It should go without saying that TotD is firmly and immovably on Team Bette; above is footage of the Divine One performing at the Continental Baths in ’71 (with Barry Manilow on piano); below is a shot of her giving Basketball Head the finger.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: 1971 (Page 1 of 6)
The 18th is Mickey’s last night for a while, plus the never-to-be-repeated Dark Star>Wharf Rat>Beautiful Jam; the 19th is immortalized (or something) on Three From The Vault; the 21st is the infamous “Tapir Section” performance. 2/24/71 from the Cap gets very little attention next to its brothers in choogle.
Don’t sleep on this show, though. We got:
- An acceptable Cumberland!
- A sleepy but true Bird Song!
- An itsy-bitsy Playing!
- King Bee, motherfucker!
- And more songs by the Grateful Dead!
What did I tell you about sleeping? Go, listen, enjoy, noodle dance.
Hey, Pig. Whatcha doing?
“Aw, they got me scrapin’ on this here ethnic object while they play all that boodle-doodle music.”
Dark Star?
“I got no idea! The number with one chord and all th’ lyrics ’bout bein’ a druggie and whatnot.”
Yeah, that’s Dark Star.
“Can’t make heads nor tails o’ them words! You ask the ol’ Pig, songs should be about gettin’ it on!”
Sure.
“Stickin’ it in!”
Okay.
“I sang me a tune the other night ’bout a woman with a big ass who made poor decisions!”
Which one was that?
“All of ’em! Ain’t no one wants to hear no diamonds refractivatin’ and all that hoodoo! ‘Lady in velvet.’ Who the fuck wants that? Take that velvet off and let the ol’ Pig get sloppy with them titties! Now there’s a song!”
Can’t argue, Pig. Got any plans for Christmas?
“Gonna find me a dark-hued lass and jingle her bells jus’ a little.”
Merry Christmas, buddy.
“And happy Jew-Christmas to you!”
Amen.
“Hey, Jer?”
“What’s up, Weir?”
“Now, I’m not accusing or anything–”
“Good to hear, man.”
“–but, uh, did you eat my McNuggets?”
“I didn’t.”
“Well, where’d they go?”
“Could have something to do with it being 1971. Product wont exist for a decade or so.”
“That might explain it. Y’know, I’m not a one-saucer.”
“Huh?”
“Some people go all in on bar-b-q, or honey mustard. I get ’em all and switch it up throughout the meal.”
“Good to know.”
“Can’t let your taste buds get complacent. Gotta keep ’em guessing.”
“Both what enters and what exits your mouth is a complete mystery to all, Weir.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Hey, Pig. Whatcha doing?
“I’m playin’ the harmonica f’r Hanukkah!”
That’s very multicultural of you.
“The ol’ Pig counts among his friends those of ev’ry religious persuasion and also some folks what can’t make up their mind.”
You’re no bigot.
“Hell, no! I takes ’em as they come! Met some real decent Jews, met some lousy ones! One stole all my damn money!”
Yeah, sorry about that.
“But a diff’rent one shared her wine with me, and we got t’ hootin’ and hollerin’ t’gether!”
That sounds nice.
“That girl straightened out the ol’ Pig’s curly little tail, heh heh.”
So your lesson is to judge people as individuals?
“That’s it! ‘Less they’re cops. You can pre-judge th’ hell out of a cop!”
You always get it right, buddy.
“That’s what they all tell me!”
Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?
“Same ol’.”
You have the arms of a 12-year-old girl.
“Yeah, I guess. Funnily enough, they didn’t seem to put much of a damper on my social life.”
No. This is Duke, right? 1971?
“I’d, uh, have to check with the bursar.”
It’s Duke.
“Okee-doke.”
Was this your first time in North Carolina?
“It is.”
Impressions?
“I can do Ed Sullivan. We got a great big shoe for you tonight.”
Not that kind of impression. I meant: What did you think of North Carolina?
“Ah. Well, you know that song about ‘Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning’ or however it goes?”
I do.
“Not completely accurate. So many things are better than being in Carolina. Whether it’s morning or afternoon or whenever. I like New York better than here, and I get mugged three or four times a day when I’m in New York.”
The city was rough in the 70’s. At least the scenery is nice.
“Oh, yeah. Blue Ridge mountains. Glad I came 3,500 miles into the heart of Dixie to see ’em. Because I, who live on Mount Tamalpais, so rarely get to see mountains.”
You have a point.
“Oh, yeah.”
All the other Rock Stars would take their eyeglasses off before they went on stage; you know the old saying: Boys don’t fuck asses if they wear glasses. But the Dead didn’t give a shit.
Hey, Pig. Whatcha doing?
“Aw, you know the ol’ Pig. Drinkin’ my wine an’ singin’ the blues!”
Sure.
“Don’t got too much t’ be blue about, tho! Got me a free shirt.”
You’re at Duke, huh?
“Harvard o’ North Carolina! That’s what ev’rybody keeps tellin’ me, anyway. I don’t know too much ’bout that. The ol’ Pig never did take too well t’ school.”
Weren’t much of a student, huh?
“Couldn’t see no need for most of it! Brought me down, man! I go to history class, an’ the lady’s tellin’ me all about Napoleon. I got my own problems! Let Napoleon take came o’ hisself! Wouldn’t mind meetin’ that Josephine chick, tho. Heh heh.”
She was something.
“My math teacher tried t’ tell me that Pythagoras got a theory! I told that ol’ teacher that I got a plenty o’ theories, but I don’t bother teenagers with ’em!”
Good point.
“Only one I liked was Miss Worthy. Taught me Second Grade. Fine woman! I would show up early jus’ to bang out her erasers!”
You had a little crush on her?
“Yes, I did! So I gave her my rap!”
Did it work?
“It most certainly did not!”
Can’t win ’em all.
“No, but I show up f’r every game!”
You’re the MVP, buddy.
“Most Valuable Pig, yes I am.”
All of this, whatever it is, is supposed to be about the Grateful Dead–that’s what it says in the header, at least, so I’m gonna recommend a show. That’s what Grateful Dead blogs do.
Go listen to 4/15/71 from Allegheny State College in Meadville, PA; this was one of the Second Great Quintet shows, just the five original boys playing all growly-like and real loud, too. Also out-of-tune–Garcia spent almost the entirety of 1971 out-of-tune–but what does that matter? It’s a Dead show, yay.
Have you even listened to this particular performance?
Maybe. I see no reason why I wouldn’t have, but I cannot attest in the positive. There’s a Second That Emotion on there, and I love the version from 4/29/71, so I might have noticed that and thrown the show on. If it were a ’93, I could state without prejudice I had not heard it. What I’m saying here is this: could you repeat the question?
You just picked a show at random, didn’t you?
Not random. I wanted one from the ’71 five-piece.
Semi-random.
I don’t think you can modify the word random. It’s like unique or ultimate.
And you are not currently listening to this show? Because sometimes you recommend shows that you’re only two or three songs into.
I am listening to the ’73 Portland show from the new box set for the seventh time.
Acceptable excuse.
Gonna throw that rugged ’71 rodeo on directly after my silky-smooth ’73 massage, though.
Ew.
I stand by the sentence.
I stand by my “ew.”
Shush. Sharp-eyed Enthusiasts will note that Garcia is playing the proto-Alembic that he called Peanut; this photo purports to be from the Manhattan Center shows of earlier in the month, so it is possible that he’s still using the guitar for this gig. (He would soon switch over to a blond ’57 Strat. I’ve always relied on the long-since abandoned Dozin.com’s guitar timeline, but it’s a bit vague.) Sharper-eyed Enthusiasts will note Pig’s potato salad.
“Hey! Get yer eyes offa there!”
Oh, hey, Pig.
“Don’t be peepin’ and peerin’ at my potatoes, now! The ol’ Pig swings hard, but he don’t swing that way!”
I didn’t intend any offense, Pig.
“An’ I didn’t take none! Can’t help it if I’m beautiful!
True.
“The ol’ Pig is used to male attention. Sometimes my woman is givin’ me troubles. She’s tryin’ me! I gotta get out, take a walk, maybe find a friend. So, I go walkin’.”
Yeah.
“I go here and there, troubles on my mind.”
Take your time.
“And here they come! This one wanna know if I got the time. That one wanna know I got a match. The men all wanna know, y’know?”
Sing your song, Pig.
“And I tell ’em, ‘Boys, these field ain’t yours for plowing, but you c’n watch the sun set over ’em!’ An’ I keep on walkin’!”
That’s a very on-brand way of rejecting an advance, Pig.
“I got a way o’ talkin’.”
You do.
*The mascot of Allegheny State College in Meadville, Pennsylvania, is the Gator, and that’s just wrong. There are no alligators in Pennsylvania, and if there were, Pennsylvanians would kill and skin and eat them all immediately; they’d probably squirt cheez wiz all over the place and call them cheezgators and make Presidential candidates eat them. Everyone in Pennsylvania is a monster.
I’m not lying. Look:
Fuck you for calling me a liar, jackass.
HEY!
No, it’s Go Time.
Don’t capitalize shit like that.
Fuck you, too, prick-dick. I’m gonna fight the Enthusiasts.
That makes less than no sense.
I wanted to do the press conference bit.
So go write that.
Okay.
From 2/18/71, when Mickey left the band, to 10/19/71, when Keith made his debut, there were not enough Grateful Deads. I mean, really: this is absurd. We need at least two or three more musician, not to mention the fact that this is nowhere near the proper amount of amps. We have here a normal, human amount of amps; that’s not the Dead’s way of doing things. There are also no random naked children wandering around the stage.
It’s just a mess.
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