Day’s Night, which depicted life in a rock and roll band as just about the most fun that could be had on planet earth. the Beatles were deliciously irreverent and in-your-face anarchic; untamable gadabouts on an endless lark, always living in a completely different universe than the pitiable straight forces that were constantly trying to control, or at the very least, restrain them…” –from Garcia: An American Life by Blair Jackson

Grateful Dead – Why Don’t We Do It In the Road?” 4/7/85 Philly Spectrum

Grateful Dead – “Day Tripper” 12/28/84 SF Civic Auditorium

Grateful Dead – “I Want to Tell You” 10/15/94 Madison Square Garden

Phil Lesh and Friends – “She Said, She Said” 11/30/04 Tower Theater

Deadheads for Obama – “Come Together” 2/4/08 The Warfield
Phil, Bobby and Mickey were joined by Jackie Greene, John Molo, and Steve Molitz.

The Valentines – “Tomorrow Never Knows” 8/27/94 Fukuoka Dome
The Valentines were a short-lived group consisting of Bob Weir, Vince Welnick, guitarist Henry Kaiser, Prairie Prince and Bobby Vega. They played a couple nights in Japan and then one more show at The Fillmore in San Francisco.

Grateful Dead – “Rain” 4/1/94 Nassau Colliseum

Grateful Dead – “Revolution” 4/8/85 Philly Spectrum

Grateful Dead – “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” 5/23/93 Shoreline

Jerry Garcia Band – “Eleanor Rigby Jam” 2/28/80

Jerry Garcia Band – “Dear Prudence” Spring 1990 The Warfield

Grateful Dead – “It’s All Too Much” 3/26/95 The Omni

Grateful Dead – “Hey Jude” 2/11/69 Fillmore East

Bonus Tracks

Phil Lesh and Friends – “Imagine” 12/19/04 The Warfield
featuring Gloria Jones and Jackie La Branch

Grateful Dead – “That Would Be Something” 4/1/94 Nassau Colliseum
Garcia would occasionally insert this brief Paul McCartney tune into jams coming in and out of space…

Somewhere between Burlington and Denver, Asheville and Brooklyn. In a Between the Rainbow bus, the disco van, and the drum circle. Beyond the hula hooping sistas and the guy with the didgeridoo. Just past the hemp jewelry, the h3tty crystal wraps, the miracle seekers, the dreadies with the ice cold sammies and kind veggie burritos, you might find intrepid writer J.J. Colagrande. He’s been on the road for a long time and he’s taken his experiences on Phish tours, at the music festies, and in the vibrant culture and community that goes along with it into his first novel, Headz.

Headz is a rambling, ambling read – told through the point of view of different characters – “Heads” themselves from all over the country. Their collective paths all leading to Soldier Field for “Oracledang” — and what’s “Oracledang,” you ask? Why, it’s only the biggest festie of them all.

It’s no coincidence that Soldier Field was the site of the last Grateful Dead concert in 1995. During that shitty, yet bittersweet summer, a legion of people who had followed the psychedelic stalwarts suddenly realized that the road ended there. A lot of them turned their nomadic compasses towards the traveling carnival that was Phish and the rest of the bands on that bleary “jam” horizon, but others  found and founded new scenes – indie, hip hop, turntablism, whatever.

What makes the festival scene thrive and vibe isn’t that neo-hippy devotionism, it’s not that longing to connect with a rose-colored view of the sixties that our parents (grandparents) and media have dangled in front of us. While the music industry continues to pump out manufactured musical product and suffers amid middling sales, the draw of the music festival is irresistible for someone who wants something real, a feeling that you don’t get peeling the plastic wrap off a CD bought at some box store or downloaded into a portable device. They want illumination and transcendence and that sense of community, but enough of my yakkin’ – Thelonius Horowitz says it better -

“Getting down on the get down. I hate having to explain it. The music’s all sorts of sorts of music too. Don’t make me put a label on it. Besides, music festivals are so much more than the music. It’s the journey it takes getting to the music fest. It’s the parking lot outside the music fest. The parking lot is like a Mecca, the ends to a pilgrimage. It’s our holy place, our Zion, our home. Rainbow style, son. By the time we get inside the music festival our heads are in a different place. It’s the couple of hours in the parking lot that really matter. That’s where the real story lies. I totally hate having to explain it, even to Teflon. It’s like you’re on the bus or you’re off the bus, but no matter what, this thing is continuing, whether you like it or not…”

J.J. Colagrande himself sends me emails from the road.

“I’m in Denver,” he writes, “lurking around the VIP tent, dropping off books on tables, sneak attack style. (I’m a firm believer a book will find a person when the person is ready to find the book)…It’s funny how the Universe delivers.“

“Here’s the thing. It could be argued that a hip hop act, or a rock act, defies the jamband mentality of a festie, but on the contrary, their presence stand as a testament to its evolution. Music festivals have opened up to all genres, possibly helping to bridge what could be defined as America’s culture wars. There have always been too many labels, genres, cliques, and crews. Hip-hop, hippie jamband, electronica, rock, reggae, indie, punk, ska. The one thing all these cliques have in common is an independent spirit. This spirit represents the soul of the festival. It carries tens of thousands of people half way around the country. The organizers are well aware of this spirit when they choose their bands. I’d like to think they are aware that this is evolution, and not just a means to draw more people. For I really believe that music can bring people together, and the more different the people, the more we realize that we are all the same people, and that’s evolution.“

I had the chance to send J.J. a few questions by email and we also collaborated on a mix of tunes. I would much rather have had the opportunity to sit down with him and talk at length about tour stories, favorite shows, set lists, mix tapes, all over cold Magic Hat Number Nines – that apricot perfumed ale that was the hallmark of the closing stretch of my life-changing road trip last summer and is also pictured on the cover of the Headz.

How long did it take you to write Headz?

The composition of Headz took me five years, working four to six hours a day, pretty much every day. Sometimes I wrote for 12 hours in a single day. I would eat, of course, and take my dog Irie out for walks, or swim or ride bike to the beach for a break, but mainly life was all about Headz. And then it took two more years to find a publisher. So, all in all, seven years.

Talk a little bit about your creative process.

On one hand, I see writing as this mystical, spiritual process where you let go, surrendering to a force that allows you to open up to these divine energies that move through you as if you were an oracle. Some call this the muse. I’ve heard Joanne Kyger (a great writer and ex-wife of Gary Snyder, another great writer) call it the flow. It’s a cool part of the creative process, whatever you call it, because you do indeed become disconnected from time and space as you immerse yourself in the world you create, and it does flow. Now, on the other hand, I also see writing as a craft. This means that there is no process other than a strict regimented disciplined work ethic. Writing is a constant act of re-writing and revision, and therefore it is merely work. And hard work at that!!

What was harder to do? Starting the book or ending it?

The book was harder to start because I have a lot of characters and my challenge was to keep them moving forward towards the show, Oracledang, and not get sidetracked in their respective histories and dramas. The majority of my revision was spent on that laborious task.

What are you working on now?

I’m teaching six classes this fall. Four at Miami Dade College, and two at Barry University. I’m also promoting, marketing, and distributing Headz all by little old self, so most of my creative energy is going to that, but I do have a collection of stories ready to publish, and an outline for another novel. I may even write a sequel to Headz because there is room, and more story to tell. My goal is to sell a couple of thousand copies of Headz, then go to NYC and say look what I did, look what I have, there is an interest in this culture and world, now take it off my hands so I can go back to the creative stuff. But, it’s all good. Writing, like life, has always been about the journey, not the destination; that is actually a major theme of the novel .

Talk a little bit about each character.

Thelonious Horowitz is a cross between the Beastie Boys and Holden Caulfield. He speaks in a colloquial NYC hip- hop tongue. He’s musically talented  cocky, popular, bipolar, and the story’s central character, more by necessity than my personal authorial choice.

The Beastie Boys – “So Whatcha Want?”

The Beastie Boys – “Shambhala”

Teflon Jones is one of Thelonious’s best friends, and he’s called Teflon cuz nothing sticks to him. He’s as smooth as butter. I love Teflon.

Gang Starr – “You Know My Steez”

Soundtribe Sector Nine featuring Mr. Lif – “Possibilities”

KC McGovern is a beautiful young writer who believes in dreaming, no matter what. I, as the author, personally have a crush on her.

Spiral System – “Elephant”

Kurtis is this dreadie trickster from Miami, also a good friend of Thelonious from seeing shows together over the years.

Phish – “Run Like an Antelope” (4/16/92)

Phish – “Fee > Maze” (4/16/92)

Geri (I named her after Jerry Garcia) is Kurtis’s girlfriend and a sewing diva. Geri can create amazing crafts with a needle.

Rachel Goodrich – “Light Bulb”

Kate Gaffney – “Soul Shine”

Sky Tyler is a tree-hugging, save-the-world activist from San Francisco who sort of falls in with a bad crowd.

Massive Attack – “Angel”

Melody Rain is Sky’s girlfriend, and also Thelonious’s ex. She has a dark side that is ugly as fuck, if you explore it.

Grateful Dead – “Let it Grow” (3/14/90)

Keith Lipsiznowaz is a bumbling yoga instructor from SF who is as grounded as can be, except in the face of love, where he becomes a bit of an emotional invalid.

Bjork – “All Is Full of Love”

Mediski, Martin & Wood – “Dracula” (Remix)

Shore Morris is the older, more seasoned veteran of the scene. He serves as a conveyor of information, and a positive role model, although he is a bit of an Anarchist. (I named him after George Bernard Shaw and William Morris, two influential Socialists in the U.K. during the 1890′s).

Grateful Dead – “St. Stephen > Not Fade Away > St. Stephen” (5/8/77)

Thanks, J.J. Anything else you’d like to add?

There is one more thing I’d like to emphasize, and that is the website, headzthenovel.com. The website is a full-feature addendum to the book, complete with 100 extra pages of text, and soon to be released features. I plan to record some of Thelonious’s music, as well as create Myspace and Facebook accounts for two or three of the fictional characters. I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing, but my intuition says the website is a key to doing something that hasn’t been done in literature, and that’s a very exciting thing…

How long did it take you to write Headz?
The composition of Headz took me 5 years, working 4 to 6 hours a day,
pretty much every day. Sometimes I wrote for 12 hours in a single day.
I would eat, of course, and take my dog Irie out for walks, or swim or
ride bike to the beach for a break, but mainly life was all about
Headz. And then it took two more years to find a publisher. So, all in
all, 7 years.

Talk a little bit about your creative process
This is a tricky question. On one hand, I see writing as this
mystical, spiritual process where you let go, surrendering to a force
that allows you to open up to these divine energies that move through you
as if you were an oracle. Some call this the muse. I've heard Joanne Kyger (a great
writer and ex-wife of Gary Snyder, another great writer) call it the flow.
It's a cool part of the creative process, whatever you call it, because
you do indeed become disconnected from time and space as you immerse
yourself in the world you create, and it does flow. Now, on the other hand,
I also see writing as a craft. This means that there is no process other than a
strict regimented disciplined work ethic. Writing is a constant act of
re-writing and revision, and therefore it is merely work. And hard work at that!! 

What was harder to do? Starting the book or ending it?
The book was harder to start because I have a lot of characters and my
challenge was to keep them moving forward towards the show,
Oracledang, and not get sidetracked in their respective histories and
dramas. The majority of my revision was spent on that laborious task.

What are you working on now?
I'm teaching 6 classes this Fall. Four at Miami Dade College, and two
at Barry University. I'm also promoting, marketing, and distributing
Headz all by little old self, so most of my creative energy is going
to that, but I do have a collection of stories ready to publish, and
an outline for another novel. I may even write a sequel to Headz
because there is room, and more story to tell. My goal is to sell a couple
of thousand copies of Headz, then go to NYC and say look what I did, look what I have,
there is an interest in this culture and world, now take it off my
hands so I  can go back to the creative stuff. But, it's all good.
Writing, like life, has always been about the journey, not the destination; that is
actually a major theme of the novel Headz.

Who is your favorite character in the book?
I love them all, but for different reasons. If you
put a gun to my head I'd have to say Keith, I think he's the most human . . .

Talk a little bit about each character
Thelonious Horowitz is a cross between the Beastie Boys and Holden
Caulfield. He speaks in a colloquial NYC hip- hop tongue. He's musically talented
cocky, popular, bipolar, and the story's central character,
more by necessity than my personal authorial choice.

Teflon Jones is one of Thelonious's best friends, and he's called
Teflon cuz nothing sticks to him. He's as smooth as butter. I love Teflon.

KC McGovern is a beautiful young writer who believes in dreaming, no
matter what. I, as the author, personally have a crush on her.

Kurtis is this dreadie trickster from Miami, also a good friend of
Thelonious from seeing shows together over the years.

Geri (I named her after Jerry Garcia) is Kurtis's girlfriend and a sewing
diva. Geri can create amazing crafts with a needle.

The Princess is our fish-out-water character. A suburban , spoiled
typically American beauty who is used to getting her way.

Sky Tyler is a tree-hugging, save-the-world activist from San Francisco
who sort of falls in with a bad crowd.

Melody Rain is Sky's girlfriend, and also Thelonious's ex. She has a
dark side that is ugly as fuck, if you explore it.

Keith Lipsiznowaz is a bumbling yoga instructor from SF who is as
grounded as can be, except in the face of love, where he becomes a bit
of an emotional invalid.

Shore Morris is the older, more seasoned veteran of the scene. He
serves as a conveyor of information, and a positive role model,
although he is a bit of an Anarchist. (I named him after George Bernard Shaw
and William Morris, two influential Socialists in the U.K. during the 1890's).

There is one more thing I'd like to emphasize, and that is the
website, headzthenovel.com   The website is a full-feature addendum to
the book, complete with 100 extra pages of text, and soon to be
released features. I plan to record some of Thelonious's music, as well
as create Myspace, and FB accounts for 2-3 of the fictional characters.
I'm not 100% sure what I'm doing but my
intuition says the website is a key to doing something that hasn't been
done in literature, and that's a very exciting thing ...

As people gather to celebrate the life of Jerry Garcia during the first week of August, I wanted to share a mix of tunes. Instead of the usual suspects like “Eyes of the World” or “Ripple,” I dug a little deeper and found some stuff that was a little off the beaten path.

You can read my “Jerry Post” from last summer here.

Enjoy the tunes and I’ll meet you back here next week.

““You need music, I dont know why. It’s probably one of those Joseph Campbell questions, why we need ritual. We need magic and bliss, and power and myth, and celebration and religion in our lives and music is a good way to encapsulate a lot of it.” - Jerry Garcia

The Grateful Dead – “Mountains of the Moon” from Aoxomoxoa original vinyl pressing
Jerry and Sara Garcia – “Deep Elem Blues” 5/4/63 The Tangent, Palo Alto
The Grateful Dead – “I Second That Emotion” 4/25/71 Fillmore East, New York
Jerry Garcia Band – “Shining Star” unknown date and venue 1993
Mother McCree’s Uptown Jug Champions – “Shake That Thing” 7/?/64 The Tangent, Palo Alto
Legion of Mary – “The Wicked Messenger” 4/19/75 Oriental Theater, Milwaukee
The Grateful Dead – “Morning Dew” 9/21/74 Palais Des Sports, Paris
Jerry Garcia and John Kahn – “Ruben and Cherise” 5/5/82 Oregon State Prison, Salem
The Grateful Dead – “Whiskey in the Jar” soundcheck 2/?/93

bonus track

Jerry’s Acid Test Commentary ca. 1967 (?)

The double album turns 30 this year. In upcoming installments of Test of the Boomerang, ‘ll be taking a look at the album’s creation, live spectacle, aftermath and legacy. In this first installment we’ll be looking at the long-storied origins of the album and sharing the band’s original demo recordings.

I. Origins

It’s one of the most repugnant tales in rock history: The final show of Pink Floyd’s “In the Flesh” tour, July 6th, 1977 in Montreal. Roger Waters had had quite enough. Floyd was performing in a stadium, fans were setting off fireworks during the quiet numbers, the sound was lousy, and finally, out of the roiling sea of people, a fan, imploring the band to play “Careful With That Axe Eugene,” clambered onto the stage, only to have Waters spit in his face.

Pink Floyd had come a long way from the spirited whimsy of “See Emily Play” just 10 years prior. 1977 saw the release of Animals – a visceral and venomous five-song diatribe on class and culture. After the worldwide success of Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here, the grislier Animals showed Roger Waters exerting himself more and more as band leader and the weightier themes on their new album suggested a pretension that was very unlike the zen parable simplicity of Dark Side’s best moments or Wish You Were Here’s built-in nostalgia.

Of course, after that summer day in Montreal, Roger Waters went home, horrified by his own behavior, picked up a guitar and began to write. He envisioned the alienation that he felt onstage as a wall separating the audience from the performers. Along with his burned-out rock star neuroses, Waters also added in a laundry list of other angst – his father’s death in World War II, his lonely childhood, his divorce from his wife, and some themes recalling Syd Barrett, again the missing muse.

Madness in all its forms has always been lyrical fodder for Pink Floyd. Even before it became the chief undercurrent of Dark Side of the Moon, Syd Barrett mused on his own dualism (and his leaving the band) on “Jugband Blues” back in 1968 (“…I’m wondering who could be writing this song…”), and Waters’ mournful “If” from 1970′s Atom Heart Mother featured the awkward confession, “If I go insane, please don’t put your wires in my brain.”

He brought two projects to the band – one would later become his 1984 solo album The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking, and the other would become The Wall. The band more or less agreed on The Wall and set about expanding on the project. This is The Wall in its infantile stages. Enjoy.

Pink Floyd – “The Wall” 1978 Demos

Disc One

In the Flesh, The Thin Ice, Another Brick in the Wall Part I, The Happiest Days of Our Lives, Another Brick in the Wall Part II, Mother, Goodbye Blue Sky, Empty Spaces Part I, Young Lust, One of My Turns. Don’t Leave Me Now, Empty Spaces Part II/What Shall We Do Now?, Another Brick in the Wall Part III

Disc Two

Is There Anybody Out There? Part I, Vera, Bring the Boys Back Home, Is There Anybody Out There? Part II, Is There Anybody Out There? Part III, Comfortably Numb, Hey You, The Show Must Go On, In the Flesh, Run Like Hell, Waiting for the Worms, Stop, The Trial, Outside the Wall

(files are zipped into .rar format)