Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
In this newly-restored footage from the 1982 US Festival, you’ll see:
*I like the sour gummies.
“Stop depressing people, man.”
It’s a depressing day, Garcia.
“Still, man. Have some self-control.”
Yeah, you’re right. Where are you? It looks like an apocalyptic hellscape.
“San Bernardino.”
I stand by my observation.
What’s so special about 2/17/82 from the Warfield Theater in San Francisco?
Oh, it’s a magical show. People don’t know this, but 2/17/82 from the Warfield is actually 5/8/77 from Cornell. Many books have been written about this show.
That doesn’t make any sense.
Rock and roll, huh?
No, I mean it’s not true.
It’s not. I made it up to entertain myself.
Well, can you tell the Enthusiasts why you’re recommending the show?
Great Minglewood. Big, big, big Sugaree. A rare and fun On The Road Again. And more.
You’re only at the third song, aren’t you?
Yes. I can only imagine the rest of the show goes wonderfully, though. You know: for 1982.
Is there anything unusual or notable about the show?
Warfield, bro.
Right. Where the Dead played their West Coast residency in 1980. Is this perhaps the first time they returned?
Nah. Played there in ’81.
Is it the last time they played the venue?
Nope. Hit it in ’83, too.
You just picked this show at random, didn’t you?
Yes, I did.
You’re a tremendous disappointment.
I’M TREMENDOUS.
Asshole.
WAIT.
What?
The Bird Song is tasty.
Is the Bird Song the song right after On The Road Again?
Yup.
Asshole.
Why should you listen to 9/11/82 at the West Palm Beach Auditorium in the Sunshine State? For the Dupree’s, for the Let It Grow, and for the Baby Blue encore. (No kidding: killer Blue, brah.)
For those of you who don’t like the Dead, and instead prefer when shut-ins yell at dogs, here is this:
What the fuck are you?
“I’m Fwynn! I wuv you!”
Fuck you, you fluffy rat.
“Come here and wet me wuv you.”
FUCK YOU, OVERLY-CUTE DOG.
“I WUV YOU.”
This has to stop right now.
I thought it was one of my more coherent posts.
Good work, champ.
Phil’s looking healthy and it looks as though he’s gotten himself a brand-new ridiculously over-complicated bass. Maybe it was Jill’s Christmas present to him.
No word as yet whether or not Baby Levon will be sitting in.
Earlier, I posted that oral history of the Dead in Austin; it goes on about Manor Downs, and one of those very shows got into the 30 Trips box: 7/31/82. I can’t link to the new mix, but this one is a Charlie Miller SBD with a bunch of good reviews, so it can’t suck.
Also from the oral history, here are two pictures of the Dead in Austin. They’re from–I think–the ’71 shows captured on the Road Trip release, and feature a terrible idea: see if you can spot it in this group shot.
Did you spot the terrible idea? You have to enlarge the picture, so luckily there’s a better shot.
Even if you’ve taken only a little tiny bit of acid, those numbers are going to start meaning shit. That will become distracting.
“Well, they offered me a spot in the Young Artists’ show at the MOMA, but is the art ready, y’know? Where is my subject; where is my object: the grammar of the piece–and all the pieces I’m currently working on–is in flux, and yes that’s part and parcel, but the public can’t be expected to know that.
“He’s making that face again, isn’t he?”
OR
Immediately after this photo was taken, Bobby mouthed “I’m gonna pork her.”
OR
That is the best 2/3 of a face I’ve ever seen. She ain’t bad, either.
OR
Bobby once dropped a taquito into his chest hair and couldn’t find it for three days.
OR
For a Dead show, this woman is a B+, but for a Bobby & the Midnites show, she is an A+ with all the extra credit questions right.
OR
Between the lower lip and the freckles on her upper chest, this woman is killing it. The grad school manicure is worth a couple points, too.
OR
Words that can be used to describe Bobby’s chest hair: luxuriant, thatch, thicket, bramble, muzz, glorious, nipple-concealing, persuasive, manly, ‘Squatch-y.
“Guys, when I stop the car–and I am totally not kidding about this–let me talk to the cops.”
OR
Bobby asked the lady if she was Pigpen’s girlfriend. She was a bit confused and a tad offended; after being reminded that Pig had been dead for around a decade, Bobby was sad.
OR
“I heard your song Estimated Prophet. Bobby, why do you play reggae wrong?
OR
Attempting at humor, Bobby referred to himself as “Highly Selassie” and, you know: that’s their religion, so they got pissed and started goofing on him in a language that was still technically English, but no white guy from Mill Valley could ever comprehend.
(Side note: how sincere are Rastafarians? Not Chad with the dreads who goes home every other weekend to do his laundry, real Jamaican dudes. You know who I’m talking about: 5% body fat, holding a machete? I always figured they were at least 30 percent just making it up as they went, and clearly aware of the fact.)
OR
“Please don’t let Billy show up. Please don’t let Billy show up.”
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