Booche

Merry Xmas you fuckin' dinks. So glad this community is still alive because it's always been fun.

Think of it this way edger...... "Here's the one it's all about"

10-21-1983 – Brent Mydland’s 31st Bday A clearly amped up crowd is greeted with The Music Never Stopped and everyone showed their appreciation which is a possible sign of things to come because Phil seems locked and loaded. I was always surprised by the amount of folks arriving late, I know we missed an opener in 1994, and I am feeling sorry for those who decided to have “just one more beer” because the band was feeling great. Loser was up next and we are off to a wonderful start. Jerry’s voice sounds like the tale teller in this one as if he truly lived this one a few times. Loser contains one of my favourite solos. In fact, it was the first things I heard once I learned Garcia had passed away and I couldn’t stop balling. I had maintained my composure for the most part but once his strings started to squeal with just a perfect amount of distortion while letting them ring, well you know the score. CC Rider comes out once again and if you put your face close enough to your speakers you can feel the breeze from Mydland’s leslie rotating speaker during his solo. Bob’s slide playing his really come along by this point, its no longer jarring but I doubt anyone will ever confuse him with Duane Allman although his slide is endearing to my ears because its so unique much like all his voicings. Off we travel to slave away in the mines Cumberland. Where exactly? Well that’s the sort of folklore the Dead liked to toy with much like “Which Springfield do the Simpsons live in?” I always felt it was a shame that Cumberland Blues became such a rare song, only appearing perhaps a few times a year because it is such a fun dance along with the potential for some classic Garcia train lines which you get a taste of here. Cassidy followed and once again I am all in with this first set. Classics mixed with odd rarities. I could listen to the open ended jam that always seemed to surprisingly land on the “Flight of the seabirds” line, as if we just spent our time watching said seabirds fly. For that split second it’s just a perfect combination of music and lyrics. Ramble On Rose is another great call in this set and then My Brother Esau put on his roller skates to roll over the crowd. You can’t ask for more from this first set and if you do then tits/cock or gtfo. Speaking of trains, Big Railroad Blues followed Esau. Phil has had such a great set but the band was starting to sound just a touch spent during it so it came as no surprise that Promised Land sent everyone backstage to refuel. In fact, Bob announcing that they were going to take a short break sounded like Jerry’s. You have to wonder if everyone was fighting off the fall tour flu but you certainly couldn’t tell based on the music. A quick nod of Happy Bday led into Scarlet Begonias which immediately told me it was on and its gonna be go time, especially once I listened to Garcia’s solo. He came out for that second set ready to fire along with Phil. Saddle up boys and girls. I sure hope you secured your strap nice and tight because the transition to Fire was well executed rollercoaster of a journey with the collective fret boards locked in as one instrument. I often find that if this song is uninspired it can drag you through the mud, not unlike what those of us who experienced Coventry had to deal with but this one is not in that category. Everyone is right on top of where Fire needs them to be. Then Uncle John’s Band? Are you shitting me? Fantastic. Especially with Brent in the band but I did always feel for the high part Bobby had to sing yet he slid in perfectly with Brent and Jerry here. In the grand scheme of things none of it was very pretty and they never were going to sound like they did on the album but this 3 part harmony section worked when they got there. They certainly do here, for the most part. While they understood harmonies, having learned from CSN (little known fact) this was not a band known for them. Too many factors worked against them, the primary one being the huge catalogue of songs they employed as well as the fact they didn’t do those songs all the time, let alone practice, which is what a harmony band has to do but they got there during this version. No one can fault them for that but one thing we can all appreciate is a Playing In The Band coming out from insides of UJB. Hell fucking yes we can! Phil is all over the place during this one. It’s a damn shame this isn’t a 20 minute plus version that you might find in the 72-74 era because the ethos from those days is most definitely there even if it doesn’t sound like anything from that time and space. The lead in to Drumz is absolutely magnificent and had I not heard everything up to this point I would have assumed Lemieux included this show just for the final minutes of Playin’ - total must hear as is the Drumz if you are into that sort of thing which I am. I often think I can convert people based on my stupid-ass huge speakers and some of the great versions I have but the only folks who have heard anything on them from this portion of the second set is my six year old son. He fucking digs it so perhaps I am onto something. Come on over. Bring some party favours and let’s test out my theory bitches! Garcia was first to board the Space shuttle this evening and I figured we were in for some kind of treat. Couldn’t you listen to him run through whatever scales/frets/ideas/sounds for an entire night? Bobby quickly joined and I soon thought of the Other One because that’s what I do during the ideas they bounce off one another. They love to dance around that tale but it stands to reason. Bob whammy-bars the fuck out of his guitar and I immediately am reminded of all those times his guitar would go out of tune during the mid-80’s “So that’s why”. You don’t notice as much when the entire band is onstage but while he is pounding on that thing when it’s just the two of them you are able to do the math. None the less it sounds fucking awesome during this segment. This is honestly a must hear Space and a loooooong time is spent with just Jerry and Bob onstage. I can’t recommend it enough. Just as I write that I totally hear where things might be heading but if they don’t come out with Truckin’ or even Miracle then I am gonna guess someone died onstage but I suppose they could still get into the Other One. This is a neat one. Truckin’ it is and perfectly slides in. I love how quiet things were from the audience during that Bob and Jerry segment. As soon as the band gets on and they inform their intentions you remember that they are in fact playing in front of a few thousand people. Meat and potatoes stuff here folks. It’s a frontal lobe change party now folks! Wharf Rat must have destroyed everyone in the house and if that didn’t then surely the I Need A Miracle that vivaciously stumbled on her high heels yet finally came into the fray must have. If you don’t have a boner by now then you aint no friend of mine. Touch Of Grey follows and I figure will sound different to a lot of folks unless you were an avid tape collector. This is how I first got to know it outside of the MTV video hit. At this point it is still in it’s infancy and gained some stature for having been involved for so long prior to making it on an album while becoming the biggest hit the Grateful Dead would have. Many older fans complained about the Toucheads but don’t kid yourselves, every single one of us reading this review (save for a couple who may stumble around here) are a Touchead. I highly doubt I would have come across this band had that video not hit so many people who inadvertently got me to my first show. Luckily I know who my Patient Zero is but I have never chosen to go beyond that simply because the story leading up to it was so influential. Johnny B Goode closed things out and my theory still stands this particular test in time. They knew it was a fucking great show.

God bless Red. Red Fisher: Remembering great friend and Habs legend Dickie Moore, dead at age 84 I am looking for the right words, but where do you start? How do you say goodbye to a dear friend of more than six decades when tears get in the way? How do you say a final farewell to Dickie Moore, who passed away on Saturday. He was 84. I have known so many of the NHL’s players since the mid-1950s. Almost without exception, I was full of admiration for their talent, but only a few among them were to become friends. Dickie was my closest friend. Advertisement It goes back to his hockey days in the late 1940s when Canadiens GM Frank Selke Sr. anointed him Canada’s best junior. I watched him mature with the Quebec Senior Hockey League Royals and shine as few others in the NHL. Even as a junior, he was all about “team,” a player blessed with a special mixture of courage and on-ice talent surpassed only by his decency as a human being. They were qualities that served him so well at the game’s every level. They were what made him so endearing to so many of us who knew him and those who did not. Who can forget his 1957-58 season with the Canadiens, midway through a dynasty that was to win a record five Stanley Cups in a row? A broken wrist he suffered during a collision with Detroit defenceman Marcel Pronovost threatened to cut short a scoring championship year. Moore, the competitor, wanted to win the Art Ross. He had his eye on the prize, but Moore, the team man, had other ideas. One night, when the Canadiens were travelling on the train, he asked for a meeting with coach Toe Blake and his linemates, Maurice and Henri Richard. At the time, Henri was Dickie’s closest pursuer in the scoring race. Dickie told them he could still play with his wrist in a cast, but for how long? And as long as he played with an injury that would sideline most players, how much could he contribute to the line? “It’s not fair to Henri,” Moore told Blake. “It’s not fair not to allow him to win the scoring title.” The meeting lasted no more than a few minutes. It ended abruptly when Maurice and Henri told Blake: “There’s no damned way he’s going off the line.” Moore remained on the line. He played with his wrist imprisoned in a cast for the second half of the season. He won the Ross with an NHL-leading 36 goals and 48 assists in a 70-game season. Henri finished four points behind. Moore won it again the following year with 41 goals and 55 assists. How much did Dickie mean to the Canadiens? In the six-team league, no rivalry was as fierce as the Maple Leafs and the Canadiens. Hardly a game would pass without the benches being cleared. One night, in Toronto, Henri moved in to check Frank Mahovlich. The latter had all kinds of room. Instead, he fired the puck directly at Richard’s head. Dickie led the charge off the bench. After the period, GM Selke hurried to the Canadiens room with a message for Blake. “Don’t start Moore in the next period,” he told Blake. “Why not?” “We don’t need that kind of trouble,” Selke snapped. Dickie started the third period. Moore, the player, was like the Park Extension district in which he grew up: tough and relentless. His heart was almost too big for his own good. Winning for his team was what he loved; losing was what he hated. If fighting was needed, Moore would fight. If playing with pain was needed, nobody on the Canadiens had to ask him twice. Speed wasn’t among Dickie’s strong points, but few players performed with more finesse despite bad knees which plagued him throughout his career — and beyond. He didn’t out-skate opponents, but his strength was in out-thinking them. Few players handled the puck as well as he did, and nobody was as good in a one-on-one with a goaltender. He overcame adversity better than most players, but what he couldn’t handle was the frustration of not playing, which happens to so many players late in their careers. The Canadiens were in Chicago on this night, only a few days before Christmas. The cracks had widened in the dynasty that had won Stanley Cups from 1955-56 through 1959-60. The Rocket had been forced into retirement prior to the start of the 1960-61 season. Dickie’s best friend on the team, Doug Harvey, had been shipped to the Rangers after the 1961-62 season. In the two seasons following their astonishing string of five consecutive Stanley Cups, the Canadiens had finished first in their division, but failed to get beyond the first round. Changes were needed and, as a result, a few of the veterans spent a lot of time on the bench. Against the Blackhawks, Dickie was among them. He knocked on my hotel room door at 2 a.m. “You awake?” he asked. “Yeah, I’m always awake at two o’clock in the morning. What’s up?” “I’m going home in the morning,” he said. “I can’t take this any longer. There’s no point hanging around if I’m not playing.” “Whoa! Did I hear you say you’re quitting the team?” I asked. “Is that the way you want people to remember Dickie Moore? As a quitter? If you leave now, that’s the way you’ll be remembered,” he was told. “And face it, Dickie, right now you’re not doing a hell of a lot out there when you’re on the ice.” “Can’t score sitting on the bench,” he muttered. “Have you talked to Toe about it?” “I haven’t told him I’m going home, but I’ve made up my mind. If I can’t play, I’d much rather be at home with the family,” Moore said. “I can handle anything the fans will say about this. They’re not sitting on the bench. I am,” he added. We argued about it for the next two hours. Finally, Moore said: “OK, here’s what I’m gonna do. I’ll go with the team to Detroit. If I don’t play, I’m gone. I’m playing pretty well when I get on the ice, but I can’t buy a goal.” “Try shooting more often,” he was told. “Whenever you’re on the ice, all you do is pass the puck to Henri.” Moore was in the starting lineup two nights later. Henri won the faceoff and dropped the puck back to Moore. He was only one stride across centre ice when he released a rising shot at Terry Sawchuk. Goal! The press box in the old Detroit Olympia was fairly close to the ice. The instant the puck eluded Sawchuk, Moore raced down the left side of the rink, swept around behind the net and skated along the boards. Then, as he approached the press box he looked up, raised his stick and waved it. The smile he wore lit up the arena. Later in the game, he scored a second goal. He was to score 24 goals in 67 games in that 1962-63 season, his last with the Canadiens. He stayed out of hockey the next season, returned to play 38 games with Toronto in 1964-65, stayed out of hockey for the next two seasons, but answered Scotty Bowman’s call in St. Louis in 1967-68, when the NHL doubled in size to 12 teams. The Canadiens arrived in St. Louis for their first meeting with the Blues roughly 20 games into that expansion season. Both teams were struggling at the time. The Blues were in last place of the West Division, the Canadiens last in the East. The Canadiens won what had been a tight game — Bowman’s first with St. Louis as head coach. He had a message for me. “I’m bringing in your friend,” he said. “Yeah? Who?” “Dickie.” There was no need to mention the surname. For me, going back to his junior days, there was only one Dickie. The Blues had been attracting only 5,000 fans at most of their games up to that point in the season, but with the addition of Moore and Harvey, they played to sellout crowds and finished the season in third place with 70 points in a 74-game schedule. Dickie scored only five goals and three assists in 27 games. The Blues beat Philadelphia in seven games in the first round. Then, they needed a goal from Larry Keenan 4:10 into the second overtime of Game 7 in a 2-1 victory over Minnesota to move into the Stanley Cup final against the Canadiens. They fell in four, but the Canadiens needed overtime goals in two of the games. Dickie led the Blues with seven goals in 18 playoff games. He assisted on another seven. This time he retired for good. The greatest moment of his Hall of Fame career came on Nov. 12, 2005, when, through misty eyes, he watched his No. 12 raised to the rafters. You wonder what players think about at times like these, but what I knew for certain was that he was thinking about his mother, Ida, and his father, Charles, a city of Montreal employee who worked so hard to raise 10 kids. He was thinking about his brothers Charlie, Bill, Eddie, Bert, Tommy, Danny, Reggie, Jimmy and his sister Dolly — wishing they were all there. Sadly, by then, all gone, except Jimmy, who has since passed away, but he could feel their arms around him. He could feel their love. He was thinking about his son, Dickie Jr., who had died alone in the darkness of an early morning decades earlier in a one-car accident on a road leading to Arundel in the Laurentians. He was thinking about his wife, Joan, who has never fully recovered from her son’s death. He was thinking about his daughter Lianne and his son, John. Laughter always has come easily to Dickie, as it does to all of those marvellous people who have the rare quality of enjoying life to the fullest. Too many people I know don’t regard a day complete unless they can convince themselves and others that life is beating their brains out. They don’t care who knows it. They wear their misery on their sleeves. They depress me. Not Dickie. He always made the day brighter. I can remember a time in 1960 when the Candiens held their training camp in Victoria. One day, we were walking through the halls of the hotel where the team stayed. Not a sound was heard in the hotel’s greenhouse — except for some squeaks. “What are those strange noises?” he was asked. “Those aren’t strange noises,” he said. “They’re my knees.” Like the rest of us, Dickie had his share of bad times. He could be breaking up inside, but he always regarded tears as private things. It stayed in the family. Joy and laughter were what he shared with others … always trying to make the people around him feel better. He cared for people, young and old alike. I will miss so much about him. His courage. His laughter. His bad jokes. His goodness. Some years ago, Dickie was involved in a life-threatening accident. It happened in Dorion on Aug. 27, 2006, under a pelting rain. He was slowly leaving a shopping mall’s parking area when he was sideswiped on the driver’s side by a truck. Forty-five minutes passed before rescuers were able to remove him from his vehicle. He was rushed to the Montreal General Hospital, where doctors discovered he had suffered spinal and neck injuries. Eleven broken ribs. A knee injury. There were fears his kidney had been punctured. There was massive bleeding. Several days before the accident, Dickie had visited the resting place of his son. “It won’t be long now, Richard,” he said. “It won’t be long.” Dickie Jr.’s death so many years ago had left huge holes that never fully mended in the hearts of those he left behind. A boy: dead at 17. How do you deal with that? Somehow, Dickie did. On Saturday, when so many of us wept, father and son finally embraced

I swear I went into this quick rabbit hole that did not start with the Grateful Dead or anything related as far as I could tell.I looked up....oh yeah. So it was the Grateful Dead themselves and then I stumbled across this Sounds Of Our Own series again (some of it is so fucking wonderful, its like the greatest cover album ever for the Dead). I really enjoyed this verison of Bertha along with the editting. This is a great tip of the hat to Playing In The Band from So Far

I agree with a number of the ones already listed but here is one I havent noticed above Ryley Walker - Primrose Green

I'll take Newbs Discovering Gerry Rafferty In The Wee Hours Of The Morning for 1000 dollars Alex. #401Theme

"Order your pizzas, order your Chinese foods. Five cases of Pepsi, five cases of Coke. Make sure you have your iPads charged, iPods charged, cell phones charged, laptops charged and have your 3G and 4G ready."

07-31-1982 Austin Texas The minor radio hit Alabama Getaway into The Promised Land set things off to a wonderful start for those looking to boogie. Phil sounded like he was ready to dance especially after it sounded like Jerry sang “I heard you pee in the courthouse?” Candyman is another one of those all-too-rare Garcia ballads that we got to chasing, which seems like a shame missing this song because he takes a particularly drippy solo. It’s fantastic. There is also a wonderful build while Jerry reminded everyone to tell everyone else that they meet that the candy man was in town. Great version here and this show started out pretty searing. Seeing as they were in Austin, El Paso made a bunch of sense in this slot. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, Bird Song…….where have you been throughout this box set? This is one of my favourite songs and it’s a shame there haven’t been enough of them up to this point because it provides such a wonderful avenue for a walk in the woods which the band heartily takes part of during this version. Although to be fair, the song disappeared for 7 or so years so there weren’t very many to pick from. Bird Song segued into Little Red Rooster and this is proving to be a very enjoyable first set. The band is feeling good because this was a powerful 19 or so minutes of music. Another first set favourite of mine, Ramble On Rose, followed things up. I don’t know exactly what it is about this song that I love so much. Whether it are the whimsical lyrics which can be about anything you want, the punchy rhythm you cant seem to nail down even though you have that shit timed to your very breath or the soaring leads Garcia was able to deliver time and again but this song has it all. Speaking of Garcia solos that I always enjoy, It’s All Over Now added to this fine first set. This was a cover also performed at my first show which had me so utterly confused it was a Kinks cover thanks to what I sucked on before the show. I can still feel that anxiety and joy combo from that night but hearing Phil play bass on this one makes me know I am not in that same moment. Another Brown-Eyed Women and yet another eye-opener for me. I am really getting into these early 80’s versions. Phil is just hopping. Perhaps I have finally unlocked the key to enjoying this song. Oooooooooooh yeeeeeeeeeeeeah….a great start to this Music Never Stopped which doesn’t let up. Totally popping version that you wish never ended. Garcia flying all over the place during an all too quick Deal was a wonderful bookend to the boogie-loo that started things off. Some might say the band punctuated a set that was longer than it seemed. “We’re gonna take a short break. We’ll be back in a few minutes so everybody hang loose and get a lot of beer and have fun” – that pretty much sums’er up Bobby. Well done. I am guessing many folks were jacked after this set. For my money, there aint no better chords to open a second set than the 2 that signal Scarlet Begonias and the pace this song provided in 1982 always makes me feel that nip to the air because there is nothing wrong with the love within her eyes. One of the things we all love about this song is whether or not it will be paired with a favourite and whether or not that transition has the capabilities of taking us *there* This most definitely does. There is this really small section whereby Garcia harkens back to his slide days during the Scarlet outro but he isn’t using a slide. I almost fell off the floor of my floor but he continues on and quickly makes you forget he even did it. Ideas are being bounced around from everyone and we are deep inside the Grateful Dead mind. This is what it’s all about if you ask me. It’s a constant segueing tease which finally resolves at Fire on the Mountain when Phil decides it’s time. Everyone is heavily involved at this point and it ends up being another pumping Phil song. He’s the fucking man and helped provide a fantastic 25ish minutes of music to start things off (I looked at my phone when it started) Estimated Prophet follows and you have to wonder again if it might have another wonderfully perfect pairing. “Are they really going to go back to back to back to back?” but as soon as I thought that I realized how deep the tempo was on this Estimated was feeling. She aint tight like they were in 1977 but hot-damn if this aint no other level. The solo sounds soooooo good. Once again, they were nailing a second outro in this set with Bob Weir doing his best to wail his voice to invoke spirits. But then all of a sudden it gets dropped upon us. “Where in the fuck did Eyes of the World come from?” I always wanted to see one of those combos live just to see how they did it that night because that was one of my favourite Grateful Dead wildcards which led to some great weirdness before Drumz which sounds amazing and is making me look more forward to what is coming in the later-day shows during that segment. You can hear things building. Space into Uncle John’s and is about as deep as this band gets into a two song metaphor. If you haven’t got the Grateful Dead yet then it’s time to walk away. This shit is potent and you want to be hanging on for dear life. You want to be afraid. You want to know everything is worth it. You want to wonder “I cant believe there are a number of songs left?” ….while Phil and Jerry are floating inside every cloud during a buck dancer’s choice. We then get blammo’d with a Truckin’ intro suggesting I Need A Miracle until Bobby counts things in and Truckin does it’s thing which is what you always want it to do. Punch you in the face while picking you up. Being the ridiculous Deadhead that I am, I always wonder what that final build will be like. This one softly lands but quickly delves into boom spots we dream of and once again we are within another perfect combo Morning Dew. Had I been to this show ya’ll would be sick of me talking about it for all these years because this is stupid good. Everyone will get it. One More Saturday Night smokes to the end and then Don’t Ease Me In dances us out of the venue. They killed this show. Immediately one of my favorites of the lot. In the meantime...............

Fuuuuuuuuck. This is not good timing at all for me to be able to attend. Have a blast Rob.............Higher Ground shows + Burlington = always fun

Totally agree. These guys are the real deal and give me hope that the Dead's music will keep travelling along similar lines. I have absolute respect and admiration for how they are attacking this stuff. Love love LOVE that Viola Lee Blues up there. Hopefully WEEN getting back together doesnt throw this outfit off too much from my ability to see them. I'm assuming this is a band I will have to travel to see "When we are all together" kind of deal. The one positive aspect is Festival season. "Get all our bands together and we can offer another one"

That's fucking awesome Brad. Thank you so very much. Bobby Cochran and the rest of the band take a vicious solo during this CC Rider and you answered the question in my head.

05-16-1981 Barton Hall – pretty sure we are all familiar this venue even though none of us has ever been inside - https://archive.org/post/93123/conspiracy-theory CIA EXPERIMENTS, YO! Feel Like A Stranger has always been a familiar opener to me and the Dead are now really comfortable with this one. Some fantastic sounds emanating from Brent. Friend of the Devil reminded me how seemingly oft-put I was when I first heard the extremely slowed down versions they became known for rather than the upbeat tempo first heard on Workingman’s Dead. A really nice Althea, another song they immediately owned, followed the venture into cowboy country with an Uncle>Big River combo which preceded an all too rare CC Rider. Hahaha. I just re-read that sentence and had to re-do the math in my head. I always enjoyed getting tapes with CC Rider. Even though Bob sang it one has to wonder if Brent somehow brought the idea of the song to the band in some way since it started appearing shortly after he came on board. I’m going to take a big guess here and wonder aloud if Bobby and the Midnites used to do perform it. Brown Eyed Women comes out next and I can’t recall if I stated this earlier but this is one of the few Garcia songs I have never really cared for but I was enjoying the groove of this one. This was also the moment I realized Phil seemed rather restrained for most of this show thus far. He has simply been Phil-solid without drawing much attention to himself with bombastic notes but perhaps I haven’t been paying close enough attention to those details. Two shows in this 30 show release in a row with a Passenger and I loved how this came into the fray, sure enough, with a bomb from Phil. What a great song. Jerry just starts going off. I really wish the Dead had kept at this one. I would have loved hearing the Vince/Hornsby era throw this one out especially during the 1992 Hamilton shows. You kids out there with up and coming bands, get this cover into your repertoire because it’s balls out rock and roll in which you won’t be able to hide. And BOOM! A nice surprise with High Time. This song was simply not done enough but then again, perhaps that is what helps give it the charm it possesses. A super charged Let It Grow flowed out and once again proved to be the song of the set. Garcia was a madman. Notes were coming from everywhere imaginable. This was such a great era for this song. Don’t Ease sent everyone off for cokes and pees. Again, this was a solid set. This was as close as things have come for me but nothing thus far has disappointed. Guessing this show made it for the second set but I didn’t give this first set my full attention. Shakedown opened set two as Phil dropped his signature bomb but again, things felt like he was restraining himself however I am so fucking biased. I have seen and heard him play so many incredible shows over the years that even a normalized Phil Lesh seems like he is holding back. He’s clearly not here because he is maintaining that backbone while ploughing the fields for Jerry et al to sow but he isn’t digging the deep trenches that I love to dive into. Hahhahaha, we aren’t even 5 minutes in and I am bitching like a little entitledcunt so I decided to turn the speakers up much louder and……..well, let’s just say you should always play the Dead loud, unless Phil is being demanding because he has ruined 3 sets of my speakers over the years. Am I right DaveyBoy 2.0? You’re g-damn right I am. Another surprise call in this show with Bertha being featured in the second set, which was one of my favourite little treats the Dead offered from time to time. They always seemed to have a bit more kick to them but that might be simply due to my expectations of it being a first set song. Bertha snaked into Sailor>Saint and we are in the midst of a really fun set. The pulsating tempos are making me rethink my earlier comments about Phil. I’m so used to his expansive traverses across the frets of his bass and the deep thoughts he throws I often forget how great he can be when he just performs like the deep end that bands pray their bass players hold and this Saint Of Circumstance is a fantastic example of how he is holding it all together……. But lucky for everyone in attendance Jerry’s ear caught something and his fingers started running with it because this somehow delves into fucking Spanish Jam with Phil was right in tow. I take it all back. Phil is driving this bus while Jerry suggests where to go and you either have to get off at the next stop or pray you can hang on for dear life. Things get amazingly weird which is what got me to board in the first place so I wasn’t surprised this was when the fearsome foursome decided to leave things to the dynamic drumming duo for a Drumz that grabs you right off the bat. That’s the key to this segment in this era. If they can’t get me right off the bat then I am checking out until things get to the bigger drum units, which may not happen. Thus far these segments have been delicious sounding on this release. Things sound great as the band slowly filters back in. Everyone is catching the smoove grooves and this is the stuff where Mickey Hart shines. I could listen to those jams for an entire show but all of a sudden Jerry and Phil start throwing out ideas that suggest Truckin or The Other One or something else in the key of E while we hang on every note until a decision is made. I always felt for the drummers in these situations “What the fuck do you want us to do?” but then one of them blows a whistle and off we go, Truckin’ it is and the bus has left the station again with Phil steering the wheel and signalling the turns which eventually leads us into a Nobody’s Fault But Mine jam directed by Jerry ‘the fucking man’ Garcia. He was so full of ideas and this is a great example of how his mind worked, while Bob Weir worked perfectly with him on the slide. Staying in the same format, one of our collective favourite ballads slid out and I am guessing most everyone in attendance hung on every note at the beginning of Stella Blue. One aspect I love in this song are the harmonics Bob Weir provided but more importantly it also appears that this was one of those ‘forgot about the tape reel’ moments and we end up with a phenomenal audience capture. Isn’t it just so perfect that these 30 shows include some of these sound bites that aren’t jarring but actually work? A part of me is proud that they had the balls to do this. Is there another band that would, or even could? But if you were a band and could provide a Stella Blue this good with the necessary patches, wouldn’t you do it? 2 things come immediately to mind. First is that you gain an appreciation for how quiet a crowd of this size would get during a ballad as strong as this. Second is that you also gain an appreciation for the technology, determination and hard work these tapers put forth show in and show out. This one track made me miss the Good Ole Grateful Dead because a flood of year’s worth of memories came back, especially during Jerry’s fantastic solo at the end. I missed these moments at shows when we hung with Jerry on every note from his voice or guitar. I missed the joy of receiving a box of tapes in the mail I worked so hard on seeking out but I really fucking miss Jerry Garcia. A raucous GDTRFB was up next and things rounded out with Saturday Night. A perfect choice for an encore in Uncle John’s Band, complete with crowd clapping thanks to this audience source, must have sent everyone home happy. I used to have this on VHS and loved it because we got to see a little more personality coming out, not to mention Ken Fucking Kesey - You are going to want to watch this:

This is how I picture C-Towns trying to sit down during the summer based on Edgar's story

Loved that Trottier story. Some advice everyone can use: "Sometimes you just have to go out to the beaver dam with a machete and start chopping wood."

I think this is the worst thread in the history of the internet. gawd

FuckU Hamilton. I'm still going to axe Lemieux if I ever get the chance