Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: 3/23/75

Don’t Forget The Kicks

“What’s with the sport coat, Weir?”

“Well, Jer, it’s like my dad used to say: You never know when you’re gonna have to teach an English class.”

“Smart guy, your pop.”

“Man was on the ball.”

OR

Bobby’s dad may have given him advice about sudden language lessons, but mine told me that if I ever had to play for a stadium of teenagers at ten in the morning, to play the atonal paean to Islam that hadn’t even been released, and then transition into Johnny B. Goode. You can also read all about it at Lost Live Dead, or check out the contemporaneous reports at Grateful Seconds.

A Proof, Semi-Mathematical

There were stinkers in the beginning, in the early years before they quite learned how to play their instruments, and then Garcia was out of tune in 1970 and ’71. 1972 has no bad shows, but ’73 might (depending on how you feel about the Horn Shows). ’74 surely does; the last few performances from the September European tour are among the worst that lineup produced. 1975 was perfect.You may judge early ’76’s slumpy tempos as dealbreakers; this is your right. Depending on your tolerance for late-era Keith’s monotonous comping, ’77 may also contain a clunker or two. ’78 is a fucking mess. After this, no year comes close to batting a thousand.

We are left, in our very important choice of Best EVAR year, with 1972 and 1975, and I vote for ’75. I enumerate my reasons herewith and thereforth:

  1. Having your best year while the band is technically broken up is the Grateful Dead way of going about business; it is deeply on-brand.
  2. While the Dead achieved numerous career milestones and created some of the most wonderful music of their lives in ’72, they didn’t play Blues For Allah at ten in the morning to a baseball stadium full of teens. 
  3. Bill Graham introduces every show in 1975.

Quan Eros Dermatologium.

All Hail Kezar!

Hey, kids! want to start your week off in just the weirdest goddam way possible? Try 3/23/75 at Kezar Stadium, where Bill Graham put on a benefit for the underfunded schools of the Bay Area called S.N.A.C.K. (Students Need Athletics, Culture, and Kicks.) (Kicks? Wow, the 70’s were weird.)

Anyway, it’s not like any Dead set you’ve heard before: it’s just a 40 minute Blues for Allah jam, but with Merl and Ned on the back up keys and Keith on the heavenly Fender Rhodes.

Wondering how Bobby’s hair looked?

Play ALL the keyboards!

And you can come up with your own fellatio-related caption here, I suppose.

And, holy shit, just listen to Garcia lead the transition back into Blues from at 30 seconds in to the fourth track. That’s why he doesn’t get called by his first name