Walking through the connecting parking lots, vintage live Dead was
blaring through many-a-speaker, while grills searing dogs and burgers
were the only thing providing heat relief. If you stood in one spot
long enough, you’d see enough people walk by muttering secret
psychoactive code words alerting any willing taker that there’s goods
on the lot. And judging by the inebriated state of mind clearly written
on the heads of several mumblers and bumblers, it was obvious the
barter system was being constituted amongst the throng. Hey, the Dead
didn’t build their reputation on cream puffs alone, dig?
There was seating in the upper levels of the auditorium, but the
crowd on the floor was all standing room, and as all the heads filed to
wherever their trip took them, it appeared that the 5,500-seat venue
was a near sellout. Scheduled for a 7 p.m. start, the boys were a
little late, of course, but as guitarist Weir and bassist Lesh strode
out to center stage, joined by guitarist John Kadlecik from the Dark Star Orchestra, Weir’s Ratdog bandmates Jeff Chimenti on keyboards and Jay Lane on drums, as well as second percussionist Joe Russo of the Benevento-Russo Duo, the band was all business.
Further kicked off the night with “Good Morning Little Schoolgirl,”
the Sonny Boy Williamson blues standard the Grateful Dead played
frequently in the late 1960s, with the late Ron “Pigpen” McKernan
handling vocal duties. The band kept things in rockin’ blues spirit by
performing Chuck Berry’s “Promised Land” next, one of several covers
played that night.
“Cumberland Blues,” off of 1970’s Workingman’s Dead, arguably
the Grateful Dead’s finest album, displayed the Dead’s Americana
element, as this rollicking tale of having to leave the woman to get
down to work the mines, makin’ “good money five dollars a day,”
traverses the listener back to the days of Woody Guthrie and the Dust
Bowl. When this reviewer interviewed Bob Weir for The New Times’
Feb. 17 cover story, he mentioned how this new band is still learning
from one another, and on the next number, that became evident.
“Ramble on Rose,” a song that never appeared on a studio album, but
has been a staple in the Dead’s repertoire since 1971, features a
whimsical tale connecting historical figures such as Jack the Ripper,
Crazy Otto, Billy Sunday and Wolfman Jack. But during the bridge after
the second chorus, Kadlecik had a delayed start with the verse that
threw off the band for a split-second, although they recovered quite
effortlessly and finished the song without further incident, with the
crowd seemingly indifferent to the mistake and just grooving to the
vibes. But over the course of the night, Weir and Lesh elicited the
connection that performing in any context for more than 40 years will
bring: It was as if one was playing the other’s instrument.
The first set finished with a four-song jam that started off with
“Foolish Heart” segueing into “Reuben and Cerise” before closing out
with two unexpected surprises. There must have been a backstage
1964-era debate between who was the better band: the Rolling Stones or
The Beatles. Furthur pulled off a stunning version of “Dear Prudence”
from the Fab Four’s White Album, jamming on the riff heard
after Lennon’s “Won’t you come out to play?”, and then took things into
Keith Richards-land by going into a more mellow version of
“Satisfaction,” one of the best rock’n’roll songs ever recorded.
Aside from the exclusion of a keyboardist, the band mirrors the
original Dead lineup, which also featured two drummers (Mickey Hart and
Bill Kreutzmann), two guitarists (Jerry Garcia and Weir) and a bassist
(Lesh). On the opening jam to start off the second set, the band
exemplified what the early Dead was all about: Closing your eyes, it
almost seemed like you were listening to Garcia-as-Kadlicek sonically
emoted the distinct intro to “China Cat Sunflower,” a Dead favorite
first heard on their 1968 album Anthem of the Sun, before slipping into “The Wheel” followed by “I Know You Rider.”
The two drummers seemed to meld four hands into two as they were in
perfect sync all night, the highlight of percussion coming in the jam
between “Comes a Time” and “Going Down the Road Feeling Bad.” The
second set closed with “Touch of Grey” the Dead’s only Top 10 hit,
charting in 1987, with the crowd singing passionately along to the “I
will survive, I will get by” chorus, which led into “And I Bid You Good
Night,” an a cappella spiritual that set the audience in a quiet
comfort.
Of course, there was an encore, and being the fact that it was a
Saturday concert, most Deadheads knew what song to expect: “One More
Saturday Night,” Weir’s 1971 rollicking number that talks about
“everybody getting high” and “everybody’s dancin’ down the local
armory.” The night ended, the crowd went on their way, and there’s a
good chance some two weeks later many still have a euphonic contact
high from the air cast by the band.
—Tom Kahley
