Hey! This is not Fleetwood Mac: knock it off or I get the hose!
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: Grateful Dead (Page 7 of 25)
This photo is obviously not telling you the whole story: Mrs. Donna Jean liked to fight as much as the guys, but she was a fairly petite woman and Billy’s program of punches and kicks were meant to be performed by a guy who made his living beating on things. So, Mrs. Donna Jean clawed and scratched and bit. In this pic, she is washing about two fl. oz. of Keith’s plasma out of her teeth.
So now you know.
I have moved onto 4/11/78, also at the Fox Theater, which is in downtown Atlanta, on Peachtree. There are, apparently, 140 Peachtree streets, boulevards, avenues, lanes, roads, byways, thruways, terraces, ways, places in Atlanta and this joint may or not be located on one of them. It matters not.
There’s a reason this show isn’t on anyone’s top ten list. Still: better than not listening to the Dead AND listen to Terrapin, ten minutes in: something blows up, cutting off Phil and Bobby, so it’s left to Garcia and Keith to slowly wind the show the show into what will be the first of a number of full-band (or at least more guys than just Billy and Mickey) Drums.
Now, as you know, Blair Jackson and the rest of Big Dead are keeping things from you, important things: the keys to the Vault, the fact that “Mickey Hart” was played by different actors before and after the hiatus, etc. Why is this? Why does Blair Jackson hate the Dead?
No. You’re not going to do this.
Is it because he’s from Kenya?
Please: not again.
Is it because a mere TEASPOON of his liver, eaten, would produce TREMULOUS LUBICOSITIES OF THE UTMOST in the recipient?
Are you going mad or insane? There is a difference, and I can live with mad for now.
Ah, right: Blair Jackson is Yog Soggoth, the Ancient Anus with many Eyes!
Good, just mad.
Anyway, Blair Jackson is doing this thing over on Dead.net about listening to ten shows in a row so I’m going to beat him by doing the entire Spring ’78 tour because god help me, I need a girlfriend. We join in progress with 4/10/78 from the Fox Theater in Atlanta, GA.
Listen to the way Garcia snaaaaarls Los Angeles? Gimme Norfolk, Virginia. Tidewater 4-10-0-9…
And then stick around for the off-kilter BEW. Both drummers have been exploding with goodness and syncopation and tomfoolery this tour. And Keith is fucking killing it, but then, on a dime, his playing turns awkward and overpowering and there is a reason they rarely played It’s All Over Now.
And then check back in for Music Never Stopped which is such a train wreck that Harrison Ford is leaping in front of it.
P.S. After full listening, I give this show 3/2 thumbs up and a pat on its ass: “Good job,” I would say to it, were it here, even though it was goofy and sloppy and all over the place–they rocked the Fox with a crackling, coked-up energy. Proud of you!
You thought you were getting through this without some dickpunching?
Those darn caddies…
When Billy played, he turned beautiful.
It’s the two sad balloons behind Billy’s right ear that just so perfectily complement that jessuicaince of the insanity in Billy’s eyes.
Reason number a billion why Billy is Billy: he brought that hat from home.
Mustache, too.
The guy holding the paper is Clive Davis and that’s actually the Arista contract.
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