Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
If you’re still on the fence about Cleveland Dark Star, then know this: the Dead does not get around to actually playing the Dark Star part of Dark Star until they are 21 minutes into the Cleveland Dark Star.
And, sure: most of humanity would hear that fact and say, “No, please, none of that for me; I’d rather watch pandas try to cross the freeway.”
But we are different.
Nothing to add to this one: just like the picture. The high angle and swatches of yellow light in the fore and back grounds give the home team a grandeur that doesn’t come across in some photos.
Also, if you wanted to snipe the Grateful Dead, this would be the angle to do it from.
Just in case you’re uninterested in films featuring magical white people punching one another, you could check out 11/14/73 from San Diego. Recently featured in the 30 Trips box and featuring a killer China>Rider, this show comes recommended by out Swaggie–
“ARE YOU TELLING THEM? About my SHOW? That I FOUND? Because I am AWESOME?”
–Maggie. Dammit.
“IT’S SO GOOOOOOOOD.”
Well, I told everyone.
“They NEED to KNOW.”
They do!
…
“Swag.”
Stop–
“SWAG!”
–that.
Enthusiasts are always saying to me: David Lemieux knows wine, TotD, but does he know the Grateful Dead? And I’ll answer: Not according to the comment boards on Dead.net, but if you ask people who aren’t monomaniacal lunatics, then he’s got a pretty good track record.
Dave’s 16th Pick is from 3/28/73 at the Springfield Civic Center in Springfield, MA, and it’s a massive, 30-song show with a half-hour Dark Star: if there exists a Dead show which causes an Enthusiast to cry “yield!” then it is this one. It is clearly far too much Dead for the unprepared mind; merely the opener, a rare and sprightly Cumberland, would cause a newcomer to the Dead’s dong to explode. This is graduate level Dead.
Go for the upgrade and buy the thing, or just watch David Lemieuxmasandthepappas wax enthusiastic about it over at the official site, but be forewarned: you might not recognize David without his wind; he has wandered a few miles inland and there is neither a pervasive sea breeze nor does he get distracted by gulls or seals.
A further forewarning (a fivewarning?): keep to the article, stay off the comments. That way madness lies.
Have we discussed your eyebrows lately?
“Please don’t start with the fleek again. I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I have a feeling you don’t quite know, either.”
Y’know, I was trying to compliment you.
“I get a lotta compliments. I’m passing on this one.”
But–
“Hard pass.”
–the fleek is such that–
“Pasadena.”
…
Aw.
Guys, can you give us a hand here? What show is this?
“I think it’s 1974.”
“It’s ’73, Mrs. Donna Jean.”
“What? ’73?”
“Yeah.”
“I sincerely thought we were in Santa Clara.”
“Okay, first of all, Bobby: I’m alive.”
“Jer, you always know how to get to the heart of an argument.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
“I thought we had all kinda just agreed not to talk about Santa Clara anymore?’
“Oh, yeah. That, too.”
“Also, um…”
“Yeah, uh…”
…
“Oh, I know y’all mean me.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Donna Jean.”
“Sorry.”
You are absolutely no help.
1973 or 2015: when Phil starts singing, Bobby makes this face.
Precarious?
“Yo! Chief!”
Are we really leaving the cases with the wheels sitting in the middle of the stage?
“What if we need something from that case?”
Get it before the show?
“Dead show, man: every one’s different.”
Not that different. You can guess roughly what’s going to happen.
“Don’t get paid to guess. Make my money lying to gravity, and telling the laws of physics to suck my hairy one.”
Yeah, all right. What’s in that case, anyway?
“Guy’s corpse. Jewish, fishing cap, headphones, denim?”
Benjy?
“If you say so.”
None of this makes sense anymore.
“It began pretty incoherently, too.”
Sure.
Oh my stars and garters. Did all of you bring your sexy to the same show?
“Is Keith in the picture?”
No.
“Then, yes.”
This might be the best-looking the Grateful Dead has ever been.
“Did you take my potato salad into account?”
I did, Bobby, yes.
…
Phil, are those Geiger counters?
“Yes. It’s a rock concert.”
Right.
This is a picture made of many, many pixels: blow it up as big as you can.
You will note that Garcia is handsome and his head is diamond-shaped. Close readers of TotD will have been Baader-Meinhoffed into seeing the loosely knotted ropes and unshielded power cables that mark this as Precarious Lee’s turf.
Did you see how much Billy looks like Hercule Poirot? Or at least like James Coco playing Hercule Poirot? And, of course, Billy’s adorable finger while pretending to make a chord on Bobby’s guitar.
And then there’s Bobby, who is SCREAMING ON THE INSIDE over that filthy roustabout TOUCHING MY MOTHERFUCKING GUITAR. Bobby wants Billy’s hand on his guitar’s neck like he wants Albert DiSalvo’s hand on his actual neck.
Bobby remembered this breach for quite a while and fumed until one day, while no one was looking, he jammed one of Billy’s drumsticks up his butt, then gave it a quick wipe and replaced it with the others. Looking back soon after, Bobby recalled how much he enjoyed enbuttening the ‘stick and ran to the music store in town to pick up several for his own personal use.
Unfortunately for Bobby, as he was leaving the store with the parcel of drumsticks under his arm, he ran right into Mickey, who was coming to the store to investigate the rumor that it was selling a drum from Tierra del Fuego made from the skins of three different kinds of endangered monkeys.
When Mickey asked Bobby what the drumsticks were for, well: Bobby couldn’t just come right out and say it. His puckered chap craved the taste and feel of a Vic Firth: the butt wants what it wants.
He thought about telling Mickey that the drumsticks were for him, that he wanted to learn to play the drums, but realized that would lead to immediate drum lessons from Mickey and Mickey appointing himself his Drum Shaman and long talks with Mickey about the history of drums and different kind of drums and drums drums drums with Mickey Mickey Mickey all the damn day and Bobby did not want that, please.
He hesitated for a bit too long; Mickey accused him of buying the ‘sticks for some sort of prank; Bobby hastily agreed and thought the matter dropped when Mickey confiscated the drumsticks.
Thus began the Prank War of 1974.
© 2021 Thoughts On The Dead
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑
Recent Comments